It’s a cracker…

Well, Christmas is past for another year.

We have had a lovely time- we had an extra house guest as a friend had a burst pipe on Christmas eve.

Finally the hold of ice and snow has been loosened- it is raining at the moment, revealing slowly retreating treacherous sheets of wet ice.

Not a day to venture far from the fireside.

So as is my tradition, I think it is time for some bad cracker-type jokes (thanks Isobel for the raw material!)

Firstly for the numbers people

Apparently the  fattest knight at King Arthur’s round table was the very well fed Sir Cumference. He acquired  his size from consuming too much pi.

Next, for the geographers-

I thought I saw an eye doctor on an Alaskan island, but it turned out to be
an optical Aleutian

Now for the hardened drinkers-

She was only a whiskey maker, but he loved her still.

And the non-believers-

Atheism- the non-prophet organization.

For the sporty types-

He wondered why the ball just kept getting bigger. Then it hit him.

And my fellow poets-

Did you hear about the backward poet? He writes inverse.

For the engineers-

Two fish swim into a concrete wall. One turns to the other and says ‘Dam!’

For the long in the tooth-

Did you hear about the Sadistic Buddhist Dentist? His goal: to transcend dental medication.

And finally- for my fellow canoeists-

Two Eskimos sitting in a kayak were chilly so they lit a fire in the craft.
Unsurprisingly it sank,  proving once again that you can’t have your kayak and heat it.

(Perhaps I should get out more- despite the ice.)

Christmas unstability…

(Image from Medicins Sans Frontiers- here.)

Friends- as we celebrate the birth of Jesus, and the turning of a new year, may you be deeply blessed.

Happy Christmas to all

Chris

X

Unstable

.

It is said that light found its window on the world

Through the translucent globe

Of a baby’s eye

Still hooded from

The bloody froth of birth

Wide opened by the trauma

Of transition

.

And stories are told of how a stable

-all ammonium piss and shiny new shit

Became a gateway

For an indescribable goodness

To run through these streets

Like molten gold

In the gutters

.

The breath of the living God

Fluttering

This scrap of human flesh

.

Love

Vast as the roaring ocean

In every tiny heartbeat

.

What a way for the King to come


Some incense, a black box, and friendship…

Last night our little housegroup met. It was nothing out of the ordinary- there will be small groups of people meeting like this all over the country. But this one was special- because it was mine.

We sat round the fire, and read stories about the coming of light. We sang, and ate food.

Then we shared gifts.

We had one of those ‘secret Santa’ things where each of us drew a name from a hat, and had to buy a gift for £2, and write a blessing for them.

Mine was simply brilliant. It was a gift for both Soul and Spirit.

For the soul- a little box of frankincense, along with some charcoal and an account of the uses of incense in the Bible. It is just the right sort of gift for me, from a dear creative friend who knows me well and it made me cry.

For the Spirit, a little black box, labelled ‘Chris’s survival kit’ containing 10 cards that made me laugh out loud.

Here is a sample-

(The last one is a little reference to my little swim last February!)

Brilliant!

The view from the middle of the Clyde…

I braved the low temperatures and crossed over to ‘the other side’ today. My intention was to go to Helensburgh, but Greenock was full of slithering cars and covered in freezing fog, so I rather tamely retreated.

But no time is wasted. I made some phone calls from the ferry- and appreciated the stillness.

The ferry is a great place to do this. It moves at a steady slow pace- giving around 25 minutes just to sit and think. It sometimes seems a very long time, and other times no time at all.

Today I had the camera with me too…

Christmas turns all musical…

What a lovely day.

I have just sat down after being on the go all day- firstly to a local church where William was part of a Nativity play, and playing his Trombone-

Then home to shovel snow for a couple of hours so we could get the car down to the road.

Then around some local residential care homes for older people with some of the Aoradh crowd to sing Christmas carols- a few brass instruments, guitar, violin and piano. And all in all, it sounded lovely, considering our almost total lack of practice.

And finally to our friend’s Paul and Pauline (no they do not have a child called Paulette) for soup, and more music.

I eventually managed to persuade Emily to play some fiddle tunes, then Paul and I started singing through some old songs.

Including this one-

We had to be kicked out in the end. Ah well- good practice for New Year- if you are in the area, bring an instrument round to our house…