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Category Archives: Photography

Lunch, Rain and Fat Books

Today I met a friend for lunch for the first time in three years! It was so lovely to spend time together again after so long. We went to a delightful cafe, tucked away down Cornish lanes where we could sit outside in the sunshine.

It rained really hard all afternoon.

I love this! I have so many fat books that are full of memories of the times when I read them, when a friend read them or when my Mum read them – and some that really are full of pressed flowers and leaves.

 

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Planting, Spring Flowers and Baking

LiveWire No 2 spent the morning at the allotment with us being very helpful indeed – in the photo watering the broad beans he has just carefully planted.

On the way back home we spotted this pretty accidental planting under a hedge.

LiveWire No 4 arrives tomorrow (as do 5 and 6!) and it was just her birthday so this afternoon, LiveWire No 3 and I have baked a Chocolate Fudge cake to be the birthday cake.

T stirring the butter and chocolate mixture

Pouring the batter into the cake tins, photo by T, LiveWire no 3

 

Arrival, Irises and Peace

Our London LiveWires have arrived this afternoon to be joined by their cousins, Aunts and Uncles on Wednesday for  four days of family fun.

We all walked down to the allotment to check on any watering that was needed and found the irises that I showed you a couple of days ago in bud, fully open and lovely.

Born on this day in New Jersey in 1898, Paul Robeson was a singer, actor and activist who used his platform to speak up for justice.
Over the years, he lent his support for a variety of movements: from the Republican cause in Civil War Spain to the American Civil Rights Movement. I grew up listening to his singing and have written about him here before.This quotation seems very apt for the moment.

 

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Sunset, Spires and Ice Cream Cones

We spent a very happy hour with the Mac technician in Truro who solved all the problems with our laptop and all with patience and good humour. So now, here is the sunset photo I wanted to show you yesterday. It’s a bit fuzzy, taken through the window, but you get the very dramatic fieriness.

Today the sky was blue and walking around Truro again after many months, was a joy. Here are the spires of the Cathedral.

 

There was a delightful window display in one of my favourite shops –

 

Suffragette Garden, Ingredients and Cake

One side of our front garden is full of yellows, pinks, white and green – all bright Spring flowers. The other side is my Suffragette Garden – all purple, white and green in honour of my Great Granny, Mrs Wiseman.

This week’s Feast supplement in the Guardian on Saturday had a recipe on the Rachel Roddy’s Tales from an Italian Kitchen page that I just had to try . Here are the ingredients should you wish to put them together ready!

Here are the first two slices…….  Absolutely delicious!.

Sponge Cake with a Heart of Lemon Custard – Rachel Roddy

 
 

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Singing, Spring and Sunflowers, A Poem

We learned a new piece at choir yesterday and it was so joyful, I thought you might like to hear it. The music is by Mozart.

Our Spring border lifts the spirits.

Mike Harding published this poem on Facebook yesterday and I asked if I could share it here to which he replied, “Yes, of course.” So, here it is, not really feeling like a rough draft to me.  I posted a story about Ukraine and sunflowers a couple of weeks ago,Click this link to read it.
“The first, very rough draft of a new poem
Sunflowers
A shaky phone-cam filmed it all and so
The whole world sees a peasant woman finding
Strangers in her land do what peasants always do
For strangers as she ignores the guns and stands
Four square and strong and offers them a gift,
Those soldiers with their guns and bandoliers,
Grenades and wire cutters, their killing knives.
Their helmets and their gibbering headsets.
She holds out to them her gift: handfuls
Fistfuls of sunflower seeds, little pods of grace
And welcome. It is the way with peasant people
Everywhere, even in this day of days,
For those who have the least will always give the most.
But the seeds came wrapped in words,
These words,
“Keep them in your pockets boys so, when we bury
You in Ukraine’s soil, sunflowers will climb from
Your graves toward the blue sky of the truth:
Here take them, they are good, I harvested them last year.
Take them so that the flowers will be a monument to
The murdered children and the families
You bombed out of their homes; the flowers
Will stretch their golden faces to the sky
And in the night the flowers will whisper
Softly to the wind, ‘Here lie the murderers
That came out of the East, unwelcome and unwanted,
Destroyers of beauty, carriers of madness,
Cursed for all eternity.’
The fields of flowers will drop their seeds
Each year so that those to come will understand
Their stories, stronger than granite,
More beautiful than marble,
These sunflowers will tell the world
How your young lives were wasted here
On our rich soil made richer by your bones
And flesh, and your own mothers will come
Throughout the empty years
To water with their salty tears
The endless fields of flower heads,
Golden, turning in the sun.”
 

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Leeks, Butterfly and Chopin

I’m loving that we are still harvesting leeks from the allotment.

The lovely Mr S spotted a butterfly on the windowsill and caught this photo for me.

 

Heartbreakingly beautiful…… professional pianist Irina Maniukina playing Chopin (Aeolian Harp’ Étude, Op. 25, # 1) before finally leaving her home south of Kyiv.

 

 

https://fb.watch/bMLM02Sj9A/

 

 

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Sea, Staircases and Grand Mothers

After singing today at the Eco Park, I turned right rather than going straight home and went to see the sea, to smell the sea and to get the sea air into my lungs. It was glorious!

Porthtowan

I read about the staircases in Lima today.  Peruvian artist Xomatok worked with community members to transform the hills of Lima, Peru’s Alisos de Amauta neighborhood with 13 staircases filled with patterns inspired by traditional Andean textiles. Aren’t they gorgeous? I’m glad I don’t have to climb them though!

Staircase in Lima

 

I think this poem by Alice Walker is speaking to all us Grandmothers right now

Calling All Grandmothers – a poem by Alice Walker
We have to live
differently.
or we
will die
in the same
old ways.
Therefore
I call on all Grand Mothers
everywhere
on the planet
to rise
and take your place
in the leadership
of the world.
Come out
of the kitchen
out of the
fields
out of the beauty parlors
out of the television
Step forward
and assume
the role
for which
you were
created:
to lead humanity
to health, happiness
and sanity.
I call on
all the
Grand Mothers
of Earth
and every person
who possesses
the Grand Mother
Spirit
of respect for
life
and
protection of
the young
to rise
and lead.
The life of
our species
depends
on it.
& I call on all men
of Earth
to gracefully
and
gratefully
stand aside
& let them
(let us)
do so.

 

 

Knitting, Narcissi and A Poem

Our niece had a baby recently so I’ve made some Sally-boots for our Grand niece, her big brother having had some a couple of years ago.

Yesterday’s wild wind blew some of our front garden narcissi off their stalks.

The poet laureate, Simon Armitage has written about the Ukraine invasion. The link is an article in The Guardian about him.

 

Resistance
It’s war again: a family
carries its family out of a pranged house
under a burning thatch.

The next scene smacks
of archive newsreel: platforms and trains
(never again, never again),

toddlers passed
over heads and shoulders, lifetimes stowed
in luggage racks.

It’s war again: unmistakable smoke
on the near horizon mistaken
for thick fog. Fingers crossed.

An old blue tractor
tows an armoured tank
into no-man’s land.

It’s the ceasefire hour: godspeed the columns
of winter coats and fur-lined hoods,
the high-wire walk

over buckled bridges
managing cases and bags,
balancing west and east – godspeed.

It’s war again: the woman in black
gives sunflower seeds to the soldier, insists
his marrow will nourish

the national flower. In dreams
let bullets be birds, let cluster bombs
burst into flocks.

False news is news
with the pity
edited out. It’s war again:

an air-raid siren can’t fully mute
the cathedral bells –
let’s call that hope.

Simon Armitage

 

 

 

 

 
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Posted by on March 13, 2022 in craft, nature, Peace, Photography, poetry

 

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Spring Posy, Music and Street Art

I visited friends this afternoon and took a little posy of Spring flowers picked from our front garden.

Music restores the soul.

 

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