Getting better and a bit of Spock

Is it really that long since I last blogged? My excuse is that I had flu, only mildly, as I was vaccinated in November. I think that my sinuses are troubling me now, but it seems to be getting better every day.

Rob and I were saddened by the news if Leonard Nimoy’s death. We all loved Spock, but did you know he could have chosen a role in Peyton Place instead? How the attitude towards Vulcans would have been different if that had been the case!

My cousin Paul wrote on Facebook that he burst into the Star Trek theme midway through his saw solo (yes he plays the saw too).  What a great tribute!  In 1975 I bought a copy of Leonard Nimoy's “Will I think of You?” a lovely book of photographs and a poem dedicated to his first wife. Here is a short extract as my tribute:

“…Only
When I die

And realize
That I am born again

For dying is

A beginning

And I
have died
thousands of times…”

Copyright © 1974 by Celestial Arts

Dance of the young lovers

I had my first Christmas card this morning from my aunt. She included a newspaper cutting about my cousin Paul who is going to have his beard and hair cut off for charity in the new year. Here’s the story and a podcast.

This is one of the songs from his Blood, Fish and Bone album, Dance of the young lovers. His blog is here

For Nancyrowina and Tennyson’s bicentenary

This is a little thank you for Nancyrowina who lives on the Isle of Wight and, if I remember rightly, has a video of my cousin playing the saw. Nancy has been helping approving blogs on BlogExplosion and is really involved. If you’re reading this because of BlogExplosion, Nancy is one of the reasons why.

Paul Armfield is my Cousin; I last saw him when he was about 14 and a punk. It was a long time ago, but we keep in touch. He’s set the poem “Sweet and Low” to music, it’s lovely.
Jo! I’ve written to him this evening asking if he knows your cousin Emily (who also sings). If he does it means that we’re sort of related!



SWEET and low, sweet and low,
Wind of the western sea,
Low, low, breathe and blow,
Wind of the western sea!
Over the rolling waters go,
Come from the dying moon, and blow,
Blow him again to me;
While my little one, while my pretty one, sleeps.

Sleep and rest, sleep and rest,
Father will come to thee soon;
Rest, rest, on mother’s breast,
Father will come to thee soon;
Father will come to his babe in the nest,
Silver sails all out of the west
Under the silver moon:
Sleep, my little one, sleep, my pretty one, sleep