WHO IS THIS GUY CALLED ARIEL?

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Thursday, August 18, 2005

ARIEL'S NO-BUDGET COOK BOOK #2

The worst culinary crime that you can commit is to throw away perfectly edible food scraps, simply because you can’t think what to do with them. It’s not only wasteful but, with so many people in the world starving, it’s immoral. So, what I’m going to do later on is show you how you can make an easy-to-do, and nutritious meal from various scraps of meat etc. If it’s at all possible, stop buying that aerated, nil-nutrition supermarket bread, and make your own: which is simple and easy to do,... Sign in to see full entry.

ARIEL'S NO-BUGET COOKBOOK#1

No, I don’t intend to start a cooking blog, far less one of the haute cuisine variety, for all my recipes are for dishes that are cheap, quick and easy to cook. They all use easily available and cheap ingredients, and are far more nutritious than junk food; but some of them are not for vegetarians! Okay, let’s start with a few ingredients that you’ll need to have on hand. Pulses ( beans of various kinds, and chickpeas ) lentils and rice which are good for thickening, and of course, they are... Sign in to see full entry.

Wednesday, August 17, 2005

ARIEL BUYS A HOUSE. WELL, ALMOST!

In my last post on this subject ( “ Castles in Spain” ) I told you about the bizarre way that houses are bought and sold here in Spain. Okay, we think we’ve bought our house, and … Anyone who had been educated by nuns in the 1930s and 40s would have recognised the expression on Lady Ariela’s face: that “ What-kinda-stone-you-fancy-being-turned-to?” stare of the Gorgon – or was it the Medusa? That look that stoats use to hypnotise rabbits into becoming lunch; an expression that bodes heavy-duty... Sign in to see full entry.

WHY I DON'T USE HEADLINES/FOES

Several people have asked me why I don’t use headlines in my blog, and the answer to this is simple. While I’m pleased that my popularity rating has gone up as much as it has in the seven weeks that I’ve been in Blogit, I don’t see blogging as being some sort of speed writing contest; nor a contest to see who can post the most, and the most controversial, pieces. One see enough of misleadingly graphic headlines in the tabloid press, without importing this into Blogit, and some of the posts that... Sign in to see full entry.

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FOES

Oh, if only this were so on a massive scale! I turned: and there he stood, the boy they’d made my foe. How young the face: how fresh, how wide the eyes: how blue, of the boy they’d made my foe. Mirrored in my foe’s blue eyes were all my hopes and fears: on his young lips tremulous lay the horror of every war: in the boys that they make foes. My fate in his hands that day; his untimely death in mine: as we gazed upon each other, in the mad clamour of battle: boys who’d been made foes. I could not... Sign in to see full entry.

Tuesday, August 16, 2005

THEY KEEP TELLING ME " I WISH I HAD MORE MONEY!"/OLD MEN WEEP

Reading other people’s blogs and comments, I am constantly struck by the refrains “ I want to make some money from my writing” or simply “ I wish I had more money! ”, so I thought it might be helpful if I offered a few tips. Firstly, it’s of little use for an amateur writer to submit material to any of the big international magazines, such as Vogue etc: all one will do is become discouraged by constant rejection. It’s much better to start small. In most countries there are local, free magazines,... Sign in to see full entry.

OLD MEN WEEP

Old men weep, in the silence and the darkness of the night: deep inside, where no-one sees. They do not weep for what is to come: for what can come, that has not been, in a long, eventful life? Old men weep for the wet sponge of Age, which wiping clean the slate of Memory, makes wraiths of old friends; old loves; old comrades long since gone to Death’s dark night. They mourn for harsh words spoken, which may never be unsaid; for love withheld and affection spurned; for slights given and hurts... Sign in to see full entry.

Monday, August 15, 2005

ST CUTHBERT'S CHURCH/MR BEN PART 6

A Sequel to Night In The City. ( Posted in July ) Sleepless, I sit in my window in the city's hushed night; this night winding down to another bustling day. I don’t know what it is about this apartment … is it something about this apartment? I don’t know – all I know is that I used to sleep like a dead man in my last place, but since moving in here I just don’t seem to sleep a lot. Don’t seem to need a hell of a lot of sleep, like I used to. They reckon the guy who had this apartment last was... Sign in to see full entry.

MR BEN PART 6

In part 5 of Mr Ben, Emily, the aunt of the two London urchins that he has befriended, visited him at his cottage, and they are getting to know each other. Ben suggestion that Emily might do some field-work to supplement her income seems to her to be a good idea. Emily laughed and said “ I shall rain apples down upon the heads of the gawpers, who dare to stare at my ankles! There, that is the kind of lady that I am!” Ben said “ If you found the work too hard, you could always go up to the Hall... Sign in to see full entry.

Sunday, August 14, 2005

DOWN THERE ON THE COSTAS/NIGHT IN ANDALUCIA

Not for me the costas; those ghastly concrete labyrinths; those Babels of foreign tongues, where the briny sea air is ubiquitously redolent of frying fish and chips, and loud with children’s shrieks. Not for me those lands of black socks with sandals; of hideous, obscene tee shirts and lurid shorts above nasty little pink legs. Give me the clean and lonely, wild and lovely sierras, where is heard, in the stillness of moon-bathed night, the muted lullaby of goat bells; and the feet of ghostly... Sign in to see full entry.

NIGHT IN ANDALUCIA

Sitting in the moonlight, on my terrace at the front of our house on this balmy Andalucian night ( it’s a half moon tonight ). I’m looking down the long valley towards Velez Malaga, a seaside town down there on the costa. As always in Spain, there’s a fiesta going on. It sounds as if there’s a battle going on down there, the air filled with loud dull booms; or as it might be some fleet having gunnery practice. The Spanish are very much into fuegos artificiales; that’s fireworks to you and me,... Sign in to see full entry.

Saturday, August 13, 2005

AN UNFORTUNATE AFFAIR AT MON BLOGUE/A NEW DAY IN ANDALUCIA

While proceeding to my estate from my London house, at the end of the season, I noted a sign on a garage forecourt that offered six free tumblers with each five gallons of petrol. ( Naturally, as a true-blooded Englishman, I still think in terms of proper, imperial liquid measurements; not these incomprehensible European litre things.) “ Aha!” I thought, “ A highly fortuitous offer, Ariel, old chap!”, and a rapid calculation established that the capacious petrol tank of one’s Rolls Royce Silver... Sign in to see full entry.

A NEW DAY IN ANDALUCIA

Looking down the long valley before our house, it, and the other valley are filled with a fine mist, so that the sierras seem to be floating, as one sees in those Japanese prints. But the sun’s coming up now, and the mist will soon burn off, and it will be another hot day ( it’s 25 in the shade right now. ) On some days, in the autumn, winter and early spring, before the air gets hazy, looking down that same valley, one can see a wide swathe of the Mediterranean, and the Riff Mountains in... Sign in to see full entry.

Friday, August 12, 2005

THE DRESS/CASTLES IN SPAIN

The attic of the manor house was a vast, the shadows lying deep among the rafters and the huge oak hammer beams, which supported the roof. The only light came from a pair of round windows in end wall, and three dim bulbs. What could be seen of the floor between the heaps of materials, and trunks and boxes, consisted of wide oak planks, their surfaces pitted and scored, and warped and buckled with age. Julia stood at the head of the attic stairs, her face pale, and her breathing rapid and... Sign in to see full entry.

CASTLES IN SPAIN

Following on from yesterday’s post about the procedure for property transfer in Spain: and the goings on at the office of the notario, this post is about some of the numerous pitfalls into which the innocent abroad; the extranjero, can fall. Some of them are hilariously bizarre; but others are tragic, as you will see. Rumour has that on a local urbanisación, – housing estate – 12 of the 36 houses were built illegally ( like probably a good 50% of Spanish houses ) and, as part of the Junta de... Sign in to see full entry.

Thursday, August 11, 2005

A DAY IN THE LIFE OF ARIEL#1 AND REGRET

Today? Well, about a typical day, I suppose. My wife, Diana, is in England at the moment, visiting family and friends: a proper Cook’s tour, taking in Wales, Devon, Hereford, Surrey, and Thetford ( Norfolk ), where our middle son has a huge, posh gymnasium. Not that one would dare refer to it as a mere gym; no, hecalls it a … damn, I can even remember what it’s called, but something reallyupmarket. Got to project a good image, see? Diana’s been away for two weeksnow, and is due back on Sunday.... Sign in to see full entry.

REGRET

He always kissed his wife goodbye, as they went their separate ways to their work, and sometimes he held her hand on parting; reluctant to let it go, for her hand in his was like a small warm animal, safe and secure in its burrow. That parting kiss, and He always kissed his wife goodbye, as they went their separate ways to their work, and sometimes he held her hand on parting; reluctant to let it go, for her hand in his was like a small warm animal, safe and secure in its burrow. That parting... Sign in to see full entry.

Wednesday, August 10, 2005

MUSLIM CHILDREN/BOMBERS/THOSE WHO GO, THOSE WHO WAIT

I am posting this piece for the second time, because it seems to fit so aptly with my new poem “ Bombers ” below. It was written as a follow-up piece to two article that I had written on Muslim terrorism; but unfortunately it was never published owing to lack of space. ( The articles referred to are “ The Muslim Myth ” and “ A Turbulent Relationship ” both of which were posted on my blog in July this year. ) I wrote “ Look at the eager, trusting faces of those beautiful, innocent Muslim children... Sign in to see full entry.

THOSE WHO GO, AND THOSE WHO WAIT

This poem is dedicated to Military Wife, and all those others with loved one’s serving abroad; whose emotions can beonly too well imagined. Those who will go to war, will do their deeds in the service of Mars; buoyed by the love of the comrade that only the warrior knows. Those who stay behind, will wait; there in their fragile bubble of hope; that might at a breath be sundered; but what is to do but hope? That merry laugh, heard just now, from the man in the check-out line; wounds the souls of... Sign in to see full entry.

About this Blog

Fiction, poetry, articles and a whole lot of other Ariel's stuff ; musings and ponderings ; they're all here, and i hope you'll find something here that you like. But I have a deeper purpose in mind. See, reading the papers and watching TV, it's so easy to think that the whole world's motivated by racial and religious hatreds of various kinds. Well most of us aren't, are we? We ordinary people are moved by love and compassion for our fellow humans ; and respect and tolerance for their differences. It's true that all that it takes for evil to flourish is for good men to do nothing, so we who are motivated by love have a duty speak out against the evils of the world ; not to be ashamed of our histories, nor embarrassed about being and saying clearly what we are and what we believe. If we don't learn to love each other, we'll perish. Although I am an atheist, my guiding principle is, and always has been, Christ's adjuration to " Love thy neighbour as thyself"

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