Connel Microlight And Light Aircraft Flying Club

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Flying today! :))
Perhaps even get my license this year, if the darn weather holds out…

These pics are from actually up round Oban, ones from round Cumbernauld where I will be just aren’t quite the same…

“Behold, The Majestic Oil Refinery!, and over there, A Squishing Sawdust into MDF Sheeting Manufactory!”

They were however taken from a microlight or trike as they are sometimes called by our US cousins…
(some nice vids on the US page!)

More UK info here micropages.co.uk .

Oh, and should probably be plugging this here: The StumbleUpon Aviators Group

Upper Loch Etive

Balvicar Bay

Duart Point, Isle of Mull

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The Fedora Lounge – Powered by vBulletin

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(F.T.P.)
Welcome to The Fedora Lounge.
The place where nobody tries to put the bite on you. Come on in.
Everybody here is just like you…only more so.

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TasSwing – The Tasmanian swing dance website

    The Tasmanian swing dance website!

      So you live in, or are visiting Tasmania, and you want to swing dance?
      Well, you’re in the right place!
      This site contains all the information about lessons and social dancing
      you’ll need.”

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Underclocker Obscura :: scribbles :: 1

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The Popo generally lives over at mnemosine’s, but valiantly
jumped in to save the day when the 3rd monkey (‘Leave it till the last minute’) was held up in traffic.

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The Drive Home – Stefan Nesbitt – Poem by



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The Drive Home

The evening draws to a close
Excuses are made and we
– say our goodbyes

On the drive home
you sleepily tell
– me you love me

I smile, soft, bemused
ask ‘why? ‘, not
– that you say

But why, after all these years
why do you
– still love me?

I cannot think of reasons anymore
perhaps because
– it is so late

Though perhaps also it’s
that we no longer
– need reasons

When we were strangers still
we did, as love was
– spiced with fear

But do we now? I ask, and turn
to see your reply
– but you are sleeping
– head on seatbelt.

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This Should Be – Stefan Nesbitt – Poem by

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This Should Be

This should be in the movies,
white silk and a red velvet rose.
You lie beside me, in soft focus.
I stroke your back.
We don’t have to get up today

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Left Hand – Stefan Nesbitt – Poem by

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Left Hand

A passing romany
(in a car more expensive than mine)
sells me: lace cushion covers,
polished stones, and – pretty fortunes.
Empty, but smiling; I pay.

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Sad Songs – Stefan Nesbitt – Poem by


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Sad Songs

I sing along.
Melancholy songs for sad people,
minor key for the lost or the lonely.
A bitter wash of sweet sound,
buries me, and I drown
in whispered memories,
that can no longer touch me.

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The Truth About Beauty… – Stefan Nesbitt – Poem by

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    The Truth About Beauty…

    If beauty lies
    in the eyes of beholders
    how then can we know
    beauty’s
    truth…?”

    To Truly See Beauty.

    ..
    .Close.
    .Your.
    .Eyes.
    ..

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Poles by Jeff Alu [AnimAlu]



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Telegraph Road

A long time ago came a man on a track
Walking thirty miles with a pack on his back
And he put down his load where he thought it was the best
Made a home in the wilderness
He built a cabin and a winter store
And he ploughed up the ground by the cold lake shore
And the other travellers came riding down the track
And they never went further, no, they never went back
Then came the churches then came the schools
Then came the lawyers then came the rules
Then came the trains and the trucks with their loads
And the dirty old track was the telegraph road

Then came the mines – then came the ore
Then there was the hard times then there was a war
Telegraph sang a song about the world outside
Telegraph road got so deep and so wide
Like a rolling river. . .

And my radio says tonight it’s gonna freeze
People driving home from the factories
There’s six lanes of traffic
Three lanes moving slow. . .

I used to like to go to work but they shut it down
I got a right to go to work but there’s no work here to be found
Yes and they say we’re gonna have to pay what’s owed
We’re gonna have to reap from some seed that’s been sowed
And the birds up on the wires and the telegraph poles
They can always fly away from this rain and this cold
You can hear them singing out their telegraph code
All the way down the telegraph road

You know I’d sooner forget but I remember those nights
When life was just a bet on a race between the lights
You had your head on my shoulder you had your hand in my hair
Now you act a little colder like you don’t seem to care
But believe in me baby and I’ll take you away
From out of this darkness and into the day
From these rivers of headlights these rivers of rain
From the anger that lives on the streets with these names
‘cos I’ve run every red light on memory lane
I’ve seen desperation explode into flames
And I don’t want to see it again. . .

from all of these signs saying sorry but we’re closed
All the way down the telegraph road

– Mark Knopfler/Dire Straits –

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