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Monthly Archives: February 2018

The Promised Snow Arrived…….

The snow starts

A Robin stops off before going to the feeders

It’s thick snow!

Poor little Tete a Tete flowers – hope they recover when things warm up.

Welly dog has become Snowdog

And now the sky is blue over next-door’s roof – but there is more snow to come….

So it has been an indoor day. The temperature was -3C most of the day with the wind chill taking it down to -11C!

 

Key Colours, Peace Lily and Vegan Baking

The sun came through the coloured glass of our back door early this morning and threw the shadow of the key into the colours on the wall.

Key shadow in colours

The low early morning sun also shone through the Peace Lily flower.

Peace Lily flower

I’ve had a lovely afternoon baking new vegan recipes for a party that may happen tomorrow or may be postponed if the promise of lots of snow transpires! Both will freeze so will keep safely until we do manage to celebrate together. We have sampled them both and they are delicious!

I’ll put the recipes for both, with my adaptations, on my Recipes page at the weekend.

 
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Posted by on February 27, 2018 in Beauty, Food, nature, Photography, Postaday2018

 

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Walk Round Lovers’ Lane

I was looking for colour on a brisk walk around Lovers’ Lane this afternoon in bitter cold and with snow in the forecast. Some sprinkles fell! Can you spot them?

 
 

Crocuses, Sunset and A Poem

Some Crocuses have popped up on the opposite side of the garden from our Suffragette garden which is a pleasant surprise.

Purple and white among the green

It has been a bitterly cold and beautifully bright day so we headed out to see the sunset.

Sunset over St Ives from Godrevy

A new poem came my way a couple of days ago and I share it here – Wait by Galway Kinnell. The lines that drew me to it especially were those about pain.  Wait long enough and everything will become interesting again.

Wait – Galway  Kinnell

Wait, for now.
Distrust everything if you have to.
But trust the hours. Haven’t they
carried you everywhere, up to now?
Personal events will become interesting again.
Hair will become interesting.
Pain will become interesting.
Buds that open out of season will become interesting.
Second-hand gloves will become lovely again;
their memories are what give them
the need for other hands. The desolation
of lovers is the same: that enormous emptiness
carved out of such tiny beings as we are
asks to be filled; the need
for the new love is faithfulness to the old.

Wait.
Don’t go too early.
You’re tired. But everyone’s tired.
But no one is tired enough.
Only wait a little and listen:
music of hair,
music of pain,
music of looms weaving our loves again.
Be there to hear it, it will be the only time,
most of all to hear your whole existence,
rehearsed by the sorrows, play itself into total exhaustion.

Readers who follow these posts will know that ten days ago I had a steroid injection in both ankles to, hopefully, dissipate the pain therein. For four days I walked on sunshine. Now, things are somewhat better but not the bliss I first experienced, sadly.

 

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Friendship, Manderley and Tete a Tete

Some months ago, I had an accident with a glass of red, making our sitting room look as if a grisly event had taken place there. The insurance people were brilliant and we have a new carpet. Rather than the fitters taking away the whole ruined carpet, they cut out the long red section and left us with two large pieces of beautiful cream carpet to give away. Today we delivered the pieces to a Humanist friend and on her wall was the following little plaque which I liked very much.

Friends are crucial to our well being

In the bookshop in Truro, there is a new mural celebrating Manderley, the fictional estate of the character Maxim de Winter which plays a central part in Daphne du Maurier‘s 1938 novel, Rebecca,

Manderley

The little Tete a Tetes in our small wall garden are so lovely, especially against the cerulean sky.

Tete a Tete against a cold blue sky

 

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St Ives, Happy Dogs and A Robin

The tide was in when we arrived in St Ives, the sea being whipped into white horses.

St Ives – tide in

I loved the poetry pillars in Tate St Ives.

Poem in The Tate Gallery

We always love watching dogs playing on the beach. These two were racing about and I’m pleased that my photo caught their sandy splashes and their reflection.

Dogs dashing through the waves

By the time we had visited Tate St Ives and were on our way back to the train, the tide was well out.

St Ives – tide out

A very friendly Robin was sheltering from the bitter wind in the shelter on the platform as were many of those waiting for the train.

Robin by my feet in the shelter on the station

 

 

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Stillness, Supper and A Poem

The Penryn River was so still this morning while we were singing.

Penryn River

Supper this evening is a rainbow of roasted vegetables which will be served on a bed of glossy green lentils.

Vegetables ready for roasting

A  lovely and quite sad poem came my way the other day, ‘After a While’ by Veronica A Shoffstall, about whom I can find out very little. If any reader can help, please comment below. I think she must’ve had a hard life with too many goodbyes though she ends up strong and resolute.

After a While by Veronica A Shoffstall

 

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