Category Archives: Penryn
By the time we had finished singing in Penryn this morning, the tide had gone right out so I was very glad that a fellow singer encouraged me to ‘Seize the moment!’ when I spotted this lovely colourful reflection.
As we were leaving our fabulous singing session, we were chatting at the junction when a window box went by, stopping long enough at the traffic lights for me to catch a picture. It was delightful to see the little dog in the window once I had uploaded the photo.
The lovely Mr S and I went back to Penryn this afternoon to take the cushions out of the boat for its winter storage. While in the boatyard, I met a ship’s cat, Pearl, just 15 weeks old, who has just learned how to go up and down the ladder.
A bonus for you! Today is National Poetry Day. The theme is choice and on the National Poetry Day website I found a poem by one of my favourite poets whose work I have shared here before. A short extract was read on the radio this morning and I was delighted to find it ‘with kind permission of the poet’ allowing it to be shared. The last few lines particularly resonated with me. Do click on the link – there are many more poems for you there.
I may raise my child in this man’s house
or that man’s love,
warm her on this one’s smile, wean
her to that one’s wit,
praise or blame at a chosen moment,
in a considered way, say
yes or no, true, false, tomorrow
not today. . .
Finally, who will she be
when the choices are made,
when the choosers are dead,
and of the men I love, the teeth are left
chattering with me underground?
just the sum of me
and this or that
Who can she be but, helplessly,
Some day your head won’t find my lap
so easily. Trust is a habit you’ll soon break.
Once, stroking a kitten’s head
through a haze of fur, I was afraid
of my own hand big and strong and quivering
with the urge to crush.
Here, in the neck’s strong curve, the cradling arm,
love leers close to violence.
Your head too fragile, child,
under a mist of hair.
Home is this space in my lap, till the body reforms,
tissues stretch, flesh turns firm.
Your kitten-bones will harden,
grow away from me, till you and I are sure
we are both safe.
I spent years hiding from your face,
the weight of your arms, warmth
of your breath. Through feverish nights,
dreaming of you, the watchdogs of virtue
and obedience crouched on my chest. ‘Shake
them off,’ I told myself, and did. Wallowed
in small perversities, celebrated as they came
of age, matured to sins.
I call this freedom now,
watch the word cavort luxuriously, strut
my independence across whole continents
of sheets. But turning from the grasp
of arms, the rasp of breath,
to look through darkened windows at the night,
Mother, I find you staring back at me.
When did my body agree
to wear your face?
© Imtiaz Dharker, from Postcards from god (Bloodaxe Books, 1997)
With kind permission of the poet
Tonight we have had Leftovers Pie – chicken bits from the roast earlier this week with two chopped up vegan sausages all in a sauce made by whizzing up leftover cauliflower cheese and all covered with a puff pastry lid that had been frozen since I last made pies. We served the pie with Runner Beans harvested this afternoon at the allotment. We treated ourselves last night to a special dinner at our local hotel, The Penventon, and tonight’s frugality made up for that!
The Kalettes are flowering and make a pretty vase-full. They taste good too if caught before the flowers open so that they are like Purple Sprouting Broccoli.
I love this poem. It sums up my blog for me – ordinary things being just perfect.
We drew the curtains to find a beautiful rainbow this morning. The house across the street must be full of the crock of gold as the rainbow ends in their chimney. It wasn’t until I put the photo on the computer that I saw the one red leaf left on the Copper Beech next door.
Walking through Penryn this morning in driving rain, I had to stop with the camera under the umbrella to take this photo of a very attractive front door.
A poem about Autumn for you, one that was in a poetry book I had as a child, about nine years old, another that I liked to make up a tune for so that I could sing it to myself. Certainly today we have had ‘great gales incessant’ and the ‘golden leaves’ have been scattered far and wide.
Autumn by Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
Thou comest, Autumn, heralded by the rain,
With banners, by great gales incessant fanned,
Brighter than brightest silks of Samarcand,
And stately oxen harnessed to thy wain!
Thou standest, like imperial Charlemagne,
Upon thy bridge of gold; thy royal hand
Outstretched with benedictions o’er the land,
Blessing the farms through all thy vast domain!
Thy shield is the red harvest moon, suspended
So long beneath the heaven’s o’erhanging eaves;
Thy steps are by the farmer’s prayers attended;
Like flames upon an altar shine the sheaves;
And, following thee, in thy ovation splendid,
Thine almoner, the wind, scatters the golden leaves!
The rains have been incessant over much of the country and my heart goes out to all those who are flooded out of their homes around Doncaster where we used to live, in the villages of Fishlake and Bentley, Sykehouse and Arksey and now we hear in many more areas across the Midlands.
The mural outside one of my favourite shops, Just Delights, has recently been done for winter. The mural is changed each season and pleases me every time I drive through to choir. To find the others, put mural into the search.
After singing today, I did my shift in Fannie and Fox, the lovely gallery in Penryn where my glass now sells. It is a real pleasure to sit among so many beautiful things. Here are some for you to see.
Ark, do you recognise this tiny spider?
I treated us to Scallops from the fish shop (as well as hake for another evening.)
I bought myself some beautiful new earrings today from a lovely shop, Fannie and Fox, that I discovered on my walk through Penryn.