This is my down day so I played around with my iPhone camera and both the Camera+ and Hipstamatic apps.
This is not a typical November
Camera+ app
All Bundled up.
Camera+ app
Ron Basford Park
Camera+ app
I love shaking Hipstamatic to get random results.
Hipstmatic app
Hipstmatic app
Hipstmatic app
Hipstmatic app
Hipstmatic app
Hipstmatic app
I am glad we have cold weather gear for the boys, but I may have to go and get a warmer coat. I really didn’t believe we would have as much snow as we got this weekend. In the 12 years I have lived in Vancouver, I have only seen snow on the mountains in November.
I am actually looking forward to what could be a white Christmas.
I often wonder if the musicians of today think that they are being very risque and modern about sex. I wonder if they have any idea that in the 16th century the songs and madrigals of the day were very naughty indeed. Most of it was tongue in cheek, but when you think about it, not a lot was hidden in the lyrics.
“Fair Phyllis I saw sitting all alone, feeding her flock upon the mountainside, the shepherds knew not whither she had gone, but after her lover Amyntas hied, and he wandered up and down, whilst she was missing, and when he found her, then they fell a kissing,” *1
Now this may not seem to be as naughty as all that when it is put to you straight like that, but when in a 4 part madrigal with lines being repeated it ends up that:
“Then they fell a kissing and he wandered up and down, up and down he wandered, Kissing up and down . . .”
Have you ever wondered why all the men and women in these songs are always dying? They are not literally dying, they are just having sex and climaxing.
Dainty fine bird that art encaged there, Alas how like thine and my fortunes are. Both prisoners be, and both singing thus strive to please her that hath imprisoned us. Only thus we differ, thou and I, Thou liv’st singing, but I sing and die.” *2
Or they are just more that frolic in the meadows.
“Flora gave me fairest flowers, none so fair in Flora’s treasure, These I placed on Phyllis’ bowers, she was pleased and she my pleasure, Smiling meadows seem to say, Come ye wantons here to play.” *3
More sex and pleasure. It seems that those Phyllises in the 16th century were getting very busy in the outdoors.
I am now thinking that I have my sex talks already planned when Aidan is a teenager. I will use madrigals and Shakespeare to illustrate, hum, well maybe not. This may need a little more time to germinate. At least Aidan asked Anthony all about the box of tampons he read while in the bathroom the other day. I am not sure there are any appropriate madrigals to answer that one.
Sometimes the words you need to get out are not the ones that need to be published. Sometimes the words that come are mean. Sometimes I am a very mean girl. Sometimes this comes from a place of hurt. Sometimes this come from a place of misunderstanding. Sometimes is comes from a need to get the words out even if they are hurtful.
Tonight was one of those times and while I wrote some of the post, I deleted so much that the post is unusable. However, it won’t become one of those posts that I regret in the morning.
I am going to get something to eat, a cup of tea, some cold meds and some sleep. Maybe I will have better words in the morning.
Posted inGwen, words|Taggedwords|Comments Off on Sometimes