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Being Granny, A Poem and Wise Words

Our LiveWires have gone home and it is very quiet today. They had a good time as did we and I was very touched when T, LiveWire no 3 said, “I really want to be a Granny when I’m old enough. It’s fun being a Granny!” Yes, it is!

Climbing on Carn Brea

Swinging at Heartlands

This poem came my way today and touched a chord. I have a favourite walk that I take my mind on when I can’t sleep, around St Anthony Head. Happily, I need this less than when I was working and now , of course, we are close enough to do the walk for real. Then I was in South Yorkshire.

Association by Franz Wright

Dawns when I can’t sleep I walk,
in thought, all the way
around Walden.

My father loved Thoreau, I wish
he could have walked there
with me once,

my hungover Virgil. Lying in bed
with a big ax
lodged in my head, I still hear him

as if from the next room
bumping into things and cursing.
Give us this day, he mutters,

our daily stone. Nice.
Can’t blame him, though. This morning
can’t sleep for missing him.

 

It’s two years since our lovely neighbour, Bill Mitchell, died and he is missed and remembered with great love by so many. This description of grief from a child whose Grandfather had died, I found very touching.

Wisdom of a child

For newer readers, here is the post I wrote about Bill two years ago.

https://mybeautfulthings.com/2017/05/03/bill-mitchell-our-friend-next-door-2121951-1442017/

 

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