Category Archives: Musings

Working Windmill in Windy Wales (Pt II) All Grist to the Mill

George Orwell wasn’t a fan.
Of dying metaphors, that is, I’m not sure whether he was a fan of windmills or not.

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What’s not to like?

Windmills are wonderful. Literally.

It is an awesome thing to watch wind captured, to witness invisible swirls and draughts caught by, embraced by huge lumbering sails.
That great gigantic beehive coaxed into action by gusts of breeze and bluster.
Not just the wheat or barley adding grist, but the wind itself.
Without wind – grist grinds to a halt.

Which is what Orwell would have preferred:

‘Dying metaphors … a huge dump of worn-out metaphors which have lost all evocative power and are merely used because they save people the trouble of inventing phrases for themselves. Examples are: Ring the changes on, take up the cudgels for, toe the line, ride roughshod over, stand shoulder to shoulder with, play into the hands of, no axe to grind, grist to the mill…’

What dying metaphor would you add to his list?
Or have you invented your very own cliche?

My donation is not a metaphor, nor a cliche.
But it is the most overused/misused word in the history of words. And that is:

Absolutely.

Yes, absolutely. You’re absolutely right.
Absolutely no way. Absolutely perfect. Absolutely ridiculous.

Anyway. I absolutely must go. I’ve got grist to grind.

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April 30, 2014 · 7:18 am

Windy Wales Weekend with Windmills

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Forgive me, I haven’t been in touch for a while.

I’ve been abroad, over the border, across the water.

To Wales. For the Weekend.

Wow. Not a Washout. We enjoyed sunshine. Warm, dry, crinkly-eyed sunshine.

It’s worth writing about, because it’s the first time I’ve been to Welsh Wales for many years, having sworn never again – after two or three soggy, sodden, torrential, miserable visits in a row – would we venture into the land of Barabrith, Laverbread and Leeks.

We’ve all been there, flicking through the glossy Travel Section, pausing over some quaint Fisherman’s Cottage, or Shepherd’s Retreat. Or Drover’s Den.

What fun! Log burners, and Scrabble, and walks along the beach…

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The reality is the log burner spews out the cheap wet hunks of whatever, bought from the petrol station, and Scrabble ends in tears, too much cheating, too few vwls, and walks along the beach are tricky in Force 9 hail storms.

NO INTERNET. NO FOOTY ON SKY.

NO GARLIC/ROCKET or Organic Ice Cream. Noย Villa Maria.

Back to basics. But who wants basics? On holiday? Who wants to be wet, and cold and somewhere else?

So this weekend was a gamble. An outside chance. And it galloped home. I’m even thinking about booking again. But the possibility of four consecutive days of sunshine is remote.

Whoaaaa.

For the time being, I’ll look at my photos and smile – warmly – inwardly, and share two or three.

 

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So no bijouterie or beautiful bits and bobs today.

PoshPedlar’s been in Wales.

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Filed under Artisan, Community, Culture, English Countryside, Musings

Cheshire Cherry Blossom

Cheshire Cherry Blossom

โ€œRather than turning over a new leaf, prune your tree so that new leaves continue to blossom.โ€

Photograph taken this morning at Denzell Gardens in Cheshire.
Click on the photo for an interesting read about North West England’s heritage.

Let me know if you recognise the species… some kind of Cherry?

6 Comments

April 9, 2014 · 7:44 pm

What rhymes with amethyst?

What rhymes with amethyst?

Not a lot apparently.
Only rather alarming looking words ending in …cyst.
So it’s hardly surprising that there is little in the literary canon about the good old amethyst.
It just isn’t poetic enough.
Let’s try another approach. Take a look at the etymology.
Oh dear.
From the Greek ‘amethustos’ meaning ‘sober’, the amethyst will guard against drunkenness.
Here then, is a beautiful amethyst necklace for the lush in your life, a lush not fond of poetry.

Oh, and the Lady at The Telegraph, loves all things purple, especially the amethyst. It is the gem to buy in 2014.

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April 8, 2014 · 8:43 pm

Feeling Blue?

Feeling Blue?

These are lush.
And very bright.
Bright turquoise glass beads knotted as a necklace.

Maybe they’re more ‘Celeste’ – a bright sky blue. Or possibly ‘Pearl Mystique’ with a hint of teal.

Actually, I’m going for ‘Cerulean’.

Cerulean blue, first mentioned as a colour in 1590, derived from the Latin word ‘caelum’ meaning heaven or sky.

What do you think?

Anyway, this heavenly necklace doesn’t go back to 1590, but it is vintage.
And it can be yours, right here.

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April 6, 2014 · 10:28 am