Easter Blessings
Saturday, April 07, 2012
Wednesday, April 04, 2012
April 4th, 2012
At the breakfast table my bones and joints are speaking to me plaintively, complaining about grey skies, the icy wind that is blowing from the mountain tops and the lack of sunshine that would surely comfort them.
Although I am sympathetic to their needs my thoughts wander to a ninety six year old woman I saw on television last night as I was preparing supper. Ninety six, and she was still comfortably plumb, quite nimble and when she sat down she picked up her crocheting and spoke cheerily about her life and activities, - clearly one of those people born with a pleasant and positive disposition and a propensity for good health!
Then I thought about some of the people I know who are younger than me (well, that's easy) but who are miserable in their old age, 'halting' around, I thought!
Halting around??? Where did that phrase come from before it popped into my head.
I brought up the subject with Charles, who somehow, in the wink of an eye, turned my question into a political discussion. How does he do that????
Eventually he expressed his opinion about the meaning of 'halting around', and I was quite in agreement with him. I walked to the library the other day without my butterfly cane, and on the way home I definitely felt that I was 'halting along'....and thought sadly of the days when I was so proud of walking gracefully.
I am going to go to the drugstore this afternoon to buy myself one of those nice light canes that have a cord running through them which allow them to fold up into a nice purse size. Charles has two of them, but I need one of my own that can live in my purse (which is really a large carpet bag) and be handy whenever I find I am 'halting along'.
However, that doesn't solve the real problem that was bothering me. Here we are, medical science having presented many of us with a life span that lasts probably ten years longer, and have we prepared for it with good living, lots of exercise, a healthy diet and the tenacity to maintain a cheerful attitude in the face of these complaining joints and muscles and bones.....I ask you?
At the breakfast table my bones and joints are speaking to me plaintively, complaining about grey skies, the icy wind that is blowing from the mountain tops and the lack of sunshine that would surely comfort them.
Although I am sympathetic to their needs my thoughts wander to a ninety six year old woman I saw on television last night as I was preparing supper. Ninety six, and she was still comfortably plumb, quite nimble and when she sat down she picked up her crocheting and spoke cheerily about her life and activities, - clearly one of those people born with a pleasant and positive disposition and a propensity for good health!
Then I thought about some of the people I know who are younger than me (well, that's easy) but who are miserable in their old age, 'halting' around, I thought!
Halting around??? Where did that phrase come from before it popped into my head.
I brought up the subject with Charles, who somehow, in the wink of an eye, turned my question into a political discussion. How does he do that????
Eventually he expressed his opinion about the meaning of 'halting around', and I was quite in agreement with him. I walked to the library the other day without my butterfly cane, and on the way home I definitely felt that I was 'halting along'....and thought sadly of the days when I was so proud of walking gracefully.
I am going to go to the drugstore this afternoon to buy myself one of those nice light canes that have a cord running through them which allow them to fold up into a nice purse size. Charles has two of them, but I need one of my own that can live in my purse (which is really a large carpet bag) and be handy whenever I find I am 'halting along'.
I took a linen hat, a pair of old leather gardening gloves and my red snippers out of the bag before I snapped it, so you can see that a foldable cane would live quite roomily in it.
Tuesday, April 03, 2012
ABC Wednesday
April 3rd, 2012
L is for Sir Thomas Lawrence
At only 21 he took the London art world by storm at the Royal Academy exhibition of 1790, dazzling audiences with his full lenth portraits of Queen Charlotte and the actress Elizabeth Farren. "Their frankness, vivacity and delight in textures and detail departed from the overblown allegories of Grand Manner portraiture' and the critis acclaimed him a rival and successor to Sir Joshua Reynolds.
One of his well-known portraits, a painting of Sarah Barrett Moulton (known to her family as PINKIE)
A bit of gossip.
Aways in Love, always in Debt, Lawrence was involved with the Siddons sisters, - first with Sally, then with Maria, then back to Sally. However, it is said that it was really their mother, Sarah Siddons (the actress) that he was enthralled with. Lawrence's entanglements with the Siddons family has been the subject of three books and a recent radio play.
Sir Lawrence never married. He died suddenly on the 7th of January, 1830 from heart complications, leaving a number of unfinished paintings in his studio. The collection was eventually split up and auctioned. Many of his creditors were paid, but there was no money left, although a memorial exhibition at the British Institution raised Three Thousand Pounds which was given to his nieces.
April 3rd, 2012
L is for Sir Thomas Lawrence
Sir Thomas Lawrence, the most popular portrait painter in Europe in the early 1800s.
At only 21 he took the London art world by storm at the Royal Academy exhibition of 1790, dazzling audiences with his full lenth portraits of Queen Charlotte and the actress Elizabeth Farren. "Their frankness, vivacity and delight in textures and detail departed from the overblown allegories of Grand Manner portraiture' and the critis acclaimed him a rival and successor to Sir Joshua Reynolds.
One of his well-known portraits, a painting of Sarah Barrett Moulton (known to her family as PINKIE)
And another of Charles Lampton, entitled Red Boy. Pinkie is more often seen with
Gainsborough's Blue Boy.
A bit of gossip.
Aways in Love, always in Debt, Lawrence was involved with the Siddons sisters, - first with Sally, then with Maria, then back to Sally. However, it is said that it was really their mother, Sarah Siddons (the actress) that he was enthralled with. Lawrence's entanglements with the Siddons family has been the subject of three books and a recent radio play.
Sir Lawrence never married. He died suddenly on the 7th of January, 1830 from heart complications, leaving a number of unfinished paintings in his studio. The collection was eventually split up and auctioned. Many of his creditors were paid, but there was no money left, although a memorial exhibition at the British Institution raised Three Thousand Pounds which was given to his nieces.
Lady Harriet Maria Coningham
I find this to be a particularly appealing portrait by Sir Thomas.
For more great L's visit here at ABC Wednesday with thanks to Mrs. Nesbitt and her Lucky helpers.
Saturday, March 31, 2012
March 31st, 2012
Spring is taking her own sweet time, lolly-gagging around somewhere....certainly not in the hills.
The skies are back to that unbroken, dull grey. Not even a pearly grey....
I am still waiting to hear first reports of the call of the meadowlark, and tomorrow is the 1st of April.
Either my sentinels are not being very attentive, or the meadowlarks are down south,
partying with Spring and the Sun and Soft Breezes.
The skies are back to that unbroken, dull grey. Not even a pearly grey....
I am still waiting to hear first reports of the call of the meadowlark, and tomorrow is the 1st of April.
Either my sentinels are not being very attentive, or the meadowlarks are down south,
partying with Spring and the Sun and Soft Breezes.
Well, it seems there are lots of things to do in the garden before the warm weather arrives. Charles is almost ready to lay the pruning shears aside.
I would like to plant some more sweet peas around the garden's periphery fences and maybe some morning glories as well, as they go right until the end of summer once they get blossoming.
This afternoon we are going to an open house hosted by the local Museum Society, and we are looking forward to ranging through their history books and meeting old friends and new people who are curious about the valley where they have chosen to live.
We begin to feel like pioneers of a sort, although there were many who were here before us.
Most of them lie below, listening to the whispers of the wind blown grassses.
And are they waiting for the sun to shine and the meadowlarks' sweet call, as well?
Tuesday, March 27, 2012
ABC Wednesday
March 28th, 2012
K is the letter of the week.
I decided not to wander too far from home and to show you a little of the town we live in - Keremeos.
A nice, neat town nestled along the banks of the Similkameen in the shadow of K Mountain, Keremeos began as a Hudson's Bay Company trading post in 1860, and since it was first founded it has moved twice before it finally found a place to settle down.
Today the well preserved early 1900's buildings give the town a distinctive Old West feel.
With cattle ranching, hay ranging, fruit growing and vineyards the mainstays in the surrounding community in the summer you will be delighted to find the wineries open to tourists and the highway lined with fruit stands.
Coming into town from Penticton the first fruit stand you will see is one of the largest and I think the most attractive as our elder daughter did all the art work that distinguishes it and makes it known Canada wide amongst visitors. It is announced by this sign peaking over the hill a mile or so from town.
Spanning the Similkameen River is the Red Bridge, one of only a handful of covered bridges remaining in North America. It is a reminder of the time when the Great Northern Railway ran up the Similkameen River to Hedley and Princeton, - it is now a highway bridge to the Ashnola and the Cathedral Lakes Park.
I hardly know which picture to show you, - it is all so beautiful in the park. The lakes are like exquisite jewels set amongst the granite of the mountains, and the hiking trails take you through a truly wild
Overlooking Keremeos, high above in the hills above the ranchland, are the Keremeos Columns, natural basalt columns nearly 100 feet high, extending for some distance along the face of a cliff northeast of the town. Formed from thirty million year old volcanic activity the columns can't be seen from the main road, but one must seek permission from private landowners before hiking up to their splendour.
Keremeos also has western Canada's oldest flour mill, and the only one remaining with most of its machinery intact. Careful restoration has included the reconstruction of an operating water wheel and flume. The mill was built in 1877 by Barrington Price and his store, with its 1894 wallpaper still in place is now an exhibit space full of intriguing hands on displays.
March 28th, 2012
K is the letter of the week.
I decided not to wander too far from home and to show you a little of the town we live in - Keremeos.
A nice, neat town nestled along the banks of the Similkameen in the shadow of K Mountain, Keremeos began as a Hudson's Bay Company trading post in 1860, and since it was first founded it has moved twice before it finally found a place to settle down.
Today the well preserved early 1900's buildings give the town a distinctive Old West feel.
With cattle ranching, hay ranging, fruit growing and vineyards the mainstays in the surrounding community in the summer you will be delighted to find the wineries open to tourists and the highway lined with fruit stands.
Coming into town from Penticton the first fruit stand you will see is one of the largest and I think the most attractive as our elder daughter did all the art work that distinguishes it and makes it known Canada wide amongst visitors. It is announced by this sign peaking over the hill a mile or so from town.
Spanning the Similkameen River is the Red Bridge, one of only a handful of covered bridges remaining in North America. It is a reminder of the time when the Great Northern Railway ran up the Similkameen River to Hedley and Princeton, - it is now a highway bridge to the Ashnola and the Cathedral Lakes Park.
I hardly know which picture to show you, - it is all so beautiful in the park. The lakes are like exquisite jewels set amongst the granite of the mountains, and the hiking trails take you through a truly wild
Here is a picture of Keremeos, taken from the columns....
Keremeos also has western Canada's oldest flour mill, and the only one remaining with most of its machinery intact. Careful restoration has included the reconstruction of an operating water wheel and flume. The mill was built in 1877 by Barrington Price and his store, with its 1894 wallpaper still in place is now an exhibit space full of intriguing hands on displays.
We also have rodeos, - the Chopaka Rodeo on Easter Sunday, hosted by the
Lower Similkameen First Nations
and the traditional May 24th rodeo hosted by the local Elks' Lodge and the Community
Great exciterment, - lots to do here, and it is a lovely Valley. Do come and visit.....
For more wonderful K's click here and visit at ABC Wednesday, hosted by Mrs. Nesbitt and her Keen helpers.
Monday, March 26, 2012
Monday, March 26th, 2012
A little welcome rain this evening. The smooth grey dome of the sky has broken into small patches of light, some darker clouds and in the valley drifts of mist and falling rain. Somehow it is much less depressing and I am happy to see the sidewalks wet and glistening, and the little thin lawn we have in the front yard greening up quite nicely in the evening light.
Monday morning, and I was full of plans for the week. Black bananas to fold into muffins, and a nice quick hamburger soup that should last the week for lunches - early morning energy prompted me to get the soup and muffins made before coffee time, and after that an hour in the garden with my back turned resolutely on Charles' creative pruning of the cedar globe. It fancies itself as a shrub, but Himself sees it as a tree!!!! As long as he leaves lots of shelter for the little birds who hover and dive inside its sheltering branches.
After a small period after lunch with my toes up and my eyes closed I went to the post office to mail two diverse cards, - one in sympathy and the other a celebrity birthday wish. On to the grocery store where I picked up a pot of brilliant reticulata Iris to take to my dear friend Joan, who lives now with Alzheimers.
It has been a while since I have visited her, and I have heard others say that she doesn't recognize them, but when I walked in and she saw me coming her eyes lit up and she raised her arms in welcome from the wheelchair she was in, and I was touched to know that I still lived in her mind and her memory.
We have been friends for over sixty years. Joan is our younger daughter's Godmother, and she has been closer than a sister to me for all of the years I have known her. It warms my heart that I can sit and hold her hand, and talk to her about our families, about things that happened in the early years when we were still young, and she can respond. Sometimes I have to guess at what she is saying in her whispery voice, but always I can see the response in her eyes.
I ask myself why I cannot take half an hour out of my day to go and sit with her and bring pleasure to us both...why do we let the small duties and the worrisome thoughts that fill our lives distract us from the most important moments we could spend in kindness and love? I pray to be more mindful and less neglectful, and I write this here to imprint it on my heart as a reminder.
A little welcome rain this evening. The smooth grey dome of the sky has broken into small patches of light, some darker clouds and in the valley drifts of mist and falling rain. Somehow it is much less depressing and I am happy to see the sidewalks wet and glistening, and the little thin lawn we have in the front yard greening up quite nicely in the evening light.
Monday morning, and I was full of plans for the week. Black bananas to fold into muffins, and a nice quick hamburger soup that should last the week for lunches - early morning energy prompted me to get the soup and muffins made before coffee time, and after that an hour in the garden with my back turned resolutely on Charles' creative pruning of the cedar globe. It fancies itself as a shrub, but Himself sees it as a tree!!!! As long as he leaves lots of shelter for the little birds who hover and dive inside its sheltering branches.
After a small period after lunch with my toes up and my eyes closed I went to the post office to mail two diverse cards, - one in sympathy and the other a celebrity birthday wish. On to the grocery store where I picked up a pot of brilliant reticulata Iris to take to my dear friend Joan, who lives now with Alzheimers.
It has been a while since I have visited her, and I have heard others say that she doesn't recognize them, but when I walked in and she saw me coming her eyes lit up and she raised her arms in welcome from the wheelchair she was in, and I was touched to know that I still lived in her mind and her memory.
We have been friends for over sixty years. Joan is our younger daughter's Godmother, and she has been closer than a sister to me for all of the years I have known her. It warms my heart that I can sit and hold her hand, and talk to her about our families, about things that happened in the early years when we were still young, and she can respond. Sometimes I have to guess at what she is saying in her whispery voice, but always I can see the response in her eyes.
I ask myself why I cannot take half an hour out of my day to go and sit with her and bring pleasure to us both...why do we let the small duties and the worrisome thoughts that fill our lives distract us from the most important moments we could spend in kindness and love? I pray to be more mindful and less neglectful, and I write this here to imprint it on my heart as a reminder.
Friendship is always a sweet responsibility................
Kahil Gibran
Saturday, March 24, 2012
A Leisurely Day..
We had a day in the garden yesterday, - blue skies blazing above us and signs of 'sex in the garden' all around us (I saw butterflies and bees, and the pussy willows with their velvety, silvery seeds turning golden as they prepare to spread their pollen, not via the wind, but by insects that are attracted to their strongly scented nectar. There is not much competition around for insect attention, so the early bird more or less gets the worm).
And the male catkins on the hazelnut trees, growing longer and more fertile, eager to impregnate the small bright red female catkins concealed in the buds of the tree.
Charles had the shears and the small snipers close by in the basket on his cart, and his eye on suckers and a tidy vision of well pruned shrubs and trees in his mind!!!! There is no stopping the man.....
I dug out the grass which had grown up between the raised bed and the neighbour's fence, and prepared the ground to plant some of the heritage sweet pea seeds that have been part of our lives wherever we have lived, carried in small containers from the orchard where Charles grew up, and where his mother first planted them circa 1920.
Just above them I plan to have a Sweet Autumn Clematis to lend magic to the autumn garden.
Well, it all wore us out, and so we decided that today would be a day of leisure.
Charles fiddled around with a duet set of lights he is going to install in the computer room while I made oatmeal cookies. They are supposed to be the product of a fabulous recipe that makes ten dozen cookies, but I have never been able to stretch them that far, - perhaps because we like our cookies larger or maybe because I taste too often....
While I was doing this my mind was very much on the map I have spread on the kitchen table, showing the location and names of the original veterans who first occupied the Fairview Heights Irrigation District on the Cawston Bench. (It has just passed through my mind that I would like to recommend this venture to present day 'Occupiers' and maybe it would open their eyes to life's realities).
I have started at the north end of the project, studying a map that Charles made many years ago of the original and subsequent veterans (and sometimes non-veterans) and in a couple of cases veterans of the German Army....
I am making notes, dragging forth memories from the deepest recesses of my mind, consulting with Charles and with some our children and also with other old-timers from that era; and with the children of some of the original veterans who have stayed with the land.
Some of the memories make me wonder at the tenacity with which we faced many hardships, and sometimes the memories of the parties and picnics and friendships we had bring smiles and great pleasure.
I don't think I can record all of our memories without turning the Fairview Heights blog into a gossipy rag but we do have fun recalling them.
After lunch we had a little nap, that turned into a rather extended affair, but tomorrow is another day - Charles will find more branches to snip and I will get those sweet peas planted. and all the plants and trees will continue their passionate springtime affairs.
We had a day in the garden yesterday, - blue skies blazing above us and signs of 'sex in the garden' all around us (I saw butterflies and bees, and the pussy willows with their velvety, silvery seeds turning golden as they prepare to spread their pollen, not via the wind, but by insects that are attracted to their strongly scented nectar. There is not much competition around for insect attention, so the early bird more or less gets the worm).
And the male catkins on the hazelnut trees, growing longer and more fertile, eager to impregnate the small bright red female catkins concealed in the buds of the tree.
Charles had the shears and the small snipers close by in the basket on his cart, and his eye on suckers and a tidy vision of well pruned shrubs and trees in his mind!!!! There is no stopping the man.....
I dug out the grass which had grown up between the raised bed and the neighbour's fence, and prepared the ground to plant some of the heritage sweet pea seeds that have been part of our lives wherever we have lived, carried in small containers from the orchard where Charles grew up, and where his mother first planted them circa 1920.
Just above them I plan to have a Sweet Autumn Clematis to lend magic to the autumn garden.
I haven't had one of these beautiful clematis since we moved from 10th Avenue
Well, it all wore us out, and so we decided that today would be a day of leisure.
Charles fiddled around with a duet set of lights he is going to install in the computer room while I made oatmeal cookies. They are supposed to be the product of a fabulous recipe that makes ten dozen cookies, but I have never been able to stretch them that far, - perhaps because we like our cookies larger or maybe because I taste too often....
While I was doing this my mind was very much on the map I have spread on the kitchen table, showing the location and names of the original veterans who first occupied the Fairview Heights Irrigation District on the Cawston Bench. (It has just passed through my mind that I would like to recommend this venture to present day 'Occupiers' and maybe it would open their eyes to life's realities).
I have started at the north end of the project, studying a map that Charles made many years ago of the original and subsequent veterans (and sometimes non-veterans) and in a couple of cases veterans of the German Army....
I am making notes, dragging forth memories from the deepest recesses of my mind, consulting with Charles and with some our children and also with other old-timers from that era; and with the children of some of the original veterans who have stayed with the land.
Some of the memories make me wonder at the tenacity with which we faced many hardships, and sometimes the memories of the parties and picnics and friendships we had bring smiles and great pleasure.
I don't think I can record all of our memories without turning the Fairview Heights blog into a gossipy rag but we do have fun recalling them.
After lunch we had a little nap, that turned into a rather extended affair, but tomorrow is another day - Charles will find more branches to snip and I will get those sweet peas planted. and all the plants and trees will continue their passionate springtime affairs.
Monday, March 19, 2012
ABC Wednesday
J is this week's letter
This first day of spring, while March is still roaring around with wild winds, frantic clouds, snow flurries and showers, seems to be the time to contemplate JUNE gardens.
Hope you enjoy the sunshine and warm breeze and relax amongst the flowers of June.
For more wonderful J words visit here at ABC Wednesday where Mrs. Nesbitt and her Jolly crew maintain this great meme.
J is this week's letter
This first day of spring, while March is still roaring around with wild winds, frantic clouds, snow flurries and showers, seems to be the time to contemplate JUNE gardens.
Hope you enjoy the sunshine and warm breeze and relax amongst the flowers of June.
For more wonderful J words visit here at ABC Wednesday where Mrs. Nesbitt and her Jolly crew maintain this great meme.
Saturday, March 17, 2012
Saturday, March 17th, 2012
Hope you have had a lovely St. Patrick's Day
Old Man Winter came storming down from the hills during the night,
anxious that we do not mistake Spring's flirting ways with Reality!!
Nevertheless I cling to this quote by Adrienne Cook..
"St. Patrick's Day is an enchanted time - a day to begin
transforming winter's dreams into summer's magic!!!"
Are you with me?
Friday, March 16, 2012
Friday, March 16th, 2012
The Forsythia blooms in the window, and after a week of Mister March's grey skies, angry clouds and wild winds today was a day of pure indulgence. Blue skies, soft white clouds, springtime warmth and a lovely stillness in the air. I raked more leaves, uncovered more bright green spears and knobs, and Charles tangled with the climbing roses as he cut back great long branches and brought order to small intricate forkings.
Of course we all know that this may only be a temporary reprieve, - there could be snow tomorrow in the high passes as Winter lays claim to the last few days the calendar grants him. He could be only resting before a final onslaught, - but there, let's all be positive!
I popped around to the store this afternoon and stopped to chat with a colleague from the Secondary School Library. Twenty years ago we worked together one summer adding data to the library software so that when school opened in the fall everything was up to date and digital. Now, of course, we are both retired, and she had just returned from New Zealand where she spent a month on a large sheep farm.
I thought this was an absolutely marvelous way to spend a holiday!
It was shearing time and as we talked I remembered all the excitement when the itinerant shearer came for the day (or sometimes two or three days).
We have a DVD of family memories, and part of it is devoted to the farm and in particular to the sheep activity.. It was usually my job to skirt and tie the fleeces with paper string, but in the video Charles is doing this part of the operation and he does it quite elegantly and much faster than I ever did.
But then he didn't have his eye out for special fleeces to put aside for spinning, and that takes time and adds great pleasure to the task.
My friend tells me that fleeces are no longer tied, but rather when they have been skirted they are classed as to quality, folded and rolled and tossed into relevant bins, where they are pressed down. She has promised to bring me pictures and I will be terribly envious of her experience and will reminisce about that part of farming that really appealed to me most.........
The Forsythia blooms in the window, and after a week of Mister March's grey skies, angry clouds and wild winds today was a day of pure indulgence. Blue skies, soft white clouds, springtime warmth and a lovely stillness in the air. I raked more leaves, uncovered more bright green spears and knobs, and Charles tangled with the climbing roses as he cut back great long branches and brought order to small intricate forkings.
Of course we all know that this may only be a temporary reprieve, - there could be snow tomorrow in the high passes as Winter lays claim to the last few days the calendar grants him. He could be only resting before a final onslaught, - but there, let's all be positive!
I popped around to the store this afternoon and stopped to chat with a colleague from the Secondary School Library. Twenty years ago we worked together one summer adding data to the library software so that when school opened in the fall everything was up to date and digital. Now, of course, we are both retired, and she had just returned from New Zealand where she spent a month on a large sheep farm.
I thought this was an absolutely marvelous way to spend a holiday!
It was shearing time and as we talked I remembered all the excitement when the itinerant shearer came for the day (or sometimes two or three days).
We have a DVD of family memories, and part of it is devoted to the farm and in particular to the sheep activity.. It was usually my job to skirt and tie the fleeces with paper string, but in the video Charles is doing this part of the operation and he does it quite elegantly and much faster than I ever did.
But then he didn't have his eye out for special fleeces to put aside for spinning, and that takes time and adds great pleasure to the task.
My friend tells me that fleeces are no longer tied, but rather when they have been skirted they are classed as to quality, folded and rolled and tossed into relevant bins, where they are pressed down. She has promised to bring me pictures and I will be terribly envious of her experience and will reminisce about that part of farming that really appealed to me most.........
Tuesday, March 13, 2012
ABC Wednesday
March 14th, 2012
And the letter this week is I
How about I is for Ianthe
March 14th, 2012
And the letter this week is I
How about I is for Ianthe
John William Godward
Ianthe was as Cretan girl, so beautiful that when she died the Gods made
purple flowers grow around her grave.
She was betrothed to Iphis, a woman raised as a man who also fell in love
with Ianthe and prayed to the gods to allow the two woman to marry.
She was changed by Isis into a man and became Ianthe's husband.
Here are three small poems by Walter Savage Landor, 1775-1864
Ianthe's Troubles
Your pleasures spring like daisies in the grass,
Cut down and up again as blithe as ever,
From you, Ianthe, little troubles pass
Like little ripples in a sunny river.
Ianthe's Question
Do you remember me? or are you proud?
Lightly advancing thro' her star-trimmed crowd.
Ianthe said, and look'd into my eyes
'A yes, a yes to both for Memory
Where you but once have been must ever be,
And at your voice Pride from his throne must rise'
Soon, O Ianthe! Life is O'er
Soon, O Ianthe! life is o'er,
And sooner beauty's heavenly smile:
Grant only (and I ask no more),
Let love remain that little while.
In reading about Ianthe I have come to the conclusion that her beauty was the muse for many men who used her name to describe the women they loved. And I am also made aware of how ancient
is the idea of 'gender-bending'.......
For more takes on the letter I visit here at Mrs. Nesbitt's ABC Wednesday,
an Ideal meme.
Sunday, March 11, 2012
Sunday, March 12th, 2012
Another cloudy day, but as I glance out the window I see that the catkins on the hazelnut tree have grown about an inch longer. -not hanging limply, but seemingly fat and sassy and preparing to go into their sex act, spreading pollen far and wide.
Yesterday, as I raked the leaves from under the tree I found a few hazelnuts which must have been hiding in the fall, half buried in the thawing soil. Gentle raking turned up lovely green spikes, probably daffodils, but some are fatter and not as far advanced, and I'm hoping they might be tulips. Nice surprises all around when you don't know exactly what spring flowers flourish in the garden.
A big pruning project going on these days, - Charles does the branches he can reach and is the official mad master pruner, but Frank is not far behind him as I see what a dramatic job he has done on the tree in the front yard, (the pruning of which has been badly neglected in the last few years). Mere amateurs freeze in horror as branch after branch is removed, but in the end it is quite apparent what these experienced pruners are seeing in their mind's eyes. as the trees or shrubs come alive with new wood and healthy leaves when we go deeper into spring and summer.
Late in the afternoon I went to the store for milk, and came home with a nice roast of beef and a lovely pink Anthurium.....as well as the milk, of course. I am easily distracted by the display of flowers and plants but try to keep on course when it comes to the grocery list.
Here is an update on the very slow growth on the Lenten Roses and the lovely spikey leaf buds on the Rowan tree.
It occurs to me that I should be posting these bits and pieces about the garden to the Garden Diary, which lies neglected since I finished the posts from the garden on the hill, - the one that is crying for attention!!!
Next time.......
We did the great Spring Forward to accommodate the Daylight Saving people last night, and by the time Midsummer Murders was over and we had moved the clocks forward it was shockingly late. The idea of a little nap is very appealing at the moment........
Another cloudy day, but as I glance out the window I see that the catkins on the hazelnut tree have grown about an inch longer. -not hanging limply, but seemingly fat and sassy and preparing to go into their sex act, spreading pollen far and wide.
Yesterday, as I raked the leaves from under the tree I found a few hazelnuts which must have been hiding in the fall, half buried in the thawing soil. Gentle raking turned up lovely green spikes, probably daffodils, but some are fatter and not as far advanced, and I'm hoping they might be tulips. Nice surprises all around when you don't know exactly what spring flowers flourish in the garden.
A big pruning project going on these days, - Charles does the branches he can reach and is the official mad master pruner, but Frank is not far behind him as I see what a dramatic job he has done on the tree in the front yard, (the pruning of which has been badly neglected in the last few years). Mere amateurs freeze in horror as branch after branch is removed, but in the end it is quite apparent what these experienced pruners are seeing in their mind's eyes. as the trees or shrubs come alive with new wood and healthy leaves when we go deeper into spring and summer.
Late in the afternoon I went to the store for milk, and came home with a nice roast of beef and a lovely pink Anthurium.....as well as the milk, of course. I am easily distracted by the display of flowers and plants but try to keep on course when it comes to the grocery list.
Here is an update on the very slow growth on the Lenten Roses and the lovely spikey leaf buds on the Rowan tree.
It occurs to me that I should be posting these bits and pieces about the garden to the Garden Diary, which lies neglected since I finished the posts from the garden on the hill, - the one that is crying for attention!!!
Next time.......
We did the great Spring Forward to accommodate the Daylight Saving people last night, and by the time Midsummer Murders was over and we had moved the clocks forward it was shockingly late. The idea of a little nap is very appealing at the moment........
Wednesday, March 07, 2012
Visiting the Garden on the Hill
It was only a short visit, - and very ambivalent. On the one hand I was thrilled to be there and to see daffodils poking a couple of inches above the ground, but on the other hand my heart sank when I realized how much work awaited to get all that garden tidying done before spring came calling in earnest.
This is a picture of the garden at the beginning of March, last year.
We had just had a flurry of snow, but it is indicative of
the tons of debris that need to be cut down and hauled away, - alas!
Eventually I got my mind around this dilemna which involves a lack of time and energy versus the pleasure of being in the garden again, and I decided that I need to hire an intrepid interim gardener for a few days.
I came home with a few budding sticks of forsythia, three bird feeders that had been left amongst the lushness of the garden and a small Chinese pergoda chime.
Soon we will be enjoying the golden blooms.
For those who might be interested I saw no signs of activity at the Chinese Underground Railway Stations
but no doubt a few days of sunshine will fire up the engines again!
Tuesday, March 06, 2012
ABC Wednesday
The letter this week is H and I figure there is nothing better to describe H than Happiness.
The letter this week is H and I figure there is nothing better to describe H than Happiness.
Happiness is an inside job...William Arthur Ward
Happiness is not an ideal of reason,
but of imagination. Immanuel Kant
There are some days when I think I am going
to die from an overdose
of satisfaction. Salvador Dali
marielliott
Happiness is a conscious choice, not
an automatic response. Mildred Barthel
The essence of philosophy is that a man should so live
that his happiness shall depend as little as possible
on external things. Epictetus
Smile........ be Happy
Lots of other great stories about the letter H over here at
ABC Wednesday with thanks to Mrs. Nesbitt and her Happy Band of Helpers.
s
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