Where JJ lives
...and dreams
...and cooks
Simple mind, simple taste.
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...until death do re-unite or the Priestess return to Avalon.
You may give them your love but not your thoughts, for they have their own thoughts. You may house their bodies but not their souls, for their souls dwell in the house of tomorrow, which you cannot visit, not even in your dreams.You may strive to be like them, but seek not to make them like you. For life goes not backward nor tarries with yesterday.
The moving finger writes and, having writ, moves on. Nor all your piety nor wit shall lure it back to cancel half a line, nor all your tears wash out a word of it.
There is nothing noble in being superior to your fellow man. True nobility lies in being superior to your former self .
This character appears in one of my short stories, and also in the novel. He's sadder than he looks, poor thing.
About Me
- JJ
- Ashbourne, Derbyshire, United Kingdom
- I've never had money because I've never been driven by money. I received little formal education beyond the age of sixteen, which isn't such a bad thing since you get a different angle on life that way. Learning what you want and need to learn often reveals things that the system's road keeps hidden.
BOOKS
Anyone interested in viewing the availablity of my novel Odyssey or novella The Gift Horse can do so here.
To Be Retained...
...until death do re-unite or the Priestess return to Avalon.
Khalil Gibran on Children.
You may give them your love but not your thoughts, for they have their own thoughts. You may house their bodies but not their souls, for their souls dwell in the house of tomorrow, which you cannot visit, not even in your dreams.You may strive to be like them, but seek not to make them like you. For life goes not backward nor tarries with yesterday.
OMAR KAYYAM ON REGRET.
The moving finger writes and, having writ, moves on. Nor all your piety nor wit shall lure it back to cancel half a line, nor all your tears wash out a word of it.
Herman Hess on Nobility
There is nothing noble in being superior to your fellow man. True nobility lies in being superior to your former self .
Free Fiction
I have another blog called A Handful of Stories on which I've posted some of my short fiction. Most of it has been published by a variety of independent small press publishers, so somebody other than me must have thought it worth reading.
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- The Trial of New Things.
- Two More Notes on Ageing.
- Finding the Right Name.
- Advertising for the Connoisseur
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- Are We Not Amused?
- A Rise in Consciousness?
- The Dining Car.
- By the Pricking of My Thumbs...
- Mixed Fortunes.
- Another American Question.
- A Good Excuse.
- Questionnable Advice.
- The Matter of A While.
- Pleasing the Plants.
- Berating the Cycles.
- Putting Things Right.
- Sunny Day Fizz.
- Fizzless Bits.
- Poor Substitute.
- Seeing Ourselves.
- Taking the Lesson.
- In the Loop.
- Daft Headlines.
- Picture Post 10 - Final Oddments.
- Errant Heifers and Being Philosophical.
- Too Busy.
- Picture Post 9 - More Oddments.
- Something Missing Concluded.
- Something Missing.
- 'Please Check You Have All Your Belongings.'
- The Problem with Hot Weather.
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- Poor Us.
- Picture Post 8 - Two Views Across the Valley.
- Moving Through the Fair.
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- Village Oddments.
- Ashbourne Today.
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- Avian Close Encounters.
- Recognising Instinct.
- A Sad Sight.
- Whistling Down the Wind.
- Marking the Seasons.
- Oh, to be in England...
- Being Undecided.
- Royalty as Religion.
- Considering Pleasure.
- Attracting the Big Black Birds.
- The Trouble with Blogging.
- A JJ Definition.
- Walking Through the Twilight.
- Glancing Over My Shoulder...
- Late Late Spring.
- Believing the Sporting Illusion.
- Letting it Stand.
- Now. 02.33.
- A Kind of Failure.
- Night Sights.
- Watching Paint Dry.
- Spending a Life.
- A Few Morning Notes.
- Taking it Too Seriously.
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- Not the Holiday Type.
- Under the Hedge.
- Questioning the Priority.
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- Picture Post 5 - History.
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- Picture Post 4 - Sheep.
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- Today's Ashbourne Notes.
- More Signs?
- How Now, Mr Raven?
- A Rare Self-Plug.
- On Raven Hair and Being a 305.
- Morning Note.
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- Revealed by the Digits.
- A Minor Plague of Voices.
- Not Worth Avoiding.
- No-Say Day.
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- When Sunbeams Tell the Season.
- Numbers.
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Pictures.
All the permanent pictures and some of the posted ones on this blog are my copyright. Most of them, however, are placed with a picture library which holds the licensing rights. I don't, therefore, have the legal right to grant permission to use them.
An Inhabitant of the Hungry Ghost Realm
This character appears in one of my short stories, and also in the novel. He's sadder than he looks, poor thing.
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When everything that is illusion is removed, all that remains is consciousness.
9 comments:
I like that you have a photo of yourself by the bed. ;)
Nice kitchen. Is that a skylight?
Back in the winter when you would mention being cold in your office and your wood stove it almost sounded like you lived in some type of Bob Cratchet type of little hovel.
I really mean when I say it is such a lovely place. ^_^
It isn't just a photo of ME, Andrea, it's a photo of PENNY and me. Besides, who else would I have a photo of by my bed? Nobody likes me enough to warrant it! Yes, it's a skylight, and Bob Cratchit would have had difficulty living here, given the state of it when I first moved in.
Thank you, Nutjrin. I did a lot of work to bring it up to scratch over the first couple of years I lived here. It was worth it because it's such a beautiful locality.
I love the three pointy roofs! You really do have a lovely home Jeff.
Thank you, Countess. The only problem with the plethora of pointy roofs is that they produce sloping ceilings in both bedrooms, so it's really difficult to fit a normal range of bedroom furniture in 'cos there's so few places to put a wardrobe.
Yes, i also noticed the dog. If i didn't recognize it from your profile pic i wouldn't have been able to make it out. Just picking on you. To answer your question, you could have a pic of your mother or something, haha! That would be weird though. Who'd want their mother staring at them all night? Norman Bates, maybe.
Andrea, you're strange! Good job I like strange.
I'm hyper aware of that fact at this point having had it unnecessarily pointed out to me a zillion times since i was about six years old when i started kindergarten. :) At least i'm aware of it myself, though. If i weren't then there'd be a problem.
Are you yelling at me again?
'Andrea, you're strange' is a compliment. Strange people I get on with, it's the normal ones that give me trouble.
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