i have no idea....

why i am posting this i don't know but i have always been interested in the story of tristan (tristram) and isolde (iseult/ysolde) due to having been named after tristan so when i read a different version of the story to the one i had read when i was younger in a book of arthurian legends i thought i would share it ....... sorry! ;0D

anyway the version i had read was a very short story and i never did understand where it tied in with the legend of king arthur but anyway to keep a long story short:

tristan is a knight of the king of cornwall, the king is to marry a princess from ireland and tristan is sent to escort her to cornwall .... on the voyage they fall in love and nearing the shore tristan, on realising that he could never be with the woman he loved threw himself into the sea and drowned rather than be without her ........ very chivalrous etc and very arthurian i suppose but the version i have just read is this:

during the 6th century, king mark of cornwall owed allegiance to the king of ireland and was forced to send a yearly tribute of young men and maidens to his overlord. one year, morholt, brother of the queen of ireland, was sent to cornwall to demand further tribute. mark's nephew, tristan, challenged morholt to single combat in which, despite being wounded by a poisoned spear, tristan killed the irishman. no cornish man could cure tristan's wound, so trusting in god he set out to sea in a boat without sails or oars.

by chance, the vessel reached the irish coast, where iseult the fair, the king of ireland's beautiful daughter nursed him back to health. afraid of being recognised as the slayer of morholt, tristan quickly returned to cornwall. there he discovered that the courtiers had been trying to persuade king mark to take a wife.

postponing a decision, mark picked up a long golden hair dropped by a passing swallow, and said that he would marry only the maiden to whom that hair belonged. tristan at once set out in search of her.

again he went to ireland where he slew a dragon which was terrorising the whole country. in return, the king gave him iseult the fair as his bride - but it was her hair that the swallow had carried. true to his promise, tristan took her back to cornwall to become mark's queen.

on the journey home, however, the couple accidentally drank a love potion which had been prepared for mark and iseult on their wedding night. they fell deeply in love, and though iseult married king mark, she continued to love tristan. mark soon realised his wife was unfaithful, but the lovers fled into the forest of morrois, where they lived together in great happiness, despite their poverty.

after three years, the power of the love potion wore off. though they still loved each other deeply, they decided that iseult should honour her marriage vows. mark accepted her on condition she would swear on holy relics that she had never been unfaithful. on the way to the church where the relics where assembled, the king and queen came to a ford where they met a leper, whom iseult recognised as tristan in disguise. she asked him to carry her pick-a-back across the ford. he did so, and when she came to the holy relics she was able to swear that no man had been between her thighs except king mark and the leper who had carried her.

tristan left the country. after many adventures, he married a breton girl named iseult of the white hands - though his love for iseult the fair never diminished. years later, tristan was badly wounded in battle and sent for iseult the fair to heal him. he told his messenger to hoist a white sail on the returning ship if iseult was on board, and a black sail if not. as the ship approached, tristan's jealous wifetold him that she could only see a black sail, whereupon tristan died of grief, and iseult, on hearing the news, died soon after. at castle dore, the site of mark's castle near fowey, an ancient cross still marks tristan's grave.

does make me wonder how many ancient legends involve people dying because of the colour of sails? after all there is the greek legend were the crew forgot to change the sails (i think it was on returning from killing the minotaur if memory serves me correctly) to show that the son had survived and the mother (or was it father??) killed themselves ...... was it a usual method of informing those on land? or just a common legend?

it could be a greek messaging service - after all according to geoffrey of monmouth, when he wrote his history of britain in the 12th century, britain was the refuge of the trojan survivors fleeing from the sacking of troy ...... brutus gave cornwall to corineus (sp?) and the name cornwall is derived from his name apparently

i will never understand women ....... you never make any sense ....... it doesn't matter what us guys do we are always wrong, even when we do as you say! the question i often ask myself is why any of us bother even trying?? after all it doesn't matter what we do we are only going to end up apologising for it anyway so we may as well do as we like and make it worth apologising for ;oD

Have you ever been walking down the street and realized that you're going in the complete opposite direction of where you are supposed to be going? But instead of just turning a 180 and walking back in the direction from which you came, you have to first do something like check your watch or phone or make a grand arm gesture and mutter to yourself to ensure that no one in the surrounding area thinks you're crazy by randomly switching directions on the sidewalk. Or is it just me that does it???

thought for the day

More often than not, when someone is telling me a story all I can think about is that I can’t wait for them to finish so that I can tell my own story that’s not only better, but also more directly involves me.

Obituary For
Common Sense


Today we mourn the passing of a beloved old friend, Common Sense, who
has been with us for many years. No one knows for sure how old he was
since his birth records were long ago lost in bureaucratic red tape.

He will be remembered as having cultivated such valuable lessons as
knowing when to come in out of the rain, why the early bird gets the worm,
life isn't always fair, and maybe it was my fault.

Common Sense lived by simple, sound financial policies (don't spend
more than you earn) and reliable parenting strategies (adults, not
children are in charge).

His health began to deteriorate rapidly when well intentioned but
overbearing regulations were set in place Reports of a six-year-old boy
charged with sexual harassment for kissing a classmate; teens suspended
from school for using mouthwash after lunch; and a teacher fired for
reprimanding an unruly student, only worsened his condition.

Common Sense lost ground when parents attacked teachers for doing the
job they themselves failed to do in disciplining their unruly children.
It declined even further when schools were required to get parental
consent to administer Aspirin, sun lotion or a sticky plaster to a
student; but could not inform the parents when a student became pregnant and wanted to have an abortion.

Common Sense lost the will to live as the Ten Commandments became
contraband; churches became businesses; and criminals received better
treatment than their victims. Common Sense took a beating when you couldn't
legally defend yourself from a burglar in your own home and the burglar
can sue you for assault.

Common Sense finally gave up the will to live, after a woman failed to
realize that a steaming cup of coffee was hot. She spilled a little in
her lap, and was promptly awarded a huge settlement.

Common Sense was preceded in death by his parents, Truth and Trust; his
wife, Discretion; his daughter, Responsibility; and his son, Reason.
He is survived by three stepbrothers; I Know my Rights, Someone Else is
to Blame, and I'm a Victim.

Victoria Beckham was being driven around the countryside in her limo.

Suddenly a cow walked into the road and, unable to stop in time, the limo

hit the cow. Slightly shaken up, the driver went to see if the cow was

alright.

'Is it alright?' asked Victoria Beckham.

The driver prodded the cow with his foot and shook his head. 'No ma'am,

it's dead.'

'Well you were driving, so you can go tell the farmer what happened!'

So the driver went off to the nearby farm. A couple of hours later he came

back holding a bottle of wine, his clothes scruffy and messed up.

'Oh my god, what happened to you?' Victoria exclaimed.

'Well ma'am,' explained the driver, 'the farmer gave me this bottle of

wine, the farmer's wife gave a kiss and their daughter made love to me.'

'Just what the hell did you say to them?'

'I'm Victoria Beckham's driver and I've just killed the cow.'

what life is this?

what life is this,

without your kiss,

just longing and needing

until that day,

when it comes,

which will make it all,

every single thing,

well worthwhile

that first slow kiss,

that tender touch,

our arms entwined

our lips pressed close