it's september...

and the Beard was wondering about the illogicality of our months, days and possibly our hours.... as we all know, food is Saxon in the field, but french on the table... but how many of us have realised the fundamentalish dichotomy that has left our days english and our months roman.....??? to illustrate, we have a day of the sun, a dat of the moon, a day each for Tiw, Woden, Thunor and Frey, where our months are named for a roman dictator and his imperial nephew, a god of fever and someone two-faced... and some are rather unimaginatively the seventh, eighth, ninth and tenth months..... now, i here some of you saying, one of our days is Roman too... is Saturday not named after Saturn..... well, sorry to disillusion you classical buffs out there... its named after Saetere, who was possibly Loki.... who deserve kudos for teaching us how to grow grain.... admittedly, that was so that we could turn it into beer, but still..... nd I digress.... even the Germans, notoriously non adept at using latin, have stoopped to latin months.... despite the empire of Rome not actually conquering them... but then i lay the blame for tht squarely at the feet of the Church..... but my wondering was along the lines of not why did we change the months, but why did we not end up with latin days... the french got them after all..... Mars and Mercuri rule the days there.... personally i'm glad that we kept our good saxon days, and I must admit to hankering after our old months too.... and wondering why our Classical forebears, who we have been told ad nauseam were far more intelligent and cultured that our Saxon ancestors, seemed to run out of ideas when it came to naming months.... now, the Beard would far rather be celebrating his birthday at the beginning of Winterfylth, the time of felling trees for winter, rather than in the confusingly named Eighth Month (which of course is the tenth.....) at least the saxon names still have relevance to the time of year to which they apply.... Hot Month.... Easter Month.... Wolf Month.... Blood Month..... and they quite sensibly went from new moon to new moon, which is what a month should do..... and where the romans solved the problem of their 12 months not quite fitting the solar year by making their months unevn, the saxons and vikings simply had 13 of them every year, and kept the months and years eveer so slightly separate.... which to the Beard's eyes seems to suggest that they were ever so slightly cleverer.... but there we go.... suffice it to say, the Beard is not the only one that wishes for proper english months again..... and is also mulling over the idea of using paragraphs, a suggestion made to him by several aavid readers.... the problem being that such a stream of consciousness.... well.... brook of semi consciousness anyway.. doess not seem to lend itself to paragraphisation... although I did dabble with the idea of simply inserting a few line breaks in an attempt to imitate paragraphs..... but thought better of it.... but it does beg the question as to whether paragraphs would improve or disprove the beardiness.... and now, all that remains to be said is that Beard junior has started his gcses, a certain young lady is now filming in Dorset and Somerset, and the CYL's eldest will be soon off to the land of the Reconquista..... which leaves the Beard pondering on distance.... but of that, more later... the road is calling, and it just remains to be said that until all our months are as long as we would wish, Wisebeard salutes you!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Edges, hedges, and the being quite fed up of rhyming headlines....

So, as those who may know the Beard will attest, there is something in me that is abnormally attracted to Edges.... the areas where what is known drops away, and we are left staring over a sheer drop... the place where one thing abruptly and suddenly becomes something else.... don't get me wrong, smooth, blurred transitions are good too, and ambiguity is something i love, but edge just hold the edge on them.... so the weekend has been very good to me, with a trip to the area where lime become grit, the ridge between dark and white, similar to the conditions a young man of my fictional aquaintance is experiencing.... followe by a walk along Stanage edge, a literal drop.... but that got me to thinking of all the other edges we encounter in life..... now edges can be fun, can be frightening, can be all sorts of things.... there is the edge we encounter when going from one school to another, from school to work, the edges we all feel every now and then... now some of us feel these edges as a drop before us, like unexpectedly finding oneself on a cliff.... where others describe them as coming to the bottom of a cliff, either expectedly or otherwise, the resulting wall stopping them going forwards.... and of course, some of us get both.... now, the crux of the matter, if i may use such words, is this.. that the drop is scary, and the cliff seems insurmountable.... and then it seems that we can go no further.... and going back, as we all know is impossible.... so there we are stuck, unless we can screw our courage to the sticking place, and step off into the void, or begin that climb.... now, starngely, the drop is the scariestto see, but the easiest to get over... whereas the climb looks ok, but is harder and takes longer.... but that is no reason to stay where we are.... now, I've long been an advocate of jumping off cliffs (at least metaphorically...) and I'm not averse to climbing... but personally, I'd much rather have the drop.... at least usually there's only one way to go.... and you don't have the risk of accidentallygoing the other way.... but I digress... what I think i'm trying to say is that sometimes we all think we're stuck somewhere, but we're not... going on might be difficult or frightening, but it's the way to go.... the only way to go.... and usually it's worth it... as I keep saying to people.... its better to be at the bottom of the ladder you want to climb, than near the top of one you don't.... whether that has any relevance at all is beyond the beard.... but the other thing i tell everyone is Take The Chance.... it might work, it might not, but at least you'll know.... and one of the worst feelings in the world is regretting not taking the chance when it presents itself.... now, years ago, i was the sort to play it safe, but since decidingto take my own advice, I've been a lot lot happier... mainly down to the chance i took with a certain young lady.... and it remains only to be said that I'm tired, and i feel that the sleep i thought I was going to have twenty minutes ago actually seems to be descending upon me.... so I'll simply say goodnight, and that until we all get the ladders we want despite the snakes, Wisebeaard salutes you!!!!!!!!!!!

Knuckles, knockles, cockles and grockles....

So, the beard again is doing his best to prove that men (and I use the term loosely...) can simply (or even complicatedly) not multitask.... if you will forgive the splitting of a probable infininitive... in attempting to write a novel, fix up my bedroom, watch a Harry Potter film, and cut a plastic strip, all theBeard has actually managed is half a chapter of possible claptrap, a half hour snooze, a loss of interest in rupert Grint (but admittedly a renewed interest in Emma watson's jeans... I hasten to add she is over 17 in this one...)and the severance (without pay) of one of my own knuckles, with ensuance of blood over keys, sheets, wood, knife, and a round of toast (to be honest, a slightly trapezoid-with-squashed-arc of toast... but then i was a non-renowned geometrist for a few moments in my long ago youth.... but i digress...).... so, i hear you all ask, as I wait with baited ears, what has been happening to the family Beard since the last slightly boring update?? well, a series of lovely evenings, nights, mornings and afternoons (and usually in that order) with a certain young lady has distracted the hairiness of wisdom in the nicest of all possible ways.... including a trip to the Birmingham Art Gallery and museum with that personage and Beard Junior, in which mummies, champions and teapots featured in varying quantities, and above all a delectable dinner at the young lady's parents abode, complete with roast potatoes and good conversation with CYL pere..... accompanied by the younger Beard and the CYL's fantastically companionable offspring.... hello to the pair of them.... the occasion of course being the love of the Beard's birthday.... somewhere close to forty...... but a fantastic week for all concerned, I hope, with the prospect of rapid transit systems, lawnmowers, and of course cake... for cakes and birthdays go together, and so the Beard, wanting to puthis all into the special day did the speakable and put on his baker's hat.... a three tier sponge with fondant and soya cream (no milk for beards!!) resulted, and it seemed to be well accepted.... but again I digress.... the bleeding seems to have stopped, and i also seem to be a member of some disturbing thing going by the name of twitter, despite never having signed up.... hich brings mme to the subject of emails.... and especially the junk ones i seem to be getting at the moment.... as i said in my reply to the last one, If:I ;;dId"wanTM.y(PartS:ENLA@RGing:I@M damned@:If-I'll,LETAbuncHOfＳＰａｍｍｅｒＳ　ｗｈｏ　ＣａＮＴPUNCtuate LoooSE £W%ith Knive?s anywhere near my person...... especialy after witnessing what i can do to myself with one.... if I want viagra or any other blue pills I'll watch saturn 5 and start crying, and above all, let the Beard tell you all.... I really don't care how many different people email me, I refuse to believe tht this is National Jizz Week...... and i will not be passing it on to my friends.... but despite all the requests for bank details, the thing that bothers me is that none of these were actually sent to me... one was addressed to bobbysox@yahoo..... yet arrived in my Hotmail.... which begs the question, how!??!! and also politely requests the question, if these can get delivered to people other than the addressee, how many emails that i send are actually going astray into someone else's inbox? but there we are..... or possibly not..... now, Todd and Oslo are beckoning me back, as is a piece of nonsense verse (of which, more later) and also a soft pillow... oe of them will win, but I'm laying no bets..... so to the strains of Imogen heap and Tori Amos (who apparently has a frog on her toe) I shall bid you goodnight, an, as the possibly late dave Allen (must check if he is alive... its the least i can do) would say, may your god go with you... so, until we can all task as much multi as we would wish, Wisebeard Salutes you!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Richard the Third... and that's not rhyming slang....

but rather one of my favourite British (or fairly close to, anyway) monarchs, along with Canute, or Knut, Elizabeth I, and Macbeth, the last of whom deserves our sympathy simply for being married to someone called Gruach, which sounds like some archaic oat-based muesli.... but I digress.... today saw the Beard, along with the junior version, and a certain young lady paying our respects to the brave Duke of Gloucester, king for two years, and the last English King to die in battle so far.... as brave a man as one could wish to meet... and wouldn't history have been duifferent had he won....for a start we would have no Simnel cake at easter..... and that would apparently be a loss.... but it rounded off a fantastic weekend for all.... beginning at my second home (also known as the Scout Hut, for a car wash, during which the young lady's car became seen to be green, aa quick (or not so quick ) almost accidental fixing of the same car's cooling system, and the meeting of this beautiful person with the beard's parents over a carvery, the weekend wqs off to a good start.. and as to sunday, all I dare say is WOW!!! but yet again I digress... a strange encounter with the ex Mrs Beard and a lego brick was to follow, then a much appreciated trip to Wing Wah in Burton, that beloved all you can eatery.... and believe me, we ate! my usual behaviour in those places is simply to take a little bit of everything, and try it all... and sunday night was no disappointemnt.. the steak in red wine, although not seeming particualarly Chinese, was very tasty, and as usual, copious amounts of seaweed disappeared very quickly.... and the young lady herself was very impressed, despite the Beard becoming slightly distracted by the legs of another young lady sitting close by... but the hirsute one managed to pass it all off in the dubious name of research.. its all to do with novels, and the less said probably the better.... but today's bank holiday led us to the field of Bosworth, and the revamped visitor centre.... I remember going to it in the long agao, and sitting through old Billy's version of Bosworth fight, with larry Olivier doing his best crookback.... I must say the new film is far more accurate, and dare I say better acted.... and the CYL was very impressed, especially by the range of headgear available.... after a car-bound picnic (the Beard being proclaimed King of Tabbouleh) a stroll around the fields uncovered King Dick's well, and the alleged site of Good King Richard's death.... then a stroll around the canal, a discussion on the merits of the shewee, a cup of tea, and finally the drive home.... and a sorrowful parting.. but as I say, a great weekend..... and a few ideas.... the beard's plan for a kid's book is being well received in certain quarters, and several other possible publications are in the swimming around the head stage..... but of thsoe more later.... its time to hit the other pc (due it being severely uncooperative , and myself being a fan of the Regan method...)and get some of said ideas down in pixellated form.... so until we can all be brave in the thickest press of our enemies, Wisebeard salutes you!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Climate Change....

or to give it its usual misnomer Global warming, has reared its ugly head again, and the selfish part of me wishes to thank it for giving the Beard some lovely weather for his holiday.... which, strangely enough took place in two places, if the repetition may be forgiven.. and I'm sure it will be... first of all, a lovely few days in Anglesey, within Roman Legion swimming distance of the North wales Coast, courtesy of a certain young lady.... the holiday that is, not tthe swim...and a good chance to meet the elder of her two sons, who proved to be delightful, intelligent and incredibly fair minded.... and i'm not just saying that because of who reads this..!!! A morning of birdwatching at South Stack, a paddle in the sea with the young lady in question, a trip to the sea zoo ( one of Beard junior's favourite attractions) and a view of some gorgeous paintings at Oriel Ynys Mon (the Great Orme sky thingies.. breath taking.. wish I could remember the artist's name...).... time for home came too soon, but luckily for some, a trip to the ancient city of Jorvik followed.. my young lady's first ever.... and a very good trip it was.. Kudos to the Cavalier guest house..... although the less said about the sherry the better..... ACYL was impressed by the Jorvik centre, entranced by the Castle Museum, and absolutely gobsacked by the Minster.... so much so that we returned the next day and climbed the tower.... a cruise on the Ouse, a bewildering walk through York Dungeon and an anoraking expedition to the Rail Museum followed, with the Beard becoming a slight celebrity due to his once having ridden on Tornado's footplate.. and if you don't know what I'm talking about, why not???? the food was lovely.. good breakfasts at the Cavalier, and I would recommend to everyone El Piano, a fantastic vegan and gluten free tapas bar.... the only restaurant the beard can recall where he could order anything at all from the amazingly good menu... and they offer a discount to holders of a York pass.. of which more later... but I digress.... I was going to make some wise or otherwise statements about limiting the popoulation in order to help the environment, but instead I've waffled about my holiday.... suffice it to say, York was a big hit, and so was the Beard..... on a sadder note, a friend of mine, Simon Grant, fellow scout leader and giver of sun glasses, unfortunately died aged 44 last week... he'll be sorely missed by all.... especially Jim Muller if he throws up in his tent porch again.... "Gone Home," as we in Scouting would say....but with reference to the old adage, our Cherie has brought new life into the world as we always knew she would... and if my judgement is good (and it often is...) she'll be a fantastic mum.... but I digress again.... i'm sure Simon would have wanted the Beard to stay upbeat, so until all our gobs are smacked, Wisebeard salutes you!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

has it been this long????

the beard's life has been getting so busy of late that it seems the old blog, and its associated spelling and gramattical errors have been rather neglected.. which is a shame... or possibly not.... as you may know (I didn't...) this whole thing began as a way to get the old writing muscles working again, in order to restart the short and not so short story writing that has long been a beardly passion.... and it seems to have worked almost too well, with my hopefully forthcoming novel finally reaching 50,000 ish words, and several other bits and bobs happening.. on top of this Scouting, family concerns, and a certain young lady have been taking up my time.... in fact, (and thsi will surprise any familiar with the world of beardliness...) I spent time at a party the other night... held at a bar in good old Birmingham (still my favourite large conurbation) in honour of the birthday of a man I didn't even know existed.... but thankfully he turned out to be a work colleague of the beauty on my arm.... now, I say this will surprise many, for the beard is not really a party person.... in fact, the last time i went to a similar event i was about twenty years younger.... now, why i'm not really a party person will probably remain a mystery.... I have no objection to them in principle, but I believe the fact that i (through various means) avoided my own 18th speaks volumes..... being very fond of the sound of my own voice, the loudness of music tends to put me off.... as does the fact that alcohol is not my favourite tipple, and i have a remarkable tendency not to dance.. i even avoided doing that at my long ago wedding... which may explain a lot.... but I've always felt lonely, and parties just seem to reinforce that feeling of isolation, while promising to actually do the opposite..... all of which makes me sound a right miserable, not to mention ungrateful, bugger..... but there were a few triumphs during the night... it seems that my young lady's friends quite liked me, i got a kiss from the birthday boy, and best of all, i got to see my partner enjoying herself.... and this i think is what separates the bearded one from your average miserable party pooper... that i do in fact enjoy parties, but not in the same way as others... i like seeing people enjoy themselves, especially people i care about.... and i have to admit that my antipathy towards festivity (although to be honest, antipathy is too strong a word... even dislike is not mild enough.. perhaps antipasto would describe it better... or perhaps not....) is mainly down to the shyness that no one believes i possess.... for as some of my closer aquaintances will telll you, sometimes, i enter into the spirit, possibly too much occasionally..... and as any cod psychologist will tell you, the best way to overcome shyness is not to behave shyly..... which is what i usually attempt to do..... last saturday, i admit that i didn't screw my courage to the sticking place readily enough..... i admit i should have approached more people, put on my extrovert act and at least attempted to dance..... and next time i promise that i shall... and i never break promises..... but i don't digress, which is not a good sign.. easter week beckons, and with it travels to exotic and ancient cities... well, York and Holyhead anyway..... so bed calls me, and i must answer.. so until we alll become as shyless as we would wish to be, Wisebeard salutes you!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

back again.. sorry....

So, herevwe are again, and first the beard offers apologies, both sincere and otherwise, for all those (and I know you are few...) who have been missing the regular missives from the world of beardiness..... but the beard which is wise and inebriates rarely has been having a busy time of it lately.... for those of you who have visited Beardsheim in the past, a surprise will be in store next time you cross the two tone bridge (still saving up for the full Rainbow model...) ... the Beard, with the incredibly useful help of Beard Junior, has actually been having a real sort out.. and I mean, a real one.... avoiding the piles of old rubbish, hoarded mathoms and offcuts of facial hair just got too much, and eing a great fan of arts and crafts, the wise one decided that if it aint beautiful and useful, it aint stopping..... so all i have left is a photo of Jenny Agutter, and a can opener..... seriously though, a lot of the accumulated stuff has gone.... although true to form, some of the more bizarre stuff has remained..... so much so that i have managed to rid the heim of five sets of shelves.... and my kitchen now appears to be the nine feet by eighteen that it actually is.... the lounge is basically tidy (apart from the boot-sale-bound boxes..) and the bedroom is unrecognisable..... all this partly due to the influence of a certain young lady.... on top of this, despite the amount of time invested, the beard has visited the cinema, gone to a concert, and has been regulary working on model railway projects and the upcoming novel...... all of which has been fantastic..... catharsis and relaxation, hard work that has actually been refreshing..... a strange ting... and the relatonship with that aforementioned young lady is growing stronger and stronger..... so things are on the up..... and up.... and up..... its very reminiscent of the scene in V for Vendetta (the comic.. not the film, which i still haven't quite seen.... but I digress...) where Evey says to V something along the lines of "don't you find that sometimes you want to get rid of the stuff from the past, and et on with the future.... " I'll try to find the exact quote if i can be bothered..... which brings me to the subject of Watchmen.... and my fervent hope that the americans haven't ruined the finest comic book ever written.... but as the second act of Siegfried begins to play, the Beard realises the time, and must fly... so until we can all have a jolly good clear out, Wisebeard salutes you!!!!!!!!!!

Years ago.....

I was under the impression that Jim Carrey was a sort of cut price wrongly timed American versiion of Norman Wisdom.... i must say that I have revised that opinion since.. although I may say that I'm still not a big Ace Ventura fan..... the Mask I did enjoy, and Carrey's version of the Riddler was possibly the best bit of that Batman film... apart from Nicole Kidman in a tight black dress and heels, chained up... but I digress..... and I must say that I thought of him as avocet -like..... in that I did enjoy his first mainstream feature, the high school vampire flick, Once Bitten..... however, the man has grown on me.. I think he was possibly the only man alive who could have played man-in-the moon Andy Kaufman... and although he does tend to play Jim Carrey in most of his films, the role does actually fit most of his films... and lets be honest, it never harmed John wayne....or Norman Wisdom (of whom more later...) or Laurence Olivier for that matter... (waits for tomatoes...) but i digress yet again.... as it is, I really enjoyed Yes Man, his latest opus, in which he again plays Jim Carrey to good effect..... the film, based as it is on a true story, deviates from the truth greatly, as admitted by the author himself on radio2 a few days back..... but it is good... and one of its strengths ( or weaknesses, depending o your point of view..) is that it made the Beard think.. and Beard junior for that matter..... we both went expecting a replay of Liar Liar.... and to some extent thats what we got.. but only to some extent.... but think it made us do.... until I got back into scouting, I was the protagonist as he stood at the start of the film... making up excuses not to go out, for no other reason than that I couldn't be bothered.....and life was passing me by.... like Carrey's character, Scouting started me on the road to trying stuff again... saying yes when previously I would have said no.. now in my younger days i was very open to new experiences, but shyness closed me right up.... so i missed out on a lot.... especially between the ages of 13 and 21..... but I feel i'm more than making up for it now.... life is not a rehearsal... i still find myself saying no to simple things like going to the pub, but having watched the film i've decided to keep an eye on that.... and to make sure that if i say no, that there has to be a good reason....I'm certainly enjoying life a lot more at the mo, partly down to a certain young lady of my aquaintance..... and i have also determined that i'm going to stop moaning that people don't say thank you enough, and make a concerted effort to thank everyone who has ever affected my existence in a favourable way.... but it becomes late (or early..) and the realm of the electronic ether is tiring these wise old whiskers.. so until we can all say thanks and yes, Wisebeard salutes you!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!