IMPORTANT

John's Mixed Bag Blog 

comes to an end today.

It will be replaced by 

The Visual Image Site

which will begin on Monday 24th February

thevisualimagesite.blogspot.com

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Photos thanks to Prexels.com

No.37

Photo by Prexels.com

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 WHEN FIRST I SAW YOUR FACE, LOVE 

Dollie Radford 

1858-1920

When first I saw your face, love,

I knew my search was done,

You passed my lonely place, love,

The light I sought was won.

When your steadfast eyes looked down on me

And I arose to follow thee

And something in your smile, love,

I knew to be a part

Of joy that for a while, love,

Had slumbered in my heart;

To what sweet music it awoke

When first you turned to me and spoke.

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Pease Bay, Berwickshire, Scotland

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The best and most beautiful things in the world cannot be seen or even touched - they must be felt with the heart - Helen Keller

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No.36

"Love the trees until their leaves fall off,

Then encourage them to try again next year."

- Chad Sugg.

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I THINK I would be eight yeas old and Rita five when we began piano lessons. Probably we weren’t particularly keen on the idea (I wanted a banjo) but all decisions affecting we children were made by our parents, and that was that!

Our teacher was Aunt Frances, the youngest of our mother’s siblings, and she had 12 letters after her name! Wow!!

The fact that she was a relation made no difference in her attitude towards us. We were her pupils and we were treated like all the others.

I remember the routine well. Our mother would take us to see Grandma Hardie who lived next door to Frances, and, when my lesson was due, I would go to Frances’ house, go into the hall, where I would change into carpet slippers, and then quietly slip into the big front room to wait till the previous pupil had finished.

I’m sure that in the early days we went along well prepared, for Mother used to sit with us while we did our compulsory half-hour practice every day, very often tapping out the beat with her knitting needle. Later on however I sometimes went for my lesson, wishing that I had been a bit more industrious during the week.

I don't think there was any rivalry between Rita and me. There was certainly quite a difference in our temperaments; I enjoyed being asked to play the piano when visitors called; Rita was reluctant to oblige but never showed this. Later, when we were young adults and the war was coming to a end, we were doing quite a bit of entertaining playing piano duets at local concerts. Rita maintains that our appearances were so numerous that when we appeared whispered murmers were heard "Not those two again!"

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"The creation of a thousand forests is in one acorn."

Ralph Waldo Emerson

Photos by Prexels.com

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NEXT POST - THURSDAY

No.35

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MY MADONNA
Robert W. Service 
1874-1958
(Ŧhe Bard of the Yukon)

I haled me a woman from the street,
   Shameless, but, oh, so fair!
I bade her sit in the model’s seat
   And I painted her sitting there.

I hid all trace of her heart unclean;
   I painted a babe at her breast;
I painted her as she might have been
   If the Worst had been the Best.

She laughed at my picture and went away.
   Then came, with a knowing nod,
A connoisseur, and I heard him say;
   “’Tis Mary, the Mother of God.”

So I painted a halo round her hair,
   And I sold her and took my fee,
And she hangs in the church of Saint Hillaire,
   Where you and all may see.


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I suppose that, when I was at primary school, over half the children there belonged to families who today would be considered under-privileged. I was fortunate in that my father’s job was secure, and both he and my mother were careful with money.

Quite a few of my fellow-pupils came to school poorly dressed, often not very clean and probably hungry. Of course there was a great deal of unemployment at that time - it’s reckoned that between 1931 and 1933 more that a quarter of the nation’s workforce couldn’t find jobs. Unemployment benefit was paid for the first 26 weeks, and then the infamous Means Test took over. That involved an official visiting the claimant’s home and thoroughly examining the finances of the family; apparently any possessions, such as a wireless set, could be taken in to the calculation to assess what money should be paid to them.

My first teacher was an aunt of mine; in fact my first day at school was her first day as a teacher. Of course I had been well warned to call her Miss Hardie and not Aunt Cissie. I’ve always said that I was the best behaved pupil in all my time at that school, for I knew if I misbehaved my mother would soon hear of it! And having an aunt on the staff worked to my advantage, for I found that the teachers, always so stiff and strict, tended to soften a little with me.

I could be a bit of an know-all. I remember we had been learning how to differentiate between verbs, nouns, proper nouns, etc., and the teacher (not my aunt) was going round the class asking each one of us to give examples. When my turn came, she asked for any proper noun. I stood up and said “Yell.” Of course she looked surprised at my answer and shook her head. But little John knew better. “Please miss, Yell is one of the northern isles of the Shetlands.” What a horrible little show-off!!!

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Discipline of course was strict at both primary and secondary schools. We sat in rows facing the teacher and talking was not allowed under any circumstances. If you wanted to say something to the teacher, you put your hand up. And behaviour was generally good. For those who offended in some way, there was punishment; every teacher possessed a belt and in primary school would use it often. Sadly it was sometimes inflicted for spelling or counting mistakes.

The belt was administered on the palm of the hand, and for serious offences “six of the best” would usually bring tears to the eyes. I hasten to add that I didn’t ever get the belt at primary school. (I told you I was the best-behaved boy.) I was surprised to learn that at some schools boys were belted on the bottom and shocked to read this account which referred to a school in Dumfries.

“The use of the tawse (belt) was a daily occurrence for trivial offences. The boys were brutally beaten on the bare backside by the headmaster while two teachers held the struggling victim across a school desk. Female teachers were excused witnessing the spectacle, so that they would not see a bare backside.”

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The female teachers at my primary school were all spinsters and none of them ever got married. One was very old indeed - in fact she had taught my mother! I didn’t particularly like or dislike any of them, but I will testify that they were all good at their job. Both there and at my secondary school, the standard of teaching was high. The aim was to prepare pupils to pass exams and the system certainly achieved the desired result. If that should be the purpose of education, is of course another question!

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No.34

DAYBREAK

John Donne

1572-1631

Stay! O sweet and do not rise!

The light that shines comes from thine eyes;

The day breaks not: it is my heart

Because that you and I must part.

Stay! or else my joys will die

And perish in their infancy.

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Thanks to Pexels.com

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The older I got the more reluctant I was to consider going on holiday. Of course, my age and my health rules out the idea completely.

Looking back, I think my problem may have started when our children were young. I remember the first time we had a holiday at Burntisland. We travelled by train and halfway through the journey I became convinced that we were on the wrong train. And after that, on any train journey I was always faced with the question - are we absolutely sure this is the right train?

We hadn’t been long married when we were to spend a week at Crail, Jean in digs, and me at a YMCA camp where I was a leader. On the morning of our departure we slept in, and had a tremendous rush to catch our train. After that, I always had to be ready an hour before departure time, whether it was for going on holiday or keeping a hospital appointment.

I remember one memorable occasion when we were joining a coach tour in Glasgow. The local taxi didn’t turn up and the situation was saved by a neighbour who drove us to the bus station, getting there with  minutes to spare.

Flying didn't really bother me; apart from the worry of getting to the airport, my problem was the airport itself - the crowds and the long delays. And railways stations can be a bit chaotic too. 

Jean and I did a Golden Rail holiday once and on the return journey we had to change at York.

I’ve never seen a busier station and there was no sign of the Golden Rail rep whom we had been promised. At last the Edinburgh train arrived, we got on and found passengers and luggage blocking the corridors. Eventually we located our reserved seats but they were already occupied by people whose tickets showed that those seats were indeed theirs. And the explanation? This was an earlier train, running very late. Yes, this time we really had got on the wrong train!!!

One more story! Jean and I were on a coach trip to France. After an overnight stay in a Portsmouth hotel, we had breakfast there, and then joined our coach to take us the docks. It seemed to be some distance away, for we had been travelling quite a while when Jean realised that she had left her bag, containing passports and foreign money, in the hotel, on the floor at the breakfast table! Absolute panic!!! But not for our leader who contacted the hotel on his mobile, and asked them to send a taxi with the bag to our boarding point.  There was no problem - Jean got her handbag in good time, but my hair turned grey during that hour!!!

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DISOBEDIENCE
A. A. MILNE
1882-1956

James James
Morrison Morrison
Weatherby George Dupree
Took great
Care of his Mother,
Though he was only three.
James James said to his Mother,
"Mother," he said, said he;
"You must never go down
to the end of the town,
if you don't go down with me."

James James
Morrison's Mother
Put on a golden gown.
James James Morrison's Mother
Drove to the end of the town.
James James Morrison's Mother
Said to herself, said she:
"I can get right down
to the end of the town
and be back in time for tea."

King John
Put up a notice,
"LOST or STOLEN or STRAYED!
JAMES JAMES MORRISON'S MOTHER
SEEMS TO HAVE BEEN MISLAID.
LAST SEEN
WANDERING VAGUELY:
QUITE OF HER OWN ACCORD,
SHE TRIED TO GET DOWN
TO THE END OF THE TOWN -
FORTY SHILLINGS REWARD!"

  James James
Morrison Morrison
(Commonly known as Jim)
Told his
Other relations
Not to go blaming him.
James James
Said to his Mother,
"Mother," he said, said he:
"You must never go down to the end of the town
without consulting me."

James James
Morrison's mother
Hasn't been heard of since.
King John said he was sorry,
So did the Queen and Prince.
King John
(Somebody told me)
Said to a man he knew:
"If people go down to the end of the town, well,
what can anyone do?"

(Now then, very softly)
J.J.
M.M.
W.G.Du P.
Took great
C/O his M*****
Though he was only 3.
J.J. said to his M*****
"M*****," he said, said he:
"You-must-never-go-down-to-the-end-of-the-town- 
if-you-don't-go-down-with-ME!"

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NEXT POST - MONDAY

No.33

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A MAGIC MOMENT I REMEMBER

Alexander Sergeyevich Poushkin 

1799-1837

A magic moment I remember:

I raised my eyes and you were there,

A fleeting vision, the quintessence

Of all that's beautiful and rare.

I pray to mute despair and anguish,

To pursuits the vain world esteems,

Long did I hear your soothing accents,

Long did your features haunt my dreams. 

Time passed. A rebel storm-blast scattered

The reveries that once were mine

And I forgot your soothing accents,

Your features gracefully divine. 

In dark days of enforced retirement

I gazed upon grey skies above

With no ideals to inspire me

No one to cry for, live for, love. 

Then came a moment of renaissance,

I looked up - you again are there

A fleeting vision, the quintessence

Of all that's beautiful and rare

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HUG O'WAR 
Shel Silverstein

I will not play at tug o'war,  
I'd rather play at hug o'war,
Where everyone hugs 
Instead of tugs,
Where everyone giggles
And rolls on the rug,
Where everyone kisses
And everyone grins,
And everyone cuddles
And everyone wins.

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NEXT POST - THURSDAY

This is the first post of a new series.

The next post will be on Monday

No.32

Lucille Clifton born in 1936 in New York became an American poet, writer and educator. From 1979 to 1985 she was Poet Laureate of Maryland. She was a finalist twice for the Pulitzer Prize for Poetry.

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VENICE EVENING
Dmitri Danish
b.1966
Ukraine

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LOOK FOR THE SILVER LINING
Buddy de Silva and Jerome Kern
1945

Look for the silver lining
Whenever clouds appear in the blue,
Remember somewhere the sun is shining
And so the right thing to do is make it shine for you,
A heart full of joy and gladness
Will always banish sadness and strife,
So always look for the silver lining
And try to find the funny side of life.

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