It's Thinking Day

Hostesses with the Mostess!

How wonderful it was this morning, to see Clock House Methodist Church full of children and their parents. And what a treat afterwards to be entertained by members of the Brownies, who, together with Brown Owl served tea and home made cakes to the congregation. And what yummy, delicious buns, biscuits and blooming scrumptious sponge cake there was. Every little Brownie made a special effort to make sure everyone got a cup of tea or coffee, and they certainly earned their 'Hostess' badges.

Well done girls!

Jane Sharp - Writer - Poet - Musician : For Yiorgos R.I.P.

Jane Sharp - Writer - Poet - Musician : For Yiorgos R.I.P.: Yiorgos  by Jane Sharp You were in your best light that day As you posed with the great curly horned ram Surrounded as you were by ...



What sad news today, and I have just found out that Yiorgo's mum passed away last week too. My sincere, heartfelt condolences to the family Kivernatakis.

For Yiorgos R.I.P.

Yiorgos by Jane Sharp

You were in your best light that day
As you posed with the great curly horned ram
Surrounded as you were by all that chinkling
And the silent eclipse of eagles in the eye of Uranus,
With only tall crags and the vee of the gorge
And the hush of the wind as it passed to the sea.

You were for me a valiant cavalier
With that angular stance of a proud Hussar
And I could see you in a braided jileko
With the flash of steel in your cummerbund,
No doubt your boots were handmade
In the mountains.

And later, all those qualities of chivalry blazed
When you shared souvlaki and a glass of beer
With the old priest Nicodemus at Selinary.
We cooled our hands under the fountain flow
Imprinting the ocean with our friendship

Yiorgo the Poet

Yiorgo the Shepherd

Kalo Taxidn my friend!

Move Over Margo!!!!!!

Sometimes you've just got to go for it! - sorry about the blurred photo, I think the photographer had a fit of the giggles.

What fun! From beginning to end a laugh a minute. I knew there was a ballet dancer lurking inside me. Well, we proved ourselves to be entertainers, so if you have, or know of an organisation who would benefit from an evening of poetical fun,  with the odd sketch thrown in, do get in touch with me.

Baking Biscuits

At last an afternoon to myself. David was down the church helping out with a bit of poster putting up, so it's was out with the music, on with the pinney, and into the kitchen for a spot of baking. Out of 100 perfect heart shaped biscuits I only managed to burn one batch (not bad for me). Now they are in the freezer ready to be iced on Saturday morning. Hands in the dough can be quite theraputic.

Now it's out with the nail varnish, and a spot of beautifying. Tomorrow I've a bit of poetry reading at a residential home in Beckenham, a chance to practice one or two numbers in readiness for Saturday's performance.

Sick on the Train

Coming back from Yorkshire last night we managed to navigate London after being diverted to West Hampstead, because of work being carried out around St Pancras, and arrived at Victory in time to board the 22.55 train for Shortlands. The train was packed with late night London revellers, mostly good natured, or else falling asleep. Except for one, that is. A guy who was quite worse for wear, head in his hoody, hunched over like a dormant tortoise, that is until he threw up on the carriage floor. The first I knew of it was a wash of sick that began to swill towards my feet faster than the incoming tide over Morecambe sands. Just what you want at the end of the day. Needless to say David and I legged it into the next carriage, swiftly followed by half a dozen other fleeing passengers.

Such is life! It did bring back a few memories of my younger days. But I must say, I have never been sick on a train, thank God! Sometimes I am glad my wild youth is well behind me, and I am happy to be tucked up in bed when all that throbbing night scene is taking place. I must confess, I do enjoy an afternoon pint of beer much better than an evening session.

Good luck to all you young things, whoop it up and enjoy yourselves, but do try to remember to carry a brown paper bag with you for that late train journey home.

Oh, I forgot to mention, on the train up to Yorkshire yesterday, we were sitting across from Mr Paddy Ashdown (of political fame). He looked very distinguished, lovely thick grey hair, and we exchanged pleasantries about the weather (which was ice cold) as we alighted at Sheffield.

It has been another icy cold day today, here in Beckenham, but, hey ho! it is winter.

Time for bed. Love, Jane x