A busy day – Truro early in the rain and then to St Euny Church to meet with the Welsh Choir for our concert and a pot luck shared meal. More in tomorrow’s post.
A delicate white feather became caught on the seed pods of a Crocosmia.
Lady Betty Balfour Clematis is one of my favourites. It is flowering rather early this year as it is supposed to bloom in September.
A number of The Ingleheart Singers have been to meet the two Welsh choirs who are visiting us from Port Talbot for our Grand Annual Concert tomorrow. As I was leaving the car park of their hotel, I noticed the sunset reflection in their coach window above the magnificent Welsh Dragon.
Last night’s sunset was lovely and peachy and reflected in my car window.
Our lovely neighbour came in for supper tonight and after Caponata with Chicken, I served up Eton mess in a beautiful pale blue glass bowl that was my Granny’s. It was a Wedding present for her and Grandpa in June 1913! Isn’t it amazing that this glass bowl is still in use 105 years later? I just love that she used it, my Mum always served the Christmas Sherry Trifle in this bowl and now I, too, can use it and I love it.
Eton mess is a traditional English dessert consisting of a mixture of strawberries, broken meringue, and whipped double cream. First mentioned in print in 1893, it is commonly believed to originate from EtonCollege and is served at the annual cricket match against the pupils of Harrow School. As the lovely Mr S says, the boys from Eton are still making a mess.
Breakfast outside again and the birds are become used to us so still come to the feeders.
Our Suffragette Garden now has Purple Clematis and white Japanese Anemones.
Supper in Porthtowan and the evening sky was lovely.
It rained overnight and left our garden covered in diamonds. My turn to make the tea, I was down very early and went out in my pjs to take these photos. As soon as the sun came up the diamonds disappeared.
It was the Web between the Agapanthus buds that first caught my eye.
Next, I noticed the Nasturtiums, themselves already jewel coloured and then embellished with diamond drops.
And then the Millet, encrusted with the same shiny beauties.
I was very glad to have been the early bird this morning, starting my day with such soul-pleasing beauty.
As we listen to the news around the world of wars and oppression, a poem I read once by Imtiaz Dharker came to mind, “The Right Word” and I thought again as I have before of how important the ‘right word’ is. The women fighting for the vote a hundred years ago, including my Great Granny, were sometimes described as terrorists. Imtiaz Dharker puts her finger on it perfectly here as she so often does and makes me think of the children who are sometimes used in wars.
The Right Word
Outside the door,
lurking in the shadows,
is a terrorist.
Is that the wrong description?
Outside that door,
taking shelter in the shadows,
is a freedom fighter.
I haven’t got this right .
Outside, waiting in the shadows,
is a hostile militant.
Are words no more
than waving, wavering flags?
Outside your door,
watchful in the shadows,
is a guerrilla warrior.
God help me.
Outside, defying every shadow,
stands a martyr.
I saw his face.
No words can help me now.
Just outside the door,
lost in shadows,
is a child who looks like mine.
One word for you.
Outside my door,
his hand too steady,
his eyes too hard
is a boy who looks like your son, too.
I open the door.
Come in, I say.
Come in and eat with us.
The child steps in
and carefully, at my door,
takes off his shoes.
I love the dappled sunlight that scatters its glow around our Cornish lanes.
Walking back from our rehearsal at St Euny Church tonight, we were accompanied by this pretty cat who wouldn’t keep still for a photo!