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Silk Worms – Bombyx mori, the silkworm of the mulberry tree.

In late May we took delivery of some silkworm eggs. The silkworm eggs like last years caterpillars, came from Insect Lore.
You may recall the Painted Lady butterflies that we nurtured last year.

Well it’s been 8 weeks and a slow process but at last we have ‘Silky’ the silk moth!
Silky – Bombyx mori
Silky – Bombyx mori © Jules Richards
We have watched the pepper like eggs transform into little mini-mini-silkworms.
They grew, almost as we watched, while munching on squished mulberry leaves.
Silk Worms 2 weeks old. ©jules Richards
Silk Worms 2 weeks old. © Jules Richards
They grew over 2 weeks to about an inch and a half and then started spinning their cocoons.  Another 2 weeks and one silkworm moth has emerged! Amazing little thing!
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Silk Worms, a set on Flickr.

Oh and what’s more, having started blogging a year ago, this is post 100 from me!  Ding dong! Happy daze.
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Rhymes…

I thought “Imagine a world where nothing rhymed”… a friend was bemused by this. I hadn’t thought much about it, but it just resonated with me. And so I pondered a little more…

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I’m thinking rhyme is when things work together, then things just sing, create, live, love, blossom and grow… when simple combinations can trample or crush big ideas, when a few letters can illuminate the fabulous…
Think of our world without any of this rhyming.
A language where we can’t sing about a thing, with the ring of a hymn, and dance and prance and discover by chance… the warmth of a flame and chill of the lame…
Birds flying is a rhyme in a most fundamental form – birds fly high in a sky… A place where a birds can’t fly? A world without such, imagined realities would be dull indeed.
Stuff needs to go together.
The interaction between things is what makes them fecund…
Alas we so often fail to see the rhymes around us, we clash and deny the beauty and often struggle to reach harmony, I guess it’s due to bad grammar and ‘stuff’.

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Me, groan! What have 40 years done?

This is me at 3 and a half years and 43 and a half  years of age… groan!  What have 40 years done?

At 3 the family lived in Hayle in Cornwall and shortly moved to Fowey where we lived for about 5 years.

At 18 I left education and after a few ‘first jobs’ eventually started apprenticeship in a design and print studio in St Ives.

At 24 I left Kernow and studied a degree in the Creative Arts in Cheshire.

At 43 I live in Leicestershire and have done for about 15 years.

Onward!

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Take a chill pill…

Cycling to work is a joy and I can’t recommend it highly enough – however…
The below obviously does not apply to the majority of road users but does apply to a surprisingly significant number. We are all at different stages of life and have differing world-views but I believe we are all human.

Lemming like following… slow down and chill-out.
First observation is the motorist’s urge to get up the backside of the car in front. Traffic seems to flow in bunches of half-a-dozen cars. Yes as a cyclist I also occasionally have to remind myself to “take a chill pill” but that’s usually due to aggravation caused by the danger of mixing with hard, fast, unpredictable hazards. One of the most frequent dangerous observations is a car overtaking me although the car in front of me has barely passed and then the overtaker has to brake hard and slow down. The most infuriatingly dangerous incidents are when a vehicle, again rather than waiting a few seconds, overtakes on a blind-bend, when they cannot see a clear route ahead. Unless I keep my wits about me, sooner or later there will be an incident where an over eager driver will take me out.

Disregard for the rules… limits are not targets.
The rules of the road are “rules”. It seems these days “speed limits” are an annoyance and a quaint part of the british landscape. They are frequently ignored or read as the speed that one should be doing. A 40mph speed limit means “do not exceed 40” not “drive at 40”. Limits are there to help prevent incident and to reduce potential casualty. Most rural and  suburban roads are not built for cars to drive at speed. There is no need to match the speed limit. You will get there if you just chill out a bit and slow down, trust me try it!

Ignorance of common sense… I didn’t think…
OK the jury’s out but, the fact is using a mobile phone, eating a banana, smoking a fag etc are secondary activities and driving requires the driver’s full attention. It’s common sense.
Wait until there’s room to proceed. If you cannot pass a cyclist safely just wait 20-30 seconds and look again. It’s common sense.
Common sense prevails (to most) when you’re walking down the street. You acknowledge passing strangers, you might even pass regards. You don’t run when walking suffices. You don’t barge past or shout at the person in front.

Blaring music… pardon?!
OK it took me awhile to drop the habit but there’s a limit where the loudness of music becomes ignorantly more than needed and rude. Common sense? When the music (and i use that term loosely) in the car becomes music out of the car, then that’s just stupid.

Midlife substitution… shiny happy people…
OK it will always be, but affluenza is an annoying phenomenon. What makes me chuckle is over 60’s in expensive sports-cars, and suede bagged mothers in oversized 4 wheel drive trucks. And of course there’s the single successful’s in their overpriced accessorising audmwcedes. It’s not a crime but it is i fear a symptom of oneupmanship.

Single seater driving… why?
Yes there’s always a place for the automobile. It’s an amazing invention and modern designs are becoming increasingly effective. But is it needed for journey Y & Z as well as X?
There was a time when I would not even entertain the seemingly stupid proposal that I might ride to work just once a week. The thought of it was seriously ridiculous and absolutely not an option. A year hence I found myself cycling to work daily, and having done so for a year.
There are so many people is a similar position to me – driving alone in a car 3-7 miles to work.
Admittedly there are situations where it is just not appropriate and not for everyone. But
I used to drive 7 miles to work, taking 25-30 minutes, costing ~£3 a day in petrol +parking. (£50/month). For my previous journeys, I strapped myself, encapsulated into a ventilated carriage, and gripping the shiny plastic, smelling the fake pine, I was led along by the lemming in front, while taking in the pop-pulp-podcastic wittering opiate of choice(?).
Now I cycle 7 miles to work, it take 30 minutes, it cost me nothing in petrol and parking.
My endorphins are raised, my lungs and muscles are exercised. My spirits are cleansed by fresh air, nature and light. My mind is allowed.
If you drive under 7 miles to work alone in a car there is another cheaper, healthier and more pleasurable choice.

The analogy with smoking… cough!
OK this one’s work-in-progress.
Smoking.
We have come to understand that smoking is an unhealthy decision. It’s debatably costly, bad for you, bad for those around you and stinks. OK it serves a purpose, it takes the edge of life’s ruggedness and it’s a choice. We all employ drugs in varying forms but the habitual use of some drugs are unwise and destructive. The use of nicotine in the form of cigarettes has been recognised as an unhealthy commercially driven crutch that needs limiting and should be considered with caution. Today, many would consider smoking cigarettes unwise yet still many do smoke. Many people ignore the financial cost, the health risks and the antisocial cloud that smoking creates. Many ignore the idea that “smoking kills” both physically and mentally
The Car.
Some have come to ponder driving is an unhealthy decision. It’s debatably costly, bad for you, bad for those around you and stinks. OK it serves a purpose, it takes the edge of life’s ruggedness and it’s a choice. We all drive in varying forms but the habitual use of the car is unwise and destructive. The use of cars has been recognised as an unhealthy commercially driven crutch that needs limiting and should be considered with caution. Today, many would consider the use of the car as unwise yet still many do drive. Many people ignore the financial cost, the health risks and the antisocial cloud that driving creates. Many ignore the idea that “speed kills” both physically and mentally.

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Butterflies 2011

Last year (2011) we watched 10 mini caterpillars transform into painted lady butterflies in our kitchen.

It was truly amazing to see the whole life-cycle.

 http://www.flickr.com/photos/58480027@N02/sets/72157629800926802/

Although I hesitate to recommend stuff ‘cos our experience could have ben a fluke, you can get the kit here: https://www.insectlore.co.uk

The link above is a seal for 10 caterpillars rather than the pack on Amazon which is 5 caterpillars.
What we experienced last year really was worth the £20.

This year we have just taken delivery of 25 silkworm eggs. Watch this space for an update in  a few weeks.

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Other people’s shoes…

Reflecting on the ordinary amongst the extraordinary…

The Methodist Church have asked each District to make a prayer symbol to help people to support the Olympics, Paralympics & Cultural Olympiad in prayer.
Rachel Parkinson (of Leicester North Circuit) and her team approached me with the engaging idea: “Put yourself in their shoes…

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Put yourself in their shoes simply features 8 images of people and their shoes…

The posters will be displayed in more than 100 community buildings across the district.
The images will also be reflected on in presentations and worship events across the region.
Thanks goes to Leicester College photography students for some of the photos.
I simply designed the graphics and artworked the posters etc.

“The Games” will no doubt focus, elevate and trumpet, extraordinary achievements in the next few months, which indeed should be marvelled at, celebrated and applauded.
These posters will hopefully act as a catalyst causing us to reflect and remember the ordinary in, under, amongst and over the extraordinary phenomenon of the next few months’ Olympiad.

The posters underpin the reflections with the idea “As shoes for your feet put on whatever will make you ready to share the gospel of peace” from Ephesians Ch.6 v15

TheirShoesTonyWalker
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Worship?

I commented on “worship” last October: taking a bath the interaction between things is what make them…

I recently saw someone comment that they “NEED to worship God”, that when they begin to worship “something happens within me… natural selfishness gets kicked out the back door and my heart* opens up to the transforming, powerful, grace-filled-love* of God*.  …it reminds me… that all of the responsibilities and struggles I take on are in his-hands*, and that I can trust him to walk-with-me* and not abandon me, to give me the words and the strength.  …to remember the love-he-has-for-me*, to be open to the work of the Holy-Spirit* and to remind myself that he is that centre. Worship helps me to know that I-am-loved*, and it sets me free to love others, and to see the grace-of-God* at work in the world around me.” 

They commented: “so often in discussions about worship we have a tendency to make worship about us and not about God. …it is important that we don’t forget what it is for and who it is about. In worship God becomes greater and I-become-less*…     I need to worship!”

(I have concerns with some of these * notions)

My admittedly imperfect perspective might be as follows:
I need to worship (to adore, revere, respect, devote, admire, venerate, celebrate?) the thing /notion/sense/power(?) that is bigger than us all”.
When I recognise the reality of otherness and possibilities, it helps to refocus on the bigger picture and review perspectives, attitudes and opinions in a fresh way.
To repeatedly recognise the fabula (story) of ‘life’, and reappraise the sjužet (discourse, perspectives, attitudes, opinions – interaction) can enrich the poor, liven the dead, and can make the blind see.
To review the selfishness that often hinders creativity and open up to the transforming, power of reconsideration.
Life is limited but the clouds move.
This worship reminds me that I am relevant in daily the interaction and it sets me free to let others be.
Worship is about us as part of the fabula and yes, it is important that we don’t forget our place in things.
In worship, life becomes greater and we become more real…        we need to worship!”

(None of this considers the euphoria, endorphins and satisfaction induced by standing and singing etc – that’s another topic.)

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Listen.. can u hear breathing?.. r u alive?

It’s been a while since I uttered some nonsense – that could be good be a good sign… then again…

You won’t fly until you truly let go… you’ll not feel the song until you really hear it… you can’t stretch until you truly wake up…

Easier said than done!?
As Keats inferred, unheard melodies are [probably] sweeter…

A while back I commented: “Listen….. can u hear breathing?… ”
A (heard?) tweet recently mentioned: “Breath is the thread that ties creation together” Morihei Ueshiba

Over the period of lent (I’m not getting in to what that should or does mean), I have gone-without, indeed forsaken, the habitual podcasts etc on my commute to and from work. I enjoy taking in ‘cultcha’ as much as most, be it ‘new music’ or ‘old chestnuts’, intellectual debate or documentary etc.
I’ve occasionally felt the pangs to be ear-plugged (or car stereo) into info- and enter-tainment and inbibe some stimulating amusements (as Neil Postman highlighted) or I guess some digital numbing narcotic. But for the last few weeks I’ve gone without.

‘Entertain’ can mean to hold the attention of, to divert, consider, cherish, maintain…
A favourite bible verse of mine has always been “Where your treasure is there is your heart also” Matthew 6:21 – amongst other things, to me, this means; what you cherish is what essentially makes you, you are what you think and feel, and even; all things fade and therefore so will you…

The Sahara Desert Drive
Em & I being driven through the Sahara - he laughed when we asked for seat belts, then drove like a maniac!

Without the distracting opiate of one’s earphones, one of the encounters on my commute now is birdsong. From light field-song of small twittering birds to heavy crowing in the wooded areas. Even in the town, birds are prolific if one can just notice them. The rowan trees at the end of my commute are always a stage for nature of some sort.
When you cycle, you cannot fail to notice the ‘nature’ of traffic, people and yourself. We rush to get there, we must catch the one in front, we are already at our destination not noticing where we actually are, we disregard rules of the road and society. It’s hard to remain objective but it seems the nature of people in traffic amplifies attitudes that are inherent in all of us. It also amplifies perspectives and priorities….

It may be a stage of life, but recently I’ve found myself entertaining the natural world and creation more than previously. The Sun is such a powerful phenomena, we take it for granted but just think how it really effects your life. Drugs like Coffee, Chocolate, Cheese… that’s another thing. As you know, our household has pets; gerbils, a budgie and fish. I hanker for The Beeb’s Spring/Autumn/Winter Watch. Some of Country File and iplayer’s factual science and nature offerings are tonics to the daily routine. Loving Tim Spall’s “…at Sea” at the mo. Seeing wild birds fly, rabbits, grouse, frogs, cats prowling… weather… it’s life.

Listen….. can u hear breathing…?

Again Mr. Keats put it beautifully:
“Beauty is truth, truth beauty: that is all Ye know on earth, and all ye need to know.”

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Life and Afterlife

Life and Afterlife?

Life Afterlife
Life Afterlife

I have made this letter longer, because I have not had the time to make it shorter. Blaise Pascal

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Pilgrimage, going outside for some time…

Gotta make it positive! (says the little sprite on my right shoulder).  Awwh *!£#@!##%! !*#&*! (says the little !*#&* on t’other)…

It must have been 15 years or so ago that I wrote “We’re going outside, I may be sometime…”

Sun sets on St Ives
Sun sets on St Ives
‘We’re going outside and we may be some time’
Twenty-five years I grew, nurtured on Cornwall and the Cornish manner, the Cornishness that is now part of me. I still day-dream, of a ‘T’ shirt that announces “I’m Cornish and proud of it…” …is that all I have to cling to? (I haven’t even got this day-dream of mine).
I spent a childhood full of Cornwall’s riches: pebbles a sand, fIzzypop in cans, wind and rain, tunnels, holes, alleys & bunkers, vast sun-scorched gorse torched views, I could see both coasts from our bathroom window.
Spirits of the sea always whisper to me, the loudest whispers I’ve ever heard. I’ve heard in Leicestershire, Crewe and Nice, I saw a little red boat barely afloat.
I cried at the beauty surrounding me as the holidayers screamed and sizzled and I laughed. I sat alone at the end of the phone, I ran with the gang, at low tide, across St Ives Bay, on new years day. We drank and we sang and played in the band. Gran bought saffron buns at Sunday-school treat, and pasties and pasties and pasties. Slept in the snow on the rocks on Carn Brea, laughed at what nan a grandad would say (that’s not the grandad that died in the fishing boat accident). Ate winkles with pins and vinegar picked from Porthleven harbour, got filthy. Held on tight as the storm wind rips so hard it bites. Sat in a haystack in the sun and got covered in mites. I’ve lay for hours and been soaked up by the whole of Mounts Bay, on the clearest ever, hottest ever, hottest ever day. Walked home at midnight from to Camborne from Hayle, met a girl in Redruth and another in St Just, got drunk in Crantock, earnt a wage in St Ives ‘ saw a dream in St Austell, learnt some verbs in Fowey… grew towards man from boy in Cornwall…
…only, they’re all memories.
I return and see the most rugged of faces smile and share the day like children returning to play, waves so worn from years of scorn, skies so blue they seem brand new. A scarred town refuses to frown, yet sings and raises its glasses, everywhere I look I see me and I see pasty smiles, rugby miles, unique Cornwall style saying this is us but we do say we.
I’ve moved away now, don’t know why, but I know I can’t go back. Jane’s not there, Craig’s gone, David’s moved off, So has Jon. Matthew’s in Manchester, Lisa’s in Suffolk, Richard’s in Cardiff, Kay’s in Bath, Lee is in Luton and Mark is in Crewe, and I’m in Leicester for something to do. Cornwall, in essence, has everything, God and the Devil are surely within. but it hasn’t got what I’m looking for. . . . what am I looking for?
I’m going outside and I may be some time…

I caught a podcast recently where Ernie Rea and his guests discussed “Pilgrimage”.
Beyond Belief’ BBC Radio 4 : “Every year more than 100 million people around the world go ‘on pilgrimage’, the biggest mass migration of people on the planet. Two and a half million Muslims visited Mecca for last year’s Hajj and over 600,000 visited Graceland to worship at the shrine of Elvis Presley. Is there something in the human psyche which seeks fulfillment from… [pilgrimage]?”

I understand pilgrimage to be: a journey outside the norm or an escape to something significant – typically aiming for a place of importance central to or ‘at the heart of’ a person’s world view. A seeking to discover, understand or be healed? The ‘quest’ is sometimes linked with oracles and finding a source of counsel or understanding. It would seem this is a common human experience that has been specifically studied and written on widely.

To venture outside of the norm…
I read books to discover? escape? understand?
I watch films to discover? escape? understand?
I listen to music to discover? escape? understand?
I sing and play music to discover? escape? understand?
I cycle to discover? escape? understand?
I surf the web to discover? escape? understand?
I imbibe festival and celebrations to discover? escape? understand?
I wander the countryside to discover? escape? understand?
I feed the birds and talk to my pets to discover? escape? understand?
I live to discover? escape? understand?

Most weekends we have a holiday “Holy Day” where we make an effort to do something to discover, escape, understand or experience something out of the ordinary.
Are we ourselves on an ongoing macro-(micro?)-pilgrimage to the outside?

I wonder as I wander… outside for sometime…