I have done nothing with my blog for some time. ……in fact I’ve done nothing period…So , for no paticular reason here are some photos of my ‘garden’ and some of the birds that keep me company as I sit here staring at the walls…..

   I suppose I should get back into the habit of writing something on my blog at least once a week but to be honest I feel like a voice crying in the wilderness much of the time.

 

  Sometimes when the residents of Cambridge Court are fast asleep the fairies come and plant flowers………..

A couple of Blue Tits (is that one word or two?) have just given birth to a clutch of  Blue Tit eggs  here in Dublin and are being monitored on The Mooney Show on RTE Radio. I know nothing about such matters but it apparently will take  two to three weeks for these eggs to hatch , in the mean time the birds will eat 18,000 caterpillars each. Well , that’s what Derek Mooney said , I’ve no idea if it’s true or not. Children from all over Ireland will be tuning in to check on their progress….but personally I find it all just boring. I don’t like birds and the only thing I can call to mind on the subject is that as children we would snigger  in school as the teacher spoke the word ‘tit’.

I’ll twitter this ( get it ? ) on my Twitter – it’s the sort of aimless/pointless boring bit of non news that should make a perfect Twitter soundbite. I’m not the Birdman of Alcatraz. I’ve never even flown on a plane. I’m a man who beleives in keeping his feet firmly on the ground. “A bird in the hand…..” . Why would anyone want a bird in their hand and why would you want to watch one sitting on an egg for hours on end ? The only book I’ve read on birds was not about birds at all. Bird,s Nest Soup by Hanna Greely and the author  was just a little bit  mad herself.  Big Tits or Blue Tits who gives a flying f***k.

  UPDATE: BLUE TIT 2010 …………….update

THE GARDEN OF IZZIE KLINGELS

September 28, 2008

 

       I’ve never met Izzie Klingels but I have a great fondness for Garden. In fact if it wasn’t for dear Izzie I wouldn’t even be aware of Garden. It was she who brought me ‘into the garden’….I’m listening to Agnes Bernelle as I write this , she’s spinning around on my record deck and it seems appropriate that I should be listening to her when writing of Izzie…
      I am , I suppose , what might be best described as a sad old man with no friends….that’s not self pity just simple plain fact. I live on my own and sleep on the floor of a one room flat here in Dublin. I have better things to do with my money than buy a bed and apart from that I have not got the room for one and so I sleep on the floor…..and I sleep like an innocent……

  When I get out of bed every morning , which is to say when I get up off the floor and have my morning coffee I find that I have nothing to do so I wander out my front door and head for the record shops of Dublin.. If it wasn’t for the record shops I would go mad…. I put one foot in front of the other and eventually end up in one of the few vinyl emporiums left in this city. I’m an old time record collector….My hair is grey and as the song has it ,” I ache in the places where I used to play”. My clothes are all worn and shabby as all my spare money goes on vinyl and I am I suppose well known in these shops…..and I’m always on my own. But then again , who needs friends when you’ve got the vinyl ? But who cares about any of this…

  To get to what I wanted to tell you…There is a shop in Dublin called Road Records which specalises in independant (!!) record labels and I was in there one day about a year ago ( I’m in there every day of course ). It’s a small shop which sells a lot of unremarkable modern music. And it sells this to unremarkable people.  People who live in modern apartment blocks on the river. You know the sort I mean. No lost rebels here . No rebels without a cause or otherwise. The economy is doing well (even with the recession) and so are they….they all want to be just like daddy ( and they are , they are ).

  Well , like I say , I was in there one day looking for something special. I was leafing through the shelves of Indie (!!!!!) vinyl as I had done a thousand times when I came acrosss this 12 inch ep by someone called Garden. It was the cover that caught my attention of course. I held it in my hand. I turned it around and looked at it from different angles. I put it down and then picked it up……and then I looked at it again.

   I bought the record needless to say. Four hippy/psych type songs that might have been THE hippy anthem if the record had been made 40 years ago. It’s a gem. A classic of the first order. Four wonderfull songs with titles like , Yew Tree and Dandelions…..
       ” I am the yew tree
         I am the yew tree
         I am the yew tree
                                  yes.”
     I play it over and over. And when I’m not actually playing it I’m holding it in my hand , wondering who that girl is. She has her back to us and yet seems somehow sad…… She’s the child , the brainchild of Izzie Klingels. She came out of Izzie Klingels head. How long was she there ? And how did she get there in the first place ? When Izzie was going about her business , standing in the supermarket checkout , chatting with her facebook friends , was this little girl locked up in her head all the time. And late at night when  Izzie was asleep and all was dark and quiet was the little girl gently tapping , tapping … “Let me out , let me out “
  
  And why Izzie , why do you abandon your children in indie record shops. There is a myspace and web site but these tell us nothing. Why have you sent this sad garden child out into such a cruel cruel world ?

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