Ed Balls Day (2011)

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Ed Balls Day is a bit of fun, the stuff of nonsense, and this year (2021) is the 10th anniversary celebration. Basically, on 28 April 2011, Ed Balls (then a British politician) tweeted his name thinking he was entering it into a search box.

Since then […] every year Twitter rejoices in the madness of the internet gaffe and marks Ed Balls Day. Source

A simple mistake has made him the Patron Saint of Simple Mistakes. To his credit, he hasn’t deleted the tweet, it remains on Twitter in all its pomp and glory, although at the time he didn’t know it was possible to delete them.

It’s a day to look forward to, it’s a day to enjoy with family and friends, it’s a day to share with others. It’s a day that unites everyone. Whatever your race, colour, or creed, everyone can enjoy Ed Balls Day.

Some bemoan the fact that’s it’s become too commercialised these days, having lost its true meaning. So, however you celebrate, make sure it’s significant.

Yes, it’s a bit of fun, but at its heart is the positive affirmation of simple mistakes and a willingness to own them.

Peace (Henry Vaughan)

My Soul, there is a country
Afar beyond the stars,
Where stands a winged sentry
All skillful in the wars;
There, above noise and danger
Sweet Peace sits, crown’d with smiles,
And One born in a manger
Commands the beauteous files.
He is thy gracious friend
And (O my Soul awake!)
Did in pure love descend,
To die here for thy sake.
If thou canst get but thither,
There grows the flow’r of peace,
The rose that cannot wither,
Thy fortress, and thy ease.
Leave then thy foolish ranges,
For none can thee secure,
But One, who never changes,
Thy God, thy life, thy cure.

Henry Vaughan (1621-1695)

The Joy of Spring

We’ve had a good week. The weather’s been good, we’ve got lots of jobs done, and I’ve given our grass the first cut of the season.

Today, we had the chance to meet friends at Stewart Park in Middlesbrough. It was great to get out in the fresh air and enjoy life’s simple pleasures, things we’re all learning to appreciate more since the start of the coronavirus lockdown.

You can see all the photos I took by clicking here.

250 Days of Retirement

Today (Sunday 7 March 2021) marks 250 days since my retirement, another appropriate moment to take stock and reflect, as I wrote a similar post after 100 days. In many ways not much has changed because of the coronavirus restrictions, which have thrown so many people’s plans into disarray for a year now.

We’re now very well settled in our new house and life, but still have jobs to finalise and boxes in the loft to sort out – as we did after 100 days! We were hoping for time in January and February 2021 to get many of these jobs done, but we’ve been home schooling Freddy and Matilda because of coronavirus lockdown. This has been very draining for all of us. They restart school tomorrow (Monday 8 March).

Pollyanna continues to lose opportunities to make new friends and meet old friends, but we’re pleased she has a confirmed nursery place (at the same school Freddy and Matilda attend) in September 2021.

I’m continuing to look after my health, and have had the first dose of the coronavirus vaccine. I’ve taken up running again, but this isn’t easy at my age (67 in a few months) and after a three year break, although I’m already starting to reap the benefits and I’m determined to run regularly again.

Overall, we’re continuing to move on, settling into our new routines, and actively building our new life together as a family. It’s just taking much longer than we expected or intended.

Caring (F. R. Scott)

Caring is loving, motionless,
An interval of more or less
Between the stress and the distress.

After the present falls the past,
After the festival, the fast.
Always the deepest is the last.

This is the circle we must trace,
Not spiralled outward, but a space
Returning to its starting place.

Centre of all we mourn and bless,
Centre of calm, beyond excess,
Who cares for caring, has caress.

F. R. Scott (1899-1985)

Not Love Perhaps

three men sitting on veranda
Photo by Toa Heftiba u015einca on Pexels.com

Here’s poem I discovered recently, one that’s already a favourite.

This is not Love, perhaps,
Love that lays down its life,
that many waters cannot quench,
nor the floods drown,
But something written in lighter ink,
said in a lower tone, something, perhaps, especially our own.

A need, at times, to be together and talk,
And then the finding we can walk
More firmly through dark narrow places,
And meet more easily nightmare faces;
A need to reach out, sometimes, hand to hand,
And then find Earth less like an alien land;
A need for alliance to defeat
The whisperers at the corner of the street.

A need for inns on roads, islands in seas,
Halts for discoveries to be shared,
Maps checked, notes compared;
A need, at times, of each for each,
Direct as the need of throat and tongue for speech.

Arthur Seymour John Tessimond (1902-1962)