Lone Yacht, Charles Dickens and Knitting

Walking today in another bitter and quite strong wind, we saw just one sailing boat in a beautifully coloured sea.

Lone yacht

It has been one of those March days so well described by Charles Dickens.

Charles Dickens

Knitting is receiving a very good press, research showing how it helps to calm the knitter!

Beautiful piece by Unknown – if anyone can help, I would love to give credit


Spring Flowers and Two Poems for You

Our Crocus flowers opened wide for the brief sunshine this morning.

In the Suffragette garden, Crocus flowers and nearby bursting buds

A poem entitled March came my way recently and I share it with you here. Natasha Trethewey is another poet new to me. She is an American poet despite her Cornish name – Cornish heritage perhaps.

March 1912 – Natasha Trethewey                             

–Postcard, en route westward

At last we are near
breaking the season, shedding
our coats, the gray husk

of winter.  Each tree
trembles with new leaves, tiny
blossoms, the flashy

dress of spring. I am
aware now of its coming
as I’ve never been—

the wet grass throbbing
with crickets, insistent, keen
as desire.  Now,

I feel what trees must—
budding, green sheaths splitting—skin
that no longer fits.

It rained the rest of the day, tears running down the window panes, echoing the pain felt in our choir at the loss of one of our members.  This poem also turned up recently and it seems the right moment to share it.

When you meet someone deep in grief


Posted by on March 15, 2018 in Uncategorized


Tags: ,

Stephen Hawking, Rain and More Rain

We woke to the news that the amazing Stephen Hawking had died early this morning. The tributes to him have been wonderful and on The World at One this wonderful song of him with The Monty Python team was played. Here it is for you.

The following quotation came up today too. What a remarkable man he was in so many ways.

Stephen Hawking

It’s raining again!  Here is Welly-dog with daffodils through a rainy window. I love the distortion brought about by the water on the glass.

Through a rainy window


Tags: ,

Spider, Camellia Flowers and Blue

I was photographing the delicate Narcissi when I noticed the spider within.

Spider on Narcissi and web lines

The lane we walk down to get to town is covered in dropped Camellia flowers. These two caught my eye, one recently fallen and one in a further state of decay.

Camellia flowers

The wall garden is looking pretty with blue Hyacinths and yellow Tete a Tete.

Blue with yellow


Tags: ,

First Ice-Cream, Dedication and Sally-Boots

We went for a ‘Mother’s Day’ lunch today at The Gylly  on the beach and it was delicious and much quieter than yesterday would have been. We also had our first scrumptious ice-creams of the season!

Roskilly’s Toffee Crunch ice-cream

Afterwards we did a short coastal walk to Swanpool and noticed for the first time the following lovely dedication on a bench.

When we miss you….

Last night I finished of a pair of Sally-boots for a baby expected any day now by one of my ex-pupils with whom I have stayed in touch. They are ready to post as soon as word comes through.


P.S.  LiveWire 3, whose 7th birthday it is today, loves her sewing box and all the bits therein!  🙂



Mother’s Day UK, Sylvia Plath and A Blackbird

It’s Mother’s Day here in the UK and as well as yesterday’s flowers and having No 1 Daughter here for breakfast, a special treat, there were cards and  phone calls. I am a very lucky Mum.

I wanted to give you a poem today, for all  Mums, with us or not and whom we honour with our gratitude and our love. This poem by Sylvia Plath is a reminder of the early days of Motherhood and I love its opening line –
” Love set you going like a fat gold watch”, the sense of “moth breath” which so catches the delicacy of a new-born’s breathing and the way the baby’s voice has “clear vowels” which “rise like balloons,”  reminiscent for me of all four of ours.

Here is Morning Song by Sylvia Plath.

Love set you going like a fat gold watch.
The midwife slapped your footsoles, and your bald cry   
Took its place among the elements.
Our voices echo, magnifying your arrival. New statue.
In a drafty museum, your nakedness
Shadows our safety. We stand round blankly as walls.
I’m no more your mother
Than the cloud that distills a mirror to reflect its own slow
Effacement at the wind’s hand.
All night your moth-breath
Flickers among the flat pink roses. I wake to listen:
A far sea moves in my ear.
One cry, and I stumble from bed, cow-heavy and floral
In my Victorian nightgown.
Your mouth opens clean as a cat’s. The window square
Whitens and swallows its dull stars. And now you try
Your handful of notes;
The clear vowels rise like balloons.


The Blackbirds have now eaten all the seedy pastry I put out for them. I need to make some more.

Blackbird in the feeding house

Here is my link to Soulful Sunday . Thank you Mindful Gardener for the meme.


Tags: ,

Bouquet, American Pick-up and Cutter

A gorgeous bouquet was delivered this morning ready for Mother’s Day tomorrow.Thank you KJ, perfect colours for the year and our celebration of your Great Great Granny!

Mother’s Day bouquet in Suffragette colours

I was late to town this morning so decided to drive and was pleased that I did given that I was behind this amazing old American pick-up as we crept towards the traffic lights. Everyone who walked up West End stopped and smiled at the sight.

1959 Ford Ranchero

I made some Cheese pastry today and used my Mum’s fabulous cutter that just rolls through the pastry creating circles. I needed circles for a starter for tonight’s Birthday meal for our eldest daughter who is here for the weekend.

Circle cutter


Tags: , ,

%d bloggers like this: