Healing with play, joy and laughter
Monthly Archives: August 2015
August and ‘Sandy glory’
Adding a face to her sand angel – in all her ‘sandy glory’
What a gloriously evocative poem this is!
August (from ‘The Months’) – Linda Pastan
Barefoot
and sun-dazed,
I bite into this ripe peach
of a month,gathering
children
into my arms
in all their
sandy
glory,heaping
my table each night
with nothing
but corn and tomatoes.
Words to live by
It is Hip Op day. I am looking forward to tomorrow becoming today so that the next phase can begin…………….
Bee Stamps, Flowers and Favourite Words
Today some lovely new stamps have been issued, beautifully illustrating some of our native bees.
New stamps
2 Â I was in Penryn today and their flowers are as lovely as ours in Redruth.
Flowers in Penryn
I love Dylan Thomas’ Play for Voices, ‘Under Milk Wood’. As a family we used to listen to it on a pair of 78s so I grew up with these wonderful words in my head and later I was able to choose it as a modern play to teach at GCSE. Here are the wonderful opening words:
FIRST VOICE [very softly]
To begin at the beginning:
It is Spring, moonless night in the small town, starless and bible-black, the cobblestreets silent and the hunched, courters’-and- rabbits’ wood limping invisible down to the sloeblack, slow, black, crowblack, fishingboat-bobbing sea. The houses are blind as moles (though moles see fine to-night in the snouting, velvet dingles) or blind as Captain Cat there in the muffled middle by the pump and the town clock, the shops in mourning, the Welfare Hall in widows’ weeds. And all the people of the lulled and dumbfound town are sleeping now.
Hush, the babies are sleeping, the farmers, the fishers, the tradesmen and pensioners, cobbler, schoolteacher, postman and publican, the undertaker and the fancy woman, drunkard, dressmaker, preacher, policeman, the webfoot cocklewomen and the tidy wives. Young girls lie bedded soft or glide in their dreams, with rings and trousseaux, bridesmaided by glow-worms down the aisles of the organplaying wood. The boys are dreaming wicked or of the bucking ranches of the night and the jollyrogered sea. And the anthracite statues of the horses sleep in the fields, and the cows in the byres, and the dogs in the wet-nosed yards; and the cats nap in the slant corners or lope sly, streaking and needling, on the one cloud of the roofs.
You can hear the dew falling, and the hushed town breathing.
Only your eyes are unclosed to see the black and folded town fast, and slow, asleep.
And you alone can hear the invisible starfall, the darkest-before- dawn minutely dewgrazed stir of the black, dab-filled sea where the Arethusa, the Curlew and the Skylark, Zanzibar, Rhiannon, the Rover, the Cormorant, and the Star of Wales tilt and ride.
Listen. It is night moving in the streets, the processional salt slow musical wind in Coronation Street and Cockle Row, it is the grass growing on Llareggub Hill, dewfall, starfall, the sleep of birds in Milk Wood.
Listen. It is night in the chill, squat chapel, hymning in bonnet and brooch and bombazine black, butterfly choker and bootlace bow, coughing like nannygoats, suckling mintoes, fortywinking hallelujah; night in the four-ale, quiet as a domino; in Ocky Milkman’s lofts like a mouse with gloves; in Dai Bread’s bakery flying like black flour. It is to-night in Donkey Street, trotting silent, with seaweed on its hooves, along the cockled cobbles, past curtained fernpot, text and trinket, harmonium, holy dresser, watercolours done by hand, china dog and rosy tin teacaddy. It is night neddying among the snuggeries of babies.
Look. It is night, dumbly, royally winding though the Coronation cherry trees; going through the graveyard of Bethesda with winds gloved and folded, and dew doffed; tumbling by the Sailors Arms.
Time passes. Listen. Time passes.
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And here, for your delectation, is the wonderful Richard Burton reading those words:
I shall be without any internet contact for the next few days as I am going into hospital to have my left hip totally replaced. I’ll be back soon and have scheduled a few posts for you to enjoy.
A Day Out – St Anthony Head
We have had a beautiful day out, going across the King Harry Ferry to The Roseland and on to St Anthony Head where we had a short walk and basked in the sunshine. Click on any photo for detail and the caption.
Following a hay laden tractor
Gerrans Church
Butterflies
Brown butterfly
Across to St Mawes and beyond
Sailing
Butterfly
A beautiful cove along our walk
Wren taking a dust bath
Arum maculatum
The King Harry Ferry approaching The Roseland side ready to take us across
Canoeing in the River Fal near King Harry Ferry
Moored near the King Harry Ferry
Laid up ships in the River Fal
What a lovely day out for  our 48th Wedding Anniversary which is next week when I may not be up to celebrating! Tonight we are going out for a special dinner too. Happy days!
Soups, Walk and Marmalade
Today I have made some Runner Bean soup (recipe here but do try googling Runner Bean soup!) and some delicious Carrot, Orange and Mint Soup.
Soups in pint containers, ready to freeze
2 Â We had a walk this afternoon, just around town. There are masses of beautiful hanging baskets and window boxes all over the place. I love this entrance to St Rumon’s Gardens.
Flowers outside St Rumon’s Gardens
We had only one jar of Marmalade left so had to make it now or not for several weeks. We made 5 lbs each – mine just plain Seville Orange and Mr S’s Orange and Mandarin, all from fruit frozen away last February. The tiny, one serving, jars are for my breakfast in bed in my first week of recovery!
Marmalade marathon
Crocosmia, Creature and A Duck
The Crocosmia is looking glorious agains the blue sky.
Crocosmia
I found this creature on the  Passionflower plant and liked how its antennae echo the curly tendrils of the plant.
Need to find out what this is
We haven’t been to sit in the back since the children left and discovered Littlest Live-wire’s yellow duck in the dove cote!
Duckling in a dovecote
St Euny Church in Redruth
We walked around the Churchyard today and visited inside the Church for the first time. The stained glass on the door, done by Julie Shedd,  was just lovely and the beautiful railings around the bell tower were made by a blacksmith called Lisa Harrison who trades as Smythick Forge. It was such a pleasure and a surprise to find such beautiful modern art work inside the Church. The doors are so welcoming to those entering the Church and so perfect for the Mining Church of Redruth.
Stained glass window by Julie Shedd
Part of the gates made by Lisa Harrison.
A gravestone
Haberdashery, Embroidery Hoop and Truro Cathedral
I’m lining up creative things to do for my recovery time after my next hip op next week. I have new wool and a whole bunch of pretty ribbons as well as some colourful star shaped buttons for one of my projects.
A myriad of pretty ribbons
A pot full of colourful buttons
Here is my new embroidery hoop for another of my projects.
8″ embroidery hoop
Truro Cathedral is always beautiful, even in the constant downpour that we have had today.
Truro Cathedral from the top of the Moorfield car-park
Sailing, Red Arrows and Fish’n’chips
Here are the photos of a perfect day – sailing with friends to The Helford River in our boat, Skippalong, anchoring for lunch, sailing back in time to watch the spectacular Red Arrows display and ending the day with a fish’n’chip supper.A perfect antidote to all the family leaving – spirits well lifted!
View from our boat, Skippalong
Fishing in peaceful waters
Fisherman and gulls in The Helford River
In The Helford River
Sue on board
Red sails
Swimming off the boat as they wait for the Red Arrows to start their display
The Red Arrows
Red Arrows
Watching the Red Arrows
Red Arrows
Red Arrows Heart
Photographer for the Water Polo Match
Jumping in to play water polo
The match begins
I’ll add the gallery tomorrow – the sea air has exhausted me!
