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On Holiday —-Sort Of!

On Holiday —-Sort Of!
Hello Mother, hello Father – Iv’e arrived at camp pajama. Well of course that’s not right and I am not that old and probably neither are you (You may be able to ask someone.) Back there in the blog. I mentioned Peter S and I guess this is the time. But as I frame and flash back  it may make no sense, so all will eventually be mumbled out and no conclusions made. I have none myself but this is sort of how it happened…… What were you doing in  the summer of 1983? I have a letter. kindly forwarded to my by my Father that I sent to them, Mum and Dad.( I received this in 2010 and have been staring at it ever since. right up to the point it took me two days to find.) Dad was an adventurer and I am sure much to Mum’s disquiet paid for my 1983 Inter Rail card. For you North Americans one month of unlimited rail travel all over Europe, I am sure you can  imagine, (Well sorry, I guarantee all your  imaginings fall short,  I don’t have a word for what It, it was weirder. Your imaginings will be short of the mark. Most of what you are thinking has been over done. (By lots of uncouth Americans ,lol) (see modern language sneaking in). Exploding trousers! (Pants, well either or are quite alarming, we will leave that for another day, I will unedited,...

Hot and Cold

Hot and Cold
well not a lot of thinking going on over here summer turns to winter and I once again wonder why. Not why the seasons come and go but why here in the bloody cold. I know I prefer hot to cold . SEE                               Well not sure where I am going with this but it dawns on me that If I am to keep memories alive they need to be somewhere other than in a cardboard box. Maybe there is a randomness to it all that does not need to be so heavily curated. I met this guy in a bar has something to do with a local entertainment free paper bands and the like and I remember all that stuff at University so for the heck of it some photos to remind me I Like Rock and Roll.                                ...

Drinking Flying Squirrels!

Drinking Flying Squirrels!
Sitting in the Laundromat drinking Flying Squirrels would normally indicate the summer is here and I am perched in the Rocky Mountains camping, walking and frantically camering. As it happens I am not drinking Flying Squirrels and am there fore not in the Rockies. Unfortunately that non- statement, statement is the only way I can explain the last few months or more exactly, December 28th 2015 to December 28th 2016. That’s the dates between which I wrote nothing, not a word in my novel and only two post on this here Bio Blog. The fact that I can now happily contemplate Flying Squirrels is in fact a good sign. That I am blogging away with little hope of being heard is strangely calming. Oh I still occasionally give my blog address to some one on the odd occasion I peer out from the silence. You see I turned off the voices in my head. No, No, don’t picnic sorry panic; not those sort of voices. The Narrator Voice remember the one I credit with all the ramblings on this blog and the world building in the novel and the life  building in life. You know that day to day stuff that stretches out to make a life time. Together with  the general background noise of existence  and  the anxiety of reality makes for a deafening non-functioning roar. A garbled sense of conversations from the bottom of the swimming pool.  So click, you switch it all...

In Out In Out Shake it all about....

In Out In Out Shake it all about.
So am I realy going to bang on about the mysteries of the Oaky Cokee? Possibly but not realy, Is it a mysterious reference to BREXIT ? Possibly, possibly not. Is it a conversation about closets,water and otherwise; could be all of these things and none of these things. It could be about taking the Red pill or the Blue pill. Yes that’s it lets talk about the Red pill and the Blue pill (If for some unknown reason you have never seen The Matrix you might need to go watch it and then come back, I will be waiting). Took the red pills once and I must admit they work a treat, they would have worked better if the person they had been prescribed to had actually took them but you can’t help some people. As for the Blue pill, well what the hell am I going to do with a four hour erection? I mean I have approximately 32 minuets and 20 seconds of innovative caring and well practiced moves that I have never had any complaints about. I am not convinced anything I would come up with after that would be entirely sensible or welcome. I do have  a little voice at the back of my head who wants to shout Geronimo and leap of the top of the wardrobe but I have a feeling that may end in disaster or at least a trip to the hospital. So this business...

Stuck in the Middle With You.

Stuck in the Middle With You.
Well not exactly stuck in the middle with you but stuck in the middle with me. The current self stuck between the past self and the future self and having a bit of a rough time of it. There are no obvious outward signs of this unless lack of momentum can be detected, an object at rest. Everything appears the same as yesterday or the week before or even the year before. I will have to admit my middle is a bit more middler than in the past and there appear to be more bills than actual paychecks but I am reliably informed that’s a universal state of affairs. Its not an old fashioned mid life crisis as I think at my age I have probably passed the half way point did not get a fancy sports car or started following #1 sons fashion tastes  I did however rant and rave and stamp my feet and start this Bio Blog that I have been suspiciously absent from. I tell myself SEE I DONE STUFF! I had a life, I got where I was going even though I had no Idea where that was. Its here on the Prairies and its a holding pattern So Whats Next. Why This inertia why does a day seem to last for ever and years fly by. Well its the middle isn’t it there are few things that are any good in the middle. Well i’m assuming its the middle...

The Ghost of New Years Past

The Ghost of New Years Past
  So here we are New year 2016, Christmas is finished and I look backwards! Well that doesn’t sound right I think I don’t look too bad for an old duffer like our new dog Diego who joined us in March 2015 I in solidarity sport a set of almost magnificent whiskers. Any new year resolutions or recommendations for this year  nope the Grumpy Elf has had his editorial rights rescinded and its just me. So to follow the theme boldly set out here is Christmas present.   Here is the Tribe 2015 and yes #1 Son is 6’5″ and #1 Daughter is 5’9″ and Diego well he is shorter, I will have to admit this is the second attempt at a Family photo the first for some reason made me look like a right fat batard, there are rumors as to some sort of resolution that fixes that but apparently I can’t eat cheese, white bread, drink wine or eat curries. (So good Luck Enforcing that then.) Well 2015 was the year I started putting my name on things my Flickr and Instagram account so the Funky Nomad not so incognito and in that spirit I give you the Millennium Falcon (Sorry about that I actually mean the Millennium in the Falklands, because that’s where I was when 1999 rolled into 2000 and all the computers kept running.) With Star Wars coming round once again I thought I would have to get on...

Diego Adventure Dog

Diego Adventure Dog
This year there is a new member of our Tribe, a 2 and a 1/2 year old Yorkshire  Terrier called Diego. We haven’t had a dog before and my Daughter has been pleading with me for a very long time. So when a late afternoon e-mail from a work colleague popped up saying there was a free Yorkshire Terrier up for grabs my reply was in the milliseconds and Yay I was first in line and long story short a couple of days later we had a dog, I was sold at Yorkshire so I suppose its a good job he is not a Yorkshire Rottweiler or Hippo or anything else on the large side. I should have had no fear of standing or sitting on him as he pays special attention to that sort of thing and gives a good bark on most occasions however he does sneak up behind me in stealth mode when I am cooking  and is pretty used the me screaming W.T.F Diego. He now makes sure he is under the chair or kitchen table when he is sneaking about. Now I am not his actual official photographer that job I leave to  the Good Lady Wife who has an amazing amount of images of daily life recording all sorts of things, so much so that I think I am going to have to borrow a few for some articles to come. And its my own fault as I...

Bleaklow & The Rambling man...

Bleaklow & The Rambling man
So the Rambling man returns,climbing his way back on to the interweb and this here Bio-Blog. The Funky Nomad is revealed as no other than…… Now hang on there a tic, maybe just because I have told the Old Man and his friends where to find my Ramblings is no reason to actually come clean. Well I hope not because I like being one of the many alternative me’s out there, where would we all be if along our journey we were not allowed to re-invent ourselves now and again. I had thought to mysteriously reinvent myself as the West Riding Tyke but I have already offered that to a friend should he ever become a radio presenter. Some of you may have spotted the overuse of the word Rambling, not just in this post but posts leading up to this and if you read other posts you may discover words foreshadowing posts to come and why not as it usually takes a year or so for all the pieces to come together. This one in particular has had a longer birth than most it has been probably up to 80 years in its making. Allow me to take you on a journey that ended up here at the bridge with ‘No Berries on the Tree’.     So without further ado I will turn you over to the antics of these four merry men, now I am not claiming that they have as...
recent from 9 Drinking Flying Squirrels!
Sitting in the Laundromat drinking Flying Squirrels would normally indicate the summer is here and I am perched in the Rocky Mountains camping, walking and frantically camering. As it happens I am not drinking Flying Squirrels and am there fore not in the Rockies. Unfortunately that non- statement, statement is the only way I can explain the last few months or more exactly, December 28th 2015 to December 28th 2016. That’s the dates between which I wrote nothing, not a word in my novel and only two post on this here Bio Blog. The fact that I can now happily contemplate Flying Squirrels is in fact a good sign. That I am blogging away with little hope of being heard is strangely calming. Oh I still occasionally give my blog address to some one on the odd occasion I peer out from the silence. You see I turned off the voices in my head. No, No, don’t picnic sorry panic; not those sort of voices. The Narrator Voice remember the one I credit with all the ramblings on this blog and the world building in the novel and the life  building in life. You know that day to day stuff that stretches out to make a life time. Together with  the general background noise of existence  and  the anxiety of reality makes for a deafening non-functioning roar. A garbled sense of conversations from the bottom of the swimming pool.  So click, you switch it all off, Yesterday & Tomorrow ™ and you do Today only Today. When the background sounds of interference and static finally ebb as they undoubtedly will if you take the proper steps, the world lazily blooms back into focus and voila!  There is room to contemplate the what if once more, the Narrator wakes up refreshed and timidly service is resumed. The trapped self once again...
recent from 8 On Holiday —-Sort Of!
Hello Mother, hello Father – Iv’e arrived at camp pajama. Well of course that’s not right and I am not that old and probably neither are you (You may be able to ask someone.) Back there in the blog. I mentioned Peter S and I guess this is the time. But as I frame and flash back  it may make no sense, so all will eventually be mumbled out and no conclusions made. I have none myself but this is sort of how it happened…… What were you doing in  the summer of 1983? I have a letter. kindly forwarded to my by my Father that I sent to them, Mum and Dad.( I received this in 2010 and have been staring at it ever since. right up to the point it took me two days to find.) Dad was an adventurer and I am sure much to Mum’s disquiet paid for my 1983 Inter Rail card. For you North Americans one month of unlimited rail travel all over Europe, I am sure you can  imagine, (Well sorry, I guarantee all your  imaginings fall short,  I don’t have a word for what It, it was weirder. Your imaginings will be short of the mark. Most of what you are thinking has been over done. (By lots of uncouth Americans ,lol) (see modern language sneaking in). Exploding trousers! (Pants, well either or are quite alarming, we will leave that for another day, I will unedited, unexplained and without a safety net re-veal all.( I mean I will type it out as written only adding photos and the like to illustrate. To you I leave the burden, of making any sense of this at all,   Dear Mother and Father, I thought it was about time I wrote to inform you of all the events that have taken place in the...
recent from 21 Shades Of A Blue Orphanage
Well here I sit listening to Thin Lizzy, ‘Shades Of A Blue Orphanage’ no less.  Yes I have a copy on CD digitally re-mastered and all sorts of bonus tracks that disturb me. So the question you are asking did I sell my Soul and whats the story with Eddie Prevost? And shame on you who are wondering what I am talking about, do you know nothing ? Did you not read THE FUNKY NOMAD provisos, its what it all about. Now click the link and catch up will you, goodness gracious me unbelievable. ( Yes I know I asked you to subscribe and thanks) So now we are on the same page did I sell my soul, well I don’t think so but it had me a bit worried, had I accidentally made a deal at the crossroads. Does making an offer on the interweb constitute a contract with unknown arcane powers? Probably not, or maybe yes, its hard to tell at this point. In truth I found out a while ago 2010 that this had been re-released, I bought a copy a few months back but have not admitted to it for various reasons. Will the journey now be over for riseanddeardemise.ca has the purchase of Shades killed the whole premise? And of course what of Eddie Prevost. Nothing is straight forward in the world of the Funky Nomad, if it was what would I have to blog about, what would keep me up at night. Question, why didn’t I just go buy it when it came out if it was so important to me, walk over to HMV place an order and just buy it. To be honest it seemed a bit like cheating. In theory I could take the whole list of missing albums pay the price and there they would be. But its not...
recent from 4 On Holiday —-Sort Of!
Hello Mother, hello Father – Iv’e arrived at camp pajama. Well of course that’s not right and I am not that old and probably neither are you (You may be able to ask someone.) Back there in the blog. I mentioned Peter S and I guess this is the time. But as I frame and flash back  it may make no sense, so all will eventually be mumbled out and no conclusions made. I have none myself but this is sort of how it happened…… What were you doing in  the summer of 1983? I have a letter. kindly forwarded to my by my Father that I sent to them, Mum and Dad.( I received this in 2010 and have been staring at it ever since. right up to the point it took me two days to find.) Dad was an adventurer and I am sure much to Mum’s disquiet paid for my 1983 Inter Rail card. For you North Americans one month of unlimited rail travel all over Europe, I am sure you can  imagine, (Well sorry, I guarantee all your  imaginings fall short,  I don’t have a word for what It, it was weirder. Your imaginings will be short of the mark. Most of what you are thinking has been over done. (By lots of uncouth Americans ,lol) (see modern language sneaking in). Exploding trousers! (Pants, well either or are quite alarming, we will leave that for another day, I will unedited, unexplained and without a safety net re-veal all.( I mean I will type it out as written only adding photos and the like to illustrate. To you I leave the burden, of making any sense of this at all,   Dear Mother and Father, I thought it was about time I wrote to inform you of all the events that have taken place in the...
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