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Tag Archives: Jeremy Beswick artist

A Family, Monkeys, A Special Meal and A Recipe

On our walk today, we were overtaken by a young family that we know, all out on their bikes, the littles one being towed. They were off to do the whole Great Flat Lode. We walk just a small section. It isn’t flat, by the way. This section is quite a steep hill.

In between showers, we have managed to plant up the Monkey planter and it looks lovely against the newly painted wall, which is cream rather than white but looks white in the photo. A local artist, Jeremy Beswick, made this precious basket for me many years ago.

We are ‘going out’ for dinner again tonight, collecting a Confit Duck meal from The Royal Oak in Perranwell. Here is this week’s menu.

I have put the recipe for Strawberry Freezer Jam on my recipe pages today.  It’s very easy and totally scrumptious.

 

 

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Kindness, Daffodils and Another Poem

Our lovely neighbour was in China last year and brought us back a beautiful picture of the character which means kindness. We had it framed before Christmas but have only just put it up. What a lovely piece – thank you, S.

The Tete a Tete in the Three Wise Monkeys planter are looking bright and sunny despite the wild weather.

I have posted this poem before but it seems to me that in today’s world we all need kindness, for ourselves and for others. I love how the poet captures that awful sinking moment when you think something is lost, those moments when you can’t quite believe that the rest of the world is going on as normal, those moments when something in the news just takes your breath away but kindness from a loved one or from a stranger can make your  day work again.

Kindness by Naomi Shibab Nye

Before you know what kindness really is
you must lose things,
feel the future dissolve in a moment
like salt in a weakened broth.
What you held in your hand,
what you counted and carefully saved,
all this must go so you know
how desolate the landscape can be
between the regions of kindness.
How you ride and ride
thinking the bus will never stop,
the passengers eating maize and chicken
will stare out the window forever.
Before you learn the tender gravity of kindness,
you must travel where the Indian in a white poncho
lies dead by the side of the road.
You must see how this could be you,
how he too was someone
who journeyed through the night with plans
and the simple breath that kept him alive.
Before you know kindness as the deepest thing inside,
you must know sorrow as the other deepest thing. 
You must wake up with sorrow.
You must speak to it till your voice
catches the thread of all sorrows
and you see the size of the cloth.
Then it is only kindness that makes sense anymore,
only kindness that ties your shoes
and sends you out into the day to mail letters and purchase bread,
only kindness that raises its head
from the crowd of the world to say
it is I you have been looking for,
and then goes with you everywhere
like a shadow or a friend.

 
 

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Daffodils for St David’s Day, News and A Poem

Happy St David’s Day to my friends and family.

Mini Daffodils for St David’s Day being blown about in the breeze

I am so excited! I have, this afternoon, taken eight of my glass pieces to The Craft Collective where they are now on display  and for sale!  I will show you a photo tomorrow when I visit the shop and try to be cool!

The Welshman, Dylan Thomas, is one of my favourite poets. Here is ‘Fern Hill’, a particular favourite.

Now as I was young and easy under the apple boughs
About the lilting house and happy as the grass was green,
     The night above the dingle starry,
          Time let me hail and climb
     Golden in the heydays of his eyes,
And honoured among wagons I was prince of the apple towns
And once below a time I lordly had the trees and leaves
          Trail with daisies and barley
     Down the rivers of the windfall light.

And as I was green and carefree, famous among the barns
About the happy yard and singing as the farm was home,
     In the sun that is young once only,
          Time let me play and be 
     Golden in the mercy of his means,
And green and golden I was huntsman and herdsman, the calves
Sang to my horn, the foxes on the hills barked clear and cold,
          And the sabbath rang slowly
     In the pebbles of the holy streams.

All the sun long it was running, it was lovely, the hay
Fields high as the house, the tunes from the chimneys, it was air
     And playing, lovely and watery
          And fire green as grass.
     And nightly under the simple stars
As I rode to sleep the owls were bearing the farm away,
All the moon long I heard, blessed among stables, the nightjars
     Flying with the ricks, and the horses
          Flashing into the dark.

And then to awake, and the farm, like a wanderer white
With the dew, come back, the cock on his shoulder: it was all
     Shining, it was Adam and maiden,
          The sky gathered again
     And the sun grew round that very day.
So it must have been after the birth of the simple light
In the first, spinning place, the spellbound horses walking warm
     Out of the whinnying green stable
          On to the fields of praise.

And honoured among foxes and pheasants by the gay house
Under the new made clouds and happy as the heart was long,
     In the sun born over and over,
          I ran my heedless ways,
     My wishes raced through the house high hay
And nothing I cared, at my sky blue trades, that time allows
In all his tuneful turning so few and such morning songs
     Before the children green and golden
          Follow him out of grace,

Nothing I cared, in the lamb white days, that time would take me
Up to the swallow thronged loft by the shadow of my hand,
     In the moon that is always rising,
          Nor that riding to sleep
     I should hear him fly with the high fields
And wake to the farm forever fled from the childless land.
Oh as I was young and easy in the mercy of his means,
          Time held me green and dying
     Though I sang in my chains like the sea
 
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Posted by on March 1, 2019 in Photography, poetry, Postaday 2019

 

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Castle, Monkeys and John Clare

Walking home from town today, we suddenly caught an unusual view of Carn Brea Castle from just near our house.

Carn Brea Castle

Our Three Wise Monkeys are now in charge of a floriferous Begonia which was yellow when we bought it, changed to pink soon after and is now this lovely peachy colour.

Begonia

This morning on Radio 4, I heard this beautiful poem by John Clare being read but I missed the introduction so don’t know why it was chosen.  The summer has not been ‘beaming forth’ today as temperatures have plunged from 30C to 15C and the skies have stayed grey though the last many weeks past, we have had the most glorious sunshine.

Sonnet by John Clare

I love to see the summer beaming forth
And white wool sack clouds sailing to the north
I love to see the wild flowers come again
And mare blobs stain with gold the meadow drain
And water lillies whiten on the floods
Where reed clumps rustle like a wind shook wood
Where from her hiding place the Moor Hen pushes
And seeks her flag nest floating in bull rushes
I like the willow leaning half way o’er
The clear deep lake to stand upon its shore
I love the hay grass when the flower head swings
To summer winds and insects happy wings
That sport about the meadow the bright day
And see bright beetles in the clear lake play

Looking it up, I discovered that ‘mare blobs’ are marigolds – what a delightful name!

 

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St Ives, Baka Beyond and Spring Bulbs

St Ives is beautiful what ever the weather or the time of day. It was raining last night but that special light that drew artists to the town was still evident.

St Ives in the rain 7pm

St Ives in the rain 7pm

Same view at night

Same view at night

Baka Beyond were wonderful – we danced all night! It was a great delight to meet up again with Ayodele Scott, the percussionist who is a friend of our son.

Baka Beyond

Baka Beyond

I have planted bulbs today, Tete à Tete and Muscari in tubs and in our beautiful Three Wise Monkeys planter, made by the very talented Jeremy Beswick. We have to wait 6 months for them to be in flower…….

Living in hope!

Living in hope!

 
 

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Feather, Nasturtium and Warm Summer Sun

Early this morning, the sun was already warming up and I walked around the garden feeling peaceful. A feather had become caught among the Lobelias in the window box.

Window box

Window box

2       A couple of Nasturtiums have opened today in the sunshine.

Monkey planter with Nasturtiums and Lobelia

Monkey planter byJ Beswick with Nasturtiums and Lobelia

3       Mark Twain’s brief poem seems just right for today.

Warm Summer Sun 

Warm summer sun,
    Shine kindly here,
Warm southern wind,
    Blow softly here.
Green sod above,
    Lie light, lie light.
Good night, dear heart,
    Good night, good night.
 

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Reflection, Shadow and Primrose

Don’s blog, read early this morning, touched a chord and even before my breakfast I had spotted three beautiful things!

1  The sun catching a beautiful piece of green glass that was my Granny’s and throwing light onto the window edge.

Reflected sunlight

Reflected sunlight

2   Those of you who know my copper Monkey Planter, made by Jeremy Beswick, will recognise this shadow thrown by the early morning sunshine.

Monkey shadow

Monkey shadow

3   A fallen Primrose with its soft furry stem lies on the stone wall.

Primrose

Primrose

P.S. I love the serendipity of the colour tones that sometimes happen in my posts. It happened yesterday and it has again today. There is no artifice in this! It truly is serendipty – I don’t even notice it until I look at the preview and then it pleases me – another beautiful thing!

 

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