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Lawn Mowing Time...

I love this and want it so much it hurts. I want the leaf-blower option too, and a snowplough blade and the helicopter blades and and and...


It occurs to me that it might not need so much cooling if you just threw away the bubble canopy. But, of course, if you did, it would no longer be the mega-coolest mower on the third planet.

Padstow May Song

'Tis May day, and all around Britain folk were a-dancing around the maypole or otherwise doing strange pagan things to greet the sun, to greet the summer, to greet the growing season, rebirth...

In my childhood, my family used to take holidays at Padstow, in Cornwall. This is the may song from that town, (one of many versions).. where today the streets will be thronged, with local folk and visitors.

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Everybody needs a bosom for a pillow, everybody needs a bosom....

I could post the lyrics, but hey, why make it too easy for you.
The record: Brimful of Asha, by Cornershop, 1997.


Oh. Alright then.

There's dancing
Behind movie scenes
Behind the movie scenes
Sadi Rani
She's the one that keeps the dream alive
from the morning
past the evening
to the end of the light
Brimful of Asha on the 45
Well it's a brimful of Asha on the 45
Brimful of Asha on the 45
Well it's a brimful of Asha on the 45

And dancing
Behind movie scenes
Behind those movie screens
Asha Bhosle
She's the one that keeps the dream alive
from the morning
past the evening
to the end of the light
Brimful of Asha on the 45
Well it's a brimful of Asha on the 45
Brimful of Asha on the 45
Well it's a brimful of Asha on the 45

And singing
illuminate the main streets
And the cinema aisles
We don't care bout no
Government warnings,
'bout their promotion of the simple life
And the dams they're building
Brimful of Asha on the 45
Well it's a brimful of Asha on the 45
Brimful of Asha on the 45
Well it's a brimful of Asha on the 45

Everybody needs a bosom for a pillow
Everybody needs a bosom
Everybody needs a bosom for a pillow
Everybody needs a bosom
Everybody needs a bosom for a pillow
Everybody needs a bosom
Mine's on the 45

Mohamed Rafi -45
Lata Mangeshkar -45
Solid state radio -45
Fer-guh-son mono -45
Bancs publics -45
Jacques Dutronc and the Bolan Boogie, the Heavy
Hitters and the Chichi music
All India Radio-45
Two in ones -45
Argo Records -45
Trojan Records -45

Brimful of Asha on the 45
Well it's a brimful of asha on the 45
Brimful of Asha on the 45
Well it's a brimful of asha on the 45

Everybody needs a bosom for a pillow
Everybody needs a bosom
Everybody needs a bosom for a pillow
Everybody needs a bosom
Everybody needs a bosom for a pillow
Everybody needs a bosom
Mine's on the 45

seven seven thousand piece
Orchestra set
Everybody needs a bosom for a pillow
Mine's on the RPM!!

Brimful of Asha on the 45
Well it's a brimful of asha on the 45
Brimful of Asha on the 45
Well it's a brimful of asha on the 45

Everybody needs a bosom for a pillow
Everybody needs a bosom
Everybody needs a bosom for a pillow
Everybody needs a bosom
Everybody needs a bosom for a pillow
Everybody needs a bosom
Mine's on the 45

Pocahontas

I recall the story of Pocahontas, from when I was a child, how she saved the englishman, Captain John Smith from having his brains bashed out with a big rock, by putting her head over his, and defying her father, her chief, her people, to save him.
This story, of course, like so many I read then, was almost totally mythical.
If you really want to know more, I can tell you she died of smallpox, at Gravesend, in Kent, on the south coast of England.
Or you can read what Powhatan Museum has to say about her.
Here, however, we're just listening to music, Neil Young.
I like content in songs, I like there to be a story in the lyrics, or beautiful images. This song, (like so many of Neil Young's), has both.

Aurora borealis
The icy sky at night
Paddles cut the water
In a long and hurried flight
From the white man
To the fields of green
And the homeland
We've never seen.

They killed us in our tepee
And they cut our women down
They might have left some babies
Cryin' on the ground
But the firesticks
And the wagons come
And the night falls
On the setting sun.

They massacred the buffalo
Kitty corner from the bank
The taxis run across my feet
And my eyes have turned to blanks
In my little box
At the top of the stairs
With my Indian rug
And a pipe to share.

I wish a was a trapper
I would give thousand pelts
To sleep with Pocahontas
And find out how she felt
In the mornin'
On the fields of green
In the homeland
We've never seen.

And maybe Marlon Brando
Will be there by the fire
We'll sit and talk of Hollywood
And the good things there for hire
And the Astrodome
And the first tepee
Marlon Brando, Pocahontas and me
Marlon Brando, Pocahontas and me
Pocahontas.

Unknown Legend...

A Poem

Jump Cabling

When our cars touched
When you lifted the hood of mine
To see the intimate workings underneath,
When we were bound together
By a pulse of pure energy,
When my car like the princess
In the tale woke with a start,
I thought why not ride the rest of the way together.

Linda Pastan

More on Volcanic Ash, From the Experts...

Go HERE for pdf pamphlets.
Damn! I can't get this to format... So it goes in as it is.