We’ve been up to Exeter today to meet Daughters 1 and 3 and LiveWire No 4 for a couple of hours of joy. We had a brief walk in Rougemont Gardens and then lunch before a little book shopping and all on our way. All too brief. I had been saving a special 50p piece for LiveWire B, one of the Peter Rabbit issue, and here it is in her little hand.
Peter Rabbit
Rougemont Gardens was new to us and deserves more time on our next visit. The gate is gorgeous, there were lots of Spring flowers and the Tower looks as if we need to explore some more.
Beautiful gate to Rougemont Gardens
Tower
On the way to our lunch we came across an interesting mural.
Mural
I have published the next instalment of Suffragette Diary to be found by clicking on the red link. If you haven’t read any of it yet, please do. It is the transcript of a real Diary that I found among my Father’s things. It describes the treatment of women in Holloway Jail who were there because they had broken windows ‘for the cause’, that of gaining the Vote for women. I have transcribed it to coincide with the Centenary of some women gaining the Vote in 1918. It is a very moving read and shows the courage of those women to whom we owe so much.
We are enjoying the birds at the feeders. They don’t seem to be put off by the constant mizzle and wind. I took this photo on a long zoom from inside the kitchen.
Two male Bullfinches
I lent some books to a singing friend the other days and had to remove some lovely dried leaves from one of the. I’m not sure where I collected them!
Leaves
I have just finished reading ‘Truly, Madly,Guilty’ by Liane Moriarty and my goodness, it was a page turner. I was even glad of the rotten weather so that I could sit and turn pages! Another one for you, J, as soon as you want it.
A cracking good read
The next part of Suffragette Diary has been posted.
In a neighbour’s garden we saw more signs of Spring, Hellebores, delicate and lovely.
Hellebore flower
I discovered another poem that appealed to me today – the last two lines sum up the way I ‘look about me and about me without end’ finding the beautiful things that are all around us.
THE WORLD’S A MINEFIELD
—Iain Crichton Smith
The world’s a minefield when I think of you. I must walk carefully in case I touch some irretrievable and secret switch that blows the old world back into the new.
How careless I once was about this ground with the negligence of ignorance. Now I take the smallest delicate steps and now I look about me and about me without end.
You may remember that I sent some SallyBoots to Germany a couple of weeks ago for our new Grand Niece. Today we received a photo of her looking lovely in her new boots.
We had the shortest walk today in the gathering gloom, just around the block but Lovers’ Lane looked lovely despite, or maybe because of, the mistiness.
Lovers’ Lane
A splash of purple caught my eye on our return and, yes, there was another sign of Spring, the first Iris Reticulata in flower.
Iris Reticulata
I came across this charming poem this afternoon and though there has been no hail today, the poem certainly catches the essence of the hailstorm I drove through last Thursday on my way to singing. You can imagine the noise on the top of my very old and much loved little soft top Beetle – a ‘storm of hornets’ indeed!
Hailstorm – Kay Ryan
Like a storm of hornets, the little white planets layer and relayer as they whip around in their high orbits, getting more and more dense before they crash against our crust. A maelstrom of ferocious little fists and punches, so hard to believe once it’s past.
The sun has been shining today, shafts coming through the vine next door and lighting up the leaves.
Sunshine on leaves
Our walk was lovely today, very cold on our faces but apricity on our backs and then the reverse on our way up from town. Another shaft of sunlight lit up a Celandine along Lovers’ Lane.
Celandine
We had Daffodils flowering in the front garden but the wild winds have beaten several of them to the ground so I cut them and brought them indoors to be appreciated.
Daffodils
I have published the next episode of Suffragette Diary . Here is the link
Do have a look. The episodes, handwritten by an unknown Suffragette, will follow day by day, transcribed as they were written, finishing on 6th February, the Centenary of (some) women gaining the vote.
This poem came my way recently and struck me as a very positive and lovely way to celebrate sleeplessness. Oh, the ‘bliss of being alive.’ This poem is for my SIL, V, and my dear friends M and J and I am sure, many more of my dear Readers will appreciate it too.
Bliss – May Sarton
In the middle of the night, My bedroom washed in moonlight And outside The faint hush-hushing Of an ebbing tide, I see Venus Close to The waning moon. I hear the bubbling hoot Of a playful owl. Pierrot’s purrs Ripple under my hand, And all this is bathed In the scent of roses By my bed Where there are always Books and flowers.
In the middle of the night The bliss of being alive!
As it is almost the Centenary of (some) women first getting the vote in Britain, I am republishing the Suffragette Diary, a copy of which I found in my late Father’s papers. I will let you know as soon as it goes live.
My facsimile scarf given to me by my Mum
Walking into town today, a neighbour’s gates were open and I spotted their wonderful, quirky reindeer in the front garden. Aren’t they a delight?
Today’s relentless rain stopped at about 3.30pm and we set off for our walk around the back onto The Flat Lode Trail. We are so lucky being able to leave the house and within moments are away from houses and up along the track. I was amused by the face on the stone – hope you can make it out too.
Stone face
I love the raindrops on the Heather.
Raindrops on Heather
There are camellias in flower all round the neighbourhood. My favourites are the white ones.
We can feel the Spring arriving! There was a beautiful golden dawn this morning and tonight, at 5pm, I drove to choir in day light for the first time for many weeks.
Dawn from the back bedroom
We have Snowdrops in our garden.
Snowdrops
Our walk today was along Cliff Road, by Gylly Beach and through the park. It was 10C and the wind had dropped.
From Gylly Beach across to St Anthony Head Lighthouse