Trying to charge me for using my own image

I just received a demand in the post from what looks like a reputable stock image company who shall (for the moment) remain nameless for payment for my use of this image on this blog.

Will tourists be standing in line just to photograph the Orbit Tower in 50 years time?  Source - my original image taken April 2007
Will tourists be standing in line just to photograph the Orbit Tower in 50 years time?
Source – my original image taken April 2007


Extract from my reply:

“I recently received a letter to my home address re an image used on my personal blog. The image is from my own collection, was taken in Paris in 2007 and uploaded to Flickr. The same image of the Eiffel Tower from below must appear in literally millions of other people’s photos!
You can see my original image here
As you can see it was taken in April 2007
Like all my images it carries a Creative Commons license.
I trust the matter is now settled.”


A quick image search reveals many similar photos. It’s an iconic landmark after all.  Millions must have stood where I did and taken this exact shot. I wonder if they will pursue them all?

As it happens my photo has a Creative Commons license so anyone can use it on their website, and I hope lots of people will! Still I wonder how many will be approached and  cough up the £350 to “amicably settle the matter” and never realise?




Playing with html

So I’m trying to figure out a new bit of code that will let me link within posts. It should allow me to make a contents list or just provide a quick link to a relevant part of a long post.

<li><a href=”#Example1″>Example 1</a></li>
<li><a href=”#Example2″>Example 2</a></li>
<li><a href=”#whateveryouwant”>link text of your choice</a></li>


Should give:

The anchor text is preceded by <a name=”insertanchor”>anchor text here</a>

The name anchor does not need the # but the link text does.
So let’s try it

<a name=”insertanchor”>anchor text here</a>





Example 1



link text of your choice

This is not working for me. The links just drop me at the comment form or below it.

Hmm back to the drawing board.

More memories, or the joys of streetview

Nana’s house now
Note the pristine flower beds, now all gone

Places that were lost can come back to us these days thanks to the internet in general and Google Streetview in particular.

This was my grandparent’s house. My mother’s mother and father lived here with my widowed auntie and my unmarried uncle. This was the hub of a huge extended  family of aunties, uncles and cousins. My grandparents had  a lot of children, my Mum was the next to youngest, so I have 31 full cousins! At home I might have been an only child but for most of my summers I was just one of the gang. Well, not quite, I was the tag-along, the in-betweenie, a bit younger than the rest, a bit older than the 2nd cousins, but still one amongst many. In the summer holidays we’d all be there.



The House

My best (summer) friend lived next door in the police houses. We’d play for hours in those gardens but we knew better than to stray into the big vegetable garden or we’d be for it. Now there’s just grass where once there was row upon row of vegetables and soft fruit.

In the evenings I’d read. I’d find a quiet corner of the big living room and lose myself in a book.  I had a summer library card and I read some great novels borrowed from the rather majestic  library. My favourites were historical and usually heart-breakingly sad! Hilda Lewis’ The Gentle FalconDeirdre of the Sorrows (click through & listen to it being read!), and a rather wonderful children’s book about the Underground Railway and the slave trade whose name escapes me. I’d get the same three books out at the start of the holidays every year, devour them quickly then move on to whatever else took my fancy.

Back to the house then with one final memory. Walking down the road with my Nana and seeing my Dad raise his camera. “You dare, Tommy! Just you dare!” and he did. I’m on the end, that’s one of my 2nd cousins in the middle.  I miss the hedges. It looks so bare now.And the point of all of this? Just a reflection that nothing is really lost if it’s still in my memory, even if I need a jog from a photo to bring it back into focus.

Now – it was much greener back then, even if it was in black and white!


‘Liminal’ is a word that’s been copping up a lot recently in various conversations and I started to wonder if I really knew what it means. I’d vaguely thought it was related to ‘subliminal’, maybe a psychological term, that was being borrowed to use to describe physical spaces.

Wikipedia says:

The spatial dimension of liminality can include specific places, larger zones or areas, or entire countries and larger regions. Liminal places can range from borders and frontiers to no man’s lands and disputed territories, to crossroads to perhaps airports or hotels, which people pass through but do not live in: arguably indeed all ‘romantic travel enacts the three stages that characterize liminality: separation, marginalization, and reaggregation’


Old Friends

my winter hat
My winter hat

Old friends, or be careful what you ‘like’

So my ‘old friend’ (‘old’ as in I’ve known her a long time!) Maggie has a newish venture. She set up a Facebook page for it Tanglewool Designs (actually called the rather wonderful Tanglewool Garbutt!) and I was looking through the hats. I happened to ‘like’ one of the photos and before I knew it Maggie was offering to knit me one for Christmas.

Lucky me. It arrived in double quick time and it is lovely. Beautifully knitted, the classic Fair Isle pattern produces a cosy double fabric. Maggie’s tension as a knitter is second to none and of course it is properly knitted in with none of those amateur loops that give Fair Isle a bad name. It feels great and my ears are suitably warm!

If you like it you could order your own  via Tanglewool Designs Etsy page.

Haiku for my Father

Branches arch and curl
Grey path vanishes into green,
Soft petals hide sharp thorns.

Wide, brown river drifts.
A silent heron flies up,
Narrow footbridge sways.

Foaming water falls,
Silver salmon leaps the caul,
Splash in a deep pool.

Sky darkens with cloud,
Black cows sit, backs to the wind,
Cold rain on my cheeks.


Now as elusive as the brown trout
Hiding in the deep pools
A sense of essence.

I feel you at my side as I walk
I turn to speak
The dark river bends away.