Wednesday, 29 September 2010

Diddily Dee Dot's Dreamland for Children Everywhere.: Seligor's Castle, where there is so much fun for all of our children in the land. : Blogs

Diddily Dee Dot's Dreamland for Children Everywhere.: Seligor's Castle, where there is so much fun for all of our children in the land. : Blogs
http://peachiesart.blogger.com/
http://seligorscastle.zoomshare.com/
http://dodiesdreamworld.zoomshare.com/
http://jackschoolofmotoring.co.uk

Seligor's Castle, where there is so much fun for all of our children in the land. : Blogs

Seligor's Castle, where there is so much fun for all of our children in the land. : Blogs: "I know it is still four weeks to Halloween but it will soon pass, so we must get things made early. Not the food tho. xxx

SELIGOR'S CASTLE
A troop of alien squeeze-toys played an important role in Buzz and Woody's adventure. . It's a piece of cake to invite these little green monsters to your child's Toy Story-themed party.

Green Alien
Toy Story Green Alien Cupcakes
By Miranda Becker


Toy Story Green Alien Cupcakes
Print
Share

You'll need:

o Cupcakes, baked from your favourite recipe
o White frosting, store-bought or from your favourite recipe
o Neon green food colouring
o Mint-flavoured chewable candies (found packaged in rolls)
o Green apple sour belts
o Green apple sour straws, cut into 2' pieces
o Black decorator gel icing
o Kitchen shears, or a small leaf shaped fondant cutter


Instructions:

1. First, mix up a batch of alien green icing by adding few drops of neon green food colouring to your favourite white icing.

2. Prepare your aliens' ears. Cut ears, shaped like tear-drops, from green apple belts. A pair of kitchen shears works well, or use a small leaf shaped fondant cutter. You will need 2 ears for each cupcake.



Step 2

3. Frost cupcakes and insert a 2' sour straw antenna. Press your ears into the sides of the cupcake.



Step 3

4. Line up three mint-flavoured, chewable candies as eyes, and dot with black gel icing for pupils.

5. Give your aliens an awed expression by drawing on a circle for a mouth with black gel icing.

- Sent using Google Too-bar"

Saturday, 25 September 2010

Dr Dodiddily and the Dee-Dot's : Blog

Dr Dodiddily and the Dee-Dot's : Blog: "Well at last we have made it to Jamaica. Still a long way to go in Africa but now you will have to listen to the main man, not other than Bob Marley himself. R.I.P.
THE CARIBBEAN AND THE NORTH ATLANTIC
Antigua + Berbuda - Bahamas - Barbados - Cuba - Dominica -
Dominican Republic - Grenada - Haiti - Jamaica - St Kitts-Nevis
St Lucia - St Vincent + the Grenadines. Trinidad + Tobago

JAMAICA

This is the Bob Marley Museum in Kingston .

The Bob Marley Museum in Kingston

The Bob Marley legend lives on at the Bob Marley Museum in Kingston Jamaica. Memorials, tributes, and exhibits to Bob Marley and his music can be seen throughout Jamaica. The Bob Marley Museum, housed in a former residence and recording studio of the legendary reggae artist, is the best of the bunch.

Located in uptown Kingston, the Bob Marley Museum is open Monday through Saturday from 9:30 am to 4 pm. An hour-long tour by one of the Rastafarian guards costs about $10 and provides valuable insights into Marley's life and the opportunity to view artifacts and exhibits from his life.

Marley was born in Nine Mile in north-central Jamaica, the son of a white British naval officer and a black Jamaican. Growing up in Kingston Town Bob Marley lived in the slums of Trenchtown. In Kingston Town Bob Marley became friends with Bunny Livingston (later known as Bunny Wailer) and Peter McIntosh (later known as Peter Tosh). Together, the three formed the ska reggae group The Wailers.

The Wailers had several hits in Jamaica in the 1960s, including during a successful period when they teamed up with the pioneering dub producer Lee 'Scratch' Perry. In the late 1960s in Kingston Town Bob Marley and the other Wailers embraced Rastafarianism, which remained an important influence on Bob Marley music and lyrics for the rest of his career.

Bob Marley music came to the world's attention in 1973, after the group was signed with Island Records and Eric Claption scored a #1 hit in America with the Marley composition 'I Shot the Sheriff.' Albums such as Catch a Fire (1973), Natty Dread (1975), and Uprising (1980) cemented the Bob Marley legend.

Bob Marley was also an important ambassador for international peace, racial harmony, and unity in Jamaican policies. His political activities led to an assassination attempt in his Kingston home in 1976, now the site of the Bob Marley Museum.

The Bob Marley legend has only grown since his death of cancer in 1981 at the age of 36. Marley is revered as a national hero throughout Jamaica and as a musical genius by listeners across the world.
The Bob Marley Museum celebrates Marley's life and music. Marley's former studio is now an exhibit hall and theatre. His bedroom is preserved exactly as he left it. Other exhibits document media coverage of his life, provide a replica of a period reggae music store, and display his gold and platinum records. The building is decorated by colourful Rastafarian flags and a vibrant statue of Marley sits in the garden of the Bob Marley museum.
An excellent gift store has Bob Marley music and paraphernalia of every kind.



Posted 17:23


- Sent using Google Toolbar"

Friday, 24 September 2010

The Pirate Ship, A small poem by Stephen Southwold, 1887 - 1964. If anyone is out there who can help me find more about this writer I would be very happy.

ep 2010
The Pirate Ship, A wonderful rhyme by Stephen Southwold. Enjoy
 THE PIRATE SHIP
BY STEPHEN SOUTHWOLD
Ye olde

Pirate's Cavern.

We launched our ship upon the wave,
My hardy crew and I,
We grazed the bar - a narrow shave -
Then raised our flag on high.

And, underneath our pirate flag,
We sailed the seven seas ;
We skirted Michael's towering crag,
But bumped the Pyrenees!

We took a galleon near the line ;
We sacked a town in Spain,
We raided palace, camp, and mine;
We ruled the Spanish Main.

We fought great fleets from everywhere,
With cutlasses and dirks,
And twenty five princesses fair
We rescued from the Turks.

My crew are Tom and Jack and Nell,
The sea, our play-room floor;
The pirate ship's a bath as well ;
The harbour-bar the door!
My

Crew are Tom and Jack and Nell.
You'll walk the plank me hearties
The wonderful Stephen Southwold, one of the many names he used during his long career in writing. But it is mainly as Stephen Southwold that the children that read his wonderful poems and rhymes. He used quite a few other names when his birthdays took him past the children's tales and into the adult story world, gone the fairies and the pirate ships, the froggies and crocodiles, he now had to face the two world wars that followed him though his mid life. But a brilliant writer writes on as long as the world will keep on reading , but as usual time makes us humans grow older and one day in 1964, he left this world to travel to another where hopefully he is still writing wonderful stories, hopefully for the children of the Universe.

Tuesday, 7 September 2010

Llyfr Del - Little Book, Cosyn felyn bach - Little Yellow Flower - in my case a Primrose and Cowslip.

LLYFR DEL

Cosyn Melyn Bach yn Mynd i Nôl Burum i Mam

                                    Little Yellow Rose is going back to Mother Yeast
Gan,   Gwilym Roberts
Cosyn Melyn Bach yn mynd ar daith go bell i nôl burum i mam, ac mi ddoth
  ar draws dyn yn torri [gwair]. [Yna ar draws dyn yn torri clawdd.]


'Ble rwyt ti'n mynd, Cosyn Melyn Bach?' medde'r dyn oedd yn torri clawdd.

'I nôl burum i mam', medde fo.

A dyma'r hen ddyn 'ma'n trio hitio Cosyn Melyn Bach efo cryman.

'Wel, dwi 'di dod heibio dyn yn torri gwair, ac mi â'i heibio chitha, os galla'i', medde Cosyn Melyn Bach. A dyma fo jymp yn 'i flaen . A mi ath am   bwl wedyn a dod ar draws dyn yn torri mawn. A dyma hwnnw'n gofyn:

'Lle rwyt ti'n mynd, Cosyn Melyn Bach?'

'I nôl burum i mam', medde fo, 'dwi wedi dwad heibio dyn yn torri gwair,   heibio dyn yn torri clawdd, ac mi â'i heibio chitha, os galla'i', medde fo, felna. A dyma'r hen ddyn 'ma'n ceisio hitio Cosyn Melyn Bach hefo coes huarn  torri mawn.

A mi ath yn 'i flaen wedyn, ac odd hi'n dechre twyllu erbyn hyn. A dyma Cosyn
  Melyn Bach yn dwad i ryw hen goed mawr, ac yn 'i flaen ath o, a dyma ryw hen
  lew mawr yn dod i'w gwfwr o yn y coed 'ma. Dyma'r hen lew yn gofyn i Cosyn Melyn  Bach:


'Lle rwyt ti'n mynd, Cosyn Melyn Bach?'


'I nôl burum i mam', medde fo, felna.


'Tyrd ar fy nghefn i', medde'r hen lew 'ma wrth Cosyn Melyn Bach. 


'Na, na, wir', medyde Cosyn Melyn Bach, 'mae gen i ormod o'ch ofn chi', medde
  fo, felna.



'Wel, tyrd ar fy ngwar i, 'te', medde'r hen lew 'ma wrth Cosyn Melyn Bach.

  'Na, na, wir', medde Cosyn Melyn Bach, 'mae gen i ormod o'ch ofn chi', medde
  fo, felna.



'Wel, tyrd ar fy mhen i, 'te', medde fo wrth Cosyn Melyn Bach.

'Na, na, wir, mae'ch ofn chi arna i', medde fo, felna.


'Wel, tyrd ar fy nhrwn i, 'te', medde'r hen lew 'ma wrth Cosyn Melyn Bach. 

  A Cosyn Melyn Bach wedi mynd rwan odd o'n crynu fel deilen, ac ofn ofnadwy,
  a hithe'n dechre mynd yn nos. 'Tyrd ar fy nhrwyn i', medde'r hen lew 'ma.



'Na, na, wir', medde Cosyn Melyn Bach, 'mae gen i ormod o'ch ofn chi', medda
  fo, felna. A dyma'r hen lew 'ma yn neidio amdano fo, ac 'AWCH!', medde fo , felna, a dyma fo'n llyncu Cosyn Melyn Bach. [Chwerthin]


Sunday, 29 August 2010

Dr Dodiddily and the Dee-Dot's : Blog

Dr Dodiddily and the Dee-Dot's : Blog:
"The Burial of Moses - Mrs C. F. Alexander. A wonderful piece of Poetry
Dr. Dodiddily and the Dee Dot's
and her own views of the Holy Land Nebo

THE DEATH OF MOSES.

And the Lord spake unto Moses that self-same day, saying. Get thee up into this mountain Abarim, unto mount Nebo, which is in the land of Moab, that is over against Jericho; and behold the land of Canaan, which I give unto the children of Israel for a possession :
And die in the mount whither thou goest up, and be gathered unto thy people; as Aaron thy brother dies in mount Hor, and was gathered unto his people:
Because ye trespassed against me among the children of Israel at the waters of Meribah-Kadesh, in the wilderness of Zin; because ye sanctified me not in the midst of the children of Israel.So Moses the servant of the Lord died there in the land of Moab, according to the word of the Lord. And he buried him there in the valley in the land of Moab, over against Beth-peor :
Yet thou shalt see the land before thee; but thou shalt not go thither unto the land which I give children of Israel. Deuteronomy: parts of chapters xxxii and xxxiv

To climb the 4,000 feet to the top of Mount Nebo would have posed a significant physical challenge for a person of any age. The Scripture records, however, that 'Although Moses was one hundred and twenty years old when he died, his eye was not dim, nor his vigour abated' (Deut 34:7). God provided Moses with continued keen eyesight, so he could see the Promised Land from north to west to south, and with the physical stamina to climb the mountain to view it. On the Plains of Moab there was a month of mourning but no funeral or burial. Moses never had to climb down from the mountain. He never had to report to the people what he had seen. Perhaps he never had to explain why he would not be leading them across the river into the Land. They watched him leave the camp and begin his climb, following his figure until it was out of sight. They waited for him to come down, but they never saw him again. Had Moses told them why he was climbing the mountain, a somewhat unusual act for their aged leader? How many times would they have looked up to those heights, as they mourned below, wondering exactly what had transpired on the 4,000 foot heights of Mount Nebo?


The Burial of Moses

By Nebo's lonely mountain,
On this side Jordan's wave,
In a vale in the land of Moab
There lies a lonely grave,
But no man dug that sepulcher,
And no man saw it e'er ;
For the angels of God upturned the sod,
And laid the dead man there.

Thus was the grandest funeral
That ever passed on earth;
But no man heard the tramping,
Or saw the train go forth -
Noiselessly as the daylight
Comes when the night is done,
And the crimson streak on ocean's cheek
Grows into the great sun :

Noiselessly as the springtime
Her crown of verdure waves,
And all the trees on all the hills
Open their thousand leaves ;
So, without sound of music,
Or voice of them that wept,
Silently down from the mountain's crown
The great procession swept.

Perchance the bald old eagle
On gray Beth-peor's height,
Out of his rocky eyrie,
Looked on the wondrous sight;
Perchance the lion stalking
Still shuns that hallowed spot,
For beast and bird have seen and heard
That which man knoweth not.

But when the warrior dieth,
His comrades in the war,
With arms reversed, and muffled drum,
Follow the funeral car ;
They show the banners taken,
They tell his battles won,
And after him lead his masterless steed,
While peals the minute gun.

Amid the nobles of the land
Men lay the sage to rest,
And give the bard an honoured place,
With costly marble drest,
In the great minster transept,
Where lights like glories fall,
And the organ rings, and the sweet choir sings,
Along the emblazoned wall.

This was the truest warrior
That ever buckled sword,
This the most gifted poet
That ever breathed a word ;
And never earth's philosopher
Traced with his golden pen
On the deathless page, truths half so sage
As he wrote down for men.

And had he not high honour,
The hillside for his pall,
To lie in state while angels wait
With stars for tapers tall,
And the dark rock pines, like tossing plumes,
Over his bier to wave,
And God's own hand, in that lonely land,
To lay him in the grave ?

In that strange grave without a name,
Whence his uncoffined clay
Shall break again, O wondrous thought !
Before the Judgment day,
And stand with glory wrapt around
On the hills he never trod,
And speak of the strife that won our life,
With the Incarnate Son of God.

O lonely grave in Moab's land !
O dark Beth-peor's hill !
Speak to these curious hearts of ours,
And teach them to be still.
God hath his mysterious of grace,
Ways that we cannot tell ;
He hides them deep like the hidden sleep
Of him He loved so well.

Cecil Frances Alexander

In a way it is a little sad that a man who did so much for the Israelites, should have been allowed to die in the valley in the land of Moab, over against Beth-peor, a place whose name bought to mind not greatness but that of a demon:


A famous mountain beyond the Jordan. Nebo and Pisgah were neighbouring mountains.

- Sent using Google Toolbar"

Thursday, 26 August 2010

Dodie's Dream World : Blog

Dodie's Dream World : Blog: "A Little something by my good self, of course it is on my Welsh Page, Cymru. Enjoy.
Dodies Dream World
Share Share
You can turn off the music by clicking on the sound button, left bottom corner of picture frame.
http://apps.rockyou.com/rockyou.swf?instanceid=158124181
I wrote the poem below not long after we moved into our house in Sychdyn. It had been empty a while and the garden was in the most dreadful state. Every plant was being choked by it's neighbour, in fact it was so bad we had to wear our motor bike gloves and jacket to keep the thorns off us. but it was worth it. The picture below is of yet our home now, after all the hard work of making London Road beautiful we moved here to Pontybodkin and once more took at least three years getting it in to shape.. I have as I said wrote this piece of poetry on the completion of ' London Road, Sychdyn.
Sad to say, the house was resold and the garden has vanished, it is all law. It still has a few bits of us still there, including our beautiful Cairn Terrier Little Kelly, who passed away and is buried in the garden. Hush, I'm not telling you where.
Seligor of Seligor's Castle etc.

SWEET RELIEF

the back garden before

Strangled by nature, turned brown under sodden strands of wilting yellow.
Choked stems try to reach up to catch hold of the suns powerful rays.
Thorns dig deep into the fragile growth of youth,
gouging out crevasses that will never be healed.
Dying....all around the cries of starvation can be heard on the wind.
Then new voices are heard, hands wrestle with the undergrowth,
pulling, twisting, turning, letting light through to the darkened soil.

Oh sweet relief.... I can feel a breeze upon my face.
Look, look, there is a light. There, high above me, a faint light shining.
Is this me, saved. Are we all to be saved from this hell that has befallen us.
Reach out, reach up, climb the sunbeam to a new life,
stretch your backs, flex your arms, lift your heads high.
Fresh mown hay gives way to a blanket of green.
Birds sing in the trees above us, bees fly deep into our bellies,
taste the sweet honey which flows freely from within us.

Days pass by, life gets stronger, hearts begin to beat again.
Peach and purple, azure and turquoise, russet and gold.
Colour creeps across the horizon like a rainbow reborn.
Scarlet fuchsia dance gaily above the chamomile lawn.
Tangerine montbretia sway to and fro, like fronds of fire, swaying
beneath the lilac buddleia which is, in turn kissed gently by the painted lady.

Sweet... sweet perfume fills the air, carried on the wind to each hidden corner.
The sickly smell of the honeysuckle tells us that night is descending,
Scented stock adds to the evenings mystic aroma.
Tomorrow we shall awake and feel the dew on our petals,
see the whiteness of the clouds in the summer sky,
feel the softness of the rose petals as they fall upon our delicate blades.

Tomorrow we shall fill our bodies with the silver raindrops
as they fall to the sepia ground beneath our leaves.
Tenderly stretch our roots deeper into the soft earth below.
But now to sleep, to dream in the shadows.
Sleeping quietly, waking sometime, then drifting back to sleep.
The moonlight kisses us whilst we rest, then comes the morning
and we awake knowing we have been blessed.




Written by Dorothy Milnes Simm©1999
<

- Sent using Google Toolbar"

Say thannks to Bed for these wonderful little tales. ht6tp://diddilydeedot.zoomshare.com/

 Not everything about Sunday Tales has to be serious,
These were put together by Ben Witherington;

The Wisdom of Children in Sunday School 



- Or Fractured Bible Tales

The  Sunday school teacher was carefully explaining the story of Elijah the  Prophet and the false prophets of Baal. She explained how Elijah built the  altar, put wood upon it, cut the steer in pieces, and laid it upon the altar.   And then, Elijah commanded the people of God to fill four barrels of water  and pour it over the altar. He had them do this four times "Now, said the  teacher, "can anyone in the class tell me why the Lord would have Elijah pour  water over the steer on the altar?"
A  little girl in the back of the room started waving her hand, "I know! I  know!" she said, "To make the gravy!!"



The  Sunday School teacher was describing how Lot's wife looked back and turned  into a pillar of salt, when little Jason interrupted, "My Mummy looked back  once, while she was driving," he announced triumphantly, "and she turned into  a telephone pole!"


A  Sunday school teacher was telling her class the
story of the Good Samaritan, in which a man was beaten, robbed and left
for dead. She described the situation in vivid detail so her students
would catch the drama. Then, she asked the class, "If you saw a person
lying on the
roadside, all wounded and  bleeding, what would you do?"  A thoughtful little girl broke the hushed  silence, "I think I'd throw up."




A  Sunday school teacher asked, "Johnny, do you think Noah did a lot of fishing  when he was on the Ark?" "No", replied little David, 'cause he only had two worms!"


A  Sunday school teacher said to her children, " We have been learning how  powerful kings and queens were in Bible times. But, there is a higher power.   Can anybody tell me what it is?"
One child blurted out,  "Aces!"

There  was a very gracious lady who was mailing an old family Bible to her  brother  in another part of the country "Is there anything breakable in here?" asked  the postal clerk. "Only the Ten Commandments," answered the lady.



BUMPER STICKER SEEN ON AMISH BUGGY
While  driving in west Pennsylvania , a  family caught up to an Amish carriage. The owner of the carriage obviously  had a sense of humor, because attached to the back of the carriage was a hand  printed sign....
"Energy efficient vehicle: Runs on oats and grass.   Caution: Do not step in exhaust."



Sunday  after church, a Mother asked her very young daughter what the lesson was about.  The daughter answered, "Don't be scared, you'll get your quilt." Needless to  say, the Mum was perplexed. Later in the day, the pastor stopped by for tea  and the Mother asked him what that morning's Sunday school lesson was about.  He  said "Be not afraid, thy comforter is coming."

Nine-year-old  Joey, was asked by his mother what he had learned in Sunday school.
"Well,  Mom, our teacher told us how
God sent Moses behind enemy lines on a rescue  mission to lead the Israelites out of Egypt .. When  he got to the Red Sea , he had his

army  build a pontoon bridge and all the people walked across safely. Then,  he radioed headquarters for reinforcements. They sent bombers to blow up  the bridge and all the Israelites were saved."
 "Now, Joey, is that
really  what your teacher taught you?" his mother asked.
"Well, no,
Mum. But, if I  told it the way the teacher did, you'd  never believe it!"




A  Sunday School teacher decided to have her young class memorize one of the  most quoted passages in the Bible; Psalm 23.

She gave the youngsters a month  to learn the verse. Little Rick excited about the task -- but, he just  couldn't remember the Psalm. After much practice, he could barely get past  the first line.  On the day that the kids were scheduled to recite Psalm 23  in front of the congregation, Ricky was so nervous. When it was his turn, he  stepped up to the microphone and said proudly, "The Lord is my Shepherd, and  that's all I need to know."

A little bit of A A Milne and the Three Foxes who didn't wear sockses, all at diddilydeedot's dreamland

Diddilydeedot's Dream-Land

One little foxesThe Three FoxesTwo little foxes
by A. A. MilneThree little foxes

Once upon a time there were three little foxes
Who didn't wear stockings, and they didn't wear sockses,
But they all had handkerchiefs to blow their noses,
And they kept their handkerchiefs in cardboard boxes.

They lived in the forest in three little houses,
And they didn't wear coats, and they didn't wear trousies,
They ran through the woods on their little bare tootsies,
And the played "Touch Last" with a family of mouses.
One little MousesOne little Mouses
three little Mouses

The didn't go shopping in the High Street shopses,
But caught what they wanted in the wood and copses.
They all went fishing, and they caught three wormses
They went out hunting, and they caught three wopses.

They went to a Fair, and they all won prizes -
Three plum-puddingses and three mince pieses.
They rode on elephants and swang on swingses,
And hit three coconuts at coconut shieses.
One little HouseTwo Little houses
Three litttle houses
That's all I know of the three little foxes
Who kept their handkerchiefs in cardboard boxes,
They lived in the forest in three little houses,,
But they didn't wear coats and they didn't wear trousies,
And they didn't wear stockings and they didn't wear sockses.

what a wonderful man was A.A.Milne.