tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-87714472023-11-16T18:25:15.330+00:00The Diabetic OptionA Forum for Type II DiabeticsColin Fhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01669190041233124923noreply@blogger.comBlogger201125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8771447.post-62175612682222117972009-04-22T15:30:00.004+01:002009-04-22T15:47:32.940+01:00Here Beginneth..... for Type II DiabeticsHere Beginneth..... a new chapter after my old Blog.<br /><br /><br /><span style="font-style:italic;">I've gotten fed up with no one on the planet catering for all of us Type II's out ther that I've decided to start listing the problems and any ideas that might help. This is of course mainly to do with eating. Cafes and shops just do notoffer food that does not include vast, and I mean vast amounts of sugar. Its not neccessary! Some drinks can have 70percent sugar (eek!) and there seems to be aconspiracy to squeeze as much sugar as possible into cakes and pastries. Sugar isnt a vital part of our diet! Carbohydrates are, so don't assume we're all dying (literally) to stuff ourselves with it.<br /><br />More on this later!<br /><br />I hope to include reduced or sugar free puddings that still taste good and tell you about food that I eat that I hope is reasonable for us Type IIs<br /><br /></span>Colin Fhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01669190041233124923noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8771447.post-88610969234275713032009-02-02T12:22:00.002+00:002009-02-02T12:25:44.295+00:00First snow this Year : St Giles West Bridgford<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjRGRj2WQXQSKhKVWM5D8xAEO1kcsGGaTfQ9EeD0WZWgm0JbI1KcoiAN4dJCQf1hOKxMeRo1Qgth46BI5UOTVFL0QJRMwSUg8ZfEnPoY6HmmG2Ca5RGyPvOytvw1pHFmS1NNKwW/s1600-h/IMG_2332.JPG"><img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjRGRj2WQXQSKhKVWM5D8xAEO1kcsGGaTfQ9EeD0WZWgm0JbI1KcoiAN4dJCQf1hOKxMeRo1Qgth46BI5UOTVFL0QJRMwSUg8ZfEnPoY6HmmG2Ca5RGyPvOytvw1pHFmS1NNKwW/s320/IMG_2332.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5298174979200164562" /></a>Colin Fhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01669190041233124923noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8771447.post-55908439610265055222008-10-19T12:48:00.003+01:002008-10-19T12:57:01.927+01:00Book MemeQuick!<br /><br />* Grab the nearest book.<br />* Open the book to page 56.<br />* Find the fifth sentence.<br />* Post the text of the sentence in your journal along with these instructions.<br />* Don’t dig for your favorite book, the cool book, or the intellectual one: pick the CLOSEST.<br /><br />Tennyson, not so acute an observer of mechanical wonders as he was of nature, thought that steam engines ran along grooves in the ground.<br /><br />R.L.O and G.R St A<br /><br />A General history of England 1836 to 1950Colin Fhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01669190041233124923noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8771447.post-54627584080513968492008-04-01T18:39:00.006+01:002008-04-01T18:49:33.144+01:00Yippee.....Just got back from Australia. Click Here.<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEixY-W3aqwdrdXw4Pz4GDlx4WsYiev2XcaWbCjj_poZMfy8ZF_lFrSOSfyhfaUzlQ_ZMPUThyphenhyphendqTmKceq-zZROd0R6zJHpxmnpNU2NZdd7cxcQseXmiboN-e7VLrgqomRXqWuYj/s1600-h/067.JPG"><img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEixY-W3aqwdrdXw4Pz4GDlx4WsYiev2XcaWbCjj_poZMfy8ZF_lFrSOSfyhfaUzlQ_ZMPUThyphenhyphendqTmKceq-zZROd0R6zJHpxmnpNU2NZdd7cxcQseXmiboN-e7VLrgqomRXqWuYj/s320/067.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5184333657474428434" /></a><br />from Australia.Colin Fhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01669190041233124923noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8771447.post-88205902068103573672008-01-27T20:26:00.001+00:002008-01-27T20:35:51.575+00:00New series - Around Nottingham 1. GREEN's WINDMILL<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_lj9fdnzzhF8/R5zpXhxqOvI/AAAAAAAAAHY/H7rB8mpqY8k/s1600-h/greens+windmill+4.jpg"><img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_lj9fdnzzhF8/R5zpXhxqOvI/AAAAAAAAAHY/H7rB8mpqY8k/s320/greens+windmill+4.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5160255863472667378" /></a><br /><br />Wikipedia says:<br /><br />George Green (14 July 1793–31 May 1841) was a British mathematician and physicist, who wrote An Essay on the Application of Mathematical Analysis to the Theories of Electricity and Magnetism (Green, 1828). The essay introduced several important concepts, among them a theorem similar to modern Green's theorem, the idea of potential functions as currently used in physics, and the concept of what are now called Green's functions.<br /><br />Green's life story is remarkable in that he was almost entirely self-taught. He was born and lived for most of his life in the English town of Sneinton, Nottinghamshire, nowadays part of the city of Nottingham. His father (also named George) was a baker who had built and owned a brick windmill used to grind grain. The younger Green only had about one year of formal schooling as a child, between the ages of 8 and 9.Colin Fhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01669190041233124923noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8771447.post-92015080105478272492008-01-20T20:50:00.000+00:002008-01-27T20:31:34.099+00:00Copied from Pizdaus<a href="http://pizdaus.com/single.php?id=9737&from=embed"><img src="http://pizdaus.com/small3/XH1kXq19mkeK.jpeg"><br></a>Colin Fhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01669190041233124923noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8771447.post-16063552816031469732008-01-15T16:59:00.000+00:002008-01-15T17:12:18.878+00:00Try PIZDAUS !Have a look at this great photo site. Well worth a visit!<br />Its called PIZDAUS ! <a href="http://pizdaus.com/">Click Here!</a>Colin Fhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01669190041233124923noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8771447.post-69866386830504577442008-01-01T18:34:00.001+00:002008-01-01T18:41:50.469+00:00On the beach...<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgagzBdfNf-fHQB6UNhu9WtmLjciEN5gvDQ0ipL3Z8AA31WYx97NO9zxrTZBLmXsP9Z8VsGyzTBWU-THaC66mWQJMShbLh8r0haL0K6q7WBBgGAGIgWwsak9TVgbDr1g1pPbZK_/s1600-h/PICT0065.JPG"><img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgagzBdfNf-fHQB6UNhu9WtmLjciEN5gvDQ0ipL3Z8AA31WYx97NO9zxrTZBLmXsP9Z8VsGyzTBWU-THaC66mWQJMShbLh8r0haL0K6q7WBBgGAGIgWwsak9TVgbDr1g1pPbZK_/s320/PICT0065.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5150580011026496738" /></a><br />Just outside Aukland New Zealand.Colin Fhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01669190041233124923noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8771447.post-52424001447716455622007-12-30T19:34:00.000+00:002007-12-30T19:36:58.595+00:00Sun Surfer<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg1dNC6NnSspFSWPrt-yvkbJurTSJZNujMtqKESLt2CanP2TBvXAfevk3MrE-WA5hEBCAPkqmqxgLAMaxv9F4r_b2v6G9TI-8ZOwySyECDG_zTfun_5cE7Y7xyfLU7vemZfPRRV/s1600-h/Sun+Surfer+2.jpg"><img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg1dNC6NnSspFSWPrt-yvkbJurTSJZNujMtqKESLt2CanP2TBvXAfevk3MrE-WA5hEBCAPkqmqxgLAMaxv9F4r_b2v6G9TI-8ZOwySyECDG_zTfun_5cE7Y7xyfLU7vemZfPRRV/s320/Sun+Surfer+2.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5149852224523222210" /></a>Colin Fhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01669190041233124923noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8771447.post-83078968561048350922007-12-13T18:44:00.000+00:002007-12-13T18:44:46.354+00:00Nottingham<div style='text-align:center;margin:0px auto 10px;'><A HREF='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjAQ7zgXFA3NDHUqVK9HafTuzHcKtoG_Jm4cFNLAnLnKY5lXLHOLDI7cEUcFhlidacruh9R11-xnSN2e9F5jPPHkRaUC-ijV65qN5QqJM0PR6P2u2clM90i_vEo3rTkuwwOdvfx/s1600-h/Council+House+from+south+7.jpg'><IMG SRC='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjAQ7zgXFA3NDHUqVK9HafTuzHcKtoG_Jm4cFNLAnLnKY5lXLHOLDI7cEUcFhlidacruh9R11-xnSN2e9F5jPPHkRaUC-ijV65qN5QqJM0PR6P2u2clM90i_vEo3rTkuwwOdvfx/s320/Council+House+from+south+7.jpg' border=0 alt='' id='BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_' ></A> </div><div style='clear:both; text-align:CENTER'><a href='http://picasa.google.com/blogger/' target='ext'><img src='http://photos1.blogger.com/pbp.gif' alt='Posted by Picasa' style='border: 0px none ; padding: 0px; background: transparent none repeat scroll 0% 50%; -moz-background-clip: initial; -moz-background-origin: initial; -moz-background-inline-policy: initial;' align='middle' border='0' /></a></div>Colin Fhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01669190041233124923noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8771447.post-89030039822425104782007-12-11T18:52:00.000+00:002007-12-11T18:58:32.661+00:00A couple of John's paintings<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiOwkOeQ662QrtFR0ErLYC08mDo4_7Ane8FhXnFsiHbGh7iJTTYFC377qVmXPOeOrPXGMfETf8K8SFvZ0FMlSqM_yF53EArcxlB9OwHX1JCOVUKyd1c3oHlw40BkfSMKabFEvxA/s1600-h/John+Pooler.jpg"><img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiOwkOeQ662QrtFR0ErLYC08mDo4_7Ane8FhXnFsiHbGh7iJTTYFC377qVmXPOeOrPXGMfETf8K8SFvZ0FMlSqM_yF53EArcxlB9OwHX1JCOVUKyd1c3oHlw40BkfSMKabFEvxA/s320/John+Pooler.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5142791551214578930" /></a>Colin Fhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01669190041233124923noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8771447.post-35874184058232767012007-12-09T17:09:00.001+00:002007-12-09T17:10:57.313+00:00Hey! check out my friend John Pooler's paintingsColin Fhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01669190041233124923noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8771447.post-87784944327064502502007-11-01T18:44:00.000+00:002007-11-01T18:49:00.102+00:00Queens Walk The Meadows Nottingham<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiAqmhboPilKTao_WejgK7ozRHOH4Isxd88yngoWFnheGsblEm8JE1_tAFbwr0W2nnSLH_aQjjfrpxaSVkD-HmacN4bhYfc4A1pk8okdEMGkF3ljSQHiSAMzw-IC-XLCfGob5lB/s1600-h/311007+097.JPG"><img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiAqmhboPilKTao_WejgK7ozRHOH4Isxd88yngoWFnheGsblEm8JE1_tAFbwr0W2nnSLH_aQjjfrpxaSVkD-HmacN4bhYfc4A1pk8okdEMGkF3ljSQHiSAMzw-IC-XLCfGob5lB/s320/311007+097.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5127945156756445874" /></a>Colin Fhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01669190041233124923noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8771447.post-27873696364613676572007-11-01T18:35:00.000+00:002007-11-01T18:40:31.558+00:00River Trent Embankment Nottingham<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhSKm3WXcSZhjxs3mDqrKfcbCb59sjEu9onyZWqQnTUX8mOmWe5c5SOa0C0zIJMTQUWc4l6yg-mqVZ1qVGGUpPIMPeUH24NnbUWQptS8LrUMdHFmtqORK-hZAfzofWml0_A8S5K/s1600-h/311007+093.JPG"><img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhSKm3WXcSZhjxs3mDqrKfcbCb59sjEu9onyZWqQnTUX8mOmWe5c5SOa0C0zIJMTQUWc4l6yg-mqVZ1qVGGUpPIMPeUH24NnbUWQptS8LrUMdHFmtqORK-hZAfzofWml0_A8S5K/s320/311007+093.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5127943494604102306" /></a>Colin Fhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01669190041233124923noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8771447.post-8455474709512378272007-09-13T20:18:00.001+01:002007-09-13T20:21:31.311+01:00Red Arrows Torquay<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEha73vIgnraHl2kCRbGsEaUvVTSOCk3X_Y7hQW8rgO9yZocRH8svc7ozKAF2kCthUNMuzWCiHR4aG_sqssSUkcVWjvhmps5v4c2o9YUCS104tkgSAhV4tECFket2WZhT1wiZtlQ/s1600-h/Toquay+2007080.JPG"><img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEha73vIgnraHl2kCRbGsEaUvVTSOCk3X_Y7hQW8rgO9yZocRH8svc7ozKAF2kCthUNMuzWCiHR4aG_sqssSUkcVWjvhmps5v4c2o9YUCS104tkgSAhV4tECFket2WZhT1wiZtlQ/s320/Toquay+2007080.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5109770954545174818" /></a>Colin Fhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01669190041233124923noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8771447.post-33466671244439225442007-09-06T17:02:00.000+01:002007-09-06T17:13:48.209+01:00Devon 2007<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgt-3JaRjfHWrjzdiXUXVJGijayBNX9d07MbfElLmuk6nxHEi6IC_TSKi3RpIEl_WvXIBKibWWvIPU2ulHQ4pIg7tOuZ2a7W7w1wLDRvrWXyoidZtVOxBhVKvLaYDPqvOvB1mKw/s1600-h/Toquay+2007032.JPG"><img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgt-3JaRjfHWrjzdiXUXVJGijayBNX9d07MbfElLmuk6nxHEi6IC_TSKi3RpIEl_WvXIBKibWWvIPU2ulHQ4pIg7tOuZ2a7W7w1wLDRvrWXyoidZtVOxBhVKvLaYDPqvOvB1mKw/s320/Toquay+2007032.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5107124781522878146" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhrKjnwCKMiU4lR7nNrhti4Pc2QDkYELBDCgwXfJnE0wH7RVfhvAdhW2uKAOqrqCRhYghYh-SRU0FmqaV1_oTk8JFzvBzqnkcSsQlWXl8RrCmgFcbSzKkjAU8jwQs63cOj4WWdb/s1600-h/Toquay+2007036.JPG"><img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhrKjnwCKMiU4lR7nNrhti4Pc2QDkYELBDCgwXfJnE0wH7RVfhvAdhW2uKAOqrqCRhYghYh-SRU0FmqaV1_oTk8JFzvBzqnkcSsQlWXl8RrCmgFcbSzKkjAU8jwQs63cOj4WWdb/s320/Toquay+2007036.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5107124790112812754" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiZVC4EH4NaoAc6c3JQ2gargispaASmC-6yLnfb0xS0Z4_cmpa8SjXXfIPYROzC7ItLRnK7-uCpNM2EJSAXs34DkaS-lir8HmEFULcHHACcskAEKZKYjdiN9SdZD8viF80z-D6K/s1600-h/Toquay+2007018.JPG"><img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiZVC4EH4NaoAc6c3JQ2gargispaASmC-6yLnfb0xS0Z4_cmpa8SjXXfIPYROzC7ItLRnK7-uCpNM2EJSAXs34DkaS-lir8HmEFULcHHACcskAEKZKYjdiN9SdZD8viF80z-D6K/s320/Toquay+2007018.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5107124802997714658" /></a>Colin Fhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01669190041233124923noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8771447.post-84174239119401773342007-07-17T18:13:00.000+01:002007-07-17T18:14:12.700+01:00The Alchemist<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: 1in; text-indent: 0.5in;"><span lang="EN-GB"><o:p><br /></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-GB"><span style=""> </span>Through the crack in the door, I can see my Master at his work. Strange smelling brews drip into glass bottles. Every so often he tends the little fire he has made below the bottle, and he examines with an eyeglass, a magnifying lens he has told me, the contents of the bottle.</span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-GB"><span style=""> </span>Suddenly, a crack sounds, the bottle spills its contents into the fire and puts it out. </span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-GB"><span style=""> </span>"Duffin!" he cries, "Duffin, where are you, you idler, you waster of time and energy."</span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-GB"><span style=""> </span>"Here, Master" I cry from my bolt hole, and then rush forwards with cloths, and a pail of water. </span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-GB"><span style=""> </span>"Take care not to get this substance on your hands" he warns, "Use much water to wash it away, and test it with a little rag to see if it will burn."</span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-GB"><span style=""> </span>"A liquid that burns?" says I.</span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-GB"><span style=""> </span>"There are many that burn, and they are called humours, you must take note Lad. And do not let this liquid touch iron, for it will fizz and crackle and scald."</span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-GB"><span style=""> </span>"Well I never," says </span><st1:place><span lang="EN-GB">I.</span></st1:place><span lang="EN-GB"> "A liquid that will burn a metal."</span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-GB"><span style=""> </span>"Keep your wits about you, Lad, and keep this all to yourself." He drew his finger across his mouth and held his finger up in front of him. It was both a warning to keep silent, and a threat. A very gentle one mind, not like a clout across the ear or a boot up the backside. That was about as far as my Master went. As far as he needed to, for I was in truth both terrified of his powers, and in awe of this kind and gentle old man. Old, but I don't really know how old, for he has looked exactly the same this past twelve years that I have served him. Gentle, for that is what he is. In all the time I have known him, he has taken the time and trouble to explain his doings, and me a half-wit! But he has kindly tried to show me that the Alchemy that he practices is naught but natural law, but I do fear that if certain priests were to apprehend him in the course of his experiments, then he would have to do some fast talking.</span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-GB"><span style=""> </span>That being said, my Master does have friends in high places. There are many nights when Sir Jeffrey this and Sir Harry that make a call, and I have even seen certain high ups in the Church make their secret ways up and down the back stairs. There was once even a lady. A very distinguished Lady by her dress, who came to call. My Master is tall, but she was taller, and pale, oh so pale that it made me shiver. It was the only time that my Master has called me from my bolt hole, in the cupboard by the fire, and asked me, asked me mind to leave the room and wait outside. </span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-GB"><span style=""> </span>I was not supposed to listen, I know, but of course I caught a sentence or two. </span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-GB"><span style=""> </span>"My Lord Cabraham," she said. I had not heard him called thus before. People usually called him Nicodemus the Sage, or Master Nicodemus. "My Lord, I have a great boon to ask of you, and I have little to offer in return." </span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-GB"><span style=""> </span>"You are the daughter of my sister, I take no payment from my family. Pray ask what you will, and if is at all within my power I will comply" he replied.</span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-GB"><span style=""> </span>The words got quieter then and I could hear little else, but what I did appeared to be in a strange language, not Latin, or Greek for I know a little of them. No, this language had shrieks and whistles, almost birdlike, but not unlovely. I heard the phrase, "Sometimes these magics do not work on this plane," then I heard the door close. Later I let myself back into the room. I dare not question my Master for I did not want him to know I had been listening.</span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-GB"><span style=""> </span>In the next few weeks he arose very early, and I of course with him. He constructed what appeared to be a great square bath; easily large enough to immerse a man, and then spent many days filling it with I know not what mixtures. He occasionally consulted one of the very large books that were on the very top shelf of his laboratory, as he called it. He read, committed to memory and returned the book, almost as if the book would suffer if it were out of place. Those books were too heavy for me to lift by myself, I know because I tried one day and it was as if they were stuck like glue to the shelf. My Master though, he handled them as if they were feathers. It is all very strange to me.</span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-GB"><span style=""> </span>He said that we were constructing a portal, a gateway to the heavens. I know of but one heaven, but I know that my Master is extremely wise and knows many things that others do not, so I kept mum and did what he asked. After a few days the contents of the bath seemed to turn into a jelly. My Master would spend many hours testing the surface and adding smaller and smaller amounts into the mixture. He would then stir very, very slowly and test again. He said that he was tuning it, much as one would tune a mandolin. I am familiar with that, as I have played upon the mandolin since I was given one by my Master five years ago. He taught me to play a simple tune, and chuckled as I jumped and shouted after I had made my first piece of music. How I love that mandolin!</span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-GB"><span style=""> </span>When the jelly was tuned, and he was happy, he blew into it, emitting a bird cry and the surface folded inwards like a giant bubble. He called again into the bubble, this time a series of sounds. There came back not my Masters' sounds but answering sounds all beautiful as the night my Master met the pale young woman. </span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-GB"><span style=""> </span>Two weeks later, it was a very cold winter's night, and the stars shone like diamonds in a black velvet sky, the pale lady appeared again. She came as before, but dressed so like a queen in all her coronation glory. She removed her cape and her body seemed to glow from within. On her forehead the skin glowed like gold and a single eye seemed to be in the centre, with an iris of emerald.</span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-GB"><span style=""> </span>The Master kissed her lightly on the lips then led her gently to the portal. He blew on it, and a hand lifted through the surface. She stepped over the edge and into the portal. She took the hand that waited, and then she sang with the strange tongue that I had heard them speak, before as she slowly descended into the pool, and was gone.</span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-GB"><span style=""> </span>For some reason I was crying. I think it was her beauty, and the loss from this world of such beauty. Master Nicodemus took me by the shoulder, and said,</span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-GB"><span style=""> </span>"You know, young Duffin, you may have all the world can offer you, but unless your heart is settled, then you will always want more. My niece there, oh yes, I know you know who she is, she could have had any husband in this world, but her heart lies in another. I grieve for I will never see her again. She cannot come back, and I cannot leave, for I am destined to guard this portal now that it opened."</span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-GB"><span style=""> </span>"Guard the portal?" queried I," 'gainst what?"</span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-GB"><span style=""> </span>"The many things in my world that may invade yours," He said.</span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-GB"><span style=""> </span>"Then close it! Destroy it!" said I forgetting my place in fear.</span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-GB"><span style=""> </span>"Not so easy, the thing. This portal, once opened will remain opened for a thousand of your years, and we must remain ever vigilant, taking no sleep until time has healed this opening. Come young Duffin, I have much to teach you, and you have much to learn before I can take my rest. You will become a guardian of the portal. But first, I think, you had best put the kettle on for a little rose petal tea."</span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-GB"><span style=""> </span>I think it was then that I caught sight of a wink from somewhere in the middle of his forehead.</span></p>Colin Fhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01669190041233124923noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8771447.post-57301500091001939602007-07-01T20:01:00.000+01:002007-07-01T20:02:24.847+01:00Mini Sagas<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;" align="center"><u><span style="font-size: 20pt;" lang="EN-GB"><o:p><span style="text-decoration: none;"> </span></o:p></span></u></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;" align="center"><u><span style="font-size: 20pt;" lang="EN-GB">Mini Sagas<o:p></o:p></span></u></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;" align="center"><!--[if gte vml 1]><v:line id="_x0000_s1026" style="'position:absolute;left:0;text-align:left;z-index:1'" from="61.2pt,13pt" to="61.2pt,200.2pt" allowincell="f"><v:line id="_x0000_s1028" style="'position:absolute;left:0;text-align:left;z-index:3'" from="61.2pt,13pt" to="342pt,13pt" allowincell="f"><v:line id="_x0000_s1029" style="'position:absolute;" from="342pt,13pt" to="342pt,200.2pt" allowincell="f"><![endif]--><!--[if !vml]--><span style=""> <table align="left" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0"> <tbody><tr> <td height="16" width="81"><br /></td> </tr> <tr> <td><br /></td> <td><br /></td> </tr> </tbody></table> </span><!--[endif]--><u><span style="font-size: 20pt;" lang="EN-GB"><o:p><span style="text-decoration: none;"></span></o:p></span></u></p> <span style="font-size: 20pt;" lang="EN-GB">50 words!!!<o:p></o:p></span> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;" align="center"><span style="font-size: 20pt;" lang="EN-GB">Title up to 15 words<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;" align="center"><span style="font-size: 20pt;" lang="EN-GB">Plot<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;" align="center"><span style="font-size: 20pt;" lang="EN-GB">Character with dialogue<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;" align="center"><span style="font-size: 20pt;" lang="EN-GB">Movement<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;" align="center"><span style="font-size: 20pt;" lang="EN-GB">Drama<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;" align="center"><span style="font-size: 20pt;" lang="EN-GB">Satisfying ending<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;" align="center"><!--[if gte vml 1]><v:line id="_x0000_s1027" style="'position:absolute;left:0;text-align:left;z-index:2'" from="61.2pt,16.2pt" to="342pt,16.2pt" allowincell="f"><![endif]--><!--[if !vml]--><span style=""> <table align="left" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0"> <tbody><tr> <td height="21" width="81"><br /></td> </tr> <tr> <td><br /></td> <td><img src="file:///C:/DOCUME%7E1/x/LOCALS%7E1/Temp/msohtml1/01/clip_image002.gif" shapes="_x0000_s1027" height="2" width="376" /></td> </tr> </tbody></table> </span><!--[endif]--><span style="font-size: 20pt;" lang="EN-GB"><o:p> </o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><b style=""><span style="font-size: 20pt;" lang="EN-GB"><o:p> </o:p></span></b></p> <br /> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;" align="center"><span style="font-size: 20pt;" lang="EN-GB">The Clown<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;" align="center"><span lang="EN-GB"><o:p> </o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;" align="center"><span lang="EN-GB">Alberto swings onto the waiting trapeze. </span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;" align="center"><span lang="EN-GB">The handbar has been greased</span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;" align="center"><span lang="EN-GB"><span style=""> </span>a little, not so you'd notice.</span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;" align="center"><span lang="EN-GB">With the next swing, Alberto launches himself into infinity.</span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;" align="center"><span lang="EN-GB"><span style=""> </span>Gina, the bareback rider cries "Oh!" </span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;" align="center"><span lang="EN-GB">Lampoon, the clown giggles," </span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;" align="center"><span lang="EN-GB">Surely the greatest of my jokes."</span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;" align="center"><span lang="EN-GB"><span style=""> </span>He will be the first to comfort Gina.</span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;" align="center"><span lang="EN-GB"><o:p> </o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;" align="center"><span style="font-size: 20pt;" lang="EN-GB"><o:p> </o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;" align="center"><span style="font-size: 20pt;" lang="EN-GB">The Three Brethren<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;" align="center"><span style="font-size: 20pt;" lang="EN-GB"><o:p> </o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;" align="center"><span lang="EN-GB">In the Church of the Three Brethren, there was only one tomb left to fill. </span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;" align="center"><span lang="EN-GB">Duncan MacLean, clothed in shadow, waited, ritual knife in hand.</span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;" align="center"><span lang="EN-GB">The new priest carried the wine and the host.</span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;" align="center"><span lang="EN-GB">A flash in the gloom, "Odin!" </span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;" align="center"><st1:city><st1:place><span lang="EN-GB">Duncan</span></st1:place></st1:City><span lang="EN-GB">'s beloved church now boasts the relics of three saints.</span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;" align="center"><span style="font-size: 20pt;" lang="EN-GB">The Mallet<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;" align="center"><span style="font-size: 20pt;" lang="EN-GB"><o:p> </o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;" align="center"><span lang="EN-GB">In the battle, Hasrubal pulled out his chisel and placed it on the head of his elephant. </span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;" align="center"><span lang="EN-GB">He remembered the hours playing with the young elephant,</span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;" align="center"><span lang="EN-GB">How the jealous elephant had trampled his mistress, the dancer Salene. </span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;" align="center"><span lang="EN-GB">He remembered the order, "If the animal is wounded, bring down the mallet!"</span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;" align="center"><span style="font-size: 20pt;" lang="EN-GB"><o:p> </o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;" align="center"><span style="font-size: 20pt;" lang="EN-GB">Thunderstorms and Neon Signs<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;" align="center"><span style="font-size: 20pt;" lang="EN-GB"><o:p> </o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;" align="center"><span lang="EN-GB">The jukebox played Hank Williams' "Thunderstorms and Neon Signs."</span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;" align="center"><span lang="EN-GB">Towards the </span><st1:place><span lang="EN-GB">Gulf of Mexico</span></st1:place><span lang="EN-GB"> the thunderheads roared.</span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;" align="center"><span lang="EN-GB">"Reckon it'll be here come nightfall," said Jed,</span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;" align="center"><span lang="EN-GB">"I reckon Rosie'll need some comfort", he leered.</span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;" align="center"><span lang="EN-GB">With the next roar I shot him in the back.</span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;" align="center"><span lang="EN-GB">"Maybe this afternoon then," said Jed, dying.</span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;" align="center"><span lang="EN-GB"><o:p> </o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;" align="center"><span style="font-size: 20pt;" lang="EN-GB">The Girl from Ipanema<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;" align="center"><span lang="EN-GB"><o:p> </o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;" align="center"><span lang="EN-GB">Juanita leans against her beau, the incomparable Jose.</span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;" align="center"><span lang="EN-GB"><span style=""> </span>The roar of a motorcycle and Juanita's shoulder bag is stripped from her arm.</span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;" align="center"><span lang="EN-GB"><span style=""> </span>Eduardo the dwarf swings into action, vaults two cars and lands on the thief.</span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;" align="center"><span lang="EN-GB">Juanita and Jose laugh as Eduardo returns.</span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;" align="center"><span lang="EN-GB">"It was nothing."</span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;" align="center"><span lang="EN-GB">"I know," she says.</span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;" align="center"><span lang="EN-GB"><o:p> </o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;" align="center"><span lang="EN-GB"><o:p> </o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;" align="center"><span lang="EN-GB"><o:p> </o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;" align="center"><span lang="EN-GB"><o:p> </o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;" align="center"><span lang="EN-GB"><o:p> </o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;" align="center"><span lang="EN-GB"><o:p> </o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;" align="center"><span style="font-size: 20pt;" lang="EN-GB">Fairy Dancing<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;" align="center"><span style="font-size: 20pt;" lang="EN-GB"><o:p> </o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;" align="center"><span lang="EN-GB">Diana slept and her</span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;" align="center"><span lang="EN-GB">dream brought a fairy dancing on her head, spreading fairy powder.</span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;" align="center"><span lang="EN-GB">"You ask for a gift, I will give you mine." As she danced she left a row of footprints in her wake</span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;" align="center"><span lang="EN-GB">Morning came, and Diana's forehead had been enhanced with a ring of pimples.</span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;" align="center"><span style="font-size: 20pt;" lang="EN-GB"><o:p> </o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;" align="center"><span style="font-size: 20pt;" lang="EN-GB">The Great Houdiana Jones<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;" align="center"><span lang="EN-GB"><o:p> </o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;" align="center"><span lang="EN-GB">Hanging by a thread, Houdinana, the great escape artiste twisted and cavorted. </span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;" align="center"><span lang="EN-GB">The crowd gasped and shouted "Bravo!"</span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;" align="center"><span lang="EN-GB">First one strap then another.</span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;" align="center"><span lang="EN-GB">It was only as he removed the straight jacket that he realised that it was the straight jacket that was attached to the thread. </span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;" align="center"><span lang="EN-GB">"Aaaargh!" he cried.</span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;" align="center"><span lang="EN-GB"><o:p> </o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;" align="center"><span lang="EN-GB"><o:p> </o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;" align="center"><span style="font-size: 20pt;" lang="EN-GB">Zen Lesson<o:p></o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;" align="center"><span lang="EN-GB"><o:p> </o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;" align="center"><span lang="EN-GB">Hari, great sage, sits under a flowering cherry. </span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;" align="center"><span lang="EN-GB">He thinks, "This is sublime." </span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;" align="center"><span lang="EN-GB">His student Sen, is disgusted "You are a lazy Old Man! </span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;" align="center"><span lang="EN-GB">You said you had no time to teach me!" he scorns.</span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;" align="center"><span lang="EN-GB">"You are correct", says Hari, "but I am a great sage, and you are not!"</span></p>Colin Fhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01669190041233124923noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8771447.post-59027038343036614332007-06-18T19:06:00.000+01:002007-06-22T12:01:26.825+01:00There is a world....<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi_oZbpxFzRfD_xXQTRgeHQC1TLbPkwt0f0DmdI8pAt2zoClXqdZxJ_DUuu68cYZBWUl1E-YQTJlniLt9oeqD5iiqPPC6gf50sJWo1ZRj_7zi0rWEUDVZvzXjzxpeVEw_xYaEfU/s1600-h/There+is+a+world.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi_oZbpxFzRfD_xXQTRgeHQC1TLbPkwt0f0DmdI8pAt2zoClXqdZxJ_DUuu68cYZBWUl1E-YQTJlniLt9oeqD5iiqPPC6gf50sJWo1ZRj_7zi0rWEUDVZvzXjzxpeVEw_xYaEfU/s320/There+is+a+world.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5077468211709505346" border="0" /></a><br />All these headlines from one edition of New Scientist produced a more fundamental message....Colin Fhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01669190041233124923noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8771447.post-87538388989970724342007-04-26T18:36:00.000+01:002007-04-26T18:42:43.241+01:00Black Pig Border Morris Men<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgmVyzuUR72bcDdGhepUOkUeM_SB9EXqkJ2NqX_pXmJt3vAfYaCu2os2d0AVFttbsyxskv1mbCx4yJj-FQgdoYG0Xvngq82J3yM7tb_c70H8-OvDsPy4PIRbTkdhlhLN5IrwiiU/s1600-h/Morris+Men+April+2007+027.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgmVyzuUR72bcDdGhepUOkUeM_SB9EXqkJ2NqX_pXmJt3vAfYaCu2os2d0AVFttbsyxskv1mbCx4yJj-FQgdoYG0Xvngq82J3yM7tb_c70H8-OvDsPy4PIRbTkdhlhLN5IrwiiU/s320/Morris+Men+April+2007+027.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5057793353499337506" border="0" /></a><br />At Nottingham 's new City square (Town hall square aka Slab Square)Colin Fhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01669190041233124923noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8771447.post-40455410812105029352007-04-03T18:55:00.000+01:002007-04-03T18:55:51.324+01:00Superconductors inspire quantum test for dark energy - space - 03 April 2007 - New Scientist Space<a href="http://space.newscientist.com/article/dn11523">Superconductors inspire quantum test for dark energy - space - 03 April 2007 - New Scientist Space</a>Colin Fhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01669190041233124923noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8771447.post-20298311153996258012007-04-02T16:41:00.000+01:002007-04-02T16:49:17.820+01:00Jersey Zoo<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjmYZryFSnr4AoI3ufQgjuQG-OypOhZS27rwQ0Kd88InP6fCTMOs5zLKuXVW_a3qt-tUL5njmN6uFgDSaPgd8S5aeR8ZqjkO2NWFrKE0Q0zVUY5i38KtFI_8I_gbUxdfT21Zxoe/s1600-h/Jersey+2007+056.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjmYZryFSnr4AoI3ufQgjuQG-OypOhZS27rwQ0Kd88InP6fCTMOs5zLKuXVW_a3qt-tUL5njmN6uFgDSaPgd8S5aeR8ZqjkO2NWFrKE0Q0zVUY5i38KtFI_8I_gbUxdfT21Zxoe/s320/Jersey+2007+056.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5048858311954061458" border="0" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiuP4gGhxC_mPqxOIwnPdq5pTkvfyzFpgKEon12YV8R7n8WEUE5sVw2RHPH-h9Vmwo86B1eFpXxv4glqnhfiGZmbAEm1hIeOYaPgXTeGetdMETl2k0b2_AvHeDxqarxs3dADf7x/s1600-h/Jersey+2007+102.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiuP4gGhxC_mPqxOIwnPdq5pTkvfyzFpgKEon12YV8R7n8WEUE5sVw2RHPH-h9Vmwo86B1eFpXxv4glqnhfiGZmbAEm1hIeOYaPgXTeGetdMETl2k0b2_AvHeDxqarxs3dADf7x/s320/Jersey+2007+102.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5048858320543996066" border="0" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh29rOtECCyGKjEKrw1ch-JVRyTG6G-lYyE_wVSWrFMIHQBWc7T9wtZQjmkL9Ih9zLv9UnJAH3E-VsQS2cP_lb5KPvUs-8Ji9als5GL2z9TSa1R52Dr7WIkuFu4yYbTk8TK0WJ6/s1600-h/Jersey+2007+115.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh29rOtECCyGKjEKrw1ch-JVRyTG6G-lYyE_wVSWrFMIHQBWc7T9wtZQjmkL9Ih9zLv9UnJAH3E-VsQS2cP_lb5KPvUs-8Ji9als5GL2z9TSa1R52Dr7WIkuFu4yYbTk8TK0WJ6/s320/Jersey+2007+115.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5048858329133930674" border="0" /></a><br />Gerald Durrel StatueColin Fhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01669190041233124923noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8771447.post-39086482125877561752007-03-12T16:11:00.000+00:002007-03-12T17:05:36.610+00:00Creating an Oil Portrait<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiB5g0DEaqv0puv-l7CS07fVQPJWFJo4n5RzW2YHo39GQM854ctSjALNHdiKsmow9ZAm9-q5j5uTTKKriFZEjZiMHRk-wNxLYC9EjvVmjbk-07d38Sg-5Km29eGNoVzTBZfl2td/s1600-h/Lil19.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiB5g0DEaqv0puv-l7CS07fVQPJWFJo4n5RzW2YHo39GQM854ctSjALNHdiKsmow9ZAm9-q5j5uTTKKriFZEjZiMHRk-wNxLYC9EjvVmjbk-07d38Sg-5Km29eGNoVzTBZfl2td/s320/Lil19.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5041077721441877042" border="0" /></a><br />OK, so this is the final product!Colin Fhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01669190041233124923noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8771447.post-66884620960221955462007-02-19T20:44:00.000+00:002007-02-19T20:46:18.843+00:00Nottingham Council house from the south<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjbowERZ6Fe4_z2ArpJgA89BYgpesnGelJcLYWyYJObrNbVwBQNufPs1YaB71L-TSjlPe_3GePGjEzakjfUNBKP26FbsZuWrKDxFBWAUWRUQ71V1EhcFk8oTEFFQ3tvp4fgTCXL/s1600-h/Council+House+from+south.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjbowERZ6Fe4_z2ArpJgA89BYgpesnGelJcLYWyYJObrNbVwBQNufPs1YaB71L-TSjlPe_3GePGjEzakjfUNBKP26FbsZuWrKDxFBWAUWRUQ71V1EhcFk8oTEFFQ3tvp4fgTCXL/s320/Council+House+from+south.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5033349131815409058" border="0" /></a>Colin Fhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01669190041233124923noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8771447.post-45258125791377545482007-02-19T20:39:00.000+00:002007-02-19T20:43:57.314+00:00Popeye village, Malta<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg8OLVUjz8cGbLps5WiKEZ_Vrk4cXtEocNk4q_krAUv9gmetmzZXGANYO5XTX0RX9lEq1AQT6AeUyZGMiFwdSomy5O9ReVzL3kVCuKlg3tgWPEqzAruruLjjjrTaarn-PiKG3CS/s1600-h/popeye.gif"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg8OLVUjz8cGbLps5WiKEZ_Vrk4cXtEocNk4q_krAUv9gmetmzZXGANYO5XTX0RX9lEq1AQT6AeUyZGMiFwdSomy5O9ReVzL3kVCuKlg3tgWPEqzAruruLjjjrTaarn-PiKG3CS/s320/popeye.gif" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5033348732383450514" border="0" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiONVHidXHqEbqG32Lp82eDquLHG-Owvqx3Gcw7btUuRWoa8HYO4BjDh117TusYJAt_5NYlDBn_MtyBE5x1_pHpqehYEWowc7GZD4hxXxem9ipWheAPVZd47885fU7LMisvHvTY/s1600-h/popeye.gif"><br /></a>Colin Fhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01669190041233124923noreply@blogger.com