Whole trees in motion

For the past three or four days they've been at it again. Barely had one little storm faded away than they issue warning of impending doom with another approaching Atlantic depression. They've called this one Dennis and it promises the usual big blow and a whole ocean of wet stuff. Maybe a month's worth of rain in a day, there'll be flooding, there will be recriminations ... But as of now it's just a fresh breeze stirring up my neighbour's birch trees and a little drizzle, time to walk the dogs and get the shopping done or just put your feet up and forget about it.

The weekend in black and white is here.

Gilles de Rais was Innocent, OK!

So not last Sunday but the one before that Ed (with the cap) and Dmitry visited to take even more footage of Margot for a short documentary. They chose to use the paddocks off Snuff Mill Lane which on a Sunday afternoon is dog walkers' rush hour. Film making may sound interesting but unless you're stuck behind the camera or making the decisions it's a just big drag so I walked off and left them to it. Which is a shame because on their way back they encountered some native youffs who entertained by "mooning" them so I'm told.

The reason for this tomfoolery is that Margot has written a book, The Martyrdom of Gilles de Rais, about how he was not the devil worshipping, child abusing, mass murderer of French history but rather a bit of a saintly patsy set up and used by the power players in 15th century Brittany. By going over the trial records in detail and asking simple questions (How can Gilles be in two places at once? and how did no-one notice a pile of bones/rotting cadavers lying around in a busy castle?) it is a brilliant and at many times humorous demolition job, nay polemic, on the long accepted 'historical' narrative, concocted mainly by a lazy French cleric and others who really ought to have known better, that bears scant or no relation to the records or indeed common sense ... I may be a bit biased but never forget: ... Gilles de Rais was Innocent, Ok!

And neither was he the inspiration for Bluebeard of folk and fairy tales as so many think. 

You can find out more about (and maybe buy) this book here. 

A touch of camera envy ...

They're smiling 'cos they're going home in one piece ...

4 Octavia X

Now I maintain this is meant to be a dog but Margot insists it's feline and looks a lot like our dear departed old cat Lulu (a ginger tom and a lot better looking than this old brute). Whatever it is it's on a wall on Beverley Road near Kingston Youth Centre. I hope Octavia was impressed.

Mad Dogs and Englishmen

...In Rangoon the heat of noon
Is just what the natives shun ...

I write this as snow and hail are gently falling like a flensing knife on bare flesh to the merry accompaniment of thunder and lightning. It must therefore be April and springtime.

This crazy muttkin took a fancy to me and jumped in my bag some time so long ago in the warm hazy days of winter.

Eyes like saucers

I could do with a little tinder-box and few wishes being fulfilled at the moment but I don't suppose one is coming my way any time soon.

This hound was in a shop window in Bridlington oh so many months ago and has hopefully found a forever home by now. I believe his eyes light up and maybe he performs other tricks who knows? He looks harmless though.

Rescue of a daft dog

So I'm taking a stroll by Victoria Pier when I notice the Humber Rescue guys climbing up the stairs at the end of the pier and with them a dog. Strange, I thought, what were they doing with a dog. I paid it no more mind until I got home and found the drama behind it all. Some dogs are just plain daft I suppose.

Day of the Dog

Seems I missed Dog Day last Wednesday so here's a likely mutt that thought I was its owner and ran the whole length of Snuff Mill Lane to meet and greet only to be very disappointed. 

Dog's Head

The faithful dog - why should I strive 

To speak his merits, while they live 

In every breast, and man's best friend 

Does often at his heels attend.

The New-York Literary Journal, Volume 4, 1821

This piece of doggerel (well pardon me) is, as far as I can find, the first reference to "man's best friend" in print. The local rag has it that the East Riding, and Hull in particular, has one of the highest rates of animal cruelty in the country, but then it was quoting the RSPCA, an organisation that is, perhaps, more of a money raising engine than an animal welfare organisation. This old hound was left to wait its master return from the supermarket and, if you'll allow a little anthropomorphic fancy on this Saturday morning, appears to be regretting its choice of 'friend'.

There will, I suppose, never be a better opportunity  to post this little song by Alex Glasgow.

The weekend in black and white is waiting here.

Hull Fair and all the fun thereof

Round and round it comes again the Autumnal forced fun fest. Hull Fair, centuries old, seemingly never changing and just as noisy, smelly and tedious as ever.

At least old Balou was still there and not remotely impressed by all the goings on.

All pictures by Margot K Juby 'cos I had a bad foot and was in no mood to take pictures of this stupid thing, I just tweaked them a tad.