Mundane

Bla, bla bla. Da da da. A lot of talk and no real analysis. Simple analysis without the verbiage or benefit of hindsight. The people who work in banks aren't corrupt. They just have access to a lot of money. And take it. I don't think it´s quite the same thing. People who live in the West earn a lot of money and we accept it. Nobody generally questions why a malodorous halfwit in Europe earns more than a scientist in Africa. People, just like banks don't question how much they are paid unless they happen to think it's too little.  Governments have a moral obligation to regulate banks and they still haven't bothered to. So, I'm sure that once the balance sheets are healthier, there'll be another crisis to send us back to the stone age. I hope Jacky knows how to grow potatoes and mend socks.

Gilty is angry about the crisis

 This is a photo of a Galician wolf. Not taken by me I hasten to add. There are lots of them round here and not all of them work in politics.

Walk on

 This summer has been very special for me. This time last year, Jacob was only 8 months old, and, although he was an angel it was a difficult period. Right now, I feel like my whole life has been worthwhile. Undeservedly so of course. He is an inexhaustible source of energy, vitality, fun, and that unfathomable intelligence that small children have which adults scorn and don’t really understand, some kind of magical intuition.

What are we eating? and very nice too!

The Shell-fish paradise of Coruña has recently been home to a tall ships race. More than 300 ships I believe. Tall.

What I found in the sails

 Above boats, below sleep.

The art of sleep, part two

 He adores music and dances with enthusiasm and style. Perhaps it’s my imagination but I think that there might be elements of kung Fu in there as well. The list of likes includes, flowers, food, animals, but especially dogs, all people whether friendly or not (by the time he’s finished saying hello they become friendly!!), reading stories (“Jackie, would you like a story?” – “Yeah” – “What about Mr Chatterbox?” – “Yeah”), blackberries, standing on manhole covers, hugs, If you’re happy and you know it clap your hands, muppets. I could go on.  Apparently, I often do. He is a gift from God, an angel. Of course, I have no experience as a father, except for the production phase. But Loreto says that he is miraculous and special. If all babies were like this, I'm sure the birth rate would soar.

My wood. Where I go to talk to the fairies

Walking by the beach with friends

The school where I work 

 This is the place where I work most. It looks like it should be in Havana but is simultaneously in the middle of Coruña and by the sea. It's subsidised by the regional government which makes it a kind of direct grant school. There's no entrance exam or anything like that though, but some nuns and children and the odd teacher. Emphasis on the "odd" naturally.

Poem of the day:


The Sunlight on the Garden

The sunlight on the garden
Hardens and grows cold,
We cannot cage the minute
Within its nets of gold,
When all is told
We cannot beg for pardon.

Our freedom as free lances
Advances towards its end;
The earth compels, upon it
Sonnets and birds descend;
And soon, my friend,
We shall have no time for dances.

The sky was good for flying
Defying the church bells
And every evil iron
Siren and what it tells:
The earth compels,
We are dying, Egypt, dying

And not expecting pardon,
Hardened in heart anew,
But glad to have sat under
Thunder and rain with you,
And grateful too
For sunlight on the garden.