If you saw my post at the weekend, you’ll know my head and my heart are just in one place: thinking of little Zoë, one week old today and doing well: her mum has been allowed home, so that’s one milestone. Luckily the hospital is a walkable distance from the family home, so that’s all good.
The Ragtag Challenge word today is ‘blue’. So this gives me a chance to show you William visiting his new little sister as she experiences life under an UV lamp: all good for clearing up the jaundice that many little babies seem to experience shortly after birth.
William watches Zoë.
And here’s the blue knitted octopus that the nurses gave her to clutch at, as she waves those little arms about.
She’s doing well, so far. 29 weeks in the making, and she even has some hair.
Best not go and see the Handlebards. Not if you’re hungry, anyway. Here is a theatre troupe who will drink your beer and steal your strawberries all in the name of art.
But our date with the Handlebards has been in the diary since February. Ever since I saw this witty and inventive lot at Bolton Castle last year I’ve been on their mailing list. Last year I saw the female troupe. This year we went to see the men at work. William Shakespeare’s Twelfth Night. Sixteen characters. Four actors. No problem. Men can multi-task too.
The four Handlebards just before it all began.
And multi-task they did. The Queen’s English, broad Scots, Northern accents all had their places. Hats, jackets and gilets all stood in for the characters who wore them, but who were temporarily detained in another role. Balloons barely concealed behind an voluminous white pinny lent girth and a (sort of) female form to Maria, while sporting a little number in prettily sprigged voile enabled us to understand that the (bearded) Olivia was now on stage.
Olivia.
Maria.
Occasionally audience members were pressed into service. The cast took any opportunity to help themselves to crisps, wine and cake, legitimising the thefts by working them into the action on stage. Nobody thus deprived of their picnic minded at all. Picnic? Yes, it was a lovely summer’s evening. We’d all spread ourselves over the lawn of the Ripon Workhouse Museum, armed with blankets, garden chairs and baskets of treats. Gruel was not on the menu.
See what I mean? Who stole the crisps?
It was all a bit exhausting, even for the delighted audience. How the troupe summon up the energy to cycle off to a new venue day after day is beyond me. But that’s what they do, up and down the length of the kingdom throughout the summer season. ‘Have bike, will perform’ must be their motto. Here’s what they say:
Since 2013, the HandleBards have clocked-up over 7000 miles by cycling around the world to perform Shakespeare. Described by none other than Sir Ian McKellen as ‘uproariously funny’, we set the world on wheels with our unique brand of extremely energetic, charmingly chaotic, environmentally friendly cycle-powered theatre.
We love an adventure.
You really should go and see them after all. And take a picnic. A picnic big enough to share.
Diaphanous sugar-pink wraiths trailing long floating tendrils pulsated gently round their royal blue tank: hypnotic: mesmerising. They neither paused nor hurried. They simply oscillated, surged, ebbed, flowed. These ethereal creatures didn’t merit their prosaic name of Black Star Northern Sea Nettle. Who dreamed that one up?
When we finally left them to it, we discovered we hadn’t finished with pulsing creatures. Here was a Blue Spotted Ribbon-Tail Ray. He gently wove round the tank, his flat body slowly rippling to the rhythm of his inner pulse.
William helpfully points out the Blue-spotted Ribbon Tail Ray.
Then there were the frogs. Look at these two Amazon Milk Frogs. They had nothing to do but regard us without interest, as their chests swelled and deflated – pulse, pulse.
Two Amazon Milk Frogs, so called from the sticky white substance they secrete through their skin when threatened.
One of the minor pleasures of being in London is seeing its architecture and street life reflected in its many and varied plate glass windows.
The journey from Kings Cross to William-and-parents’-house starts as I take the Docklands Light Railway from Bank to Lewisham. I pass the busy financial area of Canary Wharf with its skyscrapers and waterside plazas and docklands. Here are reflections a-plenty: even, as we travel through a tunnel, the passengers in our own carriage reflected in the window of the next.
Travelling on the Docklands Light Railway.
The skyscrapers of Canary Wharf as spotted from the station.
Office buildings along the DLR route.
On my way home, I might pass through the City of London, as I did the other day when visiting the Mithraeum. I didn’t call into St. Stephen Walbrook this time. I confined myself to admiring its exterior as reflected in the new office buildings which surround it.
An office building and St. Stephen Walbrook.
A skyscape wth reflections.
Another view of St. Stephen Walbrook’s spire.
And city life continues at ground level too.
This week’s Tuesday Ragtag Challenge is Reflection.
‘Dappled’ is such a summery word. It speaks of strolling through woodland on a sunny day, as the sunlight dances through the tree canopy to brindle the path below. It defines the russet spots that stipple the silvery trout weaving around in a clear and still-flowing stream. It describes a piebald foal frisking in a field alongside its mother. And it’s sunlight streaming through the stained glass windows of a parish church, painting the cold stone floor with warmth.
Woodland near the Strid, Wharfedale.
I couldn’t manage a trout or a horse. My daughter’s dog Brian can stand in for both.
Ripley Parish Church.
That’s why I chose ‘Dappled’ as my Ragtag word prompt on this July day.
When the WordPress Daily Prompts and Photo Challenges unexpectedly and abruptly stopped, many bloggers felt deprived. Some already had prompting challenges of their own: but a group of disheartened bloggers somehow connected together and set about replicating the WordPress prompts under the banner Ragtag Daily Prompt. They began on 1st June.
However, they had a couple of vacancies. They advertised. I applied. They offered me the Tuesday spot. You can find my first post here today.
Here’s the story of how bloggers from four continents formed a community which writers, photographers, poets are joining by contributing their work. Daily blogging ain’t for me. But I do love a weekly prompt, and connecting with others from all points of the compass. Thanks to all you fellow-bloggers whom I’ve come to know in the last few years: it’s been enriching.
Today, I’m not offering much. I’m simply showing you three photos, all illustrating the first word I’ve chosen: ‘serried‘.
In the garden is a pond. And in the pond there are some fish. We live near the River Ure. So near our home, some hungry herons live….
Back at Christmas time, William and family gave us a trail camera, wildlife-filming-for-the-use-of, mainly at night. This week, we decided to site it near the pond, to see if a Hungry Heron would visit. One did …..
The camera is still set to GMT. He really visited at 03.57.
This post is in response to the Ragtag Daily Prompt. Let’s let them introduce themselves: ‘RDP was started by a ragtag collection of bloggers who weren’t ready to give up on the Daily Prompt when Word Press was. So, seven of us agreed to provide a prompt once a week, and we began on June 1, 2018.’ Good luck, Ragtag! This is the kind of party I’d like to join.
From Pyrenees to Pennines 
You must be logged in to post a comment.