Motherhood (by Medora C Addison)
Playing alone by the ocean’s edge,
eager and unafraid,
you are the child I used to be,
playing the games I played.
Now I have only a cowards’ heart,
finding you all too dear,
learning at last that love shall teach
the fearless how to fear.
You are so little against the sky,
laughing and undismayed –
oh little son by the ocean’s edge,
I am afraid, afraid!
… I do have a few things to show you, but I’m trying to catch up on life today and I have a really busy weekend ahead so for now let’s keep to the original schedule. As you know this past week my American friend/AFS sister was visiting from California and we’ve spent most of our time ‘antiquing’, as she calls it. We basically drove around the county and rummaged through old stuff and it was a lot of fun. We have completely opposite tastes in everything so we never argue over anything… I mean… growing up together was always Duran Duran (her) v Bruce Springsteen (me), Dali (her) v Picasso (me), I love eggs and she doesn’t, antique furniture (her) v midcentury (me)… you get the gist…
Anyway one of my ‘finds’ – that provoked a huge eye roll – was this old LP (remember those?) in perfect condition that I just couldn’t leave behind.
So, in honour of friendship and old records here’s one of my favourites:
(photos from 1989… the day we left for our European adventure, I’m on the left with a giant fringe, S is on the right wearing the most awful shorts)
A Time To Talk (by Robert Frost)
When a friend calls to me from the road
And slows his horse to a meaning walk,
I don’t stand still and look around
On all the hills I haven’t hoed,
And shout from where I am, ‘What is it?’
No, not as there is a time to talk.
I thrust my hoe in the mellow ground,
Blade-end up and five feet tall,
And plod: I go up to the stone wall
For a friendly visit.
I’m still here. A little snowbound, a little frozen, burst pipes and beef stews, living a slow life with a friend visiting from sunny California… (I think she’s the happiest person in England with all this snow and cold she normally never sees or experiences!).
Yesterday though we wrapped up warm and drove the short distance to the nearby historic town of Tewkesbury (Gloucestershire). I had forgotten how fun it is to play tourists in your own country… and how surrounded we are with gorgeous places living in this area.
The town is the sight of the famous Battle of Tewkesbury, 4th May 1471 on of the decisive battles in the War of the Roses… (The red roses of York won, the country had a period of stability under King Edward the IV and a whole lot from the house of Lancaster, white rose, died on the battle field or were executed in the Abbey… bloody times). If you’re a history buff there’s a battle trail you can walk. We didn’t. It was cold and snowy.
Tewkesbury has also a stunning Abbey that was consecrated in 1121 – 900 years ago almost! crazy eh? – but there are signs of religious settlement here from the 7th century. Humbling, I can’t even remember what I had for breakfast yesterday.
Isn’t it amazing in the winter snow? Like time stood still…
Also, and I quote the website here, it’s one of the finest example of Norman towers in the country. I don’t really know much about Norman towers (or a lot of other things for that matter) but I can confirm it was impressive to look at. It dominates the view from afar, that’s for sure… in the old days if must have really felt like the eye of god was on you at all times… no messing about folks.
The interior manages to be majestic and intimate at the same time…
After the Abbey visit we walked around the town visiting vintage shops and admiring all the old houses. And we had coffee and cake too, because when it’s cold one’s caloric intake has to be increased, right?
what is going here… I really want to know how are they split inside! Two houses? One house? Interesting.
and this pottery… in every window in this house they were showing off these amazing pieces… sigh…
I want one.
I mean look at these old terraced houses, so cute… the John Moore museum is in one section of this building but it only opens in Spring and Summer… worth going back for…
Lots of crazy ‘vintage’ stores peppers the streets of Tewkesbury and I might have bought a bakelite yarn holder shaped like a beehive. And an old big crochet tablecloth I’d like to dye with indigo.. and maybe, perhaps even a John Denver greatest hits album… but that’s a secret… shhhh.
No we didn’t buy the sitting up, embalmed victorian crocodile. Tempting though.
Fun fact: the number of Tewkesbury’s buildings listed as being of special architectural or historical interest totals more than 350. Amazing.
“Never Let Me Go” by Kazuo Ishiguro.
I’m not going to say too much about this book because I really think you should read it. Everybody should read it. Older generations should read it, teenagers should read it and discuss it in school.
Beautiful. Powerful. Chilling.
The writing is measured and perfectly poised, but don’t let the ‘softness’ trick you… it hits you like a soccer punch when you list expect it. It never strays into melodrama or hyperbole which makes the story even more hard hitting. It’s basically about the relationship between three teenagers in a contemporary world that is totally normal to ours… but it’s not really… but could be… and that’s what is so so scary. Maybe we live in a dystopian world too and we just don’t know it.
I’m pretty sure they made a movie out of this, with Carey Mulligan and Keira Knightly… but don’t watch the movie, read the book. Promise me?
The list so far (I need more suggestions people! The crossed out titles are the books I’ve already read, the one in Italics are your suggestions, the other ones are the ones by my bed, the one underlined is the current read):
2018 – The mermaid and Mrs Hancock (Imogen Hermes Gowar)
2017 – Magari domain resto (Lorenzo Maroni)
2016 – Upstream (Mary Oliver)
2015 – La tentazione di essere felici
2014 – Storia della bambina perduta (Elena Ferrante)
2013 – Careless people (Sarah Churchwell)
2012 – Wonder
2011 – The Paris Wife (Paula McLain)
2010 – Salar the Salmon (Henry Williamson)
2009 – Let the great world spin (Colum McCann)
2008 – The White Tiger (Aravind Adiga)
2007 – Animal, Vegetable, Miracle (Barbara Kingsolver)
2006
2005 – Never let me go (Kazuo Ishiguro)
2004 – The Sunday Philosophy Club (Alexander McCall Smith)
2003
2002 – Everything is illuminated (Jonathan Safran Foer)
2001 – American Gods (Nail Gainman)
2000 – Coram Boy (Jamila Gavin)
1999
1998
1997 – Paradise (Toni Morrison)
1996
1995
1994
1993
1992
1991- Regeneration (Pat Barker)
1990
1989 – The Joy luck club (Amy Tan)
1988
1987 – Norwegian Wood (Haruki Murakami)
1986
1985 – Always Coming Home (Ursula Le Guin)
1984
1983
1982
1981 – The colour purple (Alice Walker)
1980 –
1979 – Sophie’s Choice (William Styron)
1978 – Beauty: a retelling of the story of Beauty and the Beast (R McGinley
1977 – A morbid taste for Bones (Ellis Peters)
1976
1975
1974
1973
1972
1971
1970
… and just like that, one knot at a time, it’s finished.
Well done me.
I love it. I need more knotting in my life.
But first the knitty gritty (I sooooo wanted to say the knotty grotty….)… the pattern and instructions are from this book:
Absolutely brilliant. Easy diagrams and clear photos… I had no trouble at all following it. AND there are lots of really cool projects. See more here.
I used this type of cord. From Amazon. Don’t know if it’s the best thing to use but it worked pretty well and wasn’t too expensive. I think this was 5mm thick, cotton rope.
This is during…
and this is the bottom part… pre fringe…
… and after fringe… once the rope has been unravelled…
Ta dah…
I think the hardest part is cutting the fringe level! I ran into serious risk of going too short!
Such a satisfying little project. I’m thinking is too white white… maybe it could benefit from a dunk into the indigo vat once the weather warms up … we’ll see.
Again, Mary Oliver does it best.
On Winter’s Margin (by Mary Oliver)
On winter’s margin, see the small birds now
With half-forged memories come flocking home
To gardens famous for their charity.
The green globe’s broken; vines like tangled veins
Hang at the entrance to the silent wood.
With half a loaf, I am the prince of crumbs;
By time snow’s down, the birds amassed will sing
Like children for their sire to walk abroad!
But what I love, is the gray stubborn hawk
Who floats alone beyond the frozen vines;
And what I dream of are the patient deer
Who stand on legs like reeds and drink the wind;—
They are what saves the world: who choose to grow
Thin to a starting point beyond this squalor.
This is a blast from the past… but I’m going to see Vonda Shepard this coming Sunday night so …
Have a good weekend!
“the art of knotting string in patterns”
I’ve been admiring all the gorgeous macrame wallhanging for a while now trying to decide if they are cool or too bohemian or too vintage looking.. and I decided on cool. When Mr M and I had some time in Palm Springs, a year or so ago, one wall of the hotel was covered in macrame owls and whilst the jury is still out on the whole ‘owl’ thing… I am fully on the the wall hanging/table running/bag bandwagon.
So I got myself a book:
and string… a LOT of string… (you should have seen the look on my kids’ faces… WTH mum??)
So anyway, I had a piece of dowel left from the quilt hanging and decided to give it a go yesterday afternoon as an alternative to ironing school shirts; do you blame me?
First I had to cut 16 x 3.5m pieces of rope. Strangely satisfying.
Then I mounted them onto the dowel using a reverse lark head knot …
… and then I used all my brain power to memorise the square knot…
… and I was away…
… happily knotting away the time till the boys’ bus got back…
Once your finger have memorised the moves it’s quite a meditative experience… It’s not perfect and I can see a couple of mistakes in the piece above that need to be fixed… but it’s so much fun! I can’t wait to learn the next move…
Just don’t expect owls anytime soon.
We got back from our half term break to find snowdrops flowering everywhere around here. It’s such a welcome sight because it really feels spring is around the corner and the dark winter days are finally over. Nature never lies.
Did you know there are more than 2500 varieties of snowdrops? Mind boggling… The latin name ‘Galanthus Nivalis’ literally means “milk flower of the snow” and contain a substance ‘galantamine’ which is used to treat symptoms of Alzheimer. In British folklore they represent purity and innocent, but their bulbs are poisonous and one single flower growing in a garden on its own symbolises death.
So don’t eat them but try finding those places around the country where they grow in their thousands creating amazing white carpets amongst the trees. So so beautiful.
Yesterday, my parents and I played tourists and went to visit such a place and although they thought I was slightly deranged taking them to see … ‘small white flowers’… they soon changed their mind.
We drove to the beautiful Cotswold village of Painswick home of the Rococo Garden (the country only surviving complete rococo garden built in the 1740s as a pleasure garden… great views, whimsical buildings… it’s the cutest thing).
That’s my mum… doing the tourist ‘thang’…
I’m thinking this red little folly would be a fantastic sewing studio…
there’s also a maze – I love mazes – the hedges spell ‘250’ as it was built on that anniversary of the garden.
This is a beautiful place regardless of the season but the snowdrops are really showing off at the moment…
The sun shone for us and the air was definitively still chilly… but… as William Wordsworth one said…
… Blue-eyed May
Shall soon behold this border thickly set
With bright jonquils, their odours lavishing
On the soft west-wind and his frolic peers;
Nor will I then thy modest grace forget,
Chaste snowdrop, venturous harbinger of spring,
And pensive monitor of fleeting years.
while you're ahead... 