There are those who say that I am priceless. It's even been said that I am precious. I've also been told that I'm a treasure. But today I found out my true worth.

All I need now is for the airline to class me as "excess baggage" and my self-esteem really will plummet!

Forget all about reality shows - let's bring back the good old TV sitcom. Yesterday everyone agreed that we missed the classic programmes. One of my blog friends came up with the following suggestion:

"Rising Damp, Yes Minister and Drop the Dead Donkey. If you combined the lot you might get Rising Minister drops dead donkey". Tylluanpenry.

What a good idea let's have some new "combination sitcoms"

Here's mine:

The Vicar of Dibley combined with It Ain't Half Hot Mum might give you "The Vicar Ain't Half Hot!"

What are your suggestions!

Yesterday I talked about rag and bone men and of course Steptoe and Son immediately sprung to mind. What a classic sitcom that was. This made me think of a few others that brightened TV land.

Sit down, put your feet up and let's have a coffee and a chat!

This morning I wrote a poem which took me back to my childhood days. I introduced the poem "Buttons" by talking about the Rag and Bone Man. Afterwards I thought it might be interesting to share a little history:

Historically the phrase “rag and bone man” referred to an individual who would travel the streets of a city with a horse-drawn cart and would collect old rags (for converting into fabric and paper), bones for making glue, scrap iron and other items, often trading them for other items of limited value.

They would use a distinctive call to alert householders, to their presence. The call was something similar to "rag-and-bone", delivered in a singsong fashion. Long usage tended to simplify the words, for instance down to "raa-boh", even to the point of incomprehensibility, although the locals clearly could identify who could make the call. This was satirized by the comedian Marty Feldman in his "Ay-oh frye" sketch, where he played a rag-and-bone man who, when asked, had no idea what his call meant. The British sitcom Steptoe and Son was based on a pair of rag and bone men.

Textile recycling originated in the Yorkshire Dales about 200 years ago, and the ‘rag and bone men’ of days past are now known as ‘textile recycling businesses’. Rag and bone men were an important component of society before automotive transport, and especially personal vehicles, made them unnecessary. Householders had limited ability to travel to collection points, so the various customers for rags, bones, and such materials relied on the rag and bone men to supply some of their materials.

A remarkable BBC documentary filmed in the 1950s, followed rag-and-bone men operating in London. One surprise revelation was that old clothes found a lucrative market in countries like India where they were re-sold for wearing.

Look out for the Indians!

Just the other day I posted a photograph of my wood nymph. I thought she was having a quiet bathe all alone but it seems that she had company! See the following comment from Adamantix's lovely wife:

Hi all, seans misses here, he showed me the pic and i hope u dont mind but i posted it on a spiritual site i work on, if u look to ur left on the pic ur see another, looks like a indian guide , also another on the left further back, and 1 in the water, that is a fab picture, can u see the circle of rippled water also. gonna be intresting to see what others onsite see in it, il let sean know hun and he can tell u

love mrs antix lol

Here is a quick link back to the picture - see what you think!

The following information now in:

Hi again, found out what she is, how lovely xxxx

Shes called a Dryad.Shes a female spirit of nature who presides over woods & trees.A dryad either lives in a tree, in which case she is called a hamadryad, or close to it. The lives of the dryads are connected with that of the trees; should the tree perish, then she dies with it.
Dryads can be found in the secluded places such as oak trees. They are very shy and non-violent so they are never more than a few feet away from their individual tree. Unless they are surprised, dryads can disappear by stepping into a tree.
They are considered to be playful and adventurous with humans. May fall in love with a human man!!

How exciting!

Here's a sight for sore eyes, a ruby cluster courtesy of Mother Nature herself.

These luscious red rubies are the seeds of the pomegranate fruit which are growing on a tree near my house.

A while ago I did a posting all about the pomegranate. Please click here to find some interesting facts.

On a Sunday you cannot beat a lovely roast dinner. This wouldn't be the same without a good old helping of Yorkshire. So here you are - sit tha sen down and enjoy!

On Thursday I showed you an image of a wood nymph that I discovered earlier this week. Just moments before discovering the wood nymph I photographed this image.

These trees form a fitting guard of honour for a wood nymph about to take her morning dip.

This is just to welcome and introduce the latest poet on BCUK. Visit Daniel Jack on his blog

That's it! I've decided ........ I'm gonna be a bear!

Yup, gonna be a bear!

Look very close at the trunk of the tree! Can you see her too?

I think she's a wood nymph.

The moment that you've all been waiting for. There were 19 very different entries. It's been a very difficult task but I'm pleased to say that the results are in!

A very big thank you to Andrea for doing the honours - please do visit Andrea's website.

"Hi Marian - Firstly thanks for asking, it was indeed a pleasure the standard was extremely high - Andrea"

First Place: sdweller

My Recurring Nightmare

Only light of eyes in the darkness,
staring me down, staring me down.
A thousand sharp-toothed creatures,
circling round, circling round.

Those inhuman beasts are coming,
I hear the sound, hear the sound.
Thought I was safe, my last mistake,
now me they've found, me they've found.

A helpless prey I'll not be
I cry aloud, I cry aloud.
"Come on you bastards - come and get me!"
waiting their sounds, waiting their sounds.

A last embrace, the kiss of death, I feel it wrap around.
I scream, I shout, I kick, I punch. And then fall to the ground.
Is this what will become of me? Blood patterns splatter round.
Limbs dismembered, the beasts howl; I scream a silent sound.

I'm screaming as bells fill my head,
ringing loud, they ring loud.
terror replaced by my morning clocks'
Alarming sounds, alarming sound.

Second Place: spiritbird

NIGHTMARE

Phone bells ring.
Message passed.
Key,Doors.
Out into the dark wet night.
Bright, flourescent coats.
Blue lights, loud horns.
Speeding, screeching, motor pulling.
Radio crackle, message passing one to another.
STOP! Incident, people hurt.
Rushing, screaming, broken, bleeding.
Calm, reassure, bandage, blanket, collect and check.
Once more blue light flashing, radio crackle, motor pulling.
Hospital, doctors, staff waiting.
Rushing finished, calm returning, back to station.
Sit, waiting, once more phone bells ringing.
The start of someone elses nightmare.

Third Place: sula36

NIGHTMARE POEM

Child, you are a nightmare
my mother used to shout
your hair looks like a haystack
your clothes are inside out,
your coat is missing buttons
and what have you on your feet?

Why can't you be like Wendy?
always so sweet and neat -
you never see her scruffy
she always is upbeat.

My mother never understood
that Wendy was a fool
she tormented me every day
as I came home from school

She and her gang of cronies
would wait beside the path
and harry me and grab my hair
as I would try to pass

They made my life a nightmare
for 6 months, maybe more,
until I pushed Wendy in the swamp
Then i never saw 'er no more

Special Mention: sweetladyjane

The Nightmare

Deep in the woods in the dark of night
Comes the nightmare,comes the fright.
Footsteps crackling through the leaves
Cries are heard on hallows eve
Running faster heart is pounding
From the woods your footsteps bounding
Closer now the footsteps come
you feel a soft touch as you run
A laugh now hails across the night
A wicked laugh but out of sight.
But then you wake safe in your bed
the nightmare gone, twas in your head.
You turn to nestle down to sleep
As laughter echoes at your feet.

Special Mention: jackfrost

NIGHTMARES

Nightmares can be funny things
They keep you up at night
And if you doze off in between
It gives you such a fright

Nightmares happen anytime
If you’re young or old
They catch you often unawares
Your body goes all cold

Nightmares come to all my kids
They cry out in the night
They then sleep sound in mummy’s bed
And Daddy’s got no rights

So when tonight you fall asleep
And monsters come to visit
There’s nothing nasty in your home
Its nightmares surely…..is..It??

CONGRATULATIONS TO ALL THE ABOVE AND A BIG THANK YOU TO EVERYONE FOR MAKING THIS AN EXCITING COMPETITION

As you may have realised I've got a new camera (my first digital) and I'm really enjoying the experience of being able to view the shots as I go along.

So it's been a sharp learning curve for me and I'm picking up hints and ideas on a daily basis. I've even put together a checklist of essential items (other than a camera - of course!)

Plastic Heron (lifesize) - to put in foreground of stream scenes.

Red cajoule - for passing walkers to wear for good effect.

Water spray gun - to mist flowers, pebbles and cobwebs.

Secateurs - to trim back rogue brambles etc.

Toy yacht (with red sail) - to put in lake scenes.

Invisible cloak - to get close to human subjects unseen.

Bag of sweets - to coax grandchildren to have just one more picture.

A birdie - to put on shoulder (preferably not a parrot!)

A tripod - so I can get into the shots as well (optional extra - not recommended!)

I have probably missed a few things off my list but I'm sure all you expert photographers will let me know what else I need.

... yes you've guessed!

Tonight I'm having Moroccan Lamb Tagine and Couscous!

........bath with a friend!

Remember this initiative anyone?

SUPPORT BLOG ACTION DAY 15th OCTOBER 2007

Every little helps!

"Recycling is the reprocessing of materials into new products. Recycling generally prevents the waste of potentially useful materials, reduces the consumption of raw materials and reduces energy usage, and hence greenhouse gas emissions. Recycling is a key concept of modern waste management."

BLOG ACTION DAY 15th OCTOBER 2007

This is a google "thought for the day" - Makes you think doesn't it?

"Have you ever been in love? Horrible isn't it? It makes you so vulnerable. It opens your chest and it opens up your heart and it means that someone can get inside you and mess you up. You build up all these defenses, you build up a whole suit of armour, so that nothing can hurt you, then one stupid person, no different from any other stupid person, wanders into your stupid life...You give them a piece of you. They didn't ask for it. They did something dumb one day, like smile at you, and then your life isn't your own anymore. Love takes hostages. It gets inside you. It eats you out and leaves you crying in the darkness, so simple a phrase like 'maybe we should be just friends' turns into a glass splinter working its way into your heart. It hurts. Not just in the imagination. Not just in the mind. It's a soul-hurt, a real gets-inside-you-and-rips-you-apart pain. I hate love". Neil Gaiman

I would be interested to hear your views on this subject.

Here's one way of doing it.........

Wear something that little bit different!

There have already been 19 entries for La_spice International Bloglit Competition. Throughout the day I have been regularly updating my previous post:

http://myplace2.blog.co.uk/2007/10/13/the_nightmare_has_begun~3127591

If you want to read any of the entries just go to the above link. Once there you can simply 'click' on the name of each entrant and you will be taken directly to their poem. If you have submitted an entry and don't see your name on the list please contact me as quickly as possible.

Tomorrow I will hand over copies of the entries to a panel of independent judges and the results will be posted as soon as possible.

Marian Barker, aka La_spice/Arnica

Saturday the 13th has arrived, the Nightmare begins!

Meanwhile elliegant who is winging her way to the states has asked me to post her entry. Here it is:

Nightmares by Ellie Gant

‘Sweet dreams, my love’ my husband said
As I snuggled down in my feather bed
And soon I drifted through a meadow of wild flowers,
stopping to rest under a rose-covered bower

I glided through a forest, along a mossy track
Until I chanced upon a black horse and clambered on her back.
We galloped across fields and meadows, soaring over stream and hedge
Until, with one wild and reckless leap, we teetered on a ledge.

A cliff so high and crumbly, the sea a mile below
We slipped and slithered, pebbles rolling, my panic began to grow.
I screamed and I shouted, my hands began to shake
I tugged the bridle, tried to turn the horse, and the reins turned into snakes.

The adders reared up and lunged to bite
And I fell backwards in my fright
Down the cliff into the kelp
Which smothered all my screams for help

I trod water then tried to swim
I faced the fact that my future looked grim;
Suddenly I was face to face with a shark
But before it could bite, I awoke in the dark.

Good luck to all contestants - get posting now!

England are playing France tomorrow - a bit of a nightmare if, like me, you're an English person living in France. My local cinema is screening the match live (free of charge!!!) but imagine watching the game surrounded by a predominantly French audience.

Here again are the rules:

La_spice Bloglit Poetry Competition

You can only submit one poem.

The poem must be your own work.

It must not have been published.

To enter you most post your poem on your own blog on Saturday 13th October. At the same time you must send me a private message to let me know that you are entering the competition this is very important as your poem could otherwise be overlooked.

The theme for the competition is NIGHTMARES

As always, judging will be done by an independent judge whose decision will be final.

Good luck everyone!

Just imagine having to take this key out with you when you pop out for a pint of milk!

Who might live in a house with a door like this?

Another "rusty" for you know who!

...... something rusty!

Here it is:

I hope you like it too!

Have you seen her?

She answers to the name of Ardea Cinerea. She's known to hang around all kinds of waters, from estuaries and marshes to lakes in city parks. She is tall with long legs and neck, and grey and white plumage, yellowish legs and bill. Oh didn’t I mention she’s a Grey Heron you usually find her here:-

Ah but not today! Shame, I’m told she would have completed this shot!

Better know as the pomegranate - this is a picture of a heavily laden tree growing just around the corner from my house. This fruit, which I remember eating with a pin when I was a child, seems to be making a come back. The seeds can be sprinkled on salads and the juice is said to be brimming with vitamins A, C, E and iron.

I found this interesting information on the BBC news website.

Pomegranates are being hailed as a super-food which can protect the heart.

Scientists in Israel have shown that drinking a daily glass of the fruit's juice can reduce the risk of cardiovascular disease. Preliminary studies suggest that pomegranate juice may contain almost three times the total antioxidant ability compared to the same quantity of green tea or red wine. "Pomegranate juice contains the highest antioxidant capacity compared to other juices, red wine and green tea," said Professor Michael Aviram, who led the team.

The pomegranate has been cultivated since pre-historic times. Thought to be native to Persia, the fruit is now grown everywhere from Spain to California. It features richly in mythology, as a symbol of birth, eternal life, and death, owing to its abundance of seeds and ability to 'bleed'.

The deep red skin of the pomegranate was thought to link it to the blood of the earth, a taboo colour. Hence the fruit's association with forbidden desire.

Iranians believe that Eve was tempted with a pomegranate in the Garden of Eden. King Cyrus, who created the Persian Empire, was reputed to have wished for a number of good generals equal to the seeds of a pomegranate.

Later again, the Prophet Mohammed is said to have urged his followers to eat the fruit in the belief that it purges the system of envy and hatred.

The ancient Egyptians were buried with pomegranates in the hope of re-birth, while in Greek
mythology, Persephone, the daughter of Demeter, the goddess of agriculture, was offered a seed of the fruit by Hades. Tempted by its jewel-like appearance, she took it, thereby condemning herself to spending a portion of every year with Hades in the underworld.

These days, Greeks traditionally break a pomegranate at weddings, as a symbol of fertility.
In China, a sugared version of the seed is eaten on the day to bless the newlyweds.

In the Middle East, Iran and India, the fruit has long been used in folk medicine. Healers have used the bark, leaves, skin and rind as well as the edible bits of the fruit to cure everything from conjunctivitis to haemorrhoids. A boiled infusion of the rinds is said to soothe a sore throat, and a paste of the leaves, massaged into the scalp, can, apparently, reverse baldness. Over there, pomegranate juice is recommended for pregnant mothers as it is rich in iron. It's also cooling and good for cleansing the system.

Not really - simply a headline to introduce the beautiful archway of my village church.

Hope you like it!

To find out more about where I live please click here and here

My village is surrounded by vineyards. Most of the grapes grown here are destined for the nearby town of Cognac to be turned into the world famous spirit of the same name. Breathtaking and intoxicating are the two words that spring to mind. The grapes are currently being harvested and the air is heavy with the delicious aroma - one could get a hangover by just breathing in! This does make gardening less of a chore just now!

I thought perhaps you'd like to read a little about the area:

The world's best-known brandy comes from the peaceful countryside surrounding the Charente River one hundred miles north of Bordeaux. This slow moving river, which King François I called the loveliest river in his kingdom, passes through a placid landscape of vineyards bathed by a clear and radiant light. A twenty-mile area called the 'golden circle" of cognac production encompasses Cognac.

Cognac, the medieval town which bears the name of the region, is attractive with its narrow medieval cobbled streets and elegant Renaissance facades. It is here that the fabled nectar has been created since the 17" century and that the very air one breathes is permeated by the heavy scent of spirits evaporating from oak casks held in storage: this aroma is referred to as the "angels's share'. World famous firms such as Camus, Hennessy, Niartell, Otard, Prince Hubert de Polignac, Rémy-Martin, Courvoisier, and Renault-Bisquit are located here; each distillery has its own secret and unique process for mixing the various blends of its eaux-de-vie. Cognac is made using the double-distilling process that goes on in copper stills before the ageing in oak barrels where the precious liquor will improve, taking on its final bouquet and famous golden glow.

Right, back out into the garden for some more of that lovely fresh air!

I found this specimen climbing up my rosemary plant and wonder if anyone has a good recipe?

I did read that “snails are not inherently poisonous, but they can become poisonous with the plants they eat” well this one has been feasting on my herbs so it should be delicious!

Off you go Rosemary (yes I’ve named her and set her free!)

..... blogland!

It's a dog eats dog world here in blogland. All the photogaphers are writing poems and so I thought I'd better try my hand at a bit of photography. So may I present my "Autumn Leaves"

Autumn Leaves