tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-280806032024-03-23T18:07:29.524+00:00Cats in the Kitchen, Flora in the GardenDaisy Lupinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13673588364228846859noreply@blogger.comBlogger154125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28080603.post-75974883040522066742007-06-17T15:52:00.000+01:002007-06-17T15:56:04.169+01:00I just wanted to thank you all so much for your messages.<br /><br />It is so nice to see how my mum touched you all, I read the comments with tears streaming down my face- this is a good thing though :)<br /><br />In a few days I do hope to email you all once things begin to settle down.<br /><br />Any emails you send to my mums address i will also read. My Dad, Brother and I really appreciate your messages, love and support. We will be printing all these off to keep hold of.<br /><br />Lydia<br />xxxDaisy Lupinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13673588364228846859noreply@blogger.com50tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28080603.post-57904056225741998132007-06-16T15:52:00.000+01:002007-06-16T15:54:02.093+01:00and just incase any of you were wondering.......I knew my mum's password. I set up her email account for her years ago and devised the password (I guessed it may be the same).<br /><br />Lydia<br />xxxDaisy Lupinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13673588364228846859noreply@blogger.com10tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28080603.post-61011742405962303232007-06-16T15:42:00.000+01:002007-06-16T15:52:18.388+01:00unfortunate happeningThis is Daisy's daughter Lydia writing.<br /><br />It is with much sadness that I inform you all that unfortunately my Mum passed away this morning.<br /><br />She has been ill throughout this week becoming increasing weak and confused by last night. Last night we had decided to get her into hospital this morning however this was too late as this morning I discovered her. My dad had been sleeping in a seperate room to enable her proper rest. We do not yet know the official cause of death. She has been taken away and most likely a post mortem will be carried out on Monday.<br /><br />She spoke of her blog to me often and the friends she had made through this. I really wanted to find a way to let you all know.<br /><br />If anybody would like to contact us please leave a comment and I'll give you my email address.<br /><br />Lots of love<br /><br />Lydia xxxDaisy Lupinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13673588364228846859noreply@blogger.com59tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28080603.post-41268846740936553912007-06-13T18:56:00.000+01:002007-06-13T18:57:21.712+01:00A VERY SHORT POSTING<span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"><strong>Just to let you know I am still around. Unfortunately, I have been in bed since Monday afternoon with a horrendous virus.. Pounding head, sore throat, aching muscles sore joints, chattering teeth with cold piling up duvet on me. The fever broke last night, complete change of bedding and nightie, twice plus the most horrendous dreams. My other half is looking after me, it will take me few weeks to build up my stength again. I will pick up on the Poety Fest at some time next week. Sorry too tired to write any more.</strong></span>Daisy Lupinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13673588364228846859noreply@blogger.com20tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28080603.post-71042999856054628982007-06-08T05:42:00.000+01:002007-06-08T18:42:04.424+01:00THE MIGHTY OAK</a><p align="left"><strong><span style="color:#339999;"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5073739804528597650" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEidS4VqHIyrJxZ3xfPuyI-qVepEcHc0Eg0QqXuHCpig9FjaSf3IKOpRTlpsskzfB7FIqTJykiX4J2RaYBs50fRR712B8Ecz5ECjdZJzIxZm6jHfVhH13b0Io2BTdrONM3x0vuRE/s400/oak.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><br />Before I begin, my computer screen has gone a rather unpleasant pink colour, so my colour values etc are distorted, so it is fingers crossed that my text and illustrations work as I can't see the true colours until my screen is sorted</span></strong><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEie3MHlrjXZDKLUXW88t-6BSIXM8_aS1cxs42wDTP1Cd5mlVu1gAJws1FTlOj8Xdn8Sizav5LjrSheP9OToUbYeuGo329ndi5PcZx3iM0oKB6Ho3t1TaozD6nZuY-3U7UFyQqYC/s1600-h/ansel+yes.bmp"><strong><span style="color:#339999;"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5073738387189389906" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEie3MHlrjXZDKLUXW88t-6BSIXM8_aS1cxs42wDTP1Cd5mlVu1gAJws1FTlOj8Xdn8Sizav5LjrSheP9OToUbYeuGo329ndi5PcZx3iM0oKB6Ho3t1TaozD6nZuY-3U7UFyQqYC/s400/ansel+yes.bmp" border="0" /></span></strong></a><strong><span style="color:#339999;"> <em>Ansel Adams<br /></em><br />On 10th June, the Celtic month changes again and this month will be the month of the Oak. A tree to me that is quintessentially English, phrases such as the <em>Mighty Oak, Hearts of Oak</em> and <em>From Little Acorns Great Oak Trees Grow</em>. The Oak has always protected England from time immemorial, it was the sacred tree of the Druids, they had their Oak Groves, and throughout history the boats that were used by the English Navy to defeat invaders to our isles were made from from slabs of the mighty Oak. The Armada was turned back by these ships crafted from English Oak. Therefore, from the 10th of June we have the 7th Moon of the Celtic Year, Duir, the Oak Tree. Duir meaning door.<br /><br /></span></strong><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgTiQgGXMuCFGTihoYe11irqih2elLz1muIVQWIMYhuGTZzKSiq3vVxNk_4rUmLzy8xsVWhKKCWeIxUKIGSm4qfnmEpbriwTVYwb9Mf2PrXGLefptXnbyl1TuQzVCV3KuLciBO_/s1600-h/herne.jpg"><strong><span style="color:#339999;"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5073741458091006626" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgTiQgGXMuCFGTihoYe11irqih2elLz1muIVQWIMYhuGTZzKSiq3vVxNk_4rUmLzy8xsVWhKKCWeIxUKIGSm4qfnmEpbriwTVYwb9Mf2PrXGLefptXnbyl1TuQzVCV3KuLciBO_/s400/herne.jpg" border="0" /></span></strong></a><strong><span style="color:#339999;"> <em>Herne</em><br /><br />The month of Duir, also contains the <em>Summer Solstice,</em> and of course, the symbol of the <em>Summer Solistice</em> is the magnificent Oak tree. Every civilisation that has had access to Oak trees seems to have realised the mystical properties of it. The Oak is one of the three most sacred trees, <em>Oak, Ash and Thorn</em> and is thereby known as <em>King of the Grove</em>. English legend believes that King Arthur's Round Table was made from a massive slab of Oak tree. The oak is allied to the element of Fire and is ruled by the Sun. It also has associations with the God of the Forest Herne and the Wild Hunt and the Oak or Green man who is a potent symbol in English folklore. It was an Oak tree that Robin Hood was supposed to gather his men round and an Oak tree in which King Charles is supposed to have hidden to avoid detection by the Roundheads. It is a very long lived tree and grows to enormous widths, therefore it is a symbol of long life. It is also associated with the Gods of Thunder and Lightning, due to its reputation as a lightning attractor. The bird connected to this Oak Month is the wren and the stone is moonstone.<br /><br /></span></strong><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhKmDOJ7EL_X_UorIaG7Rcvwck3lSPN-QuKmZyoEg7HQeI3S-XoKiTe5aPyeDX_CS5MQjl0r3tpi2c71ZLLUaoNzxD7nrWWaSHWiaag7P-M5S0QSyzrYZ57ESFk59NbhtZD-NlK/s1600-h/GreenManOakLeafLarge_prod.jpg"><strong><span style="color:#339999;"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5073738790916315746" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhKmDOJ7EL_X_UorIaG7Rcvwck3lSPN-QuKmZyoEg7HQeI3S-XoKiTe5aPyeDX_CS5MQjl0r3tpi2c71ZLLUaoNzxD7nrWWaSHWiaag7P-M5S0QSyzrYZ57ESFk59NbhtZD-NlK/s400/GreenManOakLeafLarge_prod.jpg" border="0" /></span></strong></a><strong><span style="color:#339999;"><br /> <em>The Green Man</em></span></strong><strong><span style="color:#339999;"><br /><br />The parts of the Oak used are the bark, wood, leaves, and acorns, which I will leave until last, as they are another interesting part of Oaklore. Oak bark tea is very astringent and is thought to be good for sinus infections. Oak can be used in spells of healing and fertilitiy, protection, strength and success. One belief is if you listen to the Oak at the <em>Summer Solstice</em> you can hear what the future holds by listening to the wind rustling through its leaves. Oakwood is a very powerful protection herb and are used as land boundary markers because of this. Also an Oakleaf worn next to your heart is said to protect the wearer from decption and falsehood. Try a handful of Oak leaves in your bath to cleanse you in body and spirit.<br /><br /></span></strong><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhYK5y-_RxNqW1Os8-RcxzS7YVqRyt7Xkv9xX204GSWg2g8WLyXi2v2caEG4GXaPsIlbGciG_ZQ7DpJy8sv3N-E-sBVxAmSTtPTz_pwchP1bpxeehB_mWNxuzx44uGAkB0FdEbY/s1600-h/acorns.jpg"><strong><span style="color:#339999;"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5073738176735992386" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhYK5y-_RxNqW1Os8-RcxzS7YVqRyt7Xkv9xX204GSWg2g8WLyXi2v2caEG4GXaPsIlbGciG_ZQ7DpJy8sv3N-E-sBVxAmSTtPTz_pwchP1bpxeehB_mWNxuzx44uGAkB0FdEbY/s400/acorns.jpg" border="0" /></span></strong></a><strong><span style="color:#339999;"><br /><br />Acorns, themselves are very useful and powerful small items. Acorns are said to be able to increase fertility, not just of the body but your creative fertility too. Play with a couple in your hand to ease pain or put some in your window or on your windowsill to deflect lightning and protect you from night creatures of evil intent. You can also carry them in your pocket for basically the same reasons, to protect from storms, from getting lost and from those spirits or people intent on ill wishes towards you. Three acorns threaded together can be made into a charm to preserve youthfulness and to help you achieve in life. You must thread a piece of your hair with the three acorns, and bless them every new moon and full moon, for twelve months. Acorns can also be planted in the dark moon days to bring financial rewards. You must harvest the Oak tree by the waning moon. The acorns in daylight and the wood and leaves at night. Don't forget that part of your <em>Summer Solistice</em> fire should be of Oak wood.<br /><br /></span></strong><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhFg1NqUkAIQ4JhczGcaC6sqQpDtqYfYDgRG3mXdok_mf_K9Vlp9y3Se5jdmXmpPglwySi_U7NAErM7GWb1VpIiGN4PtgBmtR67hasx7KVtiaFpfuacfLWOvw4kWBGuQJaSWpJS/s1600-h/mecury.bmp"><strong><span style="color:#339999;"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5073739117333830258" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhFg1NqUkAIQ4JhczGcaC6sqQpDtqYfYDgRG3mXdok_mf_K9Vlp9y3Se5jdmXmpPglwySi_U7NAErM7GWb1VpIiGN4PtgBmtR67hasx7KVtiaFpfuacfLWOvw4kWBGuQJaSWpJS/s400/mecury.bmp" border="0" /></span></strong></a><strong><span style="color:#339999;"> <em>Mercury<br /></em><br />Remember what I said about my computer at the beginning of this posting, well going round the blogs quite a few of us are having various problems with our computers at the moment. Dare I tell you, guess what it is? Yes, Mercury goes into retrograde in a few days time, so don't forget everyone be careful around items of communication. This retrograde Mercury will last from 15th June [with a build up from about ten days before that] until 10th July , but don't forget about the kickback effect that lingers on a while.<br /><br /></span></strong><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjfTAJE4BymQ00-i32ii2TBuB-zsg0cxbjuKtJQzna55kjs8WXVOZbUm0UvpjUX8h-RGBlVaGssEBr2L83liMHyAuoS1DyKfxd6SlhUjt-0OpGB5lZiRyB57VT05qqdX72uNnWu/s1600-h/wren.jpg"><strong><span style="color:#339999;"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5073743519675308722" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjfTAJE4BymQ00-i32ii2TBuB-zsg0cxbjuKtJQzna55kjs8WXVOZbUm0UvpjUX8h-RGBlVaGssEBr2L83liMHyAuoS1DyKfxd6SlhUjt-0OpGB5lZiRyB57VT05qqdX72uNnWu/s400/wren.jpg" border="0" /></span></strong></a><strong><span style="color:#339999;"> A Wren</span></strong></p><p><br /><strong><span style="color:#339999;">Keep having a look at my Poetry Fest Website, link near the top of my sidebar, poems are still coming in, and if you haven't participated yet there is still time for this month's <em>Poetry We Loved as Children</em>.</span></strong><br /><br /></p><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh_oHLpKKxizyIzvTDTii6i0ZB1Cok8jEe1VlKHGWbtP_-UXeCelLNDRX50GI6dLF9ERe2NNbUuEfug7l-bv-1k5Bh3028MCoWA9Lfo15HbgWFwgAf639Z0io89j1cD5ro0s9Ak/s1600-h/glorious.gif"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5073737571145603634" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh_oHLpKKxizyIzvTDTii6i0ZB1Cok8jEe1VlKHGWbtP_-UXeCelLNDRX50GI6dLF9ERe2NNbUuEfug7l-bv-1k5Bh3028MCoWA9Lfo15HbgWFwgAf639Z0io89j1cD5ro0s9Ak/s200/glorious.gif" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjLaRw1ZdjJPUznrc4Ogpm7g-36ERwoQqgJWbwc_yf6S49ISwZ2S3v9LHHxQnF7UuoMeYdm9h3fKyrGoLqEEVFYcJXKanhlWvdoYKWgx0G9XbERhGZA-DReCmqxHOwgLEPkH-dD/s1600-h/Paul-Cezanne-Still-Life-with-Curtain-and-Fruit-5460copy.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5073739701449382530" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjLaRw1ZdjJPUznrc4Ogpm7g-36ERwoQqgJWbwc_yf6S49ISwZ2S3v9LHHxQnF7UuoMeYdm9h3fKyrGoLqEEVFYcJXKanhlWvdoYKWgx0G9XbERhGZA-DReCmqxHOwgLEPkH-dD/s200/Paul-Cezanne-Still-Life-with-Curtain-and-Fruit-5460copy.jpg" border="0" /></a>Daisy Lupinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13673588364228846859noreply@blogger.com15tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28080603.post-59741711138833538902007-06-04T16:33:00.000+01:002007-06-05T01:26:33.780+01:00THE GOLDEN AGE OF CHILDHOOD?<p><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhMg1Pumrr-s6X6Sfw2T_NIGUfekhXztGHnw50yEqzXEc5wA6dZVkxPJEa5pWSxSW-pMBaasgAbDEViiLiz2OG8jzNN1-h07K4XOxSnixANsr3XpsM9dERuTtXGai3mPVH3LSqp/s1600-h/Lilies-Hassam-L.jpg"><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#006600;"><strong><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5072338079904017218" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhMg1Pumrr-s6X6Sfw2T_NIGUfekhXztGHnw50yEqzXEc5wA6dZVkxPJEa5pWSxSW-pMBaasgAbDEViiLiz2OG8jzNN1-h07K4XOxSnixANsr3XpsM9dERuTtXGai3mPVH3LSqp/s400/Lilies-Hassam-L.jpg" border="0" /></strong></span></a><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#006600;"><strong> <em><span style="color:#33cc00;">Childe Hassam</span></em><br /><br />Time I put a new posting up. It seems ages since I wrote one, but I have been so busy getting the <em>Daisy Lupin Poetry Fest Website</em> up and running. If you haven't seen it yet click on the link in the sidebar under the little girl reading or follow this </strong></span><a href="http://daisylupinpoetryfest.blogspot.com/"><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#33cc00;"><strong>http://daisylupinpoetryfest.blogspot.com/</strong></span></a><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#006600;"><strong><span style="color:#33cc00;">.</span><br /><br /></strong></span><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgsDHtVTLSM_twPAuck2asDvK-kbeJ-rsVcULryw-u-y_20G2TrEsZFp58625ZBNk9X8D0wi_SBkdOKDXm7_yQCijB7WWXejjtgWVUyq2P6tJTXnE6_RszHuGHIue4frAHqLJT7/s1600-h/42_1.jpg"><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#006600;"><strong><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5072338509400746834" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgsDHtVTLSM_twPAuck2asDvK-kbeJ-rsVcULryw-u-y_20G2TrEsZFp58625ZBNk9X8D0wi_SBkdOKDXm7_yQCijB7WWXejjtgWVUyq2P6tJTXnE6_RszHuGHIue4frAHqLJT7/s400/42_1.jpg" border="0" /></strong></span></a><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#006600;"><strong> It is fascinating watching the poems come in and seeing what people's favourites are around the world. So many people have had a childhood of Walter de la Mare and R. L. Stevenson poems and they are such wonderful children's poems, though I don't know what today's children would think about them. Some people have picked other favourite poems of mine and some have picked poems I don't know which is a good way to learn more. Please keep sending them in, you can post more than once, if you think of more poems or another one you wished you had chosen.<br /><br /></strong></span><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi3fuKj07iBAAVmDQa4LxyqR7gDFMbCPR4I7AztivPW3N4XhgeNHEJinJyw6HY1dB6xhtVLrRCi2JjtUvGrbLFsmO8ANSh4p285oC6nGEz9_42kdqGICEqdCIrFOAIczR-Xmu1X/s1600-h/muffin_and_annette_mills.jpg"><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#006600;"><strong><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5072358293938100658" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi3fuKj07iBAAVmDQa4LxyqR7gDFMbCPR4I7AztivPW3N4XhgeNHEJinJyw6HY1dB6xhtVLrRCi2JjtUvGrbLFsmO8ANSh4p285oC6nGEz9_42kdqGICEqdCIrFOAIczR-Xmu1X/s400/muffin_and_annette_mills.jpg" border="0" /></strong></span></a><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#006600;"><strong> Annette Mills with Muffin the Mule<br /></strong></span></p><p><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#006600;"><strong><span style="color:#33cc00;">Reading the poems and watching a series of programmes last week on television has got me thinking about childhood. The BBC [public broadcasting] ran a series of programmes, every evening on one of its smaller channels about the <em>History of Children's Television</em>. It took every decade and showed programmes made for children and discussed them. My decade was the 1950's, as the older I got the less I had time for television. What struck me most about these early black and white programes from the BBC were two things. How class conscious they were, and on the other hand what an innocent world it was. A strange combination. The programmes were solidly aimed at 'nice' middle class children, showing them how to behave and what to think. Everyone spoke with these strange strangulated 'BBC perfect English accents' of the time. and if they interviewed children, the poor children sound so pompous, more like middle aged people of the time. Then ITV arrived, the channel funded by advertising, it was not bound by the mores of the BBC and had what was called at the time a 'commoner' approach to children's programmes. At least the kids acted and sounded like the real children you met at school or in your neighbourhood.<br /><br />I think the thing that fascinates me is that at the time, I didn't get these nuances from the BBC programmes, but was often annoyed by them without knowing why and the patronising attitude of the presenters. I am afraid I was not a <em>Blue Peter</em> kid, but a <em>Magpie</em> kid, some people will know what I am talking about, as they were two opposing channel's magazine type programmes for children.</span><br /><br />Apart from the above, I do look back with a rosy and golden glow around my childhood. I was always a bookworm, and had a father that loved reciting poetry to me. I know I played out a lot, alone in the garden, making gifts for faeries etc, or outside in my garden or neighbourhood with my friends. Yet I can never work out where in amongst all this I found the time to read as much as I did. I got four books out of the library every Monday evening and returned them the next week read. If it was rainy weather, I would go top a friend's house, or a child would come to my house to play, so where was my reading time? I feel I must have read secretly for hours after I had been put to bed.<br /><br /></p><p></strong></span><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhyKfiV_4Ykuhw_RNmNBdZffFjHN6f_vwWiqZMnXN27HxETg2tkq-KA-HrFpQRBIJ9A5MrYJnTtN992CCDCZnXe7fYgb6EuVIel6rJBz-SM-damUliWZu7_bIj9Jm1rk3RuuY8O/s1600-h/467.jpg"><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#006600;"><strong><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5072364654784666050" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhyKfiV_4Ykuhw_RNmNBdZffFjHN6f_vwWiqZMnXN27HxETg2tkq-KA-HrFpQRBIJ9A5MrYJnTtN992CCDCZnXe7fYgb6EuVIel6rJBz-SM-damUliWZu7_bIj9Jm1rk3RuuY8O/s400/467.jpg" border="0" /></strong></span></a><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#006600;"><strong> <span style="color:#33cc00;"><em>Helen Bradley</em></span><br /><br />My favourite reading time of all was on Sunday afternoons. What happened on a Sunday was at midday we would have our Sunday lunch. That is the works, every Sunday without fail, Roast joint of Beef, Roasted potatoes, Yorkshire Pudding, two or three types of vegetable and gravy. Followed on by something like apple tart and custard or rhubarb crumble and custard. Then the dishes were washed whilst I was sent to clean my self up and My Mum, Dad and I, would then go to my Grandmother's [my Mother's Mother] for tea. At 2.00pm we left our house, and this is the amazing thing. as long as it was fine we walked there, a good hour's walk. I can't imagine anyone doing that these days, but lots of families were walking to various places at that time.<br /><br /></strong></span><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi3EeENBX6Teqf9M8HeDDgNaXukSvRX4cbn7tr2OmwqinMRYTzooL8QuM8Yey4kQhkRX8hWtWyI8n-PRAHZmKQ9s8OwMOoCTihkOdQKN3-3AXfo7eTP35cb85ep0URTFnPc2IfS/s1600-h/thm_seventimesone7x5.jpg"><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#006600;"><strong><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5072365058511591890" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi3EeENBX6Teqf9M8HeDDgNaXukSvRX4cbn7tr2OmwqinMRYTzooL8QuM8Yey4kQhkRX8hWtWyI8n-PRAHZmKQ9s8OwMOoCTihkOdQKN3-3AXfo7eTP35cb85ep0URTFnPc2IfS/s400/thm_seventimesone7x5.jpg" border="0" /></strong></span></a><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#006600;"><strong> <em><span style="color:#33cc00;">Jessie Wilcox Smith</span></em><br /></strong></span></p><p><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#006600;"><strong>We would arrive at my Grandparents, my Aunt would already be there as she lived at home still, she married late in life, when I was about twelve. We would all sit down with a cup of tea, never coffee, and a glass of juice for me and talk about the week that had past. I was asked about school and anything else I had been doing. After about an hour of this I was allowed in the garden to play, there was a big lawn, and lots of flowerbeds, paths and a vegetable garden to be turned into wild places by my imagination. Unfortunately, the Avenue my Grandparents lived in had no children in it at all, mostly older couples whose children had left home. But I enjoyed my solitary time in the garden and would construct tents out of old blankets or make dens and generally play imaginary games. I did also have some old toys of my Mother's that I loved to play with there.<br /><br /></strong></span><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiwC-KVB0R0utSUU3jEjX5PAPnkSHaoVoCnexLmy337xDRd3mdAHrqTwl8OKgbXkkUWL8ukhMp3_w-JGVoKFgmkZR-JSqQOsn8-BFRg7fQk35G8R56rzBiOSV1jzoTw2rRYdzNr/s1600-h/i009_th.jpg"><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#006600;"><strong><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5072357237376145810" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiwC-KVB0R0utSUU3jEjX5PAPnkSHaoVoCnexLmy337xDRd3mdAHrqTwl8OKgbXkkUWL8ukhMp3_w-JGVoKFgmkZR-JSqQOsn8-BFRg7fQk35G8R56rzBiOSV1jzoTw2rRYdzNr/s400/i009_th.jpg" border="0" /></strong></span></a><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#006600;"><strong><br />Then I would become aware of the women, my Mum, Aunt and Grandmother, moving around the kitchen, I could see them through the kitchen window, this was the beginning of getting the tea ready. The talk in the kitchen would become whispered and gossipy, but it is surprising what 'little ears' heard as I popped in and out of the kitchen. Let me tell you, children miss nothing. My father and grandfather would talk men's talk in the main room, though I don't think they had any interests in common, which every Sunday would end up with a tale from my Grandfather about the First World War. He would never tell of the horrors of the trenches, but talked about his comrades or about the time when he was a Prisoner of War. He was placed on a farm, where he was very well treated by a pair of German Farmers, and he was together with another English man and a Russian. It all seemed so very civilised, unlike the Second World War. He kept in contact with the German couple for many years and the Russian, until he disappeared into the upheavels of the time in Russia. Consequently my Grandfather could speak German and a smattering of Russian. Unfortunately his lungs were damaged by gas in the trenches and that seriously affected him as old age struck. I often wished I had been more interested in his tales, as I then thought them boring, but now I realise what a wonderful insight into history it must have been.<br /><br /></strong></span><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhsX9ZLVD_KSKD9uPC7ZxF8XD63zYz7KIYbSNj2EqSEFTYVH8ojY7hPOwRM_0yd626O6uMu0ZjucsEPA4CQON5bIUAohKyOXEM2l5bI6uXNk6es0yek4idzEn8TX5YYBRyUsHfT/s1600-h/Stephen-Darbishire-Sunday-Tea-Time-103094.jpg"><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#006600;"><strong><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5072357778542025122" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhsX9ZLVD_KSKD9uPC7ZxF8XD63zYz7KIYbSNj2EqSEFTYVH8ojY7hPOwRM_0yd626O6uMu0ZjucsEPA4CQON5bIUAohKyOXEM2l5bI6uXNk6es0yek4idzEn8TX5YYBRyUsHfT/s400/Stephen-Darbishire-Sunday-Tea-Time-103094.jpg" border="0" /></strong></span></a><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#006600;"><strong> <em><span style="color:#33cc00;"> S. Derbyshire</span></em><br /><br />The table was set and we all went through for tea at 5.00pm. My Grandmother was an expert at teas and a traditional Sunday tea at my Grandparents was as follows. There would be two types of sandwiches, probably, egg mayonnaise and come type of cold meat and mustard or pickle. A cold sliced beef mince pie and a cold sliced egg and bacon pie, a plate of fruit scones, always a plate cake [ tart] with fruit in season ie apple, blackcurrant, gooseberry. a sponge cake either victoria or chocolate then something like a coconut cake or maderia. My Grandmother did all this baking herself, the only concession to Sunday was a plate of 'fancies' [ fancy cakes she had bought at the bakery]. All this was washed down with gallons of tea. Imagine though, all this was after the large Sunday dinner we had eaten at midday.<br /><br /></strong></span><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhRv7Iac3vvV2MhT7pY_hedFEQJ48k6Rh8bni9U5Yz0z9KypD-R4jFJTzk-cNLmZuOfuxez15qUte40ZWfvCzJHQwynmgp_ew-EsogQRDJ7dR09bSTpd4iexBFNckLYV6u6Yo-D/s1600-h/Lilacs-Marguerites-Lvan+gogh.jpg"><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#006600;"><strong><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5072356593131051394" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhRv7Iac3vvV2MhT7pY_hedFEQJ48k6Rh8bni9U5Yz0z9KypD-R4jFJTzk-cNLmZuOfuxez15qUte40ZWfvCzJHQwynmgp_ew-EsogQRDJ7dR09bSTpd4iexBFNckLYV6u6Yo-D/s400/Lilacs-Marguerites-Lvan+gogh.jpg" border="0" /></strong></span></a><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#006600;"><strong> <em><span style="color:#33cc00;">Van Gogh</span></em><br /><br />After tea, I didn't usually go back into the garden, the Sunday had left the lawn, and I was supposed to let my tea digest, so I was allowed to go into the formal sitting room, and snuggle down on one of the deep comfortable chairs that were part of an art deco three piece suite, how I wish I had these chairs and settee now! This was when I brought my book out and would spend an hour happily immersed in its story. All my Famous Five books I remember reading in this chair. At around 7.00 we would leave my Grandparents and if it was Summer and a nice night we would walk back home instead of getting two buses to go home. Probably all that walking on a Sunday helped us burn up the calories from our two huge Sunday meals. Home again, meant, for me, immediate bath, a plain biscuit and drink for supper and to bed, for a sneaky read.<br /><br />I suppose when you look back in this way childhood does seem a golden time, as you probably remember the sunny days best and the mostly happy family days, not days or rain and crisis which happen occasionally in every family.</strong></span><br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgVIfTgcWLE5cuHkZAIjLR4Xt-EEr4zraKfxC7-m6weppJ7AI0rVCKR9v2bneECT2cpo8ELtlLa3Ff1bKiKfySA_1uGHXDQs-sRuQ6t8AactPiilc6Ki5TAuv4Vr42JX1FJYFcL/s1600-h/glorious.gif"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5072337190845786914" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgVIfTgcWLE5cuHkZAIjLR4Xt-EEr4zraKfxC7-m6weppJ7AI0rVCKR9v2bneECT2cpo8ELtlLa3Ff1bKiKfySA_1uGHXDQs-sRuQ6t8AactPiilc6Ki5TAuv4Vr42JX1FJYFcL/s200/glorious.gif" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEggxoXJen8B2vKc62U47XH499xhE0EwAYghqI6Ol6r4Y0WuoS9-xFRCVqyItGSH1fL7ArAwz_ZvzSzl8rSrXaVn4jqDPGsSlYoaeH3conR73fzrWRxqcFkm1H3VQgvoh4XXY_Oy/s1600-h/Paul-Cezanne-Still-Life-with-Curtain-and-Fruit-5460copy.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5072337362644478770" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEggxoXJen8B2vKc62U47XH499xhE0EwAYghqI6Ol6r4Y0WuoS9-xFRCVqyItGSH1fL7ArAwz_ZvzSzl8rSrXaVn4jqDPGsSlYoaeH3conR73fzrWRxqcFkm1H3VQgvoh4XXY_Oy/s200/Paul-Cezanne-Still-Life-with-Curtain-and-Fruit-5460copy.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br /></p>Daisy Lupinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13673588364228846859noreply@blogger.com16tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28080603.post-63291148303673484632007-05-29T17:20:00.000+01:002007-05-30T09:37:32.447+01:00TIME FOR A POETRY FEST<p><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgale6tZ0cRbMRKAwFMWcdKkqa2WrA0Cgy542P08dm7YBsTiV_Ue_TwatKdWDcqVbwZQmi5Ngv72PTlWaG9OKwQC9NXZuX7o0nx_V4gLAnQG9r16KR_hFeSCKaRI-uaeYSzfz5S/s1600-h/Spellbound-L.jpg"><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#9999ff;"><strong><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5070254702937876594" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgale6tZ0cRbMRKAwFMWcdKkqa2WrA0Cgy542P08dm7YBsTiV_Ue_TwatKdWDcqVbwZQmi5Ngv72PTlWaG9OKwQC9NXZuX7o0nx_V4gLAnQG9r16KR_hFeSCKaRI-uaeYSzfz5S/s400/Spellbound-L.jpg" border="0" /></strong></span></a><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#9999ff;"><strong><br /><br />I was thinking yesterday whilst relaxing during our late Spring Public Holiday about poetry and its place in our lives. The poems we loved as children, the poems that had 'special messages' for us during our teen years, and whose subjects took upon the face of our current 'beloved' and finally the adult years the poems that have inspired us, spurred us on in the face of disaster and those so beautiful they make us weep. Then an idea struck me, yes slap bang in the middle of my forehead. a beautiful. inspirational but simple idea. This is it!<br /><br />During the summer months I am going to open a blog, similar to <span style="color:#ffcc33;"><em>Daisy Lupins Story</em></span> <span style="color:#ffcc33;"><em>Telling Circle,</em></span> for those that remember that at Halloween. This time it is to be devoted to poetry and I am going to run it for three months. <span style="color:#9999ff;">June</span> will be <span style="color:#ffcc33;"><em>Poetry we loved as</em></span> <em><span style="color:#ffcc33;">Children</span></em>, <span style="color:#ffcc33;"><span style="color:#9999ff;">July</span> </span>will be <span style="color:#ffcc33;"><em>Teenage Dreams</em></span> and <span style="color:#9999ff;">August</span> will be <span style="color:#ffcc33;">Now we are Mature</span>. I would ask you all to either post your favourite childhood poem on your blog or email me with it, you can add an illustration if you like, but don't panic, I will transfer the poems onto <em><span style="color:#ffcc33;">Daisy Lupin's Poetry Fest,</span></em> I will also source illustrations for your poems if you want. I will put these on my new poetry blog which will be linked to my <em><span style="color:#ffcc33;">Cats in the Kitchen Flora</span></em> <em><span style="color:#ffcc33;">in the Garden</span></em> Blog.<br /><br /></strong></span><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgxcoDcgdPoPKc1bvOl90CPQamnGVWqaz0xuLTQcLDbatwbIeaIOglOX1xXGPtA6MGAZQv_Fp5PEouqO2mPi-xQ0Wbrzov6ANz7DYGb9TCu-eA9u54fiLM9Z0mIrgggVX5pHY6y/s1600-h/poetryfest.jpg"><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#9999ff;"><strong><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5070261862648359042" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgxcoDcgdPoPKc1bvOl90CPQamnGVWqaz0xuLTQcLDbatwbIeaIOglOX1xXGPtA6MGAZQv_Fp5PEouqO2mPi-xQ0Wbrzov6ANz7DYGb9TCu-eA9u54fiLM9Z0mIrgggVX5pHY6y/s400/poetryfest.jpg" border="0" /></strong></span></a> <span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#9999ff;"><strong><a href="http://daisylupinpoetryfest.blogspot.com/"><span style="color:#ffcc33;">http://</span><span style="color:#ffcc33;">daisylupinpoetryfest.blogspot.com/</a></span><br /><br />I loved poetry as a child, mainly it has to be said due to my Father, who had been to a school where vast chunks of poetry had to be learnt by heart every week. He could spout vast amounts of rip roaring High Victorian and Edwardian poetry, and did so to me. I loved these poems. Unfortunately, in later life I turned my back on a lot of poetry, as I had a very difficult teenage and early twenties relationship with my Father and he became associated with poetry. In my later years, I have now overcome this stumbling block and delight in poetry once again.<br /><br />You don't have to stop at one poem, come back with as many as you want. One proviso, so we are not constantly repeating poems, if a poem is popular, the person who posts or emails it first will have it credited as their favourite, you can still comment on it though, plus there are surely lots of different poems for us all. I'll start the ball rolling, this should be so interesting to see what poems people pick, and who knows we may find some new favourites ourselves. So for the whole of JUNE it is <em><span style="color:#ffcc33;">POETRY WE LOVED AS CHILDREN</span></em>. I'm making a sidebar badge for it, so come along and join in and enjoy.<br /><br /><br /></strong></span><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi782v0JYuuKM7loA7X2IoFxw3MK43cZ3BY2_x6Hdqo9-kwnoZsIrUeeKBhAFW-LdpY6Z1ONYO3aP5CrOlhLG-BWP_pn6mM6K7x1f2Qd3rpMJj9E3cW-z5ItjFD1zZQjH9Q_URj/s1600-h/geraniums-Lchilde+hassam.jpg"><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#9999ff;"><strong><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5070254402290165858" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi782v0JYuuKM7loA7X2IoFxw3MK43cZ3BY2_x6Hdqo9-kwnoZsIrUeeKBhAFW-LdpY6Z1ONYO3aP5CrOlhLG-BWP_pn6mM6K7x1f2Qd3rpMJj9E3cW-z5ItjFD1zZQjH9Q_URj/s400/geraniums-Lchilde+hassam.jpg" border="0" /></strong></span></a><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#9999ff;"><strong> <em>C. Hassam</em><br /><br /><span style="color:#ffcc33;">Well, that's the long weekend over, a mixed bag of weather, but at least I got out into my garden for one whole long day and was happy with what I achieved. My poppies are amazing this year and I must get them photographed, unfortunately, we have had quite heavy winds at times and some of the poor poppies are unfurling to be blown away without a chance to bloom properly. My petunias are growing really lushly, deep velverty blooms. I have one sparse looking bed where my shrubs and lilac bushes are but I have planted lots of little clumps or what will become ground cover, so by the end of the Summer all the soil should, I hope, be covered. As soon as the ground is dry enough, my other half, the Wiz, will lay this year's bark chippings around the stepping stones and in the sitting area. I then just have to put all my ceramic blue pots in their permanent summer positions.</span><br /><br /></strong></span><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEijqDy8imIGFNdwURwXHkJME4Av399X4r7j2_d4_-ZS09wYmuXDWrjWBP4M-VDZUj-4LlOsOBngHtg_9Gv0Om4M-z5PZcuagak__rg7OsHWchaT4UXFAmUj9Kh6zmAxSO6kTgjB/s1600-h/Dreams-II-Vogeler-L.jpg"><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#9999ff;"><strong><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5070262030152083602" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEijqDy8imIGFNdwURwXHkJME4Av399X4r7j2_d4_-ZS09wYmuXDWrjWBP4M-VDZUj-4LlOsOBngHtg_9Gv0Om4M-z5PZcuagak__rg7OsHWchaT4UXFAmUj9Kh6zmAxSO6kTgjB/s400/Dreams-II-Vogeler-L.jpg" border="0" /></strong></span></a><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#9999ff;"><strong> <em>Vogeler<br /></em><br /><br /><span style="color:#ffcc66;"><span style="color:#ffcc33;">I gave in on Friday and put all my ornaments out. So the White Rabbit is anxiously looking at his watch under the lilac bush, my Hare is moon gazing, my Green Man has been in situ all year round, so he can protect the garden. my glass orb looks beautiful popping up above the salvias and penstemons. The final flourish will be siting my oblelisk and placing my golden hare in position. I put in four solar powered lights on Friday, and went to look at them on Friday evening, they cast lovely pools of soft yellow light in the darkness. I will have to get some photographs organised</span>.</span><br /><br /></strong></span><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgjbnLr_5KahegnD1KphZ4MlgdgS_9S876pEJY8p3PKyYdXlDLkhGKZLdFx2bmW1DJUWD9uyYJ44ojm-zdcltDSmyftrQO9HTpRKsAy6zvuJnwDryg6pyEcHoX6lRGbbOTVgrWB/s1600-h/room-flowers-Lhassam.jpg"><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#9999ff;"><strong><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5070254084462585938" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgjbnLr_5KahegnD1KphZ4MlgdgS_9S876pEJY8p3PKyYdXlDLkhGKZLdFx2bmW1DJUWD9uyYJ44ojm-zdcltDSmyftrQO9HTpRKsAy6zvuJnwDryg6pyEcHoX6lRGbbOTVgrWB/s400/room-flowers-Lhassam.jpg" border="0" /></strong></span></a><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#9999ff;"><strong> <em><span style="color:#ffcc66;">C. Hassam</span></em></strong></span></p><p><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#9999ff;"><strong>The time I couldn't spend in the garden at the weekend gave me time to finish off some craft commitments, and I put them in the post today. I feel footloose and fancy free on the craft front, and a great weight seems to have been lifted from my shoulders. I am starting to brim over with ideas again, now I have only one swap ongoing. It's much better for creativity this way. </strong></span></p><p><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#9999ff;"><strong>Caught up on some good music television over the weekend too. David Bowie's last concert as <em><span style="color:#ffcc33;">Ziggy Stardust</span></em> back in the 70's. How some of those costumes he wore, like the romper suit type thing, make me cringe now. The sound started off ropey but as the concert kicked in it got better and better. Also a very long programme about LA music called from the <em><span style="color:#ffcc33;">Byrds to the Eagles</span></em>, which was fascinating, especially the filmed bits of Laurel Canyon. I also started on a new book<em><span style="color:#ffcc33;"> Labyrinthe</span></em> by Kate Mosse, this one goes between the present day and the Cathars in Medieval France, I think the Grail comes into it as well. It's a big fat juicy book!<br /></strong></span><br /></p><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjNcLAJZx-JlxdIsxvs5m1FPvY0RigwDY7QR2nfUjd012KmhdE8z_YIQPhXg6A2joHfMDbkIhLEa4NgIbGup-C3zjiAyfNzAnQNgjBRn9m3KFwOhMrGilp2_uY_yDQjSScXjjxr/s1600-h/glorious.gif"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5070194534741026834" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjNcLAJZx-JlxdIsxvs5m1FPvY0RigwDY7QR2nfUjd012KmhdE8z_YIQPhXg6A2joHfMDbkIhLEa4NgIbGup-C3zjiAyfNzAnQNgjBRn9m3KFwOhMrGilp2_uY_yDQjSScXjjxr/s200/glorious.gif" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiBntIsL1Ss9OSLh_HytQ2KPZTZZiNHMH4_cgyYzCh4FoCRkynG4tFPG_SkLZ-Eg04efPmZMgZ5Q846u3BeBLdpt33hMo1NE4kBfLtz35i3j0MTg6x2sBUsERZhCucw78mSl8do/s1600-h/Paul-Cezanne-Still-Life-with-Curtain-and-Fruit-5460copy.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5070253676440692802" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiBntIsL1Ss9OSLh_HytQ2KPZTZZiNHMH4_cgyYzCh4FoCRkynG4tFPG_SkLZ-Eg04efPmZMgZ5Q846u3BeBLdpt33hMo1NE4kBfLtz35i3j0MTg6x2sBUsERZhCucw78mSl8do/s200/Paul-Cezanne-Still-Life-with-Curtain-and-Fruit-5460copy.jpg" border="0" /></a>Daisy Lupinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13673588364228846859noreply@blogger.com18tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28080603.post-40768580412210056922007-05-23T17:27:00.000+01:002007-05-24T02:18:53.629+01:00MORE INFORMATION THAN YOU PROBABLY EVER WANTED TO KNOW ABOUT ME<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhnM7fBtAWD2qre5GzL5yMJG4_1OUkZlx1Hvlmdp3KQynPZU4lvEKoaAiTkd08rpqrtbyEeBjrgY21a_qxyshHYkf8okf9RGPIRpJl4VdA7vLnJiaocGIbzlsabfZCoUv3vohza/s1600-h/tra186.jpg"><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#33cc00;"><strong><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5067918214959048626" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhnM7fBtAWD2qre5GzL5yMJG4_1OUkZlx1Hvlmdp3KQynPZU4lvEKoaAiTkd08rpqrtbyEeBjrgY21a_qxyshHYkf8okf9RGPIRpJl4VdA7vLnJiaocGIbzlsabfZCoUv3vohza/s400/tra186.jpg" border="0" /></strong></span></a><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#33cc00;"><strong><br /><br />Following on from <em>seven random things</em> I realised that I had never done this meme, that I found ages ago. Sorry, but I go through stages of being addicted to these things, also they are a great way to find out what makes people tick, and if someone else wants to do this one, great. Sorry, also to whoever's blog I stole this from, I don't know whose it was, but it might have been Janet's as she loves meme's too, apologies if I have named the wrong person.<br /><br /><span style="color:#ff99ff;">What curse words do you use the most?</span><br />Well this is revealing, I swear like a trooper in the privacy of my own home. I take the attitude that most curse and swear words were originally just good old anglo-saxon and later on Early English. The combination of having lived a hippie lifestyle and later studying Chaucer meant I felt completely differently about 'curse words'. If they were good enough for Chaucer they are good enough for me. I know from feedback I have had from people who are now good friends that when I started this blog, people imagined a prim lady sitting daintily prettily typing out a blog! Hah, nothing could be further from the truth! I have no qualms at all about swearing, and totally poo poo the idea that people only curse and swear because they have a limited vocabulary. Try a good dose of private cursing, it certainly takes away the stress.<br /><br /><span style="color:#ff99ff;">Do you own an i-pod?</span><br />No but I am being constantly promised my daughter's old one, are you reading this Sweetpea?<br /><br /><span style="color:#ff99ff;">What time is your alarm clock set to?</span><br />It isn’t. I just wake up, usually between seven and eight, nearer to seven if the sun is shining, nearer to eight on a dull day. Alarm clocks, are only for going on trips or holidays. Then I am too scared of sleeping in and spend the night checking the time.<br /><br /><span style="color:#ff99ff;">Would you rather take the picture or be in the picture?</span><br />I’d rather take the photograph, I love taking photographs, if you look at our holiday photos it always seems to be of a man and two children, where is the woman, behind the camera, but that suits me fine.<br /><br /><span style="color:#ff99ff;">What was the last movie you watched?</span><br />The Legend of Sleepy Hollow, a double whammy, a good fun movie and Mr J Depp.<br /><br /></strong></span><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgcT0ylQu18QWZVvNVo8-DXtFMJGfBz2q7mORRRhFIyhhj9U3O96F3_upbd42tGd9L6nz0AD7zs5NJqPE0H3y0gEo9XGwJiYeCdcevBIsGv8KkjR7lq4wzzPGFK3tZ7uvqvBGBV/s1600-h/694.jpg"><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#33cc00;"><strong><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5067917725332776866" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgcT0ylQu18QWZVvNVo8-DXtFMJGfBz2q7mORRRhFIyhhj9U3O96F3_upbd42tGd9L6nz0AD7zs5NJqPE0H3y0gEo9XGwJiYeCdcevBIsGv8KkjR7lq4wzzPGFK3tZ7uvqvBGBV/s400/694.jpg" border="0" /></strong></span></a><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#33cc00;"><strong> John Piper<br /><br /><span style="color:#ff99ff;">What cd is currently in your player?</span><br />A Paul Simon compliation.<br /><br /><span style="color:#ff99ff;">Do you prefer regular or chocolate milk?</span><br />Yuck, why on earth would I want to drink milk?<br /><br /><span style="color:#ff99ff;">Has anyone told you a secret this week?</span><br />Yes, people tell me secrets most weeks and they stay secrets.<br /><br /><span style="color:#ff99ff;">When was the last time you had Starcrack Starbucks?</span><br />Never, sixty miles to my nearest Starbucks.<br /><br /><span style="color:#ff99ff;">Can you whistle?</span><br />No, just make an imperfect flat sound but I can sing.<br /><br /><span style="color:#ff99ff;">What are you looking forward to?</span><br />Short-term…My daughter coming to visit after her holiday to Jamaica, so she can tell us all about it. Mid-term... The chance at some point to have a break away, a short holiday for my other half and I, time for total chill out.<br /><br /><span style="color:#ff99ff;">Did you watch cartoons when you were little?</span><br />Yes, Yogi Bear ['What's up BooBoo?' and 'Smarter than the average bear'] and the wonderful Top Cat and his nemisis Officer Dibble.<br /><br /><span style="color:#ff99ff;">Do you own any band t-shirts?<br /></span>Have in the past, mainly Grateful Dead<br /><br /><span style="color:#ff99ff;">What will you be doing in an hour?</span><br />Having a lovely foamy hot bath.<br /><br /><span style="color:#ff99ff;">What was the last song you heard?</span><br /><em>Season of the Witch</em> Donovan, for two reasons, my fellow blogger Gemma quoted it on her blog and got me thinking about Donovan, then another fellow blogger Lila sent me a link to Donovan on <em>You Tube</em> and from hence I went on searching until I came across <em>Season of the Witch</em>.<br /><br /><span style="color:#ff99ff;">Last time you cried?</span><br />As I have said before I often shed a tear at happy or unhappy endings, at happy events or sad events. Within the last few days is probably the truest answer.<br /><br /><span style="color:#ff99ff;">Desktop or laptop?</span><br />Good old desktop, an old friend.<br /><br /><span style="color:#ff99ff;">What’s the weather like?</span><br />Grey and chilly today, typical weather for May in our area which always seems to flucuate between wonderful hot sunny days, pouring rain and the aforementioned.<br /><br /><span style="color:#ff99ff;">What were you doing an hour ago?</span><br />Placing a fish dish for dinner in the oven.<br /><br /><span style="color:#ff99ff;">How many hours of sleep do you need to function?<br /></span>I cannot at the moment sleep the night through, I have been making myself go to bed at 12.30, 1.00 at the latest, otherwise I will be up pottering around until 3.00. I go to sleep easily, the trouble is I can't sleep all night, I always wake, about one minute before the dawn chorus starts. I just realise that that is what my body wants and I go down the stairs and make a cuppa whilst listening to the birds waking up, then go back to bed until wake up time. I probably function on about six hours in total, but really probably should have about seven or eight.<br /><br /><span style="color:#ff99ff;">Do you eat breakfast daily</span><span style="color:#ff99ff;">?<br /></span>Always, it's what fuels you for the day, always either fresh juice or probiotic drink and then cereal, finishing up with a cup of coffee.<br /><br /></strong></span><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhKdXeKfd4k3dpisklMV8E7LiIuoh-ACacWwO0DFz8_4LEgVn67n042l3S2AH1XkNTha1gRkja25E-lTQ4tRzkEm4HGHVv99r00IeJPBLr5nNbiTdmN_t6wra4cOhOQJVjP_GRq/s1600-h/whistler.jpg"><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#33cc00;"><strong><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5067918326628198338" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhKdXeKfd4k3dpisklMV8E7LiIuoh-ACacWwO0DFz8_4LEgVn67n042l3S2AH1XkNTha1gRkja25E-lTQ4tRzkEm4HGHVv99r00IeJPBLr5nNbiTdmN_t6wra4cOhOQJVjP_GRq/s400/whistler.jpg" border="0" /></strong></span></a><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#33cc00;"><strong> J M Whistler<br /><br /><span style="color:#ff99ff;">What did you do last night?</span><br />Started reading a new book, Phil Rickman's <em>The Smile of a Ghost</em>, I love his books.<br /><br /><span style="color:#ff99ff;">Do you use sarcasm?</span><br />At times I have been known to, and no 'sarcasm is not the lowest form of wit'. I do have at times a dark dry sense of humour.<br /><br /><span style="color:#ff99ff;">Do you like mustard?</span><br />I love grainy mustard with cold meats and on salad adore honey and mustard dressing.<br /><br /><span style="color:#ff99ff;">Do you sleep on your side/back/stomach?</span><br />Always sleep on one side or the other. I like to go to sleep on my right side which lets me look at the night sky outside the bedroom window.<br /><br /><span style="color:#ff99ff;">Do you watch the news?<br /></span>Very occasionally, don't really like the way news is shown on television.<br /><br /></strong></span><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj2UAjUV0TeHA8Xlf4OWdnLdsSQ2rflhpkVA_uT4FwixCxbCNGOTcFe8xHUpZc0M4A0vX3FQV91Afpjj04z5bhj8aUhmmuERe_TiF6vDLsgd_Gm_zadnGxz7hWggXzKjJSdwjdS/s1600-h/PMP163_400.jpg"><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#33cc00;"><strong><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5067925838525999090" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj2UAjUV0TeHA8Xlf4OWdnLdsSQ2rflhpkVA_uT4FwixCxbCNGOTcFe8xHUpZc0M4A0vX3FQV91Afpjj04z5bhj8aUhmmuERe_TiF6vDLsgd_Gm_zadnGxz7hWggXzKjJSdwjdS/s400/PMP163_400.jpg" border="0" /></strong></span></a><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#33cc00;"><strong> Laura Knight<br /><br /><span style="color:#ff99ff;">This weekend is an English Public Holiday weekend, which means that Monday is a day off work for people, it is commonly known as Whit Weekend, or Whit Week. This week was always celebrated from the early 1800's in the industrial cities and towns in the North of England by Whit Marches. If you think of the long working hours and days of people of that time, you can understand how a holiday week end would be a huge celebration. People would try to achieve new clothes or at least dress up in their very very best, young girls would wear white dresses with flowers in their hair and marches would be held through out the town. Churches and chapels would march, led by brass bands, around the town to some final area where the fun would begin and there would be games and picnics and a fine time would be had by all. It was a moveable holiday happening on slightly different weekends every year, depending on when Easter and Pentecost were. It has now been regulated to the last weekend in May and is really called Spring Bank Holiday and is just a four day weekend now. <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjieNIZ59R9MhDPDREYJ9Y1WVMEUPmXDw29iyCMmNu812YEVMJMaeND6ptnOLLS-mWH-nVG78YWSD56A1ZRMNHBsxHBFfzqNLTpjqAEjUroE51FGAWxldTIhSUH3U28uspFR_7z/s1600-h/246450-025.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5067930004644276226" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjieNIZ59R9MhDPDREYJ9Y1WVMEUPmXDw29iyCMmNu812YEVMJMaeND6ptnOLLS-mWH-nVG78YWSD56A1ZRMNHBsxHBFfzqNLTpjqAEjUroE51FGAWxldTIhSUH3U28uspFR_7z/s400/246450-025.jpg" border="0" /></a></span></strong></span><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#33cc00;"><strong><span style="color:#ff99ff;"><br /></span></strong></span><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#33cc00;"><strong><span style="color:#ff99ff;"> Erte<br /><br /></span><span style="color:#33cc00;">I am hoping for good weather this coming weekend, this is the weekend when I like to get all the annual work in my garden done with so it is ready to enjoy for the summer. I have got my last batch of annuals to plant in the remaining containers. I have bought an oblelisk that I am screwing together to grow clematis up and I need to bring out my collection of ornaments that I have been collecting since last year, nothing like the late summer sales in garden centres. I have also got a set of four solar lights which I will place at sporadic places around the garden to softly illuminate parts at night.<br /><br />I am experimenting with my flower beds this year, I have planted lots of items over the past few years, and some are now mature, in fact, my borders are probably about as full as they can be, unless I start splitting plants and giving some away. So I have decided to try to have a sort of unkempt look in the garden this year. A type of blowsy, lush ripeness, just teetering on the verge of slipping over into dangerous wildness, but still under control. I don't like gardens where there is not a blade of grass out of place or a weed dare not raise its head. In fact, I have been known to let one or two weeds grow if they have pretty flowers, as some of these weeds are just wild flowers and sometimes of herbal use. I will have to take some photographs of how the garden looks now at the start of the summer and how it progresses through the summer.<br /></span><br /><br /></span></strong></span><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgUyOAbqHAvN0fDur5HOIFuBJ1I0kmZu5DZMLKQpIu4K5gDv_Sylj15jb223VM5zVzKb4klFi4afKpkEQ6Pw6jf3Q4pHO_-QRz5IC4uN-NllAN8DP0J8fI1qO0qqKbkfsV9nvj6/s1600-h/212_rosetti_lilith.jpg"><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#33cc00;"><strong><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5067925305950054370" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgUyOAbqHAvN0fDur5HOIFuBJ1I0kmZu5DZMLKQpIu4K5gDv_Sylj15jb223VM5zVzKb4klFi4afKpkEQ6Pw6jf3Q4pHO_-QRz5IC4uN-NllAN8DP0J8fI1qO0qqKbkfsV9nvj6/s400/212_rosetti_lilith.jpg" border="0" /></strong></span></a><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#33cc00;"><strong> Dante Gabriel Rossetti<br /><br /><span style="color:#ff99ff;">To achieve all the above I will need some good gardening weather, and I have a feeling that it might not be happening according to some long term forecasts. Well we will see, if there is no good weather, I'll just have to indulge in a chillout weekend doing my other favourite things, crafting, reading maybe a dvd or too and some nice wine. Won't that be hard to do?</span></strong></span><br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhoLRKWRbaQisz0tz5M4uBbXuUynY5wwqqbRXk7PzQ-GPiz7G4ipe54iWRqDoAbNVdG_bI1Vibi_sFokMmsPuIUn1pYWCRU6nPGP1IYkAv-O7O1yVe-dIuMWGjS669EfUT0QWZ6/s1600-h/glorious.gif"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5067917278656178050" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhoLRKWRbaQisz0tz5M4uBbXuUynY5wwqqbRXk7PzQ-GPiz7G4ipe54iWRqDoAbNVdG_bI1Vibi_sFokMmsPuIUn1pYWCRU6nPGP1IYkAv-O7O1yVe-dIuMWGjS669EfUT0QWZ6/s200/glorious.gif" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiqf-2_uRdbSNp8lgoGyB3o4mJuuOKv4Ut3Zhh7xp7vSuYbeHcH_M986bbGD_kELA6jJh3FdNpTdBnxfx0rkN4nl0ckWSWhPg3ESNyGgaKIBDTFepUbQ-GBsfOGi3PvKEHSYHtC/s1600-h/Paul-Cezanne-Still-Life-with-Curtain-and-Fruit-5460+copy.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5067917566418986898" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiqf-2_uRdbSNp8lgoGyB3o4mJuuOKv4Ut3Zhh7xp7vSuYbeHcH_M986bbGD_kELA6jJh3FdNpTdBnxfx0rkN4nl0ckWSWhPg3ESNyGgaKIBDTFepUbQ-GBsfOGi3PvKEHSYHtC/s200/Paul-Cezanne-Still-Life-with-Curtain-and-Fruit-5460+copy.jpg" border="0" /></a>Daisy Lupinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13673588364228846859noreply@blogger.com18tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28080603.post-58849008363096574242007-05-21T08:40:00.000+01:002007-05-21T15:15:41.332+01:00WATCHING FOR THE AVENGING HOARDES CRESTING THE FELL<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgfu7vP133i8nejTvLRaHBsaIDcrZCbUR787RmiMranmGMp_FvboKkKUtgAXS4T7XnlbvQkxIjm0vGseISEpY1dwpguaUauhP0WZ1nM5CG0HlQCStmoHrCDXjlJpVQx4q9sDUaR/s1600-h/castlerigg-9527b.jpg"><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#663366;"><strong><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5066940238020847314" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgfu7vP133i8nejTvLRaHBsaIDcrZCbUR787RmiMranmGMp_FvboKkKUtgAXS4T7XnlbvQkxIjm0vGseISEpY1dwpguaUauhP0WZ1nM5CG0HlQCStmoHrCDXjlJpVQx4q9sDUaR/s400/castlerigg-9527b.jpg" border="0" /></strong></span></a><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#663366;"><strong> <em><span style="color:#00cccc;">Castlerigg Stone Circle</span></em><br /><br />Following on from my last post, I found it so interesting to find out what experiences other people had had in liminality. Most commenters had experienced a little something Julie of <em>Celtic Woman</em> has even blogged about an experience she had which is really interesting. She headed her post with a photograph, which unknown to her, meant a lot to me, Castlerigg Stone Circle above Keswick in Cumbria. I promised to do part of my next posting about my small experience within this circle. So here it is.<br /><br /></strong></span><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg08nBmmoRBdUHYAQK-nNpaVz7WWgVZ_b_SnT42dcVqdNyPfI004dVuAoROljejgkIrLaVjvOmeDrFmlz9sbktqBebhsIG4kVGkHPSuOltt5UKw1JEsm51EIgCpwNu-P7iKL2BQ/s1600-h/cr-south-cupring.jpg"><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#663366;"><strong><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5067009180835882834" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg08nBmmoRBdUHYAQK-nNpaVz7WWgVZ_b_SnT42dcVqdNyPfI004dVuAoROljejgkIrLaVjvOmeDrFmlz9sbktqBebhsIG4kVGkHPSuOltt5UKw1JEsm51EIgCpwNu-P7iKL2BQ/s400/cr-south-cupring.jpg" border="0" /></strong></span></a><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#663366;"><strong> <span style="color:#00cccc;"><em>One of the Standing Stones</em></span></strong></span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#663366;"><strong><em><span style="color:#00cccc;"></span></em><br />I am going back about thirty five years or so, imagine, a cold windswept very early Spring day, spots of rain occasionally falling from the lowering steel grey skies, dark clouds that float over the peaks of some of the higher fells [Fells in Cumbria are small mountains] and if anyone knows the Lake District you know just how oppresive and low the sky can feel there before a long downpour, and when it rains in the Lake District, it rains heavier than I have ever seen anywhere. I was in Keswick, which is about sixty odd miles from me, with some friends for the day. I desperately wanted to go to the Stone Circle, despite the weather, you could drive up in a car, park and cross the field to the Stone Circle. The party divided into two parts, myself and one other person decided to go up to Castlerigg. When we arrived it was a truly desolate site, the stones looming against the pewter sky, not another living person to be seen, just the eerie baaing of the sheep on the fells and the occasional shriek of a curlew. We walked around the stone circle, I remember, touching the stones as we passed them by. We realised we had forgotten to bring a camera, so the other person decided he would go back and check the car to see it there was one in there.<br /><br /><br /><p></strong></span><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhR6fwkK7c_LcHSQj7fe5WOTYEnceOzaI-3T5-V4vEO-113GFibDV8OdMrW26z8xI0NzVc8ARcBbXVpEXozP79GqSdnyj10NL6Q7fnOLeRAoOVKqEc3fqU4KtqC3La4tT0hIYtd/s1600-h/castlerigg-stone-circle.jpg"><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#663366;"><strong><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5066940452769212130" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhR6fwkK7c_LcHSQj7fe5WOTYEnceOzaI-3T5-V4vEO-113GFibDV8OdMrW26z8xI0NzVc8ARcBbXVpEXozP79GqSdnyj10NL6Q7fnOLeRAoOVKqEc3fqU4KtqC3La4tT0hIYtd/s400/castlerigg-stone-circle.jpg" border="0" /></strong></span></a><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#663366;"><strong> <em><span style="color:#00cccc;">Castlerigg Stone Circle [note the colour of the sky]</span></em></strong></span></p><p><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#663366;"><strong><em><span style="color:#00cccc;"></span></em><br />I watched him go and then turned back to view from the stone circle the surrounding fells, I remember I was thinking about the people that had built the circle and wondering about their lives. I began to realise that everywhere had gone deathly still, no animal sounds or bird calls, the wind didn't even seem to be blowing. I was rooted to the spot intently staring at the top of one of the fells. The air felt thick almost as if I put my hand out to touch it, my hand would bounce against some spongy substance. Then just for a flicker of a moment, I had a feeling that I was watching out of someone else's eyes and I knew I was waiting for something, whether it was the avenging hoardes of a neighbouring tribe, or just some messenger, and I knew they would come over the crest of the opposite fell. I also remember thinking that it felt as though I had different clothes on and was carrying something, I, honestly, don't know why I never looked down to see, I presume my eyes were fixed on this point I was watching. Suddenly my concentration faltered, I saw another party in kagouls approaching and everything returned to normal. I have never ever forgotten that day and how it felt in the stone circle. I really felt of another time, I have described the incident to the best of my abilitiy, but it was mostly a tactile and mind experience. I put it down to one of the mysterious things that life throws at you.<br /><br /></strong></span><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi8igT4TAe7RM-vFyu6ksPE4u0W09Ocs-LNs8dgONLB8mItmGrshyNO3IdwBoQC8cbM3Bugo1UnFBaC0I2SCdxt2H97G-sjtASyCuvnVPw7hLU3rN59VVPzmMJAIItufgp881eF/s1600-h/trc226.jpg"><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#663366;"><strong><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5066941294582802194" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi8igT4TAe7RM-vFyu6ksPE4u0W09Ocs-LNs8dgONLB8mItmGrshyNO3IdwBoQC8cbM3Bugo1UnFBaC0I2SCdxt2H97G-sjtASyCuvnVPw7hLU3rN59VVPzmMJAIItufgp881eF/s400/trc226.jpg" border="0" /></strong></span></a><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#663366;"><strong><br /><br /><span style="color:#cc66cc;"><span style="color:#00cccc;">I have been tagged by Lila of <em>Indigo Pear</em> to list seven random things about myself. Hmmm, this might be quite difficult I think you know just about everything about me from previous memes. Some of these memes are so far back in the depths of time that I can't remember what I have revealed or haven't revealed yet. Well here goes, apologies to anyone who feels cheated and thinks <em>she's said that before</em></span></span><span style="color:#00cccc;"><em>!</em><br /></span><br /><br />1. I am left-handed and I love being left-handed, even though it is a right-handed world. People would always comment on it as a child as though it was some great disability. Luckily, my mother was not stupid and did not force me to use my right-hand instead. My greatest difficulty was learning to sew, but I have managed. I would love to embroider properly but the illustrated instruction books don't make sense to me. I have a special pair of left-handed scissors for craft work, and am desperately looking for replacements as they nearing the end of their live. If I use my fountain pen that has a left-handed nib as well. People in my area call it being <em>cack handed</em>, which used to offend me, they probably made a secret evil eye against me too. Put round a table with people, and I will immediately check for left-handed people. There are more of us out there than you would think. Beware we are aiming to take the world over!<br /><br /></strong></span><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjoQSDJm8q2ziXZlTKRSclGmbGPUvzdBhUgHIickUquwDFQeIwLV7XREJ2xwS2xFLfVyD-8YK9qIoi66qwXlYVXhVdvt0GcFlM9WaGY8UMwHqbcvRuywncgdRTw_WJF0nuZTJJx/s1600-h/jackie+morris.jpg"><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#663366;"><strong><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5066941852928550706" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjoQSDJm8q2ziXZlTKRSclGmbGPUvzdBhUgHIickUquwDFQeIwLV7XREJ2xwS2xFLfVyD-8YK9qIoi66qwXlYVXhVdvt0GcFlM9WaGY8UMwHqbcvRuywncgdRTw_WJF0nuZTJJx/s400/jackie+morris.jpg" border="0" /></strong></span></a><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#663366;"><strong> <em> Jackie Morris</em><br /><br /><br /><span style="color:#00cccc;">2. My two worst fears, heights is the first and been totally immersed underwater is the second, my head and neck must be above water. Even a railway bridge between platforms in small stations in the open air makes me shaky. The knock on effect from my fear of heights, is my fear of flying, you know up there in the sky in a plane, no safety net. Which leads me on to my other fear, the water immersion one. Worst possible scenerio, being in a plane in freefall and crashing down into the ocean and being totally immersed in water. Crazy though this may sound, ferries and boats don't bother me, even though they can crash and they travel through water. Perhaps, I was the village witch in a previous life and was thrown into the village duckpond.</span><br /><br /></strong></span><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi-VqYOEZclJLY92MyTlYtKzERYleQR6kJkOlBimjPNJzufwxUnBZGIrxPjYwO8lrONbhyphenhyphenfqlTJ5lCH-iNn4ofqHArSxYV4kHWDEGxodaOApkJ3_W6iHgT1TfiRZW9cj2rFQLVG/s1600-h/Whistler--symphony.jpg"><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#663366;"><strong><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5067009691936991074" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi-VqYOEZclJLY92MyTlYtKzERYleQR6kJkOlBimjPNJzufwxUnBZGIrxPjYwO8lrONbhyphenhyphenfqlTJ5lCH-iNn4ofqHArSxYV4kHWDEGxodaOApkJ3_W6iHgT1TfiRZW9cj2rFQLVG/s400/Whistler--symphony.jpg" border="0" /></strong></span></a><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#663366;"><strong> <span style="color:#00cccc;"> <em> J. M .Whistler</em></span><br /><br />3. I am terribly impatient, I can't stand traffic jams, queues, or explaining things to people, if they don't get what I mean right away. I an't stand waiting for buses, trains or even taxis to arrive. I am aware of this failing of mine. It's so stupid, if I have visitors coming, as the time gets nearer I am constantly clock watching and wondering when they will be arrive. This runs over into a pet hate of mine, I cannot abide people who say, leave it with me and I'll get back to you tomorrow about it, then never ring. Arggghhhh! Do that and I'll be back on the phone giving you a headache. Bet you didn't think I would be impatient?<br /><br /></strong></span><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhW9zY6twpBD2iaBb74UeQfWHKA6wiACOOtRz220dgqg_sT2cmdKuCvaLMr4rMSvDc5-I1ZlnPfsbCEQwRrPP8_ld-hxcbOKMLjo_ouWoQD7zk3vxU7EAkm_dMg7-BP_NazheYj/s1600-h/21_1.jpg"><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#663366;"><strong><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5066940577323263730" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhW9zY6twpBD2iaBb74UeQfWHKA6wiACOOtRz220dgqg_sT2cmdKuCvaLMr4rMSvDc5-I1ZlnPfsbCEQwRrPP8_ld-hxcbOKMLjo_ouWoQD7zk3vxU7EAkm_dMg7-BP_NazheYj/s400/21_1.jpg" border="0" /></strong></span></a><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#663366;"><strong><br /><span style="color:#00cccc;">4. I am an only child, not spoilt, please don't mention that old adage, it really annoys me. If I was spoilt I would have had the bike I always wanted and many other things. No, being an only child made me very self sufficient. I had lots of friends to play with, but if none were available I could occupy myself happily. I still can. The only bad thing about being an only child I can think of was, I had no idea at all about sibling interaction. I was determined to have more that one child, and had two, and what a learning curve that was, watching them interact. They were both treated exactly the same, they would take this to a ridiculous extreme. I remember them cutting a Mars Bar, someone had given them to share, in half both standing watching the kitchen scales as they weighed both halves. Yes, they grumble about each at times, but they do share a flat together in London, at the moment, and have done for three years.</span><br /><br /></strong></span><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi_eJEge4AMtilMLepA9jm3z5NgdhP5gKW9-xt95KYbheYSif632Z9CgLbiDJOergjzwS3vKMK4HGwPpLDXkYGjGsECLIOm2a3QfKfzll2ATjwSq0sMxECfiuAF2Ia6-1cT2_7j/s1600-h/tre277.jpg"><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#663366;"><strong><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5066941517921101602" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi_eJEge4AMtilMLepA9jm3z5NgdhP5gKW9-xt95KYbheYSif632Z9CgLbiDJOergjzwS3vKMK4HGwPpLDXkYGjGsECLIOm2a3QfKfzll2ATjwSq0sMxECfiuAF2Ia6-1cT2_7j/s400/tre277.jpg" border="0" /></strong></span></a><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#663366;"><strong><br />5. I am a good listener, I will listen to any friends troubles and sympathise, I will offer advice if asked, but I expect people to act, it not upon my advice, to move forward somehow or from someone's advice. I can't stand people wallowing in self pity or their trouble, although as I said I am sympathetic, I have this desire always to help people move on make their troubles right again. The flip side to this, is that if I feel troubled, I am more likely to try to work it out myself than to talk to people about it [maybe this is another side to my only child status].<br /><br /></strong></span><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgD4pvlrxdoI8A8g5klbvTs4B6pNt0W6irepqHS2ull9UtNvQLHN0ADT2n2sedJtcc2UR9aak9Epy-s5mWTrf6xiQU26s6iBhz8xg0ds1Gz_kZiELGt-9vkE0eiXjl1hPLVzUOI/s1600-h/i009_th.jpg"><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#663366;"><strong><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5066940877970974466" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgD4pvlrxdoI8A8g5klbvTs4B6pNt0W6irepqHS2ull9UtNvQLHN0ADT2n2sedJtcc2UR9aak9Epy-s5mWTrf6xiQU26s6iBhz8xg0ds1Gz_kZiELGt-9vkE0eiXjl1hPLVzUOI/s400/i009_th.jpg" border="0" /></strong></span></a><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#663366;"><strong><br /><span style="color:#00cccc;">6.As a child I would sing or dance for anyone, I played the piano in music festivals and acted in drama festivals without qualm. If there was a show or a play, I would be in it. I was chatty and outgoing. This all changed when I was eleven. I can remember the day, I was acting in a duologue, I came on stage and announced who I was and my partner did the same, except she said like me she was the Country Mouse, whereas in reality she was the Town Mouse. It was, at that time the worst ten minutes of my life, she dried completely, she just couldn't get one line right, I couldn't really help her if she couldn't remember all her lines, my replies didnot make sense as she hadn't said the lines before. For the first time in my life I was aware of how cruel an audience can be, they found it amusing. I never acted in plays again, terrified that that would happen to me one day. I also began to become more introverted, I was always with friends, but large groups would have me slightly tonguetied. I was a lot quieter until I went to college, then I firmly took myself in hand, by thinking unless I was more outgoing I would have no real fun. I blossomed, and boy did I have fun!</span><br /><br /></strong></span><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjIbREvEyeNakEIy32QsCiQyrrCURLQRLhDgkzUlvNHGr8vhdeQoXhKXNKQ7p4mm7OtSC_1DiOsqcxTKMJbRvFXewO6XzWVcill1X-Pxd36OKskqYW6CwopD40UDo16Xl112hqA/s1600-h/1153064060.jpg"><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#663366;"><strong><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5067010185858230130" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjIbREvEyeNakEIy32QsCiQyrrCURLQRLhDgkzUlvNHGr8vhdeQoXhKXNKQ7p4mm7OtSC_1DiOsqcxTKMJbRvFXewO6XzWVcill1X-Pxd36OKskqYW6CwopD40UDo16Xl112hqA/s400/1153064060.jpg" border="0" /></strong></span></a><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#663366;"><strong> <span style="color:#00cccc;"><em> Elizabeth Blackadder<br /></em></span><br /><br />7. I cry a lot, at the end of books, at the end of films, if I see animals being hurt, I can cry for any reason, if I am happy, if I read something sad, if I am sent a present. My eyes just fill up, I have tried for years and have never ever managed to conqueor this. Anything that touches me for any reason, good or bad, has the capacity to make me shed a few tears. Not loud sobs, just a few tears fill my eyes up and trickle down my face a little.<br /><span style="color:#00cccc;"></span></strong></span></p><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#663366;"><strong><span style="color:#00cccc;">Well, that seemed like a marathon task, but there are seven random unusual things about me. I am not tagging any one else, as I never do, but anyone out there feels like doing this, by all means do it.</span><br /><br /><br /></strong></span><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#663366;"><strong><p></strong></span><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgNaDptyHg2QNHpQr9d8YBkwXDr2GgF1PNNJv6xHEzDYoTzVR1cDQVxcl7HQD715RuaRwOqXB7JPIz8wXg8GnYFvCd4yZ7tVhYrDNsfQKzZhh6y18aYiiIS-RHX8TpJL5l0dB_y/s1600-h/JohnPiper_Gatehouse_450.jpg"><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#663366;"><strong><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5066942046202079042" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgNaDptyHg2QNHpQr9d8YBkwXDr2GgF1PNNJv6xHEzDYoTzVR1cDQVxcl7HQD715RuaRwOqXB7JPIz8wXg8GnYFvCd4yZ7tVhYrDNsfQKzZhh6y18aYiiIS-RHX8TpJL5l0dB_y/s400/JohnPiper_Gatehouse_450.jpg" border="0" /></strong></span></a><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#663366;"><strong> <em><span style="color:#00cccc;"> John Piper</span></em></strong></span></p><p><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#663366;"><strong>Just to let you know my son is fine and is now back in England. He is an experienced traveller and has been to every country in Europe, some many times and also to most countries in what was Eastern Europe. He loves Barcelona and Madrid, but says he will never ever go to that part of Southern Spain again. He loves travelling but said he felt safer in Tel Aviv than he did in that small part of Southern Spain. He has put it down to a life experience.<br /><br /><span style="color:#00cccc;">I also have heard that our blogging friend Claire, is improving, another blogger has spoken to her and she managed to laugh and giggle a little bit, but please still keep her in your thoughts.</span></strong></span></p><br /> <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjmFs6kUta4diLZ0qTdrvdGmu0AzP63lRcy6X7D5C-LzgwRYTpZehIF08kKSNxZrlFViiR8qkTR7NZSWA-NFxFe3P2cAGcXfuytiJFDo63DCKIEik6SpFYan2FPlPgyu5EXYc3z/s1600-h/glorious.gif"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5066939821409019570" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjmFs6kUta4diLZ0qTdrvdGmu0AzP63lRcy6X7D5C-LzgwRYTpZehIF08kKSNxZrlFViiR8qkTR7NZSWA-NFxFe3P2cAGcXfuytiJFDo63DCKIEik6SpFYan2FPlPgyu5EXYc3z/s200/glorious.gif" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhU_XOBcUinQ490JNEEcHIC7BbZ0rW0t5pAjn2KKwVuBB4_hZuibcuM86j3-UGQlv51tNOuDmJBBqvAUcThtgveVNmJMeKbGdGq0oAcsekdqVbPGnE3p3ncLoD11-ynGE_hH4n9/s1600-h/Paul-Cezanne-Still-Life-with-Curtain-and-Fruit-5460+copy.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5066940040452351682" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhU_XOBcUinQ490JNEEcHIC7BbZ0rW0t5pAjn2KKwVuBB4_hZuibcuM86j3-UGQlv51tNOuDmJBBqvAUcThtgveVNmJMeKbGdGq0oAcsekdqVbPGnE3p3ncLoD11-ynGE_hH4n9/s200/Paul-Cezanne-Still-Life-with-Curtain-and-Fruit-5460+copy.jpg" border="0" /></a>Daisy Lupinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13673588364228846859noreply@blogger.com19tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28080603.post-3678559678275519352007-05-17T17:25:00.000+01:002007-05-18T01:56:38.539+01:00TRIALS AND TRIBULATIONS THAT MAKE YOU REALISE YOU MUST KEEP CELEBRATING EVERY SMALL JOY<p><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhc4jc4Mt1BpxkILrAnUv1CF7be0UYrOuKjxYe2L91jEJw4QwD1X6ztaWL7Kuy1Bnfg1DsuaiB293p1feW8cW_OkuevaSLqkJk2YTRXqRgGK1Gea5g1uF8BVai6Z_kvMJ2vPzSq/s1600-h/Herbert+Dicksee.jpg"><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#cc9933;"><strong><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5065607896215954994" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhc4jc4Mt1BpxkILrAnUv1CF7be0UYrOuKjxYe2L91jEJw4QwD1X6ztaWL7Kuy1Bnfg1DsuaiB293p1feW8cW_OkuevaSLqkJk2YTRXqRgGK1Gea5g1uF8BVai6Z_kvMJ2vPzSq/s400/Herbert+Dicksee.jpg" border="0" /></strong></span></a><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#cc9933;"><strong><br /><br />What a week it has been so far, and it is only Thursday! There was I on Monday celebrating my one year blog anniversary, by Tuesday I had had the Spanish Police on the phone to let me know my son was fine after an incident. He and his three friends were returning to their hotel when one of friends, decided to go into the bar opposite the hotel and get a couple of bottles of wine for them to drink whilst sitting on the balcony. He was set upon by two young Spaniards, one of whom tried to steal his wallet, he ran out of the bar after the guy and my son and friends on the balcony ran down to help him catch the guy. Unfortunately, the two guys suddenly turned into a crowd and there was rather a rough few minutes. Luckily it was all sorted out, but it was quite a shock at the time.<br /><br /></strong></span><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgip0_W0uH6Dm_gm9fx4D8sZdMP_-l5ABLUK5VUipKu1aoP4pIGHqkWZ78_DYyXYvhn3gUHv9lIJXT6ZP-XuXJxe8rofyg3dCOgz54o7zDEuH8VgGC-fZuMTGqKEjAef5pxNOsv/s1600-h/am-laurel-L.jpg"><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#cc9933;"><strong><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5065692442647176834" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgip0_W0uH6Dm_gm9fx4D8sZdMP_-l5ABLUK5VUipKu1aoP4pIGHqkWZ78_DYyXYvhn3gUHv9lIJXT6ZP-XuXJxe8rofyg3dCOgz54o7zDEuH8VgGC-fZuMTGqKEjAef5pxNOsv/s400/am-laurel-L.jpg" border="0" /></strong></span></a><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#cc9933;"><strong> <em> Mucha</em></strong></span></p><p><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#cc9933;"><strong>Tuesday, I sat down at the computer after breakfast and found out the terrible news about one of our <em>Glitter Sisters</em>, Claire, who, in her prime, has had a stroke. Emails and phone calls followed this news. I felt so shocked only a few weeks ago Mrs. Nesbitt, Sue, Kai, Kai's sister, Lorna, Claire and I had met up in Thirsk where we had such a lovely time getting to know each other in the real world. This lovely vibrant woman is now recovering in hospital, she has recovered her feeling in her right arm and legs, can understand and read but is having speech problems at the moment, though she should slowly get this back, though it will be long haul. We <em>English Glitter Sisters</em> do have some lovely ideas in the pipeline for her though. Please keep her in your thoughts and wish her a speedy recovery.<br /><br /></strong></span><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi6rd08UDKEvtqPFgDpSF54B93ML72aswGFwcrGZ4e2Txo19Js8sFO0mAXi35HWi9QWLn1FlRxZuKLrRJ-4tv1kuZfBCS1Ukl9vFGUsLFbQUabp8m8J1VrbD1k2av8nSVexPNPt/s1600-h/12am203.jpg"><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#cc9933;"><strong><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5065607677172622882" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi6rd08UDKEvtqPFgDpSF54B93ML72aswGFwcrGZ4e2Txo19Js8sFO0mAXi35HWi9QWLn1FlRxZuKLrRJ-4tv1kuZfBCS1Ukl9vFGUsLFbQUabp8m8J1VrbD1k2av8nSVexPNPt/s400/12am203.jpg" border="0" /></strong></span></a><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#cc9933;"><strong><br /><br /><span style="color:#00cccc;">My friend Robyn has an interesting posting on her blog today, about how she felt as if for a moment time stood still, and the earth was gathering up its energies to breathe again. This made me think about liminal times and places, and I thought you might like to know about these. Liminal comes from the Latin word <em>limen </em>meaning a threshold. Places and times that are lininal are of great importance, a sort of 'betwixt and between' space between two realities. These are supposed to be places and times when you go pass through a portal into another reality or fae creatures and spirits are at their strongest and easier to see and interact with if you dare. Everyone's personal liminal time is one that happens at least twice a night,. that is the time you fall asleep and the time you wake up. As you go to sleep you can sometimes think that you have seen strange faces or shadows and when you wake up it takes you time to remember if what is in your mind was real or what you were dreaming. I think it is one liminal time we can all relate to.<br /><br /></span></strong></span><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEinLPs9b1R8qdYMGu9mtLfiaTkfHIgUkcktQS4x63xA6sUQpUzB37oNd1opUbIEwggLA8l_4RhOnycMWOjP58UU86sKI18mYbi0LzKpSwEf5n_pRqfmH_rpWaAv4Jpnha3WrXrW/s1600-h/97_1.jpg"><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#00cccc;"><strong><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5065690269393725010" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEinLPs9b1R8qdYMGu9mtLfiaTkfHIgUkcktQS4x63xA6sUQpUzB37oNd1opUbIEwggLA8l_4RhOnycMWOjP58UU86sKI18mYbi0LzKpSwEf5n_pRqfmH_rpWaAv4Jpnha3WrXrW/s400/97_1.jpg" border="0" /></strong></span></a><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#00cccc;"><strong> If you think about liminal time, you can go from a year to a day with liminal points. In the year the liminal points are the equinoxes, the solstices, times when one season moved into another. In the day dawn and dusk, when the day is 'betwixt and between' dark and light, and also midday when it the time of no shadows and some add midnight into liminal time, the end of one day and the beginning of the next. Often I find at dawn or dusk, you get that moment of stillness, a silence unbroken by birds or beast, a time where not even a breeze stirs the leaves in the trees, when you can almost reach out and touch the heaviness of the air and silence. That is a time to stay still and peer into dark or shadowy spaces, or movments around the outer edges of your vision.<br /><br /></strong></span><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjwVWChRQEITqRmNWNsqVMv2Tf-xqY9uHh0fgT_OOEW2z9hVwxFuZixR4EfvjPxJ5-2sn3Xnb4UlXSqSzEqiWlLUbE00w1a0MrhX4-4HctB4CJldwHdAl2KUs2pHdVKCPEhxzVj/s1600-h/sacred-wood-Lbocklin.jpg"><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#00cccc;"><strong><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5065692996697958050" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjwVWChRQEITqRmNWNsqVMv2Tf-xqY9uHh0fgT_OOEW2z9hVwxFuZixR4EfvjPxJ5-2sn3Xnb4UlXSqSzEqiWlLUbE00w1a0MrhX4-4HctB4CJldwHdAl2KUs2pHdVKCPEhxzVj/s400/sacred-wood-Lbocklin.jpg" border="0" /></strong></span></a><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#00cccc;"><strong> <em><span style="color:#cc9933;"> Bocklin</span></em><br /><br />Liminal places can be covered by two types, one bound by the elements and one made by man. People often say, I just love the coast, being at the sea, it's balm to my soul, there is an extra electric feeling in the air. This is because all coast is liminal, a border between water, earth and air, a place where the air can haze, shimmer, and move. Mountain tops as well are liminal, a border between the air and earth. Druids had their own special liminal places, their oak groves, especially those near running water. I know a wood near where I live where you walk through and come across a stream winding its way over rocks with trees on either side, this is a liminal space. Waterfalls and caves can be too. You can usually feel when you are in one, you don't what it is, there is just a sort of difference in the air there, a difference in the atmosphere but you would find it hard to put your finger on exactly what it is. To hear a blackbird singing in a place like this is an extra sign, as according to the Druids the blackbird guards the portals to other worlds.<br /><br /></strong></span><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhRmMR0pYTp3KH7U0eVCoDqJDBdG6BEk7k-5YqPTwZGA-KSdSqBoaqswbcnWP5LxqLE9HrXOKsWG6TsLutIwek0cJSdTiWGaUml5fJObeFUo8fuNJqzVkGv66nNhPxqQrbfRFhh/s1600-h/malham14big.jpg"><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#00cccc;"><strong><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5065608394432161346" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhRmMR0pYTp3KH7U0eVCoDqJDBdG6BEk7k-5YqPTwZGA-KSdSqBoaqswbcnWP5LxqLE9HrXOKsWG6TsLutIwek0cJSdTiWGaUml5fJObeFUo8fuNJqzVkGv66nNhPxqQrbfRFhh/s400/malham14big.jpg" border="0" /></strong></span></a><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#cc9933;"><strong><span style="color:#00cccc;"> <em><span style="color:#cc9933;">Malham, Yorkshire</span></em><br /><br />Man made liminal places are usually crossing points, bridges, especially those crossing water are liminal places as are stepping stones. Sometimes you hear of people having a fear of bridges, and I often wonder if this is from the collective unconciousness, a knowledge of the specialness of these places. Crossroads, are also liminal, many many myths and folklore have tales involving crossroads. People were hung from them, the devil is supposed to lurk around them for lost souls and witches also gather round them. Country people like to avoid crossroads in the dark of the night.<br /><br />I am sure if you think about it we all do know some of these liminal places, and maybe think they are special but are unsure why. I think some people call these liminal places, vortexes. Also savour the atmosphere, at dawn or dusk, especially at dusk if you are sitting out in the garden on a summer night and peer carefully into the fading light</span>.<br /><br /></strong></span><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj5xZyTMdkQqWVJnG4tmydXyxQRfgXTNLgBZaauUNPGR2dAeHo9VDShq-xdpYfqX14-7n0mgPN9xLPnAq9F9VghuKLmA68pyFQZTTtDQDLeSU5CSOOFW-P8GCKlATyOFsb-kItY/s1600-h/Queen-Eleanor-Rosamund-L.jpg"><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#cc9933;"><strong><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5065692812014364306" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj5xZyTMdkQqWVJnG4tmydXyxQRfgXTNLgBZaauUNPGR2dAeHo9VDShq-xdpYfqX14-7n0mgPN9xLPnAq9F9VghuKLmA68pyFQZTTtDQDLeSU5CSOOFW-P8GCKlATyOFsb-kItY/s400/Queen-Eleanor-Rosamund-L.jpg" border="0" /></strong></span></a><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#cc9933;"><strong> <em> E De Morgan</em><br /><br />Have you noticed my new banner to my blog? Ms Robyn made this for me, and I finally deduced how to add it to my blog. Wow! I am certainly becoming a computer teckie!!!!! Also sorry if I haven't visited your blogs for a while, I know I am <em>Blogging Without</em> <em>Obligation</em>, but I don't seem to have been commenting on some for quite some time. All will be put right soon, its just I have taken a longterm swap over and have been busy sorting out themes, partners, and other communication aspects with the members. As I said in the title of this blog. I think this week makes you realise that you should appeciate the small joys of everyday and try to make more of them, life is for savouring the tiny satisfying making you happy things as well as the large occasional joys.</strong></span><br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjmkdL_1EIYWnO-HotpLHoEuom1McDz8MyzabjF0_BfLs5QDRoteiXfAFpZCIihTEo0bJhDkuLab2TQDfJrJ3lfdvcy0oQn89hVE2MJS1AzwDB8uwoMuN3gvco_loPPV35bo9tL/s1600-h/glorious.gif"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5065607191841318402" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjmkdL_1EIYWnO-HotpLHoEuom1McDz8MyzabjF0_BfLs5QDRoteiXfAFpZCIihTEo0bJhDkuLab2TQDfJrJ3lfdvcy0oQn89hVE2MJS1AzwDB8uwoMuN3gvco_loPPV35bo9tL/s200/glorious.gif" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi5y7YcMNMhTWAeXSD0GlYAitZzDrsdvp3Y0nYTCG_VLJ5PwoQldgjkyYTWrfxF9P5cCLyFKWUFCbL-vG01K_f41V5mtROc0ySpPswQDnvGdt9ACx0fMQaijatdU-a9olRWQhoN/s1600-h/Paul-Cezanne-Still-Life-with-Curtain-and-Fruit-5460+copy.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5065607565503473170" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi5y7YcMNMhTWAeXSD0GlYAitZzDrsdvp3Y0nYTCG_VLJ5PwoQldgjkyYTWrfxF9P5cCLyFKWUFCbL-vG01K_f41V5mtROc0ySpPswQDnvGdt9ACx0fMQaijatdU-a9olRWQhoN/s200/Paul-Cezanne-Still-Life-with-Curtain-and-Fruit-5460+copy.jpg" border="0" /></a> </p>Daisy Lupinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13673588364228846859noreply@blogger.com18tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28080603.post-22676941608641063422007-05-14T08:30:00.000+01:002007-05-18T01:30:31.930+01:00NOW WE ARE ONE<p><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEigcaEKgUrO7Gbqgl5rvNtLCqlzz3qaj1e3FKUssfBxDTUvVX-mkLBPuAXH1cgDs-1VrrE5UGypsH1aML4AZlECE9BjFeZdMvzD61JGI4YJyBzPjtsu9pJ0AdNKXNI61Zmxg1Z7/s1600-h/greenaway.jpg"><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#000099;"><strong><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5064345676569360306" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEigcaEKgUrO7Gbqgl5rvNtLCqlzz3qaj1e3FKUssfBxDTUvVX-mkLBPuAXH1cgDs-1VrrE5UGypsH1aML4AZlECE9BjFeZdMvzD61JGI4YJyBzPjtsu9pJ0AdNKXNI61Zmxg1Z7/s400/greenaway.jpg" border="0" /></strong></span></a><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#000099;"><strong><br /><br />One year ago today, I spent the morning setting up my blog template and falteringly working out my first posting. It was a mad spontaneous decision to start a blog. I had lurked around a few blogs to see what was out there after reading an article about them. Then my daughter phoned me full of how she was starting a blog. I just thought, 'What fun!', imagining rambling at some length to the world in general. With trepidation I put out my first posting and then with even greater bravardo left comments on a couple of blogs I really liked the look of. Then I went about the rest of the day wondering if I would get any comments, or would the world in general see fit to ignore me. Late that evening I returned to my blog, and yes, I actually had a comment. Guess who was my first commenter? Why, of course, it was someone who was to become a dear friend of mine in cyber world, Ms Robyn! After that, three more comments arrived, and there was no stopping me, my daughter never found the time to get her blog off the ground properly but here I still am!<br /><br /></strong></span><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh2Sc2DoTYs2g3q52gbOFHgU1FxC_MEpjaRbJrk4zVpSE6KyFu1CS3FO8c2w2eGTktvn35Hv39VVNF5chewS7tHc6qnV-pao8XXKUgpqrvmrTlL_lTQfarCsGyB0vDeKIihQdMk/s1600-h/tra297.jpg"><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#000099;"><strong><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5064346419598702546" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh2Sc2DoTYs2g3q52gbOFHgU1FxC_MEpjaRbJrk4zVpSE6KyFu1CS3FO8c2w2eGTktvn35Hv39VVNF5chewS7tHc6qnV-pao8XXKUgpqrvmrTlL_lTQfarCsGyB0vDeKIihQdMk/s400/tra297.jpg" border="0" /></strong></span></a><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#000099;"><strong><br />What have I learnt in my first year of blogging. So much, just so much. Mostly positive, most people are nice, but you do come across one or two who let you down. I have made friends all around the world, and actually met some of them, become a Glitter Sister, have participated in both successful and unsuccessful swaps, actually ran a couple of swaps and best of all, these two things, I have learnt so much about other people's lives and found a support network of people I can discuss life with. The most important point of my blog has been though, to break through my block of many years in my art work and send my creativity soaring again. I am creating my healing spirit dolls, my other little fripperies, altering anything from cards to books. Blogging made me decide to start my Local History Group, after writing snippets about our village history on my blog. Also with exchanging customs from other cultures, I have immersed myself deeper and deeper in my English myth, folklore, herbs and magic.<br /><br /></strong></span><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjfgUreWYeA59pS1mvNAe9mbDEiP_TmDsYd7VlAR_7ahOU9P1N60S8LvaqzdcRaCpgmdhZezOZFYzbwtqWtGXX4UoMI9uhYR98e6ESe4ChLOvM4Av13hkgvJVXcEKUvC4aQdLW1/s1600-h/LizBlackadderAbyssinianCatandSophieinvite.jpg"><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#000099;"><strong><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5064346819030661106" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjfgUreWYeA59pS1mvNAe9mbDEiP_TmDsYd7VlAR_7ahOU9P1N60S8LvaqzdcRaCpgmdhZezOZFYzbwtqWtGXX4UoMI9uhYR98e6ESe4ChLOvM4Av13hkgvJVXcEKUvC4aQdLW1/s400/LizBlackadderAbyssinianCatandSophieinvite.jpg" border="0" /></strong></span></a><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#000099;"><strong> <em><span style="color:#33ccff;">Elizabeth Blackadder</span></em></strong></span><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#000099;"><strong><br /><br />Here's to the future of communicating with you all. I am not saying I will blog for evermore, but I am happy to do so at the moment, but I do know I will always find a way to communicate my Daisy ramblings and lore to the world. Raise a glass or two of pinot grigio with me tonight to celebrate this day. [It is only breakfast time for me now!]<br /><br /></strong></span><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiuqm5pgiNHOsy2Udfe3J-hr_jGYA1VG6mq-bN7e1CdjHKBtD2jVqvsISvII-uoXTRpitL1PG3PMLlboVJSFjXIrme8ZeNcFuPYntH0t3QjdVwMEiCA2dG0zHjxgLkNuv4sV63-/s1600-h/knightspringstjohnwood.jpg"><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#000099;"><strong><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5064347845527844866" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiuqm5pgiNHOsy2Udfe3J-hr_jGYA1VG6mq-bN7e1CdjHKBtD2jVqvsISvII-uoXTRpitL1PG3PMLlboVJSFjXIrme8ZeNcFuPYntH0t3QjdVwMEiCA2dG0zHjxgLkNuv4sV63-/s400/knightspringstjohnwood.jpg" border="0" /></strong></span></a><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#000099;"><strong> <em>Laura Knight<br /></em><br /><span style="color:#33ccff;">I am looking out of the window at a cloudy sky, but in among the clouds are patches of blue, and the sun is trying to shine. I had an early morning stroll down to my garden, which is looking so verdant after all the rain, some of the plants are taking beds over, but I am rather inclined not to cull them until autumn and let this garden, be of blowsy controlled chaos this summer, just letting it teeter on the edge of wildness, not too far, just a suggestion, so you can imagine secrets hidden in the plants. And there will be secrets hidden in the plants I have been collecting up all sorts of interesting bits and pieces to put between the plants and I hope to have them all in position by the beginning of June, when weather permitting, I should have done all my serious planting. The poppies have numerous heads on them. [Don't they look like green aliens emerging from the leaves?] I will have to stake these up as poppy leaves are notoriously untidy and sprawl everywhere. My beautiful pale blue irises are waiting to open and I keep scooping up and putting in pots the marigolds that have self seeded from last year.<br /><br /></span></strong></span><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiNsuaomZH1owiBg7ATMLYMWAkQ85_ARJsCZcTDlN_4gdEtPOQw6_1bgtS6pMIIrc4X0GXIMD2YgKGw3v5FoYxLoMOkt8FVl_Dcv2mz3P2ogquIz63HZkaoJgioAKFGXDtk2lRW/s1600-h/P31724321.jpg"><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#33ccff;"><strong><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5064346608577263586" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiNsuaomZH1owiBg7ATMLYMWAkQ85_ARJsCZcTDlN_4gdEtPOQw6_1bgtS6pMIIrc4X0GXIMD2YgKGw3v5FoYxLoMOkt8FVl_Dcv2mz3P2ogquIz63HZkaoJgioAKFGXDtk2lRW/s400/P31724321.jpg" border="0" /></strong></span></a><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#000099;"><strong><span style="color:#33ccff;"><br />Tara from <em>Silver Apples of the Moon</em>, sent me some herb seeds in the autumn and they have germinated nicely and are pushing up out of the soil in their pots. All the way from her garden in America to my cottage. I have taken delivery of four giant bags of bark chipping to recover the path between the stepping stones, and to seriously cover where the table and chairs reside. I do feel everything is happening a couple of weeks earlier this year, and hope that my garden will be able to maintain its freshness throughout the summer. Even the bedding plants are taking off earlier, I just hope that they are not finished too soon, such as before August is out.</span><br /><br /></strong></span><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjytQNqRcwfNJje22SfXOuGc0j_kD4ywELVOE0zwTqjF_583EK4vcqk0dYVP7HlxJW2XtfoF1xdPtbWzpd0tru8YnvokpVxW94oyP0EsT3lR2G1F_WZ1jefO1ifZm77K1yv4AJL/s1600-h/trd214.jpg"><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#000099;"><strong><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5064346243505043394" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjytQNqRcwfNJje22SfXOuGc0j_kD4ywELVOE0zwTqjF_583EK4vcqk0dYVP7HlxJW2XtfoF1xdPtbWzpd0tru8YnvokpVxW94oyP0EsT3lR2G1F_WZ1jefO1ifZm77K1yv4AJL/s400/trd214.jpg" border="0" /></strong></span></a><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#000099;"><strong><br />Other items of interest to me at the moment, I am currently reading the new Barbara Erksine book, Daughters of Fire, which goes between present day Edinburgh and Yorkshire and Celtic times in those two places. I have decided as well to make a summer project of re-reading some of Thomas Hardy and reading one or two of his I have never got round to reading. I love Thomas Hardy's more rural books, especially <em>Tess of the</em> <em>D'Urbervilles</em>, a tragic soulful rural tale. This was also made into a brilliant film a good few years ago by Roman Polanski. I have spent a couple of classical evenings listening to Chopin's Nocturnes, balm to the soul, soothing yet stark, conjuring up wonderful images. Also I have been dipping back into old Paul Simon, you sometimes just forget what wonderful lyrics he writes.<br /><br /></strong></span><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgUV-V-jB1nEDyyjr1AkJbd-IR494Y4xjiZJDImo5x6Ki_4jfjiexBMje6BY8p4sK9LUhsSgDGJeHrnOjYc45okqX3DD4f6Hzc18vt0bcQWpsx0FP9u5Y1I3MgSHMsMwKat-4bL/s1600-h/jameswhistler2.jpg"><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#000099;"><strong><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5064348103225882642" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgUV-V-jB1nEDyyjr1AkJbd-IR494Y4xjiZJDImo5x6Ki_4jfjiexBMje6BY8p4sK9LUhsSgDGJeHrnOjYc45okqX3DD4f6Hzc18vt0bcQWpsx0FP9u5Y1I3MgSHMsMwKat-4bL/s400/jameswhistler2.jpg" border="0" /></strong></span></a><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#ffcc00;"><strong><span style="color:#000099;"> <em><span style="color:#33ccff;">James Whistler</span></em><br /><br />Once again, don't forget to raise a glass with me tonight for <em>Cats in the Kitchen Flora in</em> <em>the Garden</em> is one year old today.</span><br /></strong></span><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj9xT8LiipW7sBWI0QRSSJGJexWBS2qakJHDF2IjpRvDzd3h4KgthccV0oknQUdB0fmKIk-1NAwStqcamCagq5Bek9vs50kCQHIxRVFmJzgV-mM6zH2OrYGrOYTyjkQNaYNyw2A/s1600-h/glorious.gif"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5064344581352699794" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj9xT8LiipW7sBWI0QRSSJGJexWBS2qakJHDF2IjpRvDzd3h4KgthccV0oknQUdB0fmKIk-1NAwStqcamCagq5Bek9vs50kCQHIxRVFmJzgV-mM6zH2OrYGrOYTyjkQNaYNyw2A/s200/glorious.gif" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiChFf16WjmS9SeDxxcHOTm9dWyLdQrybcEHfcqh7doji4a_nwAwUK16d1DM95NAeXjwXqVUNZje4JF8zb4HToc3haeWWY_RhfI4Y5VPEaAhmTgW0qymGjqdq5BkvcvkLqSJQV_/s1600-h/Paul-Cezanne-Still-Life-with-Curtain-and-Fruit-5460+copy.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5064345414576355234" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiChFf16WjmS9SeDxxcHOTm9dWyLdQrybcEHfcqh7doji4a_nwAwUK16d1DM95NAeXjwXqVUNZje4JF8zb4HToc3haeWWY_RhfI4Y5VPEaAhmTgW0qymGjqdq5BkvcvkLqSJQV_/s200/Paul-Cezanne-Still-Life-with-Curtain-and-Fruit-5460+copy.jpg" border="0" /></a> </p>Daisy Lupinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13673588364228846859noreply@blogger.com21tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28080603.post-55149372570114277822007-05-11T08:27:00.000+01:002007-05-11T10:50:04.233+01:00THE MONTH OF THE HAWTHORN<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiYLYZ_xWPIAChS9zGNHoT6KPOabkwMXPftCrPo7Fw1OPThrti-VpSeU_YDHkZzbk2bwQVFnmF7Ybryby8p1T1AW6rej2H_Xdu1QsxIlzXC-L0XYxv-TnMFPJiZvouQEGy0Y8Nz/s1600-h/webres_Hawthorn%2520or%2520May%2520blossom%2520Crataegus%2520monogyna%2520nr%2520Carreg%2520Cennen%252013_5_03%2520DSCN8565.jpg"><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#009900;"><strong><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5063232481175778978" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiYLYZ_xWPIAChS9zGNHoT6KPOabkwMXPftCrPo7Fw1OPThrti-VpSeU_YDHkZzbk2bwQVFnmF7Ybryby8p1T1AW6rej2H_Xdu1QsxIlzXC-L0XYxv-TnMFPJiZvouQEGy0Y8Nz/s400/webres_Hawthorn%2520or%2520May%2520blossom%2520Crataegus%2520monogyna%2520nr%2520Carreg%2520Cennen%252013_5_03%2520DSCN8565.jpg" border="0" /></strong></span></a><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#009900;"><strong><br /></strong></span><div><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#009900;"><strong>It is almost the start of a new month in the Celtic year. On 13th May, we will enter the month of Huath, the Hawthorn. This tree, though in England it is used as hedging and can be more like a shrub, is also known as Maybush, Maytree, Thorn bush. It is one of the important triad of trees, Oak, Ash, and Thorn, and it is said that when those three species grow together if you are quiet and patient you may be able to see the faeries. Also to fall asleep under a blossoming Hawthorn, is a risky thing to do, you may be captured by the faeries and whisked away to their lands never to be seen again.<br /><br /></strong></span><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiRKWWpDGop6Q5f8XEeaQaOiERWrpQevf3JpfuvAjSTSQ0ElZt6yoUjqodYmi97FJBhhRKdZG3LBBHavIw0vBrc_ePqY0n_EKeNqfkCKZfoW7ywNhGIZHdo0hOSNf_EbSEWTdIN/s1600-h/Hawthorn3.jpg"><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#009900;"><strong><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5063233275744728786" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiRKWWpDGop6Q5f8XEeaQaOiERWrpQevf3JpfuvAjSTSQ0ElZt6yoUjqodYmi97FJBhhRKdZG3LBBHavIw0vBrc_ePqY0n_EKeNqfkCKZfoW7ywNhGIZHdo0hOSNf_EbSEWTdIN/s400/Hawthorn3.jpg" border="0" /></strong></span></a><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#009900;"><strong><br /><br />The Greeks and Romans saw the Hawthorn as a symbol of hope and marriage, yet in later times, Europeans considered it a bush that was associated with witchcraft. These two contradictory sides to the meaning of Hawthorn, mirror the bush itself, with its dangerous thorns and beautiful blossoms. It is unlucky to cut the flowering Hawthorn and bring it into the home before Maytime, but hawthorn has many uses in the home. If it is hung from the rafters it will keep evil spirits away. To hang a branch of Hawthorn on the roof of your house is said to protect your home from lightening. It is also used hanging from the roof of the milking parlous to make sure the cows continue to be happy and give large yields of milk. The wood of Hawthorn also makes one of the hottest fires and it burns well. Beware, though, if wanting to use the wood of Hawthorn you must never cut it while it is flowering. To cut a flowering Hawthorn branch to use or burn the wood, is to upset the fae and they will take their revenge on you. Many Country people plant a Hawthorn bush outside their homes, also as protection, though it has been heard that a witch has the ability to hide in the shape of a Hawthorn. A thorn from the Hawthorn bush can be carried in a pouch to ward off depression, and is also supposed to be good luck when fishing. Hawthorn has an affinity with water and is often planted next to sacred wells, especially in Ireland where you can see rags, and strips of material hanging from the tree where people have asked for favours.<br /><br /></strong></span><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgKdSXJdpG-9ZIu1JfOnf-d2tlUddwsFa7Al_MehXRMTUE1GRxnxu8Ouz5O4n3wkOQO-abDW4lxXS0oZkVW6qckpLPjuZj-SKKaizBhQgt-7hVJ8FmZfRSjDod_1aO9by6TrjH1/s1600-h/nash.jpg"><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#009900;"><strong><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5063234096083482354" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgKdSXJdpG-9ZIu1JfOnf-d2tlUddwsFa7Al_MehXRMTUE1GRxnxu8Ouz5O4n3wkOQO-abDW4lxXS0oZkVW6qckpLPjuZj-SKKaizBhQgt-7hVJ8FmZfRSjDod_1aO9by6TrjH1/s400/nash.jpg" border="0" /></strong></span></a><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#009900;"><strong> <em><span style="color:#ccccff;"> </span><span style="color:#9999ff;">Paul Nash</span></em><br /><br />Herbally, berries, bark, seeds, branches and flowers are used. The berries are a cardiac tonic, but they must be mixed with other herbs to dilute its potency. Please do not try to make this tea if you are inexperienced, it really does depend on the other herbs in it as well. Its leaves and blossoms can be brewed to create a tea to aid anxiety, and poor ciculation. Hawthorn can be used for health, prosperity, protection, love and marriage, purity, cleansing, happiness and to lose old habits and dusty old ideas.</strong></span><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEheL3oSb5IUruKsqqQpe1eemuRXViCvPlql-DvhPZi_O14PKzth61mpiU-sGvkwsjzlLykSxHf4VGnVXf7kGQ7QdeXPct52JdVl2monOJSHuh15xHY9n6cOaeezVQOD3cEbEFgp/s1600-h/lev285b.jpg"><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#009900;"><strong><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5063233834090477282" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEheL3oSb5IUruKsqqQpe1eemuRXViCvPlql-DvhPZi_O14PKzth61mpiU-sGvkwsjzlLykSxHf4VGnVXf7kGQ7QdeXPct52JdVl2monOJSHuh15xHY9n6cOaeezVQOD3cEbEFgp/s400/lev285b.jpg" border="0" /></strong></span></a><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#009900;"><strong> <em><span style="color:#9999ff;">John Piper</span></em><br /><br />Village cottages would be decked with Hawthorn on Mayday and the Maypole often had a crown of the same. Some villages would have branches of flowering Hawthorn that they would carry from door to door, bestowing blessings on all the village homes. Kissing balls and Mayday crowns also incorporated Hawthorn, and these crowns would be left at the end of Mayday under Hawthorn trees for the faeries to reclaim.<br /><br /></strong></span><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgS-fZ2qkarhyphenhyphenRbZobBXDvDrWaj1H1PYwEz0No6ZW5AeoBRslA-g9GP-eYhT2kjN4yvH9piVH5mb3dSonkgbJNkZBx853cf2M34jK5DilDG1EyDV7Bk6mY1F6cYHlZ08jAMGTV5/s1600-h/p166.jpg"><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#009900;"><strong><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5063232730283882162" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgS-fZ2qkarhyphenhyphenRbZobBXDvDrWaj1H1PYwEz0No6ZW5AeoBRslA-g9GP-eYhT2kjN4yvH9piVH5mb3dSonkgbJNkZBx853cf2M34jK5DilDG1EyDV7Bk6mY1F6cYHlZ08jAMGTV5/s400/p166.jpg" border="0" /></strong></span></a><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#009900;"><strong><br /><span style="color:#9999ff;">Our weather has now settled back into its normal pattern of early May, heavy showers and gusts of wind. These wild gusts of wind come from a local wind that blows at this time of year, it is known as the Helm Wind. It is a wind that develops, a curious pbenomenon that occurs along several miles of the local fells. Though we just get the tale end of it in our village.<br />The helm wind is a strong, blustery easterly wind that descends the western slope of the Cross Fell Range in Cumbria, northern Enlgand. It roars as it gusts and seems to be able to penetrate the smallest gaps and make your house chill. In certain years it has been so strong that it has wrongly been called a hurricane. A predictor of this wind is the helmet or cap of a certain type of cloud that forms above Cross Fell escarpement itself.</span><br /><br /></strong></span><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiflaxAmGSK8Y-QV8gSoKReT3VIVZFNiGxJBDoBN515eZvnk1Xu2GgtepKjV2YYjfVeJ8i9mLMIo01BWt8XjPyQiAl2yDSeE39b0fpFxEm9Pqt2Ne4zdX-RihMG4wJXu-gvzXyi/s1600-h/Henri-Matisse-Dahlias-25541.jpg"><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#009900;"><strong><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5063233005161789122" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiflaxAmGSK8Y-QV8gSoKReT3VIVZFNiGxJBDoBN515eZvnk1Xu2GgtepKjV2YYjfVeJ8i9mLMIo01BWt8XjPyQiAl2yDSeE39b0fpFxEm9Pqt2Ne4zdX-RihMG4wJXu-gvzXyi/s400/Henri-Matisse-Dahlias-25541.jpg" border="0" /></strong></span></a><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#009900;"><strong> <em><span style="color:#009900;">Matisse<br /></span></em><br /><span style="color:#9999ff;">Even between the showers, when the sun comes out and the clouds scud across the sky, it is too gusty and blowy to chance doing anything in the garden. Luckily none or my plants are large enough to have been damaged, apart from the honeysuckle its wire backing has been partly ripped from the wall. I am hoping for a good weekend to sort that problem out. Today I am determined to sort my desk in my workroom which is an absolute disgrace, and I must get Sweetpea's bedroom put to rights [I have been storing things in there] and after she has been to Jamaica, at the beginning of June, she will be coming to stay for a few days in the middle of June. So the bad weather is the perfect excuse to sort out her room and make it welcoming again. I know when the weather gets better, I will make any excuse to put off doing her room and to spend my time in the garden.</span><br /><br /></strong></span><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhpa-PjfrqAkzzizKUCYHOnyKNfcMrnBwWXVq-tgzDIHtl6viMDH3o57Xt20zzNRAVFJJ6IHo1jTgLM-3rxCUDj8rzXvlY5QcrsWqcU3NkX4QnNpC7ZYkwLq33o894RpBBUYCP_/s1600-h/Paul-Cezanne-Still-Life-with-Curtain-and-Fruit-5460+copy.jpg"><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#009900;"><strong><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5063232352326760082" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhpa-PjfrqAkzzizKUCYHOnyKNfcMrnBwWXVq-tgzDIHtl6viMDH3o57Xt20zzNRAVFJJ6IHo1jTgLM-3rxCUDj8rzXvlY5QcrsWqcU3NkX4QnNpC7ZYkwLq33o894RpBBUYCP_/s200/Paul-Cezanne-Still-Life-with-Curtain-and-Fruit-5460+copy.jpg" border="0" /></strong></span></a><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#009900;"><strong><br />By the way, if anyone wants to take my 'Greedy Juicy Summer' banner and use it as a badge on their sidebar that's fine by me. The painting is a still life by Cezanne and is not copyrighted and the words are mine.</strong></span></div><br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgiiiiRswZRIW-dP1vIWVmFJOCjYg-hk4EhXrBj1g12pIbVw1mEhiovNKk-s8fkcL3-5rlf13OBLWPet1uelPdPWPdUNI4ZzSMdGTB33qEM4LJ7LO29lhKZgn71-n2alfpnYiE3/s1600-h/glorious.gif"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5063231686606829186" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgiiiiRswZRIW-dP1vIWVmFJOCjYg-hk4EhXrBj1g12pIbVw1mEhiovNKk-s8fkcL3-5rlf13OBLWPet1uelPdPWPdUNI4ZzSMdGTB33qEM4LJ7LO29lhKZgn71-n2alfpnYiE3/s200/glorious.gif" border="0" /></a>Daisy Lupinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13673588364228846859noreply@blogger.com14tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28080603.post-55069138335444147412007-05-08T18:46:00.000+01:002007-05-08T23:53:50.600+01:00HERE'S TO A GREEDY, JUICY,LEARNING SUMMER OF PERSONAL DELIGHTS<p><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEix8Y4tYyY2Kp-jNAUxpEsdVm5ES4SH3XHp9FrfTLNB4i2gX_lsCZ4R9k_1a_KrYuT6qE5NZ_TGH_flu-tyzzZQ6bAmm8seMOE_Rl9rhATiE5HhBbr-kb8BARjWXCbkF-51iC9N/s1600-h/SPENCER,-Stanley--Interior-.jpg"><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#ff99ff;"><strong><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5062319216509826626" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEix8Y4tYyY2Kp-jNAUxpEsdVm5ES4SH3XHp9FrfTLNB4i2gX_lsCZ4R9k_1a_KrYuT6qE5NZ_TGH_flu-tyzzZQ6bAmm8seMOE_Rl9rhATiE5HhBbr-kb8BARjWXCbkF-51iC9N/s400/SPENCER,-Stanley--Interior-.jpg" border="0" /></strong></span></a><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#ff99ff;"><strong> <em><span style="color:#663300;"> Stanley Spencer</span></em><br /><br />At long last by the end of last week I had finished all my outstanding swap committments. All that is left is the ongoing <em>Hello Dolly Swap</em> and a healing doll, I promised someone, and even these two dolls are now at the actually being made stage. The little grey cloud rumbling above my head in a thundery manner started to disperse once I had posted, my <em>woodland sprite</em>, my <em>crow chunky pages</em> and my <em>Shhhh! project.</em> Sometimes I find that group projects, seem to stifle my creativity in my own art for art's sake. I become so aware of not letting a group down and my responsibility to the those people, that I actually seem to freeze when I want to involve myself in personal work.<br /><br /></strong></span><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjkSnkON9MIqqfsq6Gsnfrhkn62pyIcBuK3oD9ZlLU3FSBRlZFToIszgMrq0JaQ_vB4wB3JCDRw6SeZqSALH4iPCujoQ_MmHq9-Wir3Oup8yPhXy0nAjiEBwvX04mzLvRYnAfKC/s1600-h/PMP164_400.gif"><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#ff99ff;"><strong><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5062319581582046802" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjkSnkON9MIqqfsq6Gsnfrhkn62pyIcBuK3oD9ZlLU3FSBRlZFToIszgMrq0JaQ_vB4wB3JCDRw6SeZqSALH4iPCujoQ_MmHq9-Wir3Oup8yPhXy0nAjiEBwvX04mzLvRYnAfKC/s400/PMP164_400.gif" border="0" /></strong></span></a><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#ff99ff;"><strong> <span style="color:#ff99ff;"> <em>Laura Knight</em></span><br /><br /><span style="color:#663300;">I have decided, and I know that some of you know about this, as I have mentioned it in a couple of emails, that I am drawing back from group swaps for a while, apart from the one that is still ongoing. I am going to concentrate on my art and probably just get involved in one to one's and RAKs. I was stretched out in too many ways before, with the amount of swaps. For now I want to concentrate on my art, my garden, my history research, my blog and putting more time aside for my favourite occupation reading. I want to have a greedy, juicy, learning summer of personal delights. I fully intend to make myself a banner saying just that 'Here's to the greedy, juicy, learning summer of personal delights'. Raise a glass with me to that and have one too. What fun we can have in the autumn revealing what we gained through these months. Southern Hemisphere, do the same with Winter using suitable winter words.<br /></span><br /></strong></span><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhW44rkdwFj4WuZcrU37FNJy95yMRLjEipuSlyhdR0wLwQ3GT5vgecTwWhaopxC9ayJ3LqtQ8SkoYULx7xyCemM8njwYO_-BbnZ128w6tHB_lKHWPVEeuE18jyVlb24u-t4-BRH/s1600-h/Paul-Cezanne-Still-Life-with-Curtain-and-Fruit-5460copy.jpg"><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#ff99ff;"><strong><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5062318898682246706" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhW44rkdwFj4WuZcrU37FNJy95yMRLjEipuSlyhdR0wLwQ3GT5vgecTwWhaopxC9ayJ3LqtQ8SkoYULx7xyCemM8njwYO_-BbnZ128w6tHB_lKHWPVEeuE18jyVlb24u-t4-BRH/s400/Paul-Cezanne-Still-Life-with-Curtain-and-Fruit-5460copy.jpg" border="0" /></strong></span></a><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#ff99ff;"><strong><br /><br />You note I have a new sidebar item that advertises National Faery Day on 24th June, if you click on it you should be taken to the site and you can choose one for your own blog. There are lots of things going on around that time, such as in Bodmin in Cornwall, a three day faery<br />festival. I'm sure we can all think of lots of lovely things to do to celebrate this day.<br /><br /></strong></span><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjm7iZC8KHIsaqCmFNEt9I9u1AU1KiAq2modqpH__uCRMWRee3kxuDcbz85C7hBJDFQ231kD4jeKrJgsodL0LAkUJjxHek9AQexwLmxQyoGF4gag-8NEgOEG4lkHvfyMIDznTN9/s1600-h/fairyday7.jpg"><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#ff99ff;"><strong><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5062321965288896114" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjm7iZC8KHIsaqCmFNEt9I9u1AU1KiAq2modqpH__uCRMWRee3kxuDcbz85C7hBJDFQ231kD4jeKrJgsodL0LAkUJjxHek9AQexwLmxQyoGF4gag-8NEgOEG4lkHvfyMIDznTN9/s400/fairyday7.jpg" border="0" /></strong></span></a><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#ff99ff;"><strong><br /><br /><span style="color:#663300;">A very good friend of mine from the blogs, and I have been talking about Druids and Driudism recently. This is really quite apt as the doll the<em> Hello Dolly</em> Group are making this month is a Celtic Goddess. Druidism is fascinating, and has reinvented itself many times throughout history. Basically it is similar, I think to wicca, and to various pantheistic religions [ one with many gods and goddesses, often associated with nature, eg rivers, trees, rocks]. It is also a belief that really looks after our Earth. Listed below are the main attributes of certain types of Druidism</span>.<br /><br /></strong></span><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiBFGBdvnvLrPLPJnuIkWyyiA1lT-yrI-q-w2ezn5Ea41TkGLAs3OefSmRcXmQHOzjgCM_QeP4m2ECXyEtRYkpM6_J8L7bB7tcoPB03f-jfr8IlZ1k7pD3wj0FFhDJP2RWcEQIz/s1600-h/66.jpg"><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#ff99ff;"><strong><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5062318168537806354" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiBFGBdvnvLrPLPJnuIkWyyiA1lT-yrI-q-w2ezn5Ea41TkGLAs3OefSmRcXmQHOzjgCM_QeP4m2ECXyEtRYkpM6_J8L7bB7tcoPB03f-jfr8IlZ1k7pD3wj0FFhDJP2RWcEQIz/s400/66.jpg" border="0" /></strong></span></a><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#ff99ff;"><strong> <em>John Piper<br /></em><br /><span style="color:#663300;">~Love of Peace~ Love of Beauty - the bard and artists within~ Love of Justice - non punitive justice and law ~Love of Story and Myth - the power of mythology~ Love of History and Reverence for Ancestors~ Love of Trees - sacred groves and study of treelore~ Love of Stones - stone circles and crystals~ Love of Truth - wisdom~ Love of Animals - druidry sees animals as sacred ~ Love of the Body~ Love of the Sun, Moon and Stars~ Love of Life.<br /></span><br /></strong></span><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj3cfh8pfW70ULSd7ZrVcVC-UAEsRTRW-SNXIg0XC-MiEHDs1zmP5eHcKlTzXzNmgErdnYvY4yMk-vHl-pHWM0Xtq1tx97klIIV9FaZzjCLVTBhsAx37E4A58phV0bwcLW3Jr14/s1600-h/jill+worthington.jpg"><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#ff99ff;"><strong><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5062318512135190050" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj3cfh8pfW70ULSd7ZrVcVC-UAEsRTRW-SNXIg0XC-MiEHDs1zmP5eHcKlTzXzNmgErdnYvY4yMk-vHl-pHWM0Xtq1tx97klIIV9FaZzjCLVTBhsAx37E4A58phV0bwcLW3Jr14/s400/jill+worthington.jpg" border="0" /></strong></span></a><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#ff99ff;"><strong> <em>Jill Worthington<br /></em><br /><span style="color:#663300;">The Druids came from pre-Celtic times and by Celtic times had a long history of lore and beliefs. It they had any written words they have been destroyed long before then and a lot of our information about them come from Roman writers, such as Julius Caesar. The Druids, deified elments of nature, such as the moon, stars and sun, and looked to them for signs and seasons. The also held as holy natural elements such as. rivers, lakes, tops of hills, groves, trees, and plants. Fire was regarded as a symbol of several divinities and was associated with the sun and cleansing. The calendar was governeed by the lunar, solar and vegetative cycles. There were three categories the Bards, who knew the songs and stories of their people, the Ovates who were gifted with second sight, and were the seers and healers and the Druids who were the philospohers, judges and teachers. There was much maligning of the Druids by certain Romans and talk of human blood sacrifices though some of what is written must surely be taken as anti Druid propaganda. It took many years of learning to become a Druid and it was open to both men and women. I feel aspects of it mix in well with wicca and solitary hedgewitchery, it also brings back to us the importance of never losing our traditions and lore, our history and beginnings are what makes us the people we are. Even in today's age of technology we should never forget how to use the oral storytelling tradition</span>.<br /></strong></span><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh2RlhK3nOPw2gwGcf4vC3z4Z6x1tR7QFxePPji8LEtaNHxr1P_Qa5t227FjyGq_actBYbjBzJK5qeSps6dPFInhdDfExTG083bFcUArkQ34tk5qhWqH704FpjTLmUWv5Ksg1p-/s1600-h/glorious.gif"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5062318056868656642" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh2RlhK3nOPw2gwGcf4vC3z4Z6x1tR7QFxePPji8LEtaNHxr1P_Qa5t227FjyGq_actBYbjBzJK5qeSps6dPFInhdDfExTG083bFcUArkQ34tk5qhWqH704FpjTLmUWv5Ksg1p-/s200/glorious.gif" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhn39KaF1hvYiY5zXUAg2rQEL2m0MYd1FAj4JDc5Zh10S5A-IGzBlzsMRKH51ABGvL8vccREOw6XeZA9rMxIPVW-z-EqM2V3MdY6Rf5OkGYoTaZ39fPVX8EVfVScm0czvYCSs1K/s1600-h/Paul-Cezanne-Still-Life-with-Curtain-and-Fruit-5460+copy.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5062321724770727522" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhn39KaF1hvYiY5zXUAg2rQEL2m0MYd1FAj4JDc5Zh10S5A-IGzBlzsMRKH51ABGvL8vccREOw6XeZA9rMxIPVW-z-EqM2V3MdY6Rf5OkGYoTaZ39fPVX8EVfVScm0czvYCSs1K/s200/Paul-Cezanne-Still-Life-with-Curtain-and-Fruit-5460+copy.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /></p>Daisy Lupinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13673588364228846859noreply@blogger.com17tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28080603.post-22963587606163399732007-05-04T13:52:00.000+01:002007-05-04T19:02:00.642+01:00I SOMETIMES MUSE ON GIVING A WRONG IMPRESSION<p align="left"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjQ31TE6Kx2f68Iw13xfndCrAHBaiMDJiKvj6VXz2-AxKlJqxNzo-rdcYvNBCIJI7Ylvm8w1lWd9Zoam4MbS6l0MQCmFJXca4fx8YwvBtEyVdUdfaBZqhryv90HH8SR3vt5GyO8/s1600-h/art_pa18.jpg"><strong><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#666600;"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5060755668025456050" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjQ31TE6Kx2f68Iw13xfndCrAHBaiMDJiKvj6VXz2-AxKlJqxNzo-rdcYvNBCIJI7Ylvm8w1lWd9Zoam4MbS6l0MQCmFJXca4fx8YwvBtEyVdUdfaBZqhryv90HH8SR3vt5GyO8/s400/art_pa18.jpg" border="0" /></span></strong></a><strong><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#666600;"> <em><span style="color:#ffcc66;">Madonna Lilies ~ Stanley Spencer</span></em><br /><br />I sometimes muse whether I make my life in the country sound like too much of an idyll. Yes, it is idyllic but there are downsides as well. sometimes I think that despite the photographs I have published occasionally people paint their own mind picture which is different to the reality. Villages come in all shapes and sizes, and with many different features depending in which area of England you are in. Some villages have village greens and/or duck ponds, though many have lost their village greens by now to development. Architecturally villages differ immensley throughout England as well, you can go from hardy grey granite to chocolate box thatched cottages.<br /><br />I thought I would like to try to get across to you exactly what it is like to live in my village in the North of England. First let me say that to me, any village living is better than living in the city. My village is rural, the nearest town is just over six miles away, but as years pass I can see the town encroaching ever nearer the village, I would think twenty years ago that the town would probably be about seven miles, but its outskirts are ever widening. If I had to move again, I would be happy to move even more rural to the point of being an isolated house somewhere, though I would have to have communication with the outside world, I am definitely too chatty to be a hermit.<br /><br /></span></strong><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjTZdOSCtchUoywU3hnsb5rBT_WphjZIGJTXFcNZSS9O-86Q1Tu8IMn0lA9JnZGaWw3hyphenhyphenevVBpI8PCVtoTPWLaaIW_MQ7EKRELxbTGan6yfVg8nSz692jnxevF58ydAWnGMZgaJ/s1600-h/nash_summer_solstice.jpg"><strong><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#666600;"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5060755942903363010" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjTZdOSCtchUoywU3hnsb5rBT_WphjZIGJTXFcNZSS9O-86Q1Tu8IMn0lA9JnZGaWw3hyphenhyphenevVBpI8PCVtoTPWLaaIW_MQ7EKRELxbTGan6yfVg8nSz692jnxevF58ydAWnGMZgaJ/s400/nash_summer_solstice.jpg" border="0" /></span></strong></a><strong><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#666600;"> <em><span style="color:#ffcc66;">Spring Solstice ~ Paul Nash</span></em><br /><br />Our village itself has grown from a long street with some small offshoots until over the past sixty or so years there have been four small developments tacked on at various times.<br />The biggest downside is that the A road to Newcastle, the nearest large city, sixty miles away, cuts right through the main street of the village. Obviously as the years go by the traffic becomes worse and worse, although a bypass has been talked about for years. From the west you approach our village over an arched sandstone bridge over the River Eden. This is a fine sturdy bridge, but was certainly not built for articulated lorries using it as a short cut, also the terrible floods we had a couple of years ago have washed lumps of the sandstone stanchions away. Everyone complains about the traffic rushing through the village, especially as the pavements are narrow and old fashioned and there is a bad bend where numerous accidents have happened. Our cottage is on this main street, but luckily we are double glazed and in the garden at the back, the big barn plays tricks with the acoustics and the traffic noise is not too loud and doesn't detract from the joy of the garden and the birdsong.<br /><br /></span></strong><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEipLn5fwl74PWc9_IhIxzbp4BxNb60f2lVtDh_zA46gHL87XR8H-YIkDMqIJ3exgOcLRWsYia1_9dcxunARUVmB4fiaCf7ID_7AzT1LOGc85Zh_h21Bdps-AUkzqRsZZsdZcZDC/s1600-h/sennancove.bmp"><strong><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#ffcc66;"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5060756196306433490" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEipLn5fwl74PWc9_IhIxzbp4BxNb60f2lVtDh_zA46gHL87XR8H-YIkDMqIJ3exgOcLRWsYia1_9dcxunARUVmB4fiaCf7ID_7AzT1LOGc85Zh_h21Bdps-AUkzqRsZZsdZcZDC/s400/sennancove.bmp" border="0" /></span></strong></a><strong><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#666600;"><span style="color:#ffcc66;"> <em>Autumn Sunlight at Sennen Cove [Cornwall] Laura Knight</em></span><br /><br />The old buildings are all built from a rich red sandstone, a stone that wears away very easily as it is a soft stone, especially in our polluted world sandstone gets eroded very easily. Our barn is of this beautiful sandstone. Our cottage on the otherhand, has been faced and is painted, the next door cottage has been too. We have no village green, but we do have a church with a steeple and an old graveyard, in fact, we have two churches, with graveyards, the Church of England church and the Catholic church. The upside is I can walk out of my door and within a couple of minutes be on a quiet country road and turn off onto a bridle way. Occasionally, the village has a mild panic when there is a rumour that someone is selling more land off for development, but luckily so far, these have just been rumours, as I do believe our infrastructure and cannot take any more homes. We have a village school that is full to capacity, in fact, a few children in previous years have had to go to the next village school.<br /><br /></span></strong><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjyqQbbuKbVLQC6zu2L-mAP3kPhi5A_ca2E7caMFjzw2xZx4tTMtnCGr5lBk_y4oTRLq2VbA01UA7iRMUjYEpctCRs4CSPlXBBsRhpLxrSRwK7cTv4PhBr6EAxO8JbLLVc929__/s1600-h/sketches%2520insects%2520fig%25204b.jpg"><strong><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#666600;"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5060756368105125346" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjyqQbbuKbVLQC6zu2L-mAP3kPhi5A_ca2E7caMFjzw2xZx4tTMtnCGr5lBk_y4oTRLq2VbA01UA7iRMUjYEpctCRs4CSPlXBBsRhpLxrSRwK7cTv4PhBr6EAxO8JbLLVc929__/s400/sketches%2520insects%2520fig%25204b.jpg" border="0" /></span></strong></a><strong><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#666600;"><br />I would also hate you to think that every moment of my life is perfect, and I spend my days pottering around my garden, in floaty skirts [thought I often do drape a shawl round myself and I suppose at times I do tend to gypsy skirts] musing on the missel thrush on the wall. It often is, but I also have the mundane tasks to perform, the changing of beds, the washing, the cleaning. There are days when I feel stressed and am just happy to come home to the cottage and close the front door behind me and give a sigh of relief. There are days when I can feel slightly down, and a little bit grumpy, this usually makes me realise I have been overdoing things 'burning the candle at both ends' as my Mother would say. It is just I try to find extra bliss in all the small things that make my day enjoyable. Silly little things like the feel of my old straw hat on head when I am gardening, the blackbird that is not frightened of me and sits near my feet if I am quiet with a worm in his beak. The sun shimmering through the silver birch leaves, and later at twilight sitting out in the garden as the stars switch on in the sky and the tiny bats come out from the derelict barn down the lane and dart hither and thither. Or on colder evenings sitting in my living room with the rich smell of incense burning, candles flickering glad to be inside. At the moment my most blissful moments are waking just as the first note of the dawn chorus rings out and lying in bed listening as more and more birds join in then turning over and going back to sleep. Some mornings I even get up for a cup of herbal tea and listen to them before returning to bed.<br /><br /></span></strong><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj0ADBN3F_K2NkWoT1jPiTsbPdn288XKxkCundr4742w6K4N_Q7yIPbhyCnNR0CFURean3bFSCY19Q4rwkOVR1rx-7Hwq0kwIxu5UYm5uoWm-ph-qZI3Kj5uM9aQZTkOdbjfTQM/s1600-h/jdd149-123.jpg"><strong><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#666600;"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5060759340222494194" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj0ADBN3F_K2NkWoT1jPiTsbPdn288XKxkCundr4742w6K4N_Q7yIPbhyCnNR0CFURean3bFSCY19Q4rwkOVR1rx-7Hwq0kwIxu5UYm5uoWm-ph-qZI3Kj5uM9aQZTkOdbjfTQM/s400/jdd149-123.jpg" border="0" /></span></strong></a><strong><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#666600;"><br /><span style="color:#ffcc66;">Today has been a lovely day, the sun has been shining after a cool start and I have been busy planting a lot of my bedding plants and rearranging pots in the garden. I am just at the point where I know I still have a bit to do, but the plan and arrangements are clear in my mind and I have done enough to look around the garden and see some small points of perfection. When I was sitting having a break, I decided I must try to keep an eye on the insect population this year, especially after reading the article about the bees. I have seen one bee, quite a few ladybird and one butterfly. My husband is also concerned about the sandmartins, this year there are not as many of them in previous years, he is keeping an eye on them. I wonder what is keeping the numbers down, is it something about the environment around the river, or is perhaps because there are not enough insects around? He will be watching their numbers, has anyone else in England noticed any difference in numbers? I did think that we had not as many swallows, they arrive later than the sandmartins but the number of swallows in the blue sky looks the same now as other years. I presume they came in two batches.</span><br /><br />There is an important happening in the night sky this month. There will be a Blue Moon, this happens when there are two full moons in one month, the second is called a Blue Moon. There is a complication to this, it depends where you live, if you live in the Americas, you get the second moon right at the very end of May, everyone else, Asia, Africa, Australia and Europe will get their Blue Moon in June and poor old New Zealand will have to wait until the end of July. This is because of the time zones around the world. We roughly get a Blue Moon in the month every two to three years, so it is very special. Lots of extra lovely Moonlight.<br /><br /><span style="color:#ffcc66;">We have a public holiday on Monday in England, so this is a holiday weekend, and weather permitting I intend to make the most of it and get the garden right</span>.</span></strong></p><p align="left"><strong><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#666600;">Some of the illustrations in this postings are paintings by some of my favourite English artists. I believe that a lot of people under estimate what wonderful 20th century painters we had in England. The names are underneath the pictures.</span></strong><br /><br /></p><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgRj082OyxBEWPMhVStpXDwy40FPaSSI6ESepJb_64k6tL7ldAW85eo2b5l6PNr0FuNyysSkEqi142f61OINFPth5ux7w1vsv5R_GSh1mcGctJAnFva2ZESAb7x4LmFsSwc7h6z/s1600-h/glorious.gif"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5060755487636829602" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgRj082OyxBEWPMhVStpXDwy40FPaSSI6ESepJb_64k6tL7ldAW85eo2b5l6PNr0FuNyysSkEqi142f61OINFPth5ux7w1vsv5R_GSh1mcGctJAnFva2ZESAb7x4LmFsSwc7h6z/s200/glorious.gif" border="0" /></a>Daisy Lupinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13673588364228846859noreply@blogger.com16tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28080603.post-8681814692879899202007-05-01T05:35:00.000+01:002007-05-01T17:38:03.663+01:00A HAPPY MAY DAY TO YOU ALL<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiSErCoux5078FltVG8C8Pz7M2TN9eOpAbfYcYYmnQ8G_ywFtxl4frR6kP2t5BtEo2JIyT4hQNJ1eU65oe7SXP4PDhULYHPL-fTjJT1pVgjiiQapXhjZA8HqNZjKuWW6YcauFpS/s1600-h/2.jpg"><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#33cc00;"><strong><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5059621105169577250" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiSErCoux5078FltVG8C8Pz7M2TN9eOpAbfYcYYmnQ8G_ywFtxl4frR6kP2t5BtEo2JIyT4hQNJ1eU65oe7SXP4PDhULYHPL-fTjJT1pVgjiiQapXhjZA8HqNZjKuWW6YcauFpS/s400/2.jpg" border="0" /></strong></span></a><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#33cc00;"><strong><br /><br /></strong></span><div align="center"><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#ffcc00;"><strong><em>HAL AN TOW, JOLLY RUMBLE O</em></strong></span></div><br /><div align="center"><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#ffcc00;"><strong><em>FOR WE WERE UP LONG BEFORE THE DAY O</em></strong></span></div><br /><div align="center"><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#ffcc00;"><strong><em>TO WELCOME IN THE SUMMER O</em></strong></span></div><br /><div align="center"><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#ffcc00;"><strong><em>WELCOME IN THE MAY O</em></strong></span></div><br /><div align="center"><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#ffcc00;"><strong><em>FOR SUMMER IS A-COMIN' IN</em></strong></span></div><br /><div align="center"><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#ffcc00;"><strong><em>AND WINTER IS A GONE</em></strong></span></div><br /><div align="center"><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#33cc00;"><strong></strong></span></div><br /><div align="left"><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#33cc00;"><strong>May Morning has dawned bright and sunny, it seems so long since we had a true sunny MayDay. I hope you are all getting up early and washing your face in the May Day dew, then scouring the woods for sticks and flowers to make Kissing Balls. By breakfast we will have made the Kissing Balls and the food will be being made for the May Day feast. We must put our finest dresses on and help each other decorate our hair with spring blooms, because we are off to dance round the maypole on the village green before choosing the May Queen and her attendents. We shall watch a Mumming Play, concerning St George and the Dragon performed by travelling players. Then there will be feasting and dancing taking us up to the moment when the beacon on the far hillside will be lit as day ends and the bonfire on village green will echo it. Late in the evening we may be blessed by a fleeting visit by the Green Man and his Lady, before young village couples slyly sneak away to leafy bowers. There will probably one or two hasty weddings in the next couple of months. I hope you have enjoyed your visit to a traditional English May Day.</strong></span></div><br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhEfbqJHSj_cSncAMqHpW5-Hy7qeVLo_qjxGwZK9b9USaCKgz3-JLY5Ubjxg41s7S6nhxiXEKylZXBgGbR9D6gvYmrHiWFHnG_orpv2gRYiaQSoc5has4din1uDWTdAgeU6mOA0/s1600-h/beltane4.jpg"><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#33cc00;"><strong><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5059628909125154194" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhEfbqJHSj_cSncAMqHpW5-Hy7qeVLo_qjxGwZK9b9USaCKgz3-JLY5Ubjxg41s7S6nhxiXEKylZXBgGbR9D6gvYmrHiWFHnG_orpv2gRYiaQSoc5has4din1uDWTdAgeU6mOA0/s400/beltane4.jpg" border="0" /></strong></span></a><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#33cc00;"><strong><br /></strong></span><div align="left"></div><br /><div align="left"><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#ffcc00;"><strong></strong></span></div><div align="left"><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#ffcc00;"><strong>I was pleased with the Local History Exhibition, it was never crowded but we had a steady stream of visitors, of which the best thing was that I noticed all that came seem to spend over an hour looking at the photographs and reading the text and documents. We also made a pleasing amount in our Donations Box. One man, who came lives in two old cottages he knocked together, when he was renovating and knocked down a wall there in a little niche he found this tiny brown leather shoe from the late 1700's. It was exquisite workmanship, I thought it was too tiny to have been worn, except for a very young baby, but couldn't see a young baby wearing shoes. It could have been specially made or perhaps very young babies wore such shoes. There is a tradition of building a niche in walls and hiding a shoe in it for luck for the houses. People brought me old photographs to look at and copy, and one man even gave us some old local postcards to keep. Everyone said how enjoyable it was and I was interviewed for the Parish Council magazine LOL!</strong></span></div><br /><div align="left"><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#33cc00;"><strong></strong></span></div><br /><div align="left"><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#33cc00;"><strong></strong></span></div><br /><div align="left"><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#33cc00;"><strong></strong></span></div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiqIi_zcdhJd1m796PrxCmpcla-UgSSiTJdm6p9r4bxtOksuSeAH4a0-jzBOwsdizgv_c-oSJkMgV3G7XoxfOAie-2PruEp_2pCOfwDuX9UmRr3FNKf31vp0iK2lYZuDZOUkcbu/s1600-h/kg.bmp"><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#33cc00;"><strong><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5059621534666306882" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiqIi_zcdhJd1m796PrxCmpcla-UgSSiTJdm6p9r4bxtOksuSeAH4a0-jzBOwsdizgv_c-oSJkMgV3G7XoxfOAie-2PruEp_2pCOfwDuX9UmRr3FNKf31vp0iK2lYZuDZOUkcbu/s400/kg.bmp" border="0" /></strong></span></a><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#33cc00;"><strong> One man at the exhibition can read houses, by that I mean nothing psychic, he is a retired builder who has always dealt in renovations and he knows what property originally looked like, apparently there are clues in homes. I know from what he has told me before that upstairs my bathroom and one bedroom are a lot more modern built than the rest of the cottage and my dining room and kitchen used to be a single story with just my living room and morning room, where the stairs are having an upper floor, and my upstairs corridor is also a more modern division.<br /></strong></span><div align="left"></div><br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjI3Nzo_jTPaKGW5Vwimlhv-gTUh02UfaTKYAl6ChVf8aTzbE95wLyS5_YZpQSkNmEW2eIzkdEUeWtGXTy8Ir-dT63mFnR4RjLpjHBU0UeO2qM09pP67_YX3vlc2JXpJpTgN591/s1600-h/WarwickLeamington%252007.jpg"><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#33cc00;"><strong><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5059628784571102594" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjI3Nzo_jTPaKGW5Vwimlhv-gTUh02UfaTKYAl6ChVf8aTzbE95wLyS5_YZpQSkNmEW2eIzkdEUeWtGXTy8Ir-dT63mFnR4RjLpjHBU0UeO2qM09pP67_YX3vlc2JXpJpTgN591/s400/WarwickLeamington%252007.jpg" border="0" /></strong></span></a><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#33cc00;"><strong><br /></strong></span><div align="left"><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#33cc00;"><strong>The man that reads houses made me think that I don't think I have ever mentioned the underground stream in my back garden. Before our next door neighbour's moved their son was talking to me about our two gardens, and he told me about when they were digging a trench to make a new bed and to build a wall that deep underneath the soil there is an underground stream, he said that it followed on in our garden. Where it followed on in our garden is on the shady side and it is where I plant my irises which always flourish and I know some types of Iris do like damp conditions. </strong></span></div><br /><div align="left"><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#33cc00;"><strong></strong></span></div><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjS_yjPGA3dmhlxTOfaK1Jy6OOtSwEeuhoyN7WDdJAJQ5Fr1uE6Z2TRPUHj_WECDU9t0yb3tIrLaFvxWaBDPGGtigmlryQO4tEOGqCSsbp83uOqmu4btj3L1goe_6FhLOGUfmvQ/s1600-h/dowsera.jpg"><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#33cc00;"><strong><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5059628436678751586" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjS_yjPGA3dmhlxTOfaK1Jy6OOtSwEeuhoyN7WDdJAJQ5Fr1uE6Z2TRPUHj_WECDU9t0yb3tIrLaFvxWaBDPGGtigmlryQO4tEOGqCSsbp83uOqmu4btj3L1goe_6FhLOGUfmvQ/s400/dowsera.jpg" border="0" /></strong></span></a><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#33cc00;"><strong><br /></strong></span><div align="left"><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#33cc00;"><strong>I bought a pair of dowsing rods, this was about two years ago, and dowsed my garden with them. I was really excited when they started to cross where the underground stream was supposed to be and I could follow the crossing of them across the garden. Then my other half started to look at maps and eventually, with looking at maps and walking the land he found the tiny stream. It breaks away from the main beck and runs down the edge of a couple of fields in the open then after the last field it disappears into an open green space planted with trees oppposite some pensioners' bungalows, it then runs underground through our gardens and we even found where it joins up with the beck again. After it goes through about four gardens it goes under the road and across to where the bridge over the beck is. I find this absolutely fascinating.</strong></span></div><br /><div align="left"><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#33cc00;"><strong></strong></span></div><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhUnncDGhdhQ8MjFA3lStA3QLDI8br0lm8jEovOCWJ2PO5tPw1Fu45pHwg2w7lQ7ARpJQnkUcc6Z9saEVTtj1oWLWLVbmQPAoXZjTjAXjYZhycQKNrV3YLqkE-kZ-N5NT1G-NUg/s1600-h/The%2520Beehive%2520Pub%2520Sign%252040%2520h,%252032_5%2520w.jpg"><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#33cc00;"><strong><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5059621319917942066" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhUnncDGhdhQ8MjFA3lStA3QLDI8br0lm8jEovOCWJ2PO5tPw1Fu45pHwg2w7lQ7ARpJQnkUcc6Z9saEVTtj1oWLWLVbmQPAoXZjTjAXjYZhycQKNrV3YLqkE-kZ-N5NT1G-NUg/s400/The%2520Beehive%2520Pub%2520Sign%252040%2520h,%252032_5%2520w.jpg" border="0" /></strong></span></a><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#33cc00;"><strong><br /></strong></span><div align="left"><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#ffcc00;"><strong>One serious thing to think about. My other half showed this article he had been reading about mobile phone masts and honey bees. Apparently scientists think that the rays being emitted from these masts are confusing the navigational system of bees, who are becoming confused and unable to find their hives, also they are becoming confused in their collection of pollen. The article spoke to bee keepers who live beside these masts and they were losing colonies of bees. One man had lost eighty per cent of them. These masts are everywhere in the countryside. Please keep a watch out for bees, I know it is early in our part of England but I have not seen many bees, can we all watch throughout the summer and see if bees are as plentiful as usual or not. </strong></span></div><br /><div align="left"><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#ffcc00;"><strong></strong></span></div><br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh62v_QnHxTvKR4KbDsZfuSSzTkdGuxoky7UCX-c3xYTpRnEJZhuca9G3AhZjtXXOOsHqKSIUoKYcTGpSWmaHeZdzSTyr1q7j9vtiYrkS2KokeoLHBGED4a3CmEs7UMhO3z-e7L/s1600-h/honeybee.jpg"><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#ffcc00;"><strong><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5059628591297574258" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh62v_QnHxTvKR4KbDsZfuSSzTkdGuxoky7UCX-c3xYTpRnEJZhuca9G3AhZjtXXOOsHqKSIUoKYcTGpSWmaHeZdzSTyr1q7j9vtiYrkS2KokeoLHBGED4a3CmEs7UMhO3z-e7L/s400/honeybee.jpg" border="0" /></strong></span></a><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#ffcc00;"><strong><br /></strong></span><div align="left"><span style="color:#ffcc00;"><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"><strong>If we lose the bees nature will be in a dreadful state and so will the human race, no one should under estimate the job bees do, they are our chief pollinators, plants will not exist without them. If these rays are affecting the bees, please just stop and think what are they doing to us? I think I might have mentioned in an earlier posting that I was having really bad sleep patterns, and was told to remove my mobile phone from the bedside table as it was too near my head and its rays could interfere with my brain's sleep pattern. I did that and since then, it may be co-incidental, but I have slept soundly. So many people seem to be at a low ebb at the moment it does make you wonder if some modern day appliances are causing some sort of energy waves that are detrimental to certain people.</strong></span><br /></span><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiT1MeT4-y2x3Sv7_QZT9mcAQojpagU0g1huRrDsvvrKYHjEgvnkFhwwAryRf4yS2qRuQpLkMv0xSBh3lE0bWcpskVygvbgS7RQRVkqjwOh0_d5lViP1iVcKMgWmaxIntYy7QND/s1600-h/glorious.gif"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5059620508169123058" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiT1MeT4-y2x3Sv7_QZT9mcAQojpagU0g1huRrDsvvrKYHjEgvnkFhwwAryRf4yS2qRuQpLkMv0xSBh3lE0bWcpskVygvbgS7RQRVkqjwOh0_d5lViP1iVcKMgWmaxIntYy7QND/s200/glorious.gif" border="0" /></a> </div>Daisy Lupinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13673588364228846859noreply@blogger.com15tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28080603.post-90298310793561196232007-04-27T08:42:00.000+01:002007-04-27T11:00:38.536+01:00ALL WORK AND NO PLAY......BUT DAISY STOLE SOME LOST HOURS<p></p><p> </p><p><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgkgBxDUIRc2YaqS8TtXu5Houby9KxqwuyWLMl2Xe_UwkKQ5tD6knosg3Q3vXTP9aX8Y5XqMdVSOhyphenhyphenqUUb-LaqtihFCHLLEGHvOyIKhcvCAWNoFb83d4A-MTMFi5p3YxlW4r7hM/s1600-h/mey109-253.jpg"><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#00cccc;"><strong><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5058035197085463762" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgkgBxDUIRc2YaqS8TtXu5Houby9KxqwuyWLMl2Xe_UwkKQ5tD6knosg3Q3vXTP9aX8Y5XqMdVSOhyphenhyphenqUUb-LaqtihFCHLLEGHvOyIKhcvCAWNoFb83d4A-MTMFi5p3YxlW4r7hM/s400/mey109-253.jpg" border="0" /></strong></span></a><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#00cccc;"><strong></strong></span></p><p><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#00cccc;"><strong></strong></span></p><p><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#6666cc;"><strong><em>My favourite small bird the European Goldfinch. I love to watch them play on thistle heads in the common land at the back of my cottage.</em></strong></span></p><p><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#00cccc;"><strong>This is turning out to be a really busy week with everything geared towards the Local History Exhibtion on Saturday. Naturally, the sunny weather has returned, so yesterday I downed tools regarding the exhibition to spend a few hours in my garden potting on some plants that I have been hardening off.<br /><br /></p></strong></span><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhaZCjufr7i4j1OD-j1COEZGcMpVeCYBqRDzsPU48M-nWA7Rrt_z8bGAH4h3wg5TWGUAw8PNtou0a4PRzXB9hxA6gkVoWZrRBEnwaZsGgTAhroJRtBQ2LQrRF6nSTVK_BSWrDy-/s1600-h/gba34-332.jpg"><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#00cccc;"><strong><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5058035424718730466" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhaZCjufr7i4j1OD-j1COEZGcMpVeCYBqRDzsPU48M-nWA7Rrt_z8bGAH4h3wg5TWGUAw8PNtou0a4PRzXB9hxA6gkVoWZrRBEnwaZsGgTAhroJRtBQ2LQrRF6nSTVK_BSWrDy-/s400/gba34-332.jpg" border="0" /></strong></span></a><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#00cccc;"><strong><em><span style="color:#6666cc;"> More birds from the family of finches, such colourful cheerful looking birds, flashes of pure colour as they fly by you.</span></em><br /><br />I did something this year about plants that I will never do again, unless someone in England can recommend a better supplier. Last year I bought my plants from a garden centre and my children bought me some lovely perennials for Mother's Day from a supplier called Crocus. They were really good plants. This year I bought a few more perennials by post and then decided to buy my bedding plants that way, although they come as plug plants you seemed to get a good quantity of them. Once again my children said they would buy me some for Mother's Day, so with their order and me ordering as well the firm J. Parker's has had a substantial order from us. </strong></span><p><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"><br /><br /><strong><span style="color:#00cccc;"></span></strong></span></p><p><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjUJPr72dhhdB5iIYLD2-9eZbguqVKQm-8cyY2ASSkg6A7TAK5RsYywkLnLPpfi2-oE58iUEDj9J_BXjqtzbG_bH2YpXRdnIL7_NNnaut8ALon9FqX09420wStugXWR1JNy3iMg/s1600-h/untitled.bmp"><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#00cccc;"><strong><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5058034449761154194" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjUJPr72dhhdB5iIYLD2-9eZbguqVKQm-8cyY2ASSkg6A7TAK5RsYywkLnLPpfi2-oE58iUEDj9J_BXjqtzbG_bH2YpXRdnIL7_NNnaut8ALon9FqX09420wStugXWR1JNy3iMg/s400/untitled.bmp" border="0" /></strong></span></a><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#00cccc;"><strong> <em><span style="color:#6666cc;">The Blue tit, I love watching them crawl up the wall of my barn and swing from its gutters, such entertaining acrobats.</span></em><br /><br />I have not been at all happy with the way the plants are arriving, obviously they send them out as they are ready, but this means they come in small dribs and drabs, my bigger complaint is the state of some of these plants. They come in plugs of 66, which as soon as I get I have been opening and potting on before putting their permanent homes. I am beginning to notice the plants that are slightly more mature and are sent out in slightly larger cases, such as the Geraniums and ground cover plants are all doing well, but I have lost half of my petunias, and nearly all my trailing geraniums. I am feeling very disgruntled about these as I not used to plants dying on me. I think I have learnt my lesson with bedding plants, back to the garden centre.<br /><br /></strong></span><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjoh2z7oIdrWUCiKME5UjPuY85gsqIR8oih-bZ01e8sSjg3vYinV74z_R0WBEKKh4bR-KWJp6VX4dHBL0t8dqtOeyz8kLa-SFsYPCJNc-umCxV1p9H9sTlLkoyhGfUYotTs3jyA/s1600-h/Mistle_thrush.jpg"><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#00cccc;"><strong><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5058034720344093858" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjoh2z7oIdrWUCiKME5UjPuY85gsqIR8oih-bZ01e8sSjg3vYinV74z_R0WBEKKh4bR-KWJp6VX4dHBL0t8dqtOeyz8kLa-SFsYPCJNc-umCxV1p9H9sTlLkoyhGfUYotTs3jyA/s400/Mistle_thrush.jpg" border="0" /></strong></span></a><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#00cccc;"><strong><br /><em><span style="color:#6666cc;">The Mistle or Missel Thrush, they are becoming rare in England, but not if you know where to find them. There is a beautiful one visits my garden.</span></em><br /><br />After doing some gardening yesterday, I sat in the garden, watching the birds, there is a tremendous amount of bird activity at the moment. Just sitting in my garden chair, I watched different types of the tit and finch family, plus of course, common or garden sparrows, blackbirds and thrushes, including the beautiful mistle thrush, my crows, who don't wish to be photographed, plus the collared doves and wood pigeons. I counted eighteen varieties of bird life in one half hour. Whilst I was sitting there drinking a cup of coffee, Mr Heron flew over my garden and I was fascinated to see he was carrying quite a large fish in his claws, he must have been taking it home to the heronry. A Rook was chasing him as he had flown too near the rookery, though, the rook seemed to think he was chasing the heron, I could see Mr. Heron, was treating the rook with distain. The Heron is marvellous to watch, those great wings that seem to go so far without flapping, he is a silent flyer. Magic.!<br /><br /></strong></span><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh9_eyy_yOFD0nKTR1Id9BJHn0cpNCvl01EAagMEiUdwcFwToZmddIo3MSRVemnfgMVgpJA0-EqIWhQ6u2yc6K5t1hpoHpktnfePjZUXjRbxtzC5xCO8xo8N6fn3M84Tqb-ey9q/s1600-h/mb122-151.jpg"><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#00cccc;"><strong><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5058035042466641090" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh9_eyy_yOFD0nKTR1Id9BJHn0cpNCvl01EAagMEiUdwcFwToZmddIo3MSRVemnfgMVgpJA0-EqIWhQ6u2yc6K5t1hpoHpktnfePjZUXjRbxtzC5xCO8xo8N6fn3M84Tqb-ey9q/s400/mb122-151.jpg" border="0" /></strong></span></a><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#00cccc;"><strong> <em><span style="color:#6666cc;">The wonderful mystical Mr. Heron, to see him fly across an early moon at twilight is an uplifting magical experience.<br /></span></em><br />All my other endeavours are now geared towards my exhibition, I have had a constant stream of visitors from outlying hamlets and villages, asking if the History Lady lives here, and dropping off old photographs and old documents. I am scanning and reprinting a lot of the old photographs, for two reasons, one I wouldn't like anything to happen to someone's personal belongings, and two, you can clean up the quality slightly of the photographs and make them clearer, the same goes for the documents. I have had other members distributing flyers but there is just me and someone assisting me, very ably, organising everything. The manpower of the group will be put to use early tomorrow morning when the display boards arrive and need to be assembled and the tables and chairs set out. I also have got a tea rota going, and have made ID badges for the actual Group so visitors will know the people to ask questions of. I hope the weather says good, because if people are going out for the day, they probably could pop into the exhibition first. Keep your fingers crossed that it is a success and think of me and my modest exhibition tomorrow.</strong></span></p><p><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#00cccc;"><strong><br /><br /></strong></span></p><p><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg2hMwfKIcjYy4TrwmUN2jOkfBuNpv0hO7jNassBTvbKSstAwWzb6V2s3IAjf4jZslRrYd0kr7ESwno8pTj8BwvIra2aHjngyUS8MhCBrm8fWViK75INF6SVtPSIcOBKH4wKbNQ/s1600-h/philip+howard+1700%27s.jpg"><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#00cccc;"><strong><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5058034853488080050" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg2hMwfKIcjYy4TrwmUN2jOkfBuNpv0hO7jNassBTvbKSstAwWzb6V2s3IAjf4jZslRrYd0kr7ESwno8pTj8BwvIra2aHjngyUS8MhCBrm8fWViK75INF6SVtPSIcOBKH4wKbNQ/s400/philip+howard+1700%27s.jpg" border="0" /></strong></span></a><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#00cccc;"><strong> </strong></span></p><p><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#6666cc;"><strong><em>This is a painting of Sir Philip Howard, of Corby Castle, sitting very elegantly surveying his land. Great Corby is one of our next villages and that is my local river that is the backdrop to the painting. The Howards did own most of our village at one time. You can see their coat of arms and insignia on some of the houses in the village.<br /></em></strong></span><br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjlADmMzF8g-Z__qJgtkArCI4j1Q4dw7o2s1AyPObJuxQ0FDoRNzzmCIaFirNo4rRVXXKCKdP4fxvatkVUdKqVbMxfcp_rK1LVcFD5OAPVKL0h5MDXstjVHwsBrdnZmBIrN6Hr6/s1600-h/glorious.gif"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5058026108934665266" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjlADmMzF8g-Z__qJgtkArCI4j1Q4dw7o2s1AyPObJuxQ0FDoRNzzmCIaFirNo4rRVXXKCKdP4fxvatkVUdKqVbMxfcp_rK1LVcFD5OAPVKL0h5MDXstjVHwsBrdnZmBIrN6Hr6/s200/glorious.gif" border="0" /></a> </p>Daisy Lupinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13673588364228846859noreply@blogger.com15tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28080603.post-71622579683497763062007-04-24T17:25:00.000+01:002007-04-24T22:38:40.911+01:00I DON'T LIKE MONDAYS I WANT TO SHOOT THE WHOLE DAY DOWN - [courtesy of Boomtown Rats]<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgXfTW8v4pAmTRjFrm4p64_W_WuAQhkfUjB0J4SYLxzZuv0sRJmHKxbGeghPZhvCyL9tOCwcw3HQ5nQYxK-AQCrCRhp-G1Jdb6pv4jlw6PIR8h0O_yMuF5N9fkIf5_GKIHzf5Wr/s1600-h/stmart5.jpg"><strong><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#330099;"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5057078048898963490" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgXfTW8v4pAmTRjFrm4p64_W_WuAQhkfUjB0J4SYLxzZuv0sRJmHKxbGeghPZhvCyL9tOCwcw3HQ5nQYxK-AQCrCRhp-G1Jdb6pv4jlw6PIR8h0O_yMuF5N9fkIf5_GKIHzf5Wr/s400/stmart5.jpg" border="0" /></span></strong></a><strong><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#330099;"> <em><span style="color:#3366ff;">These are the stained glass panels in St Martin's church in Brampton, my nearest small market town. These images were designed by Sir Edward Burne-Jones, the Pre-Raphaelite artist</span>.<br /></em><br /><br />Oh dear, that is exactly how I felt yesterday. I awoke to a gloomy grey day complete with drizzle of rain, too many deadlines looming in my head. I definitely got out of the wrong side of the bed and I grumped around growling to myself as I went downstairs to make the breakfast. Too wet for the garden and plants waiting patiently to be planted before they give up hope and wither. My energy levels were plummeting as the day got greyer. Ready to pick a fight with myself, and here was the final blow, I had stupidly let myself run out of a couple of household items I needed. No way, could I face going into the town, then inspiration struck, I would go the other way to my nearest little market town Brampton. Then another light bulb in my head lit up, I had been thinking that I needed to do a tour of the small surrounding villages before the Local History Exhibition on Saturday, to note the differences to the old photos, on a rainy day what better way to do it than to catch the twisty turning backwards and forwards country bus that takes over an hour to take me what normally takes ten minutes.<br /><br /></span></strong><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjOXvvdLor3Y5ZMI6OSczZ4_mjuhQO43ObRThUtrWQq1AJktv-QsIn6XlWF8JP5svEhYPzlnjO9n_i-c4f-Mn9Rnt0DrSu8TKr4smP_mLDC63_BHsJ3IuCBIXdi5_R2sTzvybYY/s1600-h/bramptn.jpg"><strong><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#330099;"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5057081626606721090" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjOXvvdLor3Y5ZMI6OSczZ4_mjuhQO43ObRThUtrWQq1AJktv-QsIn6XlWF8JP5svEhYPzlnjO9n_i-c4f-Mn9Rnt0DrSu8TKr4smP_mLDC63_BHsJ3IuCBIXdi5_R2sTzvybYY/s400/bramptn.jpg" border="0" /></span></strong></a><strong><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#330099;"> <em><span style="color:#3333ff;">This is the Market Square in Brampton, looking towards the Moot Hall.</span></em><br /><br />Off I went and caught the direct bus to Brampton, this would give me half and hour or so before having to catch the slow-mo bus back. Off I went to the Post Office, the Baker's and the lovely local Butcher's. Then there was just time to visit two charity shops and the local Moot Hall which is the tourist information centre. Luck was with me, I bought a beautiful foot high bluestoneware flagon, with a stopper cork and a wooden tap, which will look beautiful in my kitchen. Only £1 incredible. Inside the tourist information office was a sale of bargain books, selling wonderfully cheaply, just found time to purchase three of them before heading back to the bus stop.<br /><br /></span></strong><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjBDPQG_ncnwMecVp-ivHCs57R3EVW5Vxd4wHw1fkcM0HkEZxtN6NGUeHZK21uNunn_MRkbUW4ByPrI3U1wM_Ws11qhUe_yCkpCw6XQYyG6Kuv5ibam51a4HMLTcwTwFMDQyclA/s1600-h/brampton1-600.jpg"><strong><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#330099;"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5057081824175216722" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjBDPQG_ncnwMecVp-ivHCs57R3EVW5Vxd4wHw1fkcM0HkEZxtN6NGUeHZK21uNunn_MRkbUW4ByPrI3U1wM_Ws11qhUe_yCkpCw6XQYyG6Kuv5ibam51a4HMLTcwTwFMDQyclA/s400/brampton1-600.jpg" border="0" /></span></strong></a><strong><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#330099;"> <em><span style="color:#3333ff;">This is looking from the Moot Hall down the other way towards St Martin's church.</span></em><br /><br />The little bus turned up and I was the only passenger, these little buses only have six double seats on each side, a long back seat and a space at the front for pushchairs and parcels. I was already a bit more cheerful with my unexpected purchases. Well that was the most wonderful hour's journey, up and down hill, turns to the left then back out again turns to the right and back out again, almost doing complete circles from where we had started until I was set down just over one hour later two door away from my front door. I had seen pheasants a plenty, some strange type of wild geese, a crow and a bird of prey fighting, tiny lambs tottering around and some beautiful leggy foals in the fields with their mothers. Not to mention some wonderful old building and countryside. The blues had been blown away and the grumpiness shaken and rattled out of me by the twisty roads, and as a plus some locally made Cumberland Sausages to make a casserole with for dinner.<br /><br /></span></strong><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiFXyKvdd2eiW0B5a4sVRn81qqUKedDUlJr9OtlcCtx9z9pofOJdS-KcA3I-Jyoq3A1ZgFGMglIkSU_2yWnjLVj3Ia0qvU5WGoh81ig-3feugkmYuTWBkohWCB6PdyNltkkP4aB/s1600-h/bramtic.jpg"><strong><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#3333ff;"><em><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5057077250035046370" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiFXyKvdd2eiW0B5a4sVRn81qqUKedDUlJr9OtlcCtx9z9pofOJdS-KcA3I-Jyoq3A1ZgFGMglIkSU_2yWnjLVj3Ia0qvU5WGoh81ig-3feugkmYuTWBkohWCB6PdyNltkkP4aB/s400/bramtic.jpg" border="0" /></em></span></strong></a><strong><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#330099;"><em><span style="color:#3333ff;"> A close up of the Moot Hall, which is the tourist information centre.<br /></span></em><br />Today I had to go into town, to the library to do some extra large photocopying for the exhibition on Saturday. On my way to the library I noticed that a new remainder bookshop had opened this week all books £2. What! I checked that out twice, in I went like pooh bear to a honey pot. Unbelievable books all at £2, I was spoilt for choice, I picked a wonderful book all about jade, another one quilting round the world and a beautiful book full of botanical illustrations through the ages. Some of these books had been over £30. Added a few fiction, rushed to the till and paid, and got out the shop pronto before I was tempted to buy more. I did manage ascertain that the shop will be there for six months, ummmm I'll definitely be back if books stay at that price and it was just not an opening offer.<br /><br /></span></strong><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhbr1KujpmqdaZCjZdULVpwpR5crnXman968AN7hG_6LcTTlCFOUOfj0IKsNWzeyq45vtEGzfkLyt3_uNsd7w73CUSxTHDU_z1OJrYOqNsCwyvTj5mC_D0J4ilsiRZMqRRAAK2K/s1600-h/fern%252B002.jpg"><strong><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#330099;"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5057104050630973538" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhbr1KujpmqdaZCjZdULVpwpR5crnXman968AN7hG_6LcTTlCFOUOfj0IKsNWzeyq45vtEGzfkLyt3_uNsd7w73CUSxTHDU_z1OJrYOqNsCwyvTj5mC_D0J4ilsiRZMqRRAAK2K/s400/fern%252B002.jpg" border="0" /></span></strong></a><strong><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#330099;"><br />I must show you this cute little woodland sprite I received from Lila of <em>Indigo Pears</em> as part of the ongoing <em>Hello Dolly</em> swap. She is called Fern and she is carefully carrying a nest of eggs. Isn't she just delicious?<br /></span></strong><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhV20RXIVRbliA-CcOUi-XYEtpiuWm4aTwF7_e4Vhyg0oaoxo0WrmDnhWUAkYeuWkQa-NsOPEuE1HkQYhKyAUjkUX_3sqRUnhysVr7YLV-NbzjCsOH36yzWE7cFBVDAapOJ93F2/s1600-h/stmart6.jpg"><strong><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#330099;"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5057077499143149554" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhV20RXIVRbliA-CcOUi-XYEtpiuWm4aTwF7_e4Vhyg0oaoxo0WrmDnhWUAkYeuWkQa-NsOPEuE1HkQYhKyAUjkUX_3sqRUnhysVr7YLV-NbzjCsOH36yzWE7cFBVDAapOJ93F2/s400/stmart6.jpg" border="0" /></span></strong></a><strong><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#330099;"><em><span style="color:#3333ff;"> St Martin's church Brampton<br /></span></em><br />Dear Mrs Nesbitt, has tagged me with the following 40 questions, so here goes, deep breath and off I go:-<br /><br /><em><span style="color:#3333ff;">1. What is your occupation?</span></em> My degree is in History, I don't want to sound stuffy and say I am a Historian, so perhaps, Researcher of Social History might be better. I can also complicate the matter by admitting I have a Dip AD in art and design as well.<br /><br /><em><span style="color:#3333ff;">2. What color are your socks right now?</span></em> Bare feet.<br /><br /><em><span style="color:#3333ff;">3. What are you listening to right now?</span></em> Chopin's <em>Nocturnes</em>, though I love a varied selection of music, especially old hippie stuff.<br /><br /><em><span style="color:#3333ff;">4. What was the last thing that you ate?</span></em> Spring Vegetable Rolls<br /><br /><em><span style="color:#3333ff;">5. Can you drive a stick shift?</span></em> Not quite sure what this means? Is it something to do with motorbikes?<br /><br /><em><span style="color:#3333ff;">6. If you were a crayon, what color would you be?</span></em> Purple Haze.<br /><br /><em><span style="color:#3333ff;">7. Last person you spoke to on the phone?</span></em> My daughter, Sweetpea.<br /><br /><em><span style="color:#3333ff;">8. Do you like the person who sent this to you?</span></em> Yes, or I wouldn't be doing it.<br /><br /><em><span style="color:#3333ff;">9. How old are you today?</span></em> About seven<br /><br /><em><span style="color:#3333ff;">10. Favorite drink</span></em>? Wine, red, white or rose.<br /><br /><em><span style="color:#3333ff;">11. What is your favorite sport to watch?</span></em> Hah you know about me and sport!<br /><br /><em><span style="color:#3333ff;">12. Have you ever dyed your hair?</span></em> Yes, I'm not a true blonde.<br /><br /><em><span style="color:#3333ff;">13. Pets?</span></em> Always, cats<br /><br /><em><span style="color:#3333ff;">14. Favorite food?</span></em> At the moment, celery,nut and apple salad.<br /><br /><em><span style="color:#3333ff;">15. What was the last movie you watched?</span></em> <em>Howard's End</em>.<br /><br /><em><span style="color:#3333ff;">16. What was the last book you read?</span></em> <em>Spirits in the Wires</em> Charles de Lint.<br /><br /><em><span style="color:#3333ff;">17. What do you do to vent anger?</span></em> Growl!<br /><br /><em><span style="color:#3333ff;">18. What was your favourite toy as a child?</span></em> My doll's house.<br /><br /><em><span style="color:#3333ff;">19. What is your favourite, fall or spring?</span></em> Spring because after that it's Summer and I have my garden.<br /><br /><em><span style="color:#3333ff;">20. Hugs or kisses?</span></em> Depends who's doing the giving.<br /><br /></span></strong><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgEarPe5NOoTcuIQXxM9IikfYxUM9nMMiQcFpjDbTehaOkRwVgRpAKAB1E7UCYYMClzOtAF_Kn8u0xgf8Pj2TZB4DhIX72rhmozBgPoMT0NsIMepkxSx3L0cW3s1Y6r8Sq9VdPC/s1600-h/stmart.jpg"><strong><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#330099;"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5057077666646874114" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgEarPe5NOoTcuIQXxM9IikfYxUM9nMMiQcFpjDbTehaOkRwVgRpAKAB1E7UCYYMClzOtAF_Kn8u0xgf8Pj2TZB4DhIX72rhmozBgPoMT0NsIMepkxSx3L0cW3s1Y6r8Sq9VdPC/s400/stmart.jpg" border="0" /></span></strong></a><strong><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#330099;"> <em><span style="color:#3333ff;">The interior of St Martin's Church Brampton showing the stained glass in situ.<br /></span></em><br /><br /><em><span style="color:#3333ff;">21. Cherries or blueberries?</span></em> Cherries.<br /><br /><em><span style="color:#3333ff;">22. Do you want your friends to leave you comments</span></em>? Well that's what blogs are about.<br /><br /><em><span style="color:#3333ff;">23. Who is the most likely to comment?</span></em> My little circle of regulars.<br /><br /><em><span style="color:#3333ff;">24. Who is least likely to comment?</span></em> These people that visit everyday and just lurk, please try saying hello. <span style="color:#3333ff;">I KNOW WHO YOU ARE</span>, I could list you!<br /><br /><em><span style="color:#3333ff;">25. Living arrangements?</span></em> An empty nest just my other half and I.<br /><br /><em><span style="color:#3333ff;">26. When was the last time you cried?</span></em> Monday, just felt overwhelmed, see above.<br /><br /><em><span style="color:#3333ff;">27. What's on the floor of your closet?</span></em> Handbags, shoes and of course, books.<br /><br /><em><span style="color:#3333ff;">28. Who is the friend you have had the longest?</span></em> Pam<br /><br /><em><span style="color:#3333ff;">29. What did you do last night?</span></em> Mounted photographs and cut out printed captions for them.<br /><br /><em><span style="color:#3333ff;">30. Favorite smells?</span></em> Vanilla and Floral smells such as jasmine, lotus or rose.<br /><br /></span></strong><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhKNSHA3UNatUwL0g_Od0-7RxTf_uPXDP7KXRCAw9OdD1QTC9WvT0yHnoiRB4FmBeZzECSGiT2M506kqlFdZDVITDpeeA77zpZXDxqF9wrhyiZd6E2rBvMx21XUI28dOGX1wkHi/s1600-h/stmart3.jpg"><strong><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#330099;"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5057077834150598674" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhKNSHA3UNatUwL0g_Od0-7RxTf_uPXDP7KXRCAw9OdD1QTC9WvT0yHnoiRB4FmBeZzECSGiT2M506kqlFdZDVITDpeeA77zpZXDxqF9wrhyiZd6E2rBvMx21XUI28dOGX1wkHi/s400/stmart3.jpg" border="0" /></span></strong></a><strong><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#330099;"> <em><span style="color:#3333ff;">Another of the stained glass panels designed by Sir Edward Burne-Jones.</span></em><br /><br /><em><span style="color:#3333ff;">31. What inspires you?</span></em> The countryside and books.<br /><br /><em><span style="color:#3333ff;">32. What are you afraid of?</span></em> Heights, mainly, I was terrified crossing the railway bridge in the wind at Thirsk and didn't want to sound a wimp by saying I was scared of heights. I won't even climb a ladder.<br /><br /><em><span style="color:#3333ff;">33. Plain, cheese or spicy hamburgers?</span></em> Don't like hamburgers.<br /><br /><em><span style="color:#3333ff;">34. Favourite dog breed?</span></em> greyhounds.<br /><br /><em><span style="color:#3333ff;">35. Number of keys on your key ring?</span></em> Never carry a key ring or keys, I have ways and means.<br /><br /><em><span style="color:#3333ff;">36. Number of years at current job?</span></em> Doesn't work like that, it's sporadic.<br /><br /><em><span style="color:#3333ff;">37. Favourite day of the week?</span></em> Sunday for chilling.<br /><br /><em><span style="color:#3333ff;">38. How many states/countries have you lived in?</span></em> One country, two counties.<br /><br /><em><span style="color:#3333ff;">39. Favourite holidays?</span></em> Where else but Cornwall.<br /><br /><em><span style="color:#3333ff;">40. Ever driven a Motorcycle or heavy machinery?</span></em> I can just see my other half shaking his head and he is now bend double with laughter!</span></strong><br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjAh4rQmbqed-PaCQt5WC3qGLtdF53tKPIPjutuypjrbMQH0C1hHSCmwYGtOiRZ6jeklPoBET7yv9k_W31i8N_JOANdGETI-NzTFR2Zj_Rwh2WsywBOxAxheSDOdFPZX6FwCjHh/s1600-h/glorious.gif"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5057077073941387218" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjAh4rQmbqed-PaCQt5WC3qGLtdF53tKPIPjutuypjrbMQH0C1hHSCmwYGtOiRZ6jeklPoBET7yv9k_W31i8N_JOANdGETI-NzTFR2Zj_Rwh2WsywBOxAxheSDOdFPZX6FwCjHh/s200/glorious.gif" border="0" /></a>Daisy Lupinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13673588364228846859noreply@blogger.com20tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28080603.post-81779125169394671742007-04-20T18:33:00.000+01:002007-04-20T23:18:26.684+01:00COME INTO THE GARDEN MAUDE<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiSpD-Wz9nQ0to8OcLxlesSVM3257bWInsU_ZyUZn_y2GIoPq7L9hBJNeMWXRFgVh_gPr4FUw5ZOHVXhI6F3mgJ7-QH-rea4NanyDOpzUbVlroyrWiNEeIxh18vfqZgpTtbR4VM/s1600-h/w+1870s.jpg"><strong><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#ffcc00;"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5055566722921944914" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiSpD-Wz9nQ0to8OcLxlesSVM3257bWInsU_ZyUZn_y2GIoPq7L9hBJNeMWXRFgVh_gPr4FUw5ZOHVXhI6F3mgJ7-QH-rea4NanyDOpzUbVlroyrWiNEeIxh18vfqZgpTtbR4VM/s400/w+1870s.jpg" border="0" /></span></strong></a><strong><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#ffcc00;"><br /><br />I have been busy over the last couple of weeks, sorting out maps, photographs, and writings about my village and its environs. This is because a week tomorrow, my Local History Group is having a drop in event at the local community hall. People can either bring any documents etc they would like to show us or just come and have a look at the display boards to see what we have found out so far. It's free and you get a cup of tea or coffee and biscuits, so we are hoping it will be a success. This gave me the idea that it would be nice to share with you some of the old photographs I have found and tell you all about them.<br /><br />The first photograph above, is my very favourite, it is taken in the next village to us about 2miles away. The road leads down to the river and there used to be a ferry there that would take you across the river. What fascinates me about this photograph is the lady standing outside her rather impressive ivy covered house. She is wearing an amazingly large crinoline, and has obviously just come out to see what is going on, another member of the household leans out of an upstairs window to watch the photographer. I love the fact it is not a posed family photograph but just someone standing in the type of clothing they wore everyday. The photo just has 1870 on it. I am not sure if this is correct due to the size of the crinoline. I think it is either slightly earlier or prehaps, fashions took a long time to reach our neck of the woods.<br /><br /></span></strong><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi82oHPFLoL7S5THssd2ImA89SJPaQKWRQWUjPRIEM481i36gEt8dw9_EAu5_KrWPyYcKEm9DTwS65jWGii9wciER_BS68acHbNyuj57L_OzK6y3C5sh7KfJsBoo84B_Kc2sOBe/s1600-h/ct5841.jpg"><strong><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#ffcc00;"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5055567135238805362" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi82oHPFLoL7S5THssd2ImA89SJPaQKWRQWUjPRIEM481i36gEt8dw9_EAu5_KrWPyYcKEm9DTwS65jWGii9wciER_BS68acHbNyuj57L_OzK6y3C5sh7KfJsBoo84B_Kc2sOBe/s400/ct5841.jpg" border="0" /></span></strong></a><strong><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#ffcc00;"><br /><br />This photograph shows the same view, except it is further down the road, and we have moved into Edwardian times. The river and the woods of this village, Wetheral, were a Sunday or day off destination for people in this area. You could walk in the woods or take a picnic by the side of the river. Children would be taken there with their pace eggs at Easter for a treat. It was also a popular spot with the middle classes and their Botanical Societies etc, searching for plant specimens in the woods.<br /><br /></span></strong><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEicY3bAH2RuaTERCfDOINKfdPqL8nn-Gs6owNQQ-Z_3gyaEFSxCt8hzXZCxFpDqko_C0bt68uQcGbYfijexHV9GiNkrK5a63mq6zswSXKfqmSiL9897RS-cQR-36itIXWkwsEw4/s1600-h/ct5842.jpg"><strong><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#ffcc00;"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5055567921217820578" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEicY3bAH2RuaTERCfDOINKfdPqL8nn-Gs6owNQQ-Z_3gyaEFSxCt8hzXZCxFpDqko_C0bt68uQcGbYfijexHV9GiNkrK5a63mq6zswSXKfqmSiL9897RS-cQR-36itIXWkwsEw4/s400/ct5842.jpg" border="0" /></span></strong></a><strong><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#ffcc00;"><br /><br />This is the other end of that village, note the unmade road, today this is a busy tarmac road. It looks so idyllic with all the hedges and bushes, you could wander down that road in quite a daydream, not likely to be able to do that with the cars that go hurtling through today.<br /><br /></span></strong><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiuuEOjkwzY7k4_yzxKfWOTj_tIGO8rHj85RxmNqYs0etI6-fznxhMD2JHWACA3VzrpLnWfSEVykZo6l37SLXFqdNofJT1FfDf2G6U2WVUUfZrgR2kTrbu0JEfxQa5DJoVH-nFD/s1600-h/wheatsheaf+wetheral.jpg"><strong><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#ffcc00;"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5055567642044946322" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiuuEOjkwzY7k4_yzxKfWOTj_tIGO8rHj85RxmNqYs0etI6-fznxhMD2JHWACA3VzrpLnWfSEVykZo6l37SLXFqdNofJT1FfDf2G6U2WVUUfZrgR2kTrbu0JEfxQa5DJoVH-nFD/s400/wheatsheaf+wetheral.jpg" border="0" /></span></strong></a><strong><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#ffcc00;"><br /><br />This is the Wheatsheaf Inn, it is at the top left on the previous photograph, just before the road bends, hidden by greenery. This is also an Edwardian photograph. The Wheatsheaf is still there today, though that is now a busy traffic bend in the road. I love the staff standing outside the door and the man on horseback watching the photo being taken. I wonder who he is?<br /><br /></span></strong><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjxlFZnIScNIQdYKxUSPW3gpdodGDS9TWZfWqvNkMix8DWzmNNS34_0xKlAbhSC1ygiJMLb3uC9nKCoYfyPOmAy-lWt3GLU-sF6NmQjCVLgoXgb6QqnP5LX9zptDnrplD8RK7Ay/s1600-h/1835.jpg"><strong><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#ffcc00;"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5055566963440113506" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjxlFZnIScNIQdYKxUSPW3gpdodGDS9TWZfWqvNkMix8DWzmNNS34_0xKlAbhSC1ygiJMLb3uC9nKCoYfyPOmAy-lWt3GLU-sF6NmQjCVLgoXgb6QqnP5LX9zptDnrplD8RK7Ay/s400/1835.jpg" border="0" /></span></strong></a><strong><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#ffcc00;"><br /><br />This engraving is from 1837 showing the large railway bridge over the river. What a wonderful feat of engineering. The Victorians certainly could build. The railway station at Wetheral is still open and trains do stop there. I love crossing this river in a train, on a return journey, to me it is always a sign that I am nearly home. You can walk across the railway bridge, there is a fenced off pathway along side the railway track and this leads you into the village of Great Corby. This is where years ago the ferry from Wetheral used to take you across to.<br /><br /></span></strong><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj0_yePNDnUPFB3mH9jAi8152u8AbfqPkNrBAa4TJygTh55DNKopV7VfcX3Lut9b6ktLXgqj5WwgaLlSjprNAZQL6ovqhK2KHWJFEGe5yw5mgFCninU_rjeFz6KgPkf4H6Mmt4B/s1600-h/HNthe+villas.jpg"><strong><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#ffcc00;"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5055567418706646914" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj0_yePNDnUPFB3mH9jAi8152u8AbfqPkNrBAa4TJygTh55DNKopV7VfcX3Lut9b6ktLXgqj5WwgaLlSjprNAZQL6ovqhK2KHWJFEGe5yw5mgFCninU_rjeFz6KgPkf4H6Mmt4B/s400/HNthe+villas.jpg" border="0" /></span></strong></a><strong><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#ffcc00;"><br /><br />This tinted photograph is of the next village after Wetheral, Heads Nook. These are Railway Villas, someone did tell me that they used to belong to the railway and managers and clerical workers from the railway lived in them. They are very substantially built properties. Alas, the railway station at Heads Nook is no longer open.<br /><br /></span></strong><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjVpjAQHfIAaN8KWHpJJGFDElpLj2wCTJDppLw-bMEGCJFX7-dRDblAP5Gn-qVf_0jOH2PGJ3SUn6kwEIw0_a23VbM-nwsnIyJP6aUEJa25VxWG2rYSmdmXYZIHHhBp51HC3Zrf/s1600-h/daisyfairy.jpg"><strong><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#ffcc00;"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5055634089483982770" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjVpjAQHfIAaN8KWHpJJGFDElpLj2wCTJDppLw-bMEGCJFX7-dRDblAP5Gn-qVf_0jOH2PGJ3SUn6kwEIw0_a23VbM-nwsnIyJP6aUEJa25VxWG2rYSmdmXYZIHHhBp51HC3Zrf/s400/daisyfairy.jpg" border="0" /></span></strong></a><strong><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#ffcc00;"><br /><br /><span style="color:#009900;">Yesterday and today, I have had a stream of small white boxes containing my summer bedding plants through the post. It is total chaos, I am finding it hard to understand why these boxes are coming through individually when I put one order in. Yes, I understand they send the plants off when ready, but it looks like a certain amount of them must have been ready at the same time, why not put them in one container. There are nicely and safely packaged, one problem, though. The small perennials little plastic homes are labelled with names of plants inside but the trays of 66 plug plants give no indication of variety! hummm! Well some I could recognise by leaf, although they are still small plants, I could see which were going to be geraniums and which were petunias but one or two at the moment it's anybodies guess what they will become.<br /><br />It is still slightly early to plant outside, although the days are warm, we are still experiencing ground frost at night occasionally. So, my day has been spent sitting in the kitchen potting on, goodness knows how many small plants, I lost count. Suffice to say that every windowsill in the cottage has been taken over by trays of young plants. Never mind that will give them a good start and they can go outside at the end of the month. It's certainly kept me busy today, but I got them all potted on, mainly because I know there is still a batch of them to arrive. Fortitious as well that they came just as the moon began to wax again.</span></span></strong><span style="color:#009900;"><br /></span><br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjuyr2L3KQyNgDNM-Lit-ehPajOB2W5nAleHisKXM9eOASDF9yNUia1dZkYA85r8BHOj4YEc9nei9jfG2dCwrMiMpsErkWqufIgt-xmDL50z-d29L8PR74TCoLBLps8FGFnh6pw/s1600-h/glorious.gif"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5055566186051032898" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjuyr2L3KQyNgDNM-Lit-ehPajOB2W5nAleHisKXM9eOASDF9yNUia1dZkYA85r8BHOj4YEc9nei9jfG2dCwrMiMpsErkWqufIgt-xmDL50z-d29L8PR74TCoLBLps8FGFnh6pw/s200/glorious.gif" border="0" /></a>Daisy Lupinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13673588364228846859noreply@blogger.com14tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28080603.post-48678432801137700472007-04-17T23:42:00.000+01:002007-04-18T01:14:09.725+01:00ONE SWALLOW A SUMMER DOTH NOT MAKE<p><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiRBj0DV1ksMc8EHKfzq9DGu5CAv6_M_DPKVZwwV5EVeLrqUrIZTchrcpO1OCWqhbASzJRzJGCRyVlW8bDJmOfDnYW3ccsugcY7dDESjwQmFA9OPfLDS7V3T3wk5Zh7IDr2L0cC/s1600-h/silver+birch.jpg"><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#999900;"><strong><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5054546928500639058" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiRBj0DV1ksMc8EHKfzq9DGu5CAv6_M_DPKVZwwV5EVeLrqUrIZTchrcpO1OCWqhbASzJRzJGCRyVlW8bDJmOfDnYW3ccsugcY7dDESjwQmFA9OPfLDS7V3T3wk5Zh7IDr2L0cC/s400/silver+birch.jpg" border="0" /></strong></span></a><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#999900;"><strong> <span style="color:#996633;">This is the Silver Birch tree that is in on the common ground behind my house and garden. This was taken in the early morning sunlight, which seems to be glinting on the new leaves which have just unfurled in the last couple of days. Look at that beautiful cloudless sky.</span><br /><br />I was sitting in my workroom on Monday afternoon and looked out of the window across the street to my neighbour's yard and barn when suddenly a bird swooped and swerved in front of it, yes, it was a swallow, then another appeared and for some minutes they performed their acrobatic flight around the yard. Today, Tuesday, they are no where to be seen. I have noted this happens every year, the only thing I can think of is that a few swallows make up an advanced party fly ahead and check out their summer habitat then return to report to the rest of the group who are winging there way here. I am confident within the next day or so they will all be wheeling and diving in the sky. The weather has turned slightly chiller which reminded me of the above adage which I have used as a title.</strong></span></p><p><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#999900;"><strong> </strong></span><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhumkeXPxOt83r6-pbs6fLA4KGCYuivV95nJDy3mEp48ErNE3kxi-NVlQo9eVoEZRQZ64u-uPfAxudVAyjMvV7cloq0c8EvG4nca74o5roCDdxvbhpUPzAJRiO0LeMqLq3XEoPH/s1600-h/barn.jpg"><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#999900;"><strong><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5054546017967572258" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhumkeXPxOt83r6-pbs6fLA4KGCYuivV95nJDy3mEp48ErNE3kxi-NVlQo9eVoEZRQZ64u-uPfAxudVAyjMvV7cloq0c8EvG4nca74o5roCDdxvbhpUPzAJRiO0LeMqLq3XEoPH/s400/barn.jpg" border="0" /></strong></span></a><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#996633;"><strong></strong></span></p><p><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#996633;"><strong>This is the dove cote entrance to the barn that the crows are using, if you enlarge the photo you can see a large stick they have not been able to get inside, and it has got stuck behind the guttering.</strong></span></p><p><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#999900;"><strong>I have been trying to photograph my crows, but they are such crafty birds. I got up early with the camera and went down into the garden as I noted from the bedroom window they were busy flying in and out the barn. I quietly positioned myself in the corner of the garden and waited, and waited and waited! I looked round over the common land behind and there were the cheeky birds just out of camera range sitting in a tree looking at me. So no luck yet, but I spent some time photographing various items which are illustrating this posting, explanations are underneath the photographs.<br /><br /></strong></span></p><p><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiLgpgchgh_MiyOmN2L2GgX9Q1VRSpoYE5FFO5Wjr9oYWPwQ1W8tVEkDDqx5mdJB8PRvuztV_ZH0SsSj80SqIirtGUWwFjuuFm2pI7jtKSbcCuTSPM8xj9Q0iY6itSxjKJUXF-v/s1600-h/lane.jpg"><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#999900;"><strong><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5054546619262993730" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiLgpgchgh_MiyOmN2L2GgX9Q1VRSpoYE5FFO5Wjr9oYWPwQ1W8tVEkDDqx5mdJB8PRvuztV_ZH0SsSj80SqIirtGUWwFjuuFm2pI7jtKSbcCuTSPM8xj9Q0iY6itSxjKJUXF-v/s400/lane.jpg" border="0" /></strong></span></a><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#999900;"><strong> <span style="color:#996633;">This is the ruin of an old forge [it has no proper roof just some corrugated iron thrown over some of it]. Inside, although the entrance is blocked up now, the forge fireplace is still in the corner. Look at the old wooden dovecote on the side. This is situated on the lane that leads away from the land behind my garden.</span><br /><br /></strong></span><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#999900;"><strong> On Sunday we entered the fifth moon of the celtic year in which every month has a tree and I did promise to follow the months and tell you a little about the tree of the month. The tree is the Willow, also known as pussy willow or withey. In herbal lore the bark of the willow is used as a pain killer, it contains an ingredient that forms salicylylous acid which is actually the active ingredient in aspirin. Which shows there is a lot of truth in old time herbal lore. The Willow tree is connected to water and is also a tree of the moon. It is one of the traditional woods to be added to the bonfires on Mayday evening. It is said that if you sit under the Willow Tree and listen you will hear the voices of the fairies when the wind stirs the leaves. To plant a Willow tree near your home is to protect it and its branches make superb wands or dowsing tools. You can also carry a little piece of Willow with you to protect you when travelling. Folklore tells tales of Willows uprooting themselves by night and stalking travellers!<br /><br /></strong></span></p><p><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgUqtHKn7WHNp3R_zYDKT7Q5dvC2TEjqlIC718MZ_PVaiRv7bfk8l2Cu489x3mw4hr_iKSZWCeOzrTccQPzmq6SGBstn-cEyACHvKAF5wmD6I7Tixsp3FQNhNcnWxo2xRJWU3Wx/s1600-h/sp+gard.jpg"><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#999900;"><strong><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5054547555565864306" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgUqtHKn7WHNp3R_zYDKT7Q5dvC2TEjqlIC718MZ_PVaiRv7bfk8l2Cu489x3mw4hr_iKSZWCeOzrTccQPzmq6SGBstn-cEyACHvKAF5wmD6I7Tixsp3FQNhNcnWxo2xRJWU3Wx/s400/sp+gard.jpg" border="0" /></strong></span></a><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#999900;"><strong> <span style="color:#996633;">These three photographs were taken at Easter when the garden was just showing signs of Spring growth, the beds look sparse but beside some of the markers there are tiny plantlings coming up. The next task will be to put down a new layer of bark chippings.<br /><br /></span></strong></span><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj57iM4SUYtdte-n41zan-iS5F_OO7F-UrbqGusFwfx1wheYs3kOKSQbjXtjorEcsflWDA5vwpb2MlFIvn7t7I3hFIhykzjTAjvC6rNtPwX_Br4XgZU2YJ_PdHE2DUayP7x_n08/s1600-h/sp+gard2.jpg"><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#996633;"><strong><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5054547267803055458" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj57iM4SUYtdte-n41zan-iS5F_OO7F-UrbqGusFwfx1wheYs3kOKSQbjXtjorEcsflWDA5vwpb2MlFIvn7t7I3hFIhykzjTAjvC6rNtPwX_Br4XgZU2YJ_PdHE2DUayP7x_n08/s400/sp+gard2.jpg" border="0" /></strong></span></a><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#996633;"><strong> This is my shrub corner, the lavender is sprouting new shoots and the broom is getting ready to flower and at the fore of the photograph my white lilac bush is showing off its new leaves.</strong></span></p><p><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"><br /><br /><strong><span style="color:#996633;"></span></strong></span></p><p><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjgk5gbaMjP9kX4jueRoy6DTEvFciEu5V0JlstSK71yfCmLq3wJ41C3bOfvFkwxucP3Xp7jcnsIy_st5NCSWHR5ukev6cf1guqL-Jun5cYbxoHi4uqrkpOxBV7kwflm-ZSZyg4D/s1600-h/sp+gard3.jpg"><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#996633;"><strong><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5054547826148803970" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjgk5gbaMjP9kX4jueRoy6DTEvFciEu5V0JlstSK71yfCmLq3wJ41C3bOfvFkwxucP3Xp7jcnsIy_st5NCSWHR5ukev6cf1guqL-Jun5cYbxoHi4uqrkpOxBV7kwflm-ZSZyg4D/s400/sp+gard3.jpg" border="0" /></strong></span></a><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#996633;"><strong> This is the bed I was hoeing before I stopped to take photos. The honeysuckle is flourishing and the new growth of herbs has started in the pots.</strong></span></p><p><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"><br /><br /><strong><span style="color:#999900;"></span></strong></span></p><p><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh53u44pKph2A-b1a8ea-bESKRTY9J71LdATmSelnUSECQHQyZJmNKYq0He-bQQWmYy-X7U12YFoY1dNwx-R7uEkaFDWLyR8tjcqLTzVOxy4ymBloGO9Q_SRTx0BdYTHf5O3fSZ/s1600-h/easter+tree.jpg"><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#999900;"><strong><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5054546249895806258" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh53u44pKph2A-b1a8ea-bESKRTY9J71LdATmSelnUSECQHQyZJmNKYq0He-bQQWmYy-X7U12YFoY1dNwx-R7uEkaFDWLyR8tjcqLTzVOxy4ymBloGO9Q_SRTx0BdYTHf5O3fSZ/s400/easter+tree.jpg" border="0" /></strong></span></a><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#999900;"><strong> <span style="color:#996633;">Here is the Easter Branch I decorated for Easter, as I have said before, we don't really do decorations over here, but this was a late attempt at me doing some. I will be more organised next year and do more decorations. Unfortunately, by the time this photograph was taken the chocolate minature bunnies seem to have all been eaten.</span></strong></span></p><p><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#999900;"><strong>Many thanks Pea, for telling me the name of the little girl in the red cloak in American comics, of course, it was Wendy the Little Witch. How could I have forgotten that.</strong></span><br /><br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEip1IHaBdbSYk9IY80IHAgoX5O3Ty42H6_dKSBYAXm3kpNGU9RWidkw7fvJNqtjJNDLKg-mtUi3MzQV-wu7VoWBM9givgNN4YecQavqX2Jlossl88Lj02x_UPm43MkSeZzAWMuk/s1600-h/glorious.gif"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5054545854758814994" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEip1IHaBdbSYk9IY80IHAgoX5O3Ty42H6_dKSBYAXm3kpNGU9RWidkw7fvJNqtjJNDLKg-mtUi3MzQV-wu7VoWBM9givgNN4YecQavqX2Jlossl88Lj02x_UPm43MkSeZzAWMuk/s200/glorious.gif" border="0" /></a> </p>Daisy Lupinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13673588364228846859noreply@blogger.com12tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28080603.post-65633226719321462062007-04-13T17:55:00.000+01:002007-04-14T01:56:52.277+01:00MEMORIES FROM A 1950'S CHILDHOOD<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiJuDRGUt0OfgniLYGAD_k5YOhcI0cnihW5us8yXGvJbbmWcDcu9c7mRuR6xFIbpJ600i9pbtzICRVGGIB8dSwDe_XyJGhZl-lcMOTiTJnmups16uXo-yZ6U3v-TKVMULiJL4Aj/s1600-h/1.jpg"><strong><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#006600;"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5053073000139576482" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiJuDRGUt0OfgniLYGAD_k5YOhcI0cnihW5us8yXGvJbbmWcDcu9c7mRuR6xFIbpJ600i9pbtzICRVGGIB8dSwDe_XyJGhZl-lcMOTiTJnmups16uXo-yZ6U3v-TKVMULiJL4Aj/s400/1.jpg" border="0" /></span></strong></a><strong><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#006600;"><br /><br />Some more days of beautiful Spring weather with the birds singing and the trees now bursting into leaf. I thought we had collared doves or wood pigeons nesting in the upper storey of our barn using the square opening which is the dovecote entrance, that was until yesterday morning. I went down to have my early morning check on the garden for new growth, and found a trail of large [and I mean large] branches across the garden on the roofs of the two small outbuildings and actually one half sticking out the dovecote entrance[which is large enough for a cat to get in]. How strange I thought and sat down quietly at the garden table to wait. Then I was rewarded a large black crow with twigs in mouth swooped down and flew into the barn. Our barn residents are black crows, maybe hooded crows, I am still checking. How amazing is that? There I am, at the moment, working on the Chunky Crow Book, and suddenly Crows have decided to live with me. By chance or what?<br /><br />There is a lull in the garden at the moment, yes the plants that are established are pushing up and growing, the magnolia is blooming and some beautiful tulips, weeds have been tackled but there is no actual planting to be done until my plant order arrives later this month, then it will be full speed ahead. So there is time for now to sit at the table working on various projects, enjoying the sunshine and just generally chilling out and being at one with the garden.<br /><br /></span></strong><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjxMLhuWDKwLNDhf8g12awa5NVSJ-UY2CrAuNTbfFjjVcD2UxMq5RB6EXZhi2kqtzs5_QuHBXIQSqLTX2yolSWIzEFhpy06pe7TMqn8TH_gy8MYhB8MrqBFiHlzJbt7-Cmh84_9/s1600-h/393433819_6fb2cb22cd.jpg"><strong><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#006600;"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5053070912785470546" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjxMLhuWDKwLNDhf8g12awa5NVSJ-UY2CrAuNTbfFjjVcD2UxMq5RB6EXZhi2kqtzs5_QuHBXIQSqLTX2yolSWIzEFhpy06pe7TMqn8TH_gy8MYhB8MrqBFiHlzJbt7-Cmh84_9/s400/393433819_6fb2cb22cd.jpg" border="0" /></span></strong></a><strong><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#006600;"><br /><br /><span style="color:#9999ff;">Also time to think about gardening in my childhood. I began to remember gardening at my grandparent's house in the Spring. I can remember sitting in the old shed with grandfather, the door would be thrown open to the mild weather and the air was permeated with the shed smells, linseed oil, potting compost and the heavy sweet aroma of my Grandfather's pipe its smoke twirling and swirling out towards the door. My Grandfather would sit at a makeshift bench glossy redbacked notebook and stubby pencil in hand making a list of needs for the garden that summer, grass seeds, seeds, bedding plants etc. He would then give this list to my Grandmother who would take it into the Seed Merchant's when she visited the town for Saturday shopping and the garden goods would be delivered in the Seed Merchant's van. How civilised!</span><br /><br /></span></strong><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgHx83NToxO7zICa6WhHKk4Fi6yvSHNAZsRqCndBy0UXNpzndCKQxoRQMSAFps6DjxURisCo-qb4V1CTvDN6QQ7N0UXhsgFNpyJ-ZXpr6-SYdwHUbwYeDM7WcY3lBQHCiiKUpg2/s1600-h/414336027_6a88a450fc.jpg"><strong><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#006600;"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5053071161893573746" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgHx83NToxO7zICa6WhHKk4Fi6yvSHNAZsRqCndBy0UXNpzndCKQxoRQMSAFps6DjxURisCo-qb4V1CTvDN6QQ7N0UXhsgFNpyJ-ZXpr6-SYdwHUbwYeDM7WcY3lBQHCiiKUpg2/s400/414336027_6a88a450fc.jpg" border="0" /></span></strong></a><strong><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#006600;"><br /><br />The above memory of my Grandfather and his garden led me on to thinking about <em>THE SATURDAY SHOPPING TRIP</em> [yes, the capitals are because it was a most important day].<br />From when I was a small child until I was about ten years old, every Saturday, I remember we went into the town for the SATURDAY SHOP. This is how those childhood weekends went.<br />On a Friday, my Mother would go to the local grocery store with a handwritten list which she would hand over the counter.<br /><br />This was before we had supermarkets in our area. Though I do remember when a supermarket did open in our area, opposite the local grocery store. I was so excited, I thought 'wow this must be like shopping in America'. Unfortunately, housewives did not have their own cars, or even drive, so it was soon discovered that the downside was having to carry your shopping home. As I was saying, before I got waylaid, on the Friday evening the door would ring and there would be a delivery boy with your box of weekly groceries where upon my Mum would get her purse and pay for the groceries. So that was all your dried goods etc so Saturday would be the weekend fresh food shop.<br /><br /></span></strong><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjx-EWHjwyrsGHGWgH-0L_zZh0u3gJHoEQR3REmg2P95AhecyYKSvNpVuyX45vrbG0uJ3TcNKJ1CF2qp1kIYLU1tjT73stvJ6LxEnQHZ0zg-W_KxGKDKxiG35z-h0FQOCRO83A0/s1600-h/ct5636.jpg"><strong><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#006600;"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5053071398116775058" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjx-EWHjwyrsGHGWgH-0L_zZh0u3gJHoEQR3REmg2P95AhecyYKSvNpVuyX45vrbG0uJ3TcNKJ1CF2qp1kIYLU1tjT73stvJ6LxEnQHZ0zg-W_KxGKDKxiG35z-h0FQOCRO83A0/s400/ct5636.jpg" border="0" /></span></strong></a><strong><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#006600;"> Entrance to covered market<br /><br />Every Saturday my Mother and I would get the 8.30 bus into the town and we would meet my Grandmother outside of the covered market. Before we go into the covered market, let me tell you about the Seed Merchant's. At this time of year my Grandmother would drop my Grandfather's order off at this shop. To me it was a very boring shop, not a lot of stock, but bays full of various grass seeds with a large metal scoop and a huge set of scales. The grass seed would be weighed and put into a sturdy brown bag and marked with type. I used to love to look at the packets of seeds in the racks, lovely colourful packets promising such wonderous glories from such tiny hard objects. Only later in the season did the shop become interesting when the annual bedding plants filled the shop to the <span style="color:#ff99ff;"><span style="color:#006600;">brim. There were also stacks of things such as onion sets, gladioli bulbs and seed potatoes. Then towards the back of the shop were the bays of fertilisers and potting composts a mixture of pungent musty smells, of fishand blood, bonemeal, and john innes</span> </span><span style="color:#9999ff;"><span style="color:#006600;">compost. The items on the list would be picked out, weighed and then delivered later in the day to your home.</span><br /><br /><br /></span></span></strong><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjy8I6xwyP8oCX1NrdgrjS-7tEze5JyXKMlhEHu5HIQYn2KQT2a3MwiJlcq8ckHCALPkqQYqm6QRIrg2n_BfeABGp5waZze0scY4YCBhJBm3AEu2207jxjWj6ga_2ZrUmNuZXak/s1600-h/ct5626.jpg"><strong><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#9999ff;"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5053071295037559938" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjy8I6xwyP8oCX1NrdgrjS-7tEze5JyXKMlhEHu5HIQYn2KQT2a3MwiJlcq8ckHCALPkqQYqm6QRIrg2n_BfeABGp5waZze0scY4YCBhJBm3AEu2207jxjWj6ga_2ZrUmNuZXak/s400/ct5626.jpg" border="0" /></span></strong></a><strong><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#9999ff;"> Down into the market<br /><br />Then it was on to the covered market. On a Saturday morning huge trestle tables were put up in the aisles of the market and the country women straight from the farms would come in to sell their wares. Everyone seemed to have a favourite lady and if you were a regular anything she did not have a lot of would be kept under the trestle for you. These were no fay earth mothers but rough hewn ruddy cheeked farmer's wives with short sensible haircuts, rough hands, berets and sensible belted overcoats and laced up brogues who spoke with broad Cumbrian accents. I remember huge wicker baskets of eggs complete with the odd feathers, Madge the farmer's wife would sometimes pick an extra brown speckled egg out and say to me ..<em>and here is an extra one for you tea missy</em>. We would also buy in season freshly picked vegetables and in spring she would have newspaper wrapped plantlings for our gardens, such as calendula, nasturiums and bunches of yellow daffodils. There would be freshly churned butter and seasonal items, bunches of holly, and in February when you just began to think Winter would never end she would bring in bunches of beautiful white snowdrops, my Grandmother always bought me a bunch of the first snowdrops, and I loved to sit and look at them in a lovely topaz coloured bowl my Mother kept for snowdrops. After the farmer's wives it was straight to the butcher to pick up the Sunday joint to roast and some other cut of meat to keep going until the Tuesday, when my Mother would return to town again. We would finish off at the fruit stall and last of all the bakers, where I could choose a cake for tea.<br /><br /></span></strong><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEher5-dxMf40yfmoaVOXYqIgK25N9CvGDBe1YmXJUWNaH0me0UP0q7Q8w4c1WcvdyChzu0D_wjBYtxcsTtcC01pleWRuhIT006Jfm6IGIRGqphhdcAxgzoinfgnUzE5qbXOt7iq/s1600-h/393433822_bec14585e1.jpg"><strong><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#9999ff;"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5053071024454620258" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEher5-dxMf40yfmoaVOXYqIgK25N9CvGDBe1YmXJUWNaH0me0UP0q7Q8w4c1WcvdyChzu0D_wjBYtxcsTtcC01pleWRuhIT006Jfm6IGIRGqphhdcAxgzoinfgnUzE5qbXOt7iq/s400/393433822_bec14585e1.jpg" border="0" /></span></strong></a><strong><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#006600;"><span style="color:#9999ff;"><br /><br />When we returned home we would eat our lunch, my Father would get ready for an afternoon of sport and my Mother and I would return to the town, no sturdy shopping bags this time, this was a more genteel outing. This time we would meet my Grandmother and her sister, and her sister's step-grandson outside Marks and Spencers, which the adults browsed around while the boy and I became engrossed in one of our imaginery games, were we in a store, no way, we were superheros battling to save mankind amongst the racks of clothes. Then came the highlight of our afteroon, we would retire to a cafe for tea and toasted teacakes, though in our case, Lemonade and a chocolate biscuit or in summer ice-cream. The grownups would drone along gossiping whilst we brought out our treasures....American Comics, both D and I would avidly swap these, we were American Comic fanatics, he had many more than me, but apart from Superman and Batman I used to love Casper, Lulu, Little Richie and my favourite and I can't remember her name, she was a little witch with a red cloak. After the cafe there was more shop browsing whilst we resumed world saving, then the final highlight of the afternoon, a visit to the one newagents in town that stocked American comics. Should it be a Superman or a funny? What did that one say Superman's dying from Green Krytonite, it's got to be that one, yes! Oh the delicious agonising thrill of trying to decide which one to buy that week, it was almost, but not quite as good as my weekly visit on a Monday to the library. Then goodbyes were said and home we went for tea, me clutching my new comic. Those were the Saturday's of my childhood.</span><br /><br /></span></strong><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj72uVzoCZqaNIRbCqWW60RON5cHhiAyE6ssBDBMXXXEuHfiTJI9-8UrFEs3RhYOPXDlryvbN-ml8mv36SSChmbzhdR2an9U9JEpZy1NSlso7CC6f-kUlGe4ZmwpfrBpQN_x0XC/s1600-h/sept+77.jpg"><strong><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#006600;"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5053075061723878594" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj72uVzoCZqaNIRbCqWW60RON5cHhiAyE6ssBDBMXXXEuHfiTJI9-8UrFEs3RhYOPXDlryvbN-ml8mv36SSChmbzhdR2an9U9JEpZy1NSlso7CC6f-kUlGe4ZmwpfrBpQN_x0XC/s320/sept+77.jpg" border="0" /></span></strong></a><strong><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#006600;"><br />I note there is a challenge going around for an old photograph of yourself. Well here goes! Above is a photograph of my other half and myself in September 1977 [Yes it is another of those strange photos that have turned pinky brown over the years]. It is a momentous photograph, I think we have both just sold our souls and become part of the system, the hippy dream faded away. My husband no longer had very long hair and a beard, he just has normal length hair for the time [the moustache has long gone thank goodness]. I had just had my very nearly waist length hair cut and styled and I was pregnant with our son. That is our beautiful cat Jasper, who lived to a ripe old age of thirteen. We look as though we are taking life very seriously. I may publish some more photos next posting, to show how you can watch my hair grow bigger and bigger!</span></strong><br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgnUQgXpyZw8kNVLIFIaKNSLIHyVuHTZuDeKFLILp5FswXHT2HEeti2LHjnbSLdVzqdzHnabeeDQooTxpeKny6wWfLErDT5qO9qOLgCo-NcazAMUUaLxFaG8sqJpXYZkSosPHJV/s1600-h/glorious.gif"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5053070577778021442" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgnUQgXpyZw8kNVLIFIaKNSLIHyVuHTZuDeKFLILp5FswXHT2HEeti2LHjnbSLdVzqdzHnabeeDQooTxpeKny6wWfLErDT5qO9qOLgCo-NcazAMUUaLxFaG8sqJpXYZkSosPHJV/s200/glorious.gif" border="0" /></a>Daisy Lupinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13673588364228846859noreply@blogger.com18tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28080603.post-26538167725207984632007-04-09T10:56:00.000+01:002007-04-09T12:45:36.298+01:00THE THINKING BLOGGER AWARDS [THE OSCARS OF THE BLOGS]<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhZUsFbznR7PThggNb1d7Fzi7L1mTr4viLmC7pibLQRrHziNKn2NtKwsT9yC614U0_O5kio0j3CfAwigyuQ8u3rHTU0kodZmF6jABqu9Tgj7KFH3_NRp31oG-A9ftow0DI7LvWH/s1600-h/vr9230.jpg"><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#00cccc;"><strong><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5051385761585925346" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhZUsFbznR7PThggNb1d7Fzi7L1mTr4viLmC7pibLQRrHziNKn2NtKwsT9yC614U0_O5kio0j3CfAwigyuQ8u3rHTU0kodZmF6jABqu9Tgj7KFH3_NRp31oG-A9ftow0DI7LvWH/s400/vr9230.jpg" border="0" /></strong></span></a><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#00cccc;"><strong><br /><br /></strong></span><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#33ccff;"><strong>Sorry, just couldn't resist the above title. I would like to thank Lila of </strong></span><a href="http://indigopears.blogspot.com/"><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#ffcc66;"><strong>http://indigopears.blogspot.com/</strong></span></a><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#33ccff;"><strong> for nominating me for a <em><span style="color:#ffcc66;">Thinking Blogger Award</span></em> and also my stylist, my personal trainer, my hairdresser, my driver, the man who counts my money, the man that punches the paps if they take a photo of me when I am <em>tired and</em> <em>emotional</em> lol! In turn, I would like to nominate these five people:-<br /><br />1. Robyn of </strong></span><a href="http://goodnessgraciousmissr.blogspot.com/"><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#ffcc66;"><strong>http://goodnessgraciousmissr.blogspot.com/</strong></span></a><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#33ccff;"><strong> There is always plenty to mull over and think about here on Robyn's site. Robyn who is obviously a kindred spirit to me.<br /><br />2.Tinker of </strong></span><a href="http://tinkerart.typepad.com/"><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#ffcc66;"><strong>http://tinkerart.typepad.com/</strong></span></a><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#33ccff;"><strong><span style="color:#ffcc66;"> </span>It would be a much duller world without Tinker's rambling stories, funny, serious or just plaint scary they make my day no one, can ramble and go off on a tangent like Tinker.<br /><br />3. Gemma of </strong></span><a href="http://www.gemmashouse.blogspot.com/"><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#ffcc66;"><strong>http://www.gemmashouse.blogspot.com/</strong></span></a><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#33ccff;"><strong> A quiet blog but one with a lady in charge who has done some deep thinking and knows some very deep knowledge I believe.<br /><br />4. Nature Girl of </strong></span><a href="http://nature-trail.blogspot.com/"><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#ffcc66;"><strong>http://nature-trail.blogspot.com/</strong></span></a><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#33ccff;"><strong> For her poetry, thoughts and wonderful artistic photographs.<br /><br />5. Janet of </strong></span><a href="http://jkbees.blogspot.com/"><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#ffcc66;"><strong>http://jkbees.blogspot.com/</strong></span></a><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#33ccff;"><strong> A lady who tries so hard to be true to herself and has refound her creativity mojo and has interesting points of view.<br /><br />There you go those are my nominations for the <em><span style="color:#ffcc66;">Thinking Bloggers Award</span></em>. I will wear my sidebar badge proudly.<br /><br /><br /></strong></span><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#33ccff;"><strong><p></strong></span><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhAuxr2yZe3-68B4EWXv4orJetgIw57sY7RAqvUkjNlpSy4soyaFKFr0HuTgfuZMdt0R6A9tLhyphenhyphenOEW4W6DjMib2Re1FZ_gJRQGd04NPAmaUWoPKte2LWSMEaaOvtdggQVFaCScY/s1600-h/vk7269.jpg"><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#33ccff;"><strong><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5051384722203839666" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhAuxr2yZe3-68B4EWXv4orJetgIw57sY7RAqvUkjNlpSy4soyaFKFr0HuTgfuZMdt0R6A9tLhyphenhyphenOEW4W6DjMib2Re1FZ_gJRQGd04NPAmaUWoPKte2LWSMEaaOvtdggQVFaCScY/s400/vk7269.jpg" border="0" /></strong></span></a><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#33ccff;"><strong><br /><br /><span style="color:#ffcc66;">I have recently added another sidebar badge that I found on Robyn's blog, which I believe originally came from this blog,</span><span style="color:#33ccff;"> </span></strong></span><a href="http://www.tartx.com/blog/?page_id=233"><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#33ccff;"><strong>http://www.tartx.com/blog/?page_id=233</strong></span></a><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#ffcc66;"><strong>. I notice that more of us are using it and that Kai has talked about this issue on her blog </strong></span><a href="http://kaibluecreations.blogspot.com/"><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#ffcc66;"><strong><span style="color:#33ccff;">h</span><span style="color:#33ccff;">ttp://kaibluecreations.blogspot.com/</span></strong></span></a><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#33ccff;"><strong><span style="color:#ffcc66;"> . Basically, it is <em><span style="color:#33ccff;">Blogging without Obligation</span></em>, to me it means we are all busy people, we blog to put our thoughts down, to make friends with other bloggers and to receive and reply to comments. Now some people are lucky and can do this on a day to day basis, but some whether through family, jobs or just plain business doing things we enjoy, are not so on the ball as every day. Then that horrid sense of guilt and obligation creeps in, oh I better not go to bed until I have commented on so and so's blog, they might think I am not bothering anymore. This badge showing on my sidebar means, I am still visiting you and commenting, some days and weeks more than others, I work up my list and down my list of contacts, so not everyone gets a comment everyday. If I am busy I won't be around as much, but if it was anything drastic that was happening and I was not going to be around for a while I would somehow get a quick posting up to inform people. Let's keep blogging heartwarming and not let it descend into stress and disenchantment my motto will be <em><span style="color:#33ccff;">WE LIVE FIRST</span><span style="color:#33ccff;">,</span></em> <em><span style="color:#33ccff;">THEN WE BLOG,</span></em> otherwise we would run out of things to blog about.</span><br /><br /></strong></span><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh4EpaHZgE4pvcG2JNm32NG8wDdhc9cWSGhyphenhypheniF_0w6xSZSz9OSz-55IMMfM65QR__5g8tAfMWFrYcb8YF5kNN_dR75lkUIaCZa3NAtB79nOk6HTLyZVauQnG1BF6DYNqRUu5R8F/s1600-h/vm7614.jpg"><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#33ccff;"><strong><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5051384958427040962" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh4EpaHZgE4pvcG2JNm32NG8wDdhc9cWSGhyphenhypheniF_0w6xSZSz9OSz-55IMMfM65QR__5g8tAfMWFrYcb8YF5kNN_dR75lkUIaCZa3NAtB79nOk6HTLyZVauQnG1BF6DYNqRUu5R8F/s400/vm7614.jpg" border="0" /></strong></span></a><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#33ccff;"><strong><br /><br />It is Easter Monday afternoon now, I don't know how many of you have an official or Bank Holiday added on to Easter, but now we are nearing the end of the Easter Holiday. I have had a fantastic time, well according to my idea of what I wanted to enjoy I have. Haven't been anywhere since Thursday, just in my cottage and garden. Two days of brilliant weather and two days of so so weather, so I managed to do a little bit of everything. How content I feel after allowing myself all this self indulgence. And what have I done over Easter? Well, the Easter type things first, cooked a delicious Easter Sunday Meal, drank wine, ate chocolate. Tidied round the garden, hoeing weed clearing checking up on new growth, chatting to neighbours, sitting in the sun finishing off one book I was reading and starting a Charles de Lint book I have been waiting to read. Read some delicious magazines and dreamt about owning the wonderful gardens and rooms shown in them. Watched a couple of dvds, including one of my favourite indulgent ones <em>Practical Magic</em>, from the book by Alice Hoffman, it never fails to cheer. Burnt some wonderful incense, the most fragrant I have had for ages. Brought a box of wonderfully illustrated children's books that were my kids and mine, out of the cupboard, as I have decided they need a bookshelf of their own so I can look at the illustrations and I can fill the cupboard up with some of the sorted boxes lying around. All in all a really good Easter, which I will finish off this afternoon, with a list making session for the garden, house and future projects. Oh, and I pulled off all the images I need for the Chunky Crow Book project I am in. I'll be assembling it this week, all 22 pages of it.<br /><br /></strong></span><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgc4u_wSE1cwaz0-K-CRIsucva0eONExRree8BNkagcRk5zfy147vaOHlEg6uOr1zq_bUY0VI7kT9E4esr0V1N2NbmpJTIHoUav7LhEkPTRuWGU-6d0meHtyvG1D1QKMAdw6BFC/s1600-h/vn8147.jpg"><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#33ccff;"><strong><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5051385147405602002" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgc4u_wSE1cwaz0-K-CRIsucva0eONExRree8BNkagcRk5zfy147vaOHlEg6uOr1zq_bUY0VI7kT9E4esr0V1N2NbmpJTIHoUav7LhEkPTRuWGU-6d0meHtyvG1D1QKMAdw6BFC/s400/vn8147.jpg" border="0" /></strong></span></a><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#33ccff;"><strong><br /><br /><span style="color:#ffcc66;">If the sun comes out again, I may return to the garden this afternoon, or if not, I will sort through the children's books and then tidy up my computer, its getting cluttered and untidy so I will start transfering things onto disc so I can empty up some more memory. I did sent out a lot of email easter cards, but I don't think you all will have got them I had some returned saying wrong email address, that was news to me, as my emails themselves have been getting through to you all. So I hope you have all had a wonderful Easter as I have had, but in your own special ways.</span></strong></span></p><p></a></p><br /><br /><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5051384120908418194" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg1x_ngrPFVuNsidIBXQDmTYncCjCU7iJeWC-o8aGjxAfH8bCaGegWaiuYa93yqiF7NOs3dojBZRPPdsqNM5S6m9EZ-7ZqDRuKGBUZbR0BkhTkE0DEaX8-CVAHJwvjpAiBrBlCT/s200/glorious.gif" border="0" /></a>Daisy Lupinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13673588364228846859noreply@blogger.com18tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28080603.post-51252785762014683132007-04-05T22:45:00.000+01:002007-04-06T00:10:21.818+01:00APRIL COME SHE WILL WHEN STREAMS ARE RIPE AND SWELLED WITH RAIN<p><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh-SSap9HvGGRv3GjaChOgz2p68cXjRw4pl0YKl3dauzNUWf56gQIoJjAWLzAzJHu6fTi4fbtNNlzFfsq6YKdRGZQOZzi-hD96IE9xX1cKU0vVu2ql31m28GmEzghn3GAUq25CW/s1600-h/16.jpg"><strong><span style="color:#9999ff;"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5050072723059080674" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh-SSap9HvGGRv3GjaChOgz2p68cXjRw4pl0YKl3dauzNUWf56gQIoJjAWLzAzJHu6fTi4fbtNNlzFfsq6YKdRGZQOZzi-hD96IE9xX1cKU0vVu2ql31m28GmEzghn3GAUq25CW/s400/16.jpg" border="0" /></span></strong></a><strong><span style="color:#9999ff;"><br /><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">April, above, in the words of Paul Simon. We have had a beautiful start to April, unseasonably warm sunny days without any wind, but still getting a strong frost at night. You really have to temper your planting of young plants, the warm days beguile you into thinking how much they will love to be planted out in the fresh air, then the cold night hits. I planted out some trailing verbena, which I have never tried before, yesterday and woke up this morning to see the frost on the grass. With heavy heart I made my way to the garden and looked, oh dear I thought I had lost them, but tonight after a good few hours soaking up the sunshine they look as though they have perked up. I do hope so, I must restrain from too much planting.</span><br /><br /></span></strong><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiSHiGo6UTqrh9vzKte_gtwSg9ocniEqNm-_JGVsQiha5xHF2xuQTxe6qBtv_cfQFpsAQPVHFtkJUfFT9ehx_3ningigSZO9Yk-S85c2KJKECmm5gMkgoNWzzGEujFcBbX0O8jy/s1600-h/franklin_mint_house_of_erte_no_box_P0000013568S0008T2.jpg"><strong><span style="color:#33ff33;"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5050076622889385490" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiSHiGo6UTqrh9vzKte_gtwSg9ocniEqNm-_JGVsQiha5xHF2xuQTxe6qBtv_cfQFpsAQPVHFtkJUfFT9ehx_3ningigSZO9Yk-S85c2KJKECmm5gMkgoNWzzGEujFcBbX0O8jy/s400/franklin_mint_house_of_erte_no_box_P0000013568S0008T2.jpg" border="0" /></span></strong></a><strong><span style="color:#9999ff;"><span style="color:#33ff33;"><br /><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"></span><br /></span><span style="color:#33cc00;"><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;">We have had wonderful Moons since the beginning of April, waxing, full and now waning, but brilliantly clear and a fantastic cool icy lemon colour, one night, in particular it had a wonderful hazy aura round it for part of the night. So four wonderful nights of sleep for me with the Moon shining in my bedroom window, and as Spring has arrived and the bedroom winter is open wider the night breeze was making the mirrored discs on my hanging window ornaments chase around the bedroom, a wonderful free light show. I love an ice cold bedroom, I usually have the radiator knocked off at night, and to be toasty and warm under a really thick duvet. It's the mixing of cold and hot, bliss, sort of like a sauna and cold plunges I suppose.</span><br /></span><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"></span><br /><br /></span></strong><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj5LxjRFR4FHzvRvtyGl8kTAb6E9Xfw3GEtbhuJsxmKJz67v7mdlO4TUn9RL15CoR6BVKT1jOP4fue8197dX5B7FmR_IWttTNxtzD5Q7bM6uTdK353RVgiGUV6ruGarMGJBjuN_/s1600-h/robynmoondoll.jpg"><strong><span style="color:#9999ff;"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5050073363009207810" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj5LxjRFR4FHzvRvtyGl8kTAb6E9Xfw3GEtbhuJsxmKJz67v7mdlO4TUn9RL15CoR6BVKT1jOP4fue8197dX5B7FmR_IWttTNxtzD5Q7bM6uTdK353RVgiGUV6ruGarMGJBjuN_/s400/robynmoondoll.jpg" border="0" /></span></strong></a><strong><span style="color:#9999ff;"><br /><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;">Speaking of the Moon, the photograph above is of the Moon Goddess doll that Robyn made for me as part of the Hello Dolly Swap. This is not a very good photo of it, and I will have to take some proper ones, but at least you can see it. She is all white with golden eyes and some glittery moon net. Her hands are above her head holding up a Full Moon. She is adorned with objects with meaning in moonlore. In her little bag she carries a silver coin, crystals and precious stones. She also carries a little scroll telling lots of things that are connected to the Moon, such as colours, herbs, flowers jewels etc. I just love her, she obviously sits in my bedroom window with my moonstones at Full Moon. Thank you Robyn.</span><br /><br /></span></strong><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhHNtzoqF1fvZb_l0VJKM5qXBV1D4IK3uzWlPW7zArE8HSCnhBgRc92-RSa0FTlOO2ILWje2tr6yqBSVqz7k0AnNTAwL6t54iwIebbAOynlRgof9R3sDHpRQagG8hdKULo4FdMM/s1600-h/Incense-Giftbox-002.jpg"><strong><span style="color:#9999ff;"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5050076807572979234" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhHNtzoqF1fvZb_l0VJKM5qXBV1D4IK3uzWlPW7zArE8HSCnhBgRc92-RSa0FTlOO2ILWje2tr6yqBSVqz7k0AnNTAwL6t54iwIebbAOynlRgof9R3sDHpRQagG8hdKULo4FdMM/s400/Incense-Giftbox-002.jpg" border="0" /></span></strong></a><strong><span style="color:#9999ff;"><br /><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"></span><br /><span style="color:#33cc00;"><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;">Does anyone else smudge, or clear their house with incense. I am a great believer in it. I usually get my special incense from a little shop that does postal order in Glastonbury. They do two lovely ones, one for house protection and one for clearing away bad energy. Sometimes I think if unhappy things have been happening or you have a lot of unhappiness or sorrow it can cling to the atomsphere of the house sort of multiplying until you are caught in a spiral of unhappiness that, for want of a better word, 'feeds' upon the negativity creating more of the same. To get rid of it you need to open all the windows, light the incense in every room or alternatively go through the rooms with a smudge stick letting the bad vibes fly out through the window. Try doing this and at the same time thinking a happy thought or singing a happy song even. Spring, even if your house doesn't feel negative, is a great time to clear the house for the year like this. Sort of like mental, or mind spring cleaning.</span><br /></span><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"></span><br /><br /></span></strong><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhh3h5cUCO52t7DhLw91EIqailtJcqBpZOIQ3yt4LyOHGQx97bPKvz4WPgAY1_tSdfEeXclzfCRouWVKY9lmWNcFEeB5ovd1E9opgE6ZX-YoMpz6YzOXfzpsTV8R6DrnZYmGVyY/s1600-h/0486995062_128_Dover_Full%252520Color%252520Holiday%252520Vignettes%252520CD%25252dROM%252520and%252520Book.jpg"><strong><span style="color:#9999ff;"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5050072860498034162" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhh3h5cUCO52t7DhLw91EIqailtJcqBpZOIQ3yt4LyOHGQx97bPKvz4WPgAY1_tSdfEeXclzfCRouWVKY9lmWNcFEeB5ovd1E9opgE6ZX-YoMpz6YzOXfzpsTV8R6DrnZYmGVyY/s400/0486995062_128_Dover_Full%252520Color%252520Holiday%252520Vignettes%252520CD%25252dROM%252520and%252520Book.jpg" border="0" /></span></strong></a><strong><span style="color:#9999ff;"><br /><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;">I have been running my Local History Group tonight and I am pleased to report that it really is going from strength to strength, the idea of an illustrated lecture with a speaker one month and a meeting to discuss items the next seems to be bringing people in. Every time I learn something I didn't know, and someone usually tells me a snippet of history of the village history. We are having an open day at the end of the month, where people can come and see us informally, they can look at what we have researched and found and bring items to show us that could be of interest. It's free and there are coffee and biscuits, so I'm sure people will pop in and out.</span><br /><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"></span><br /></span></strong><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"><strong><span style="color:#9999ff;">Time now to start relaxing for Easter, forget about sorting, serious gardening, housework, just have an indulgent few days doing whatever takes my fancy, I mean if that happens to be gardening thats fine. Really though, I have got a pile of books that are just about tippling over that are waiting to be read, I really could do with sitting in the garden reading and whittling that pile down a bit.</span></strong> </span></p><p><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"></span></p><p align="center"><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;color:#ff6666;"><strong>A HAPPY EASTER TO YOU ALL AND DON'T EAT TOO MUCH CHOCOLATE. WELL GO ON THEN YOU CAN IT IS EASTER!</strong></span></p><p><br /><br /></p><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi2Om7f7CuZlOCFRWgzu7zgp9PcBgpX-wbFJkLaqiUsPX7gz1dFf9SDwNIGNGJJ-AVliOY56h4f_9UhMyk4C81MFdkSZtvnQwtkr12ifSenl2AN3eP4_-w5HwLukuTwS-1yuA0Y/s1600-h/glorious.gif"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5050072619979865554" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi2Om7f7CuZlOCFRWgzu7zgp9PcBgpX-wbFJkLaqiUsPX7gz1dFf9SDwNIGNGJJ-AVliOY56h4f_9UhMyk4C81MFdkSZtvnQwtkr12ifSenl2AN3eP4_-w5HwLukuTwS-1yuA0Y/s200/glorious.gif" border="0" /></a>Daisy Lupinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13673588364228846859noreply@blogger.com16tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28080603.post-385887251329205702007-04-03T18:09:00.000+01:002007-04-03T20:24:25.826+01:00'HER BRIGHTNESS'<p><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh-mq12jQSGQRDnzfxZRlHKvR1EbmhBDtMzzIiyPljIJ5M5XCg6njAYRMXDl8h3b8e4e7KKS1TIFnqNBk88rE-p3Tm7nwee96Z2o7ntb_s0N7hvJ-lMA_RDkerq0wMkQQpaXMap/s1600-h/celta.jpg"><strong><span style="color:#33cc00;"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5049275735723367762" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh-mq12jQSGQRDnzfxZRlHKvR1EbmhBDtMzzIiyPljIJ5M5XCg6njAYRMXDl8h3b8e4e7KKS1TIFnqNBk88rE-p3Tm7nwee96Z2o7ntb_s0N7hvJ-lMA_RDkerq0wMkQQpaXMap/s400/celta.jpg" border="0" /></span></strong></a><strong><span style="color:#33cc00;"><br /><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">Since the <span style="color:#cc66cc;"><em>Hello Dolly Group</em></span> were making Moon Goddess dolls in March, there have been a number of queries and emails flying round about the naming of lunar months. Lila gave a link to some names in the Farmers Almanac and Gemma mentioned some wonderful Native American names. I know three other sets of lunar month names, two sets of Celtic names and an Anglo-Saxon set. I am setting out a table below of these lunar names and telling a little bit about them.</span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"></span><br /></span></strong><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"><strong><span style="color:#33cc00;">First of all there is the Celtic Lunar Tree calendar. There is great controvesy over this calendar and some people think that Robert Graves made this calendar up, others think that is is the original Celtic Calendar, the months are male and female. I am putting down below which trees own which month. I may tell you more about this calendar each month on the appropriate day, and some of the tree lore that goes with it.<br /><br /></span></strong><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhRCu9zjqENDBNFmcpQDJ2lrujw9APo5cvXnY5tdZkSy1uzGzh3zqPJGyGQ0WbVTWROOq1R7w-7MjOOjHGNNxjlJWKuMb1sC43iYgdms9xLIWUpI5JHqtS5SSAoJb2oKh_mlYfa/s1600-h/birch.jpg"><strong><span style="color:#33cc00;"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5049275263276965186" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhRCu9zjqENDBNFmcpQDJ2lrujw9APo5cvXnY5tdZkSy1uzGzh3zqPJGyGQ0WbVTWROOq1R7w-7MjOOjHGNNxjlJWKuMb1sC43iYgdms9xLIWUpI5JHqtS5SSAoJb2oKh_mlYfa/s400/birch.jpg" border="0" /></span></strong></a></span><strong><span style="color:#33cc00;"><br /><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"></span><br /></span></strong><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"><a href="http://www.dutchie.org/Tracy/tree.html#birch"><strong><span style="color:#33cc00;">Birch</span></strong></a><strong><span style="color:#33cc00;"> ~ </span><span style="color:#cc66cc;">Dec 24 - Jan 20<br /></span></strong><a href="http://www.dutchie.org/Tracy/tree.html#rowan"><strong><span style="color:#33cc00;">Rowan</span></strong></a><strong><span style="color:#33cc00;"> ~ <span style="color:#cc66cc;">Jan 21 - Feb 17</span><br /></span></strong><a href="http://www.dutchie.org/Tracy/tree.html#ash"><strong><span style="color:#33cc00;">Ash</span></strong></a><strong><span style="color:#33cc00;"> ~ </span><span style="color:#cc66cc;">Feb 18 - March 17<br /></span></strong><a href="http://www.dutchie.org/Tracy/tree.html#alder"><strong><span style="color:#33cc00;">Alder</span></strong></a><strong><span style="color:#33cc00;"> ~ </span><span style="color:#cc66cc;">March 18 - April 14<br /></span></strong><a href="http://www.dutchie.org/Tracy/tree.html#willow"><strong><span style="color:#33cc00;">Willow</span></strong></a><strong><span style="color:#33cc00;"> ~ <span style="color:#cc66cc;">April 15 - May 12</span><br /></span></strong><a href="http://www.dutchie.org/Tracy/tree.html#hawthorn"><strong><span style="color:#33cc00;">Hawthorn</span></strong></a><strong><span style="color:#33cc00;"> ~ <span style="color:#cc66cc;">May 13 - June 9</span><br /></span></strong><a href="http://www.dutchie.org/Tracy/tree.html#oak"><strong><span style="color:#33cc00;">Oak</span></strong></a><strong><span style="color:#33cc00;"> ~ <span style="color:#cc66cc;">June 10 - July 7</span><br /></span></strong><a href="http://www.dutchie.org/Tracy/tree.html#holly"><strong><span style="color:#33cc00;">Holly</span></strong></a><strong><span style="color:#33cc00;"> ~ <span style="color:#cc66cc;">July 8 - Aug 4</span><br /></span></strong><a href="http://www.dutchie.org/Tracy/hazel"><strong><span style="color:#33cc00;">Hazel</span></strong></a><strong><span style="color:#33cc00;"> ~ <span style="color:#cc66cc;">Aug 5 - Sept 1</span><br /></span></strong><a href="http://www.dutchie.org/Tracy/tree.html#vine"><strong><span style="color:#33cc00;">Vine</span></strong></a><strong><span style="color:#33cc00;"> ~ <span style="color:#cc66cc;">Sept 2 - Sept 29</span><br /></span></strong><a href="http://www.dutchie.org/Tracy/tree.html#ivy"><strong><span style="color:#33cc00;">Ivy</span></strong></a><strong><span style="color:#33cc00;"> ~ <span style="color:#cc66cc;">Sept 30 - Oct 27</span><br /></span></strong><a href="http://www.dutchie.org/Tracy/tree.html#reed"><strong><span style="color:#33cc00;">Reed</span></strong></a><strong><span style="color:#33cc00;"> ~ <span style="color:#cc66cc;">Oct 28 - Nov 24</span><br /></span></strong><a href="http://www.dutchie.org/Tracy/tree.html#elder"><strong><span style="color:#33cc00;">Elder</span></strong></a><strong><span style="color:#33cc00;"> ~ <span style="color:#cc66cc;">Nov 25 - Dec 23</span><br /></span></strong><a href="http://www.dutchie.org/Tracy/tree.html#furze"><strong><span style="color:#33cc00;">Furze/Gorse</span></strong></a><strong><span style="color:#33cc00;"> ~ <span style="color:#cc66cc;">Spring Equinox</span><br /></span></strong><a href="http://www.dutchie.org/Tracy/tree.html#heather"><strong><span style="color:#33cc00;">Heather</span></strong></a><strong><span style="color:#33cc00;"> ~ <span style="color:#cc66cc;">summer Solstice</span><br /></span></strong><a href="http://www.dutchie.org/Tracy/tree.html#poplar"><strong><span style="color:#33cc00;">Poplar/Aspen</span></strong></a><strong><span style="color:#33cc00;"> ~ <span style="color:#cc66cc;">Fall equinox</span><br /></span></strong><a href="http://www.dutchie.org/Tracy/tree.html#yew"><strong><span style="color:#33cc00;">Yew</span></strong></a><strong><span style="color:#33cc00;"> ~ <span style="color:#cc66cc;">Day before Winter Solstice</span><br /></span></strong><a href="http://www.dutchie.org/Tracy/tree.html#silver"><strong><span style="color:#33cc00;">Silver Fir</span></strong></a><strong><span style="color:#33cc00;"> ~ <span style="color:#cc66cc;">Winter Solstice</span> </span></strong></span></p><p><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"><a href="http://www.dutchie.org/Tracy/tree.html#mistle"><strong><span style="color:#33cc00;">Mistletoe</span></strong></a><strong><span style="color:#33cc00;"> ~ <span style="color:#cc66cc;">Day after Winter Solstice</span><br /><br /></span></strong></span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"></span><br /><strong><span style="color:#33cc00;"><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#cc66cc;">The earliest known Celtic calendar is one called the Coligny calendar, and it probably dates from the 1st Century BC. It names the lunar months, but is slightly more complicated than than as it begins each month with a full moon and the calendar covers a 30 year cycle with 5 cycles of 62 lunar months and 1 cycle of 61. It divides each month into fortnights instead ofweeks and the year is divided into 13 months.</span><br /><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;">Samonios <span style="color:#cc66cc;">October/November</span> Seed-Fall</span><br /><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;">Dumannios <span style="color:#cc66cc;">Nov</span><span style="color:#cc66cc;">ember/December</span> Darkest Depths </span><br /><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;">Riuros <span style="color:#cc66cc;">December/January</span> Cold-Time</span><br /><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;">Anagantios <span style="color:#cc66cc;">January/February</span> Stay-home time</span><br /><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;">Ogronios <span style="color:#cc33cc;">February/March</span> Ice Time</span><br /><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;">Cutios <span style="color:#cc66cc;">March/April</span> Windy Time</span><br /><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;">Giamonios <span style="color:#cc66cc;">April/May</span> Shoots-show</span><br /><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;">Simivisonios <span style="color:#cc66cc;">May/June</span> Bright time</span><br /><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;">Equos <span style="color:#cc66cc;">June/July</span> Horse-time</span><br /><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;">Elembiuos <span style="color:#cc66cc;">July/August</span> Claim-time</span><br /><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;">Edrinios <span style="color:#cc66cc;">August/September</span> Arbitration time</span><br /><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;">Cantlos <span style="color:#cc66cc;">September/October</span></span> Song time<br /><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"><span style="color:#cc66cc;">The celts never referred to the moon by name preferring to use names such as</span> <em><span style="color:#cc66cc;"><span style="color:#33cc00;">Her</span> </span>Brightness</em> <span style="color:#cc66cc;">and</span> <em>Queen of the Night</em>. <span style="color:#cc66cc;">This custom prevailed amongst fishermen in the Isle </span><span style="color:#cc66cc;">of Man until the ninteenth century.</span></span><span style="color:#cc66cc;"><br /></span><br /></p><p></span></strong><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjuFPS_-adtz6aq-ITzOi85r0vxJyQE0YIei64K5PiVdUJgxfA9R-wirjuUTmJvNqzdRuRa7hI0roWHIRyvT6VClrDIbo463Hn7_jMVUQG1BEL3DXGQIGCyNKCJ3CsNjlC2Ufhy/s1600-h/203.jpg"><strong><span style="color:#33cc00;"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5049274670571478290" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjuFPS_-adtz6aq-ITzOi85r0vxJyQE0YIei64K5PiVdUJgxfA9R-wirjuUTmJvNqzdRuRa7hI0roWHIRyvT6VClrDIbo463Hn7_jMVUQG1BEL3DXGQIGCyNKCJ3CsNjlC2Ufhy/s400/203.jpg" border="0" /></span></strong></a><strong><span style="color:#33cc00;"><br /><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">Bede gave the earliest version of the Anglo Saxon calendar in 725, these are the names they gave the months.</span><br /><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"><span style="color:#cc66cc;">January</span> - Later Yule</span><br /><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"><span style="color:#cc66cc;">February</span> - Sol Month</span><br /><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"><span style="color:#cc66cc;">March </span>- Hreth Month</span><br /><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"><span style="color:#cc66cc;">April</span> - Easter Month</span><br /><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"><span style="color:#cc66cc;">May</span> - Three Milkings</span><br /><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"><span style="color:#cc66cc;">June</span> - Earlier Litha</span><br /><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"><span style="color:#cc66cc;">July</span> - Later Litha</span><br /><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"><span style="color:#cc66cc;">August</span> - Weed Month</span><br /><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"><span style="color:#cc66cc;">September</span> - Holy-Month</span><br /><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"><span style="color:#cc66cc;">October</span> - Winter-Full</span><br /><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"><span style="color:#cc66cc;">November</span> - Blood Month</span><br /><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"><span style="color:#cc66cc;">Decembe</span><span style="color:#cc66cc;">r</span> - Earlier Yule</span><br /><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;">Sol means month of mud when cakes were offered to the gods. Hretha and Eastre are two spring goddesses that March and April are named after. Three milkings means that the cattle needed three milkings at that time of year. Litha, the summer festival was given two months as was Yule. Weed month is obvious, quick growing weeds, Holy month was when the offerings were made to the gods and the month of blood was when the animals were slaughtered for winter food. I find these old ancient names for the months really interesting, but nothing seems to me as sweetly lyrical and poetical as the Native American tribes' names of the months.</span><br /><br /></span></strong><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjI3c177cWlcnXJZnAjdKA0kZ9YhXpU1o1mGGs_nXIJrvMoUdx_I-WqfcpnpOny8kqVIcA9sM9OWBMWGV6gC9vl_Tb_oWD3XjdWQVhtrioDL0me_M9r6J9XIF7NHz6GgEdzJzeL/s1600-h/4.jpg"><strong><span style="color:#33cc00;"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5049274812305399074" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjI3c177cWlcnXJZnAjdKA0kZ9YhXpU1o1mGGs_nXIJrvMoUdx_I-WqfcpnpOny8kqVIcA9sM9OWBMWGV6gC9vl_Tb_oWD3XjdWQVhtrioDL0me_M9r6J9XIF7NHz6GgEdzJzeL/s400/4.jpg" border="0" /></span></strong></a><strong><span style="color:#33cc00;"><br /><br /><br /><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;color:#cc66cc;">Already we are nearly at Easter, this coming weekend. We are having a quiet Easter this year, the children are both working and can't get up from London, so it is just the two of us, so I am hoping for good weather and being able to enjoy some relaxing time in the garden. Even though there are just the two of us, I have promised to make my Easter Sunday dinner of fresh plump roast chicken and all the spring vegetable trimmings and a home made traditional English sherry trifle for pudding. Bit by bit I have been going out into my garden and tiding it and hoeing it and even planting one or two shrubs etc, but this week end I want to get everything ready to go right into action when my plant order arrives. Pots ready to fill with plants etc. I am over the moon I have so many planters and pots in my garden and every year comes the tricky issues of heaving large bales of compost from the local garden centre causing damage to life and limb, now I have found an old fashioned supplier who will actually deliver compost to my door where upon I just pay cash on delivery to the driver, and I mean cash on delivery not cheques or plastic. Wow! I was so excited to find this traditional way of doing business alive and well. I can also have my bark chippings delivered in a couple of weeks. The ease of it all.</span></span></strong><strong><span style="color:#33cc00;"><br /><br /><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;">Tomorrow I will decorate my Easter branch, thought I have looked everywhere and all I have been able to buy are 2 dozen chicks, so I will put them up and some fripperies and may be some cute gingham bows. My daughter discovered too late that there was a shop in London selling painted Easter ornaments exactly like christmas ones. Still maybe next year. I have also got lots of bunches of daffodils, and of course I will be dying eggs to put in a basket. I do love having small decorative touches to match the seasons.</span><br /><br /></span></strong><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjIczrWe-OvVj5kxUBmxyuGBx0lvghBzs9NIlfBpfYHmawdV4zR1-tOYD3egQAapBXcA1SYVnWqnVdatPbakCD2gU7AtBPin0YJFnsWe4UPBDLTcTF-xviFqWaxc8hJX0Qzzo_1/s1600-h/0486262650_13_Gabriella%252520Oldham_A%252520Happy%252520Easter.jpg"><strong><span style="color:#33cc00;"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5049274949744352562" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjIczrWe-OvVj5kxUBmxyuGBx0lvghBzs9NIlfBpfYHmawdV4zR1-tOYD3egQAapBXcA1SYVnWqnVdatPbakCD2gU7AtBPin0YJFnsWe4UPBDLTcTF-xviFqWaxc8hJX0Qzzo_1/s400/0486262650_13_Gabriella%252520Oldham_A%252520Happy%252520Easter.jpg" border="0" /></span></strong></a><strong><span style="color:#33cc00;"><br /><br /><br /></span><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;color:#cc66cc;">Treats for Easter after doing some gardening, if warm to be had in the garden, if cold inside. A lovely glass [or two or three] of some chilled white fragrant wine, something that embodies the smell of Spring. Of course, some chocolate of some description. A couple of magazines to oooooohh over and some long luxury time to really indulge in some reading. Time just sitting listening to the collared doves that arre nesting in the nearby trees, their cooing is just so calming, letting the warm sun hit my head and watching the silver birch dance and wave her branches. Alternativeiy, if the weather is horrendous, a couple of dvds I have been waiting to watch, warm room, incense and candles.</span></strong><br /><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"></span><br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi0emf-MaSijmxBuB1bKuQtWKHpUDppqXBOaMglJULHIG6Ac_7-GKnpCTJPafVXrtp5ptZhxRCluTIwVWgNzoQHflHJlDrT7HFFd5eEn6ZL_GQ75Oz9TOPoEA741dL4kPwHC-L_/s1600-h/glorious.gif"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5049274537427492098" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi0emf-MaSijmxBuB1bKuQtWKHpUDppqXBOaMglJULHIG6Ac_7-GKnpCTJPafVXrtp5ptZhxRCluTIwVWgNzoQHflHJlDrT7HFFd5eEn6ZL_GQ75Oz9TOPoEA741dL4kPwHC-L_/s200/glorious.gif" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"></span></p>Daisy Lupinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13673588364228846859noreply@blogger.com16tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28080603.post-50593134427410141042007-03-30T10:01:00.000+01:002007-03-30T19:10:13.981+01:00THE TWILIGHT ZONE?<p><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjBGysUwyuZAyk5zo8kE_C3qTYM6dL3ap3krV5QNbCFFvJTGY5kK7K42KTmszTnoMr2l-odel4ugT7WVdZuv_k4O8aaEcfALSDiZpccPFqU7RJ7BtUwkBWFed9pcTgpstDrtmWw/s1600-h/solwayfirth.jpg"><strong><span style="color:#000099;"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5047771393363172498" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjBGysUwyuZAyk5zo8kE_C3qTYM6dL3ap3krV5QNbCFFvJTGY5kK7K42KTmszTnoMr2l-odel4ugT7WVdZuv_k4O8aaEcfALSDiZpccPFqU7RJ7BtUwkBWFed9pcTgpstDrtmWw/s400/solwayfirth.jpg" border="0" /></span></strong></a><strong><span style="color:#000099;"><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">When I was over at Violette's Board the other day, I came across a thread entitled 'Take me to your leader', which was about the Phoenix lights and led onto some posts about <span style="BACKGROUND-COLOR: #ffff00">UFOs</span>. I am not a full anorak UFO geek, but I have to admit to having an interest in them, looking at the night sky I also cast around for various objects, but usually they are just satellites and high flying planes. I have interest in lots of weird and wonderful things like that, I don't think we can dismiss these strange things out of hand, if only one per cent of the sightings are true, we should not ridicule, we have no positive proof that UFOs don't exist, after all, its a huge universe out there.</span><br /><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;">What sparked my interest was an event that happened when I was about eleven years old, when one evening just at sunset my mother and I saw a strange shape high in the sky just hanging there not moving. It was what is now called the traditional cigar shaped object, we watched it for about twenty minutes, saw it then rotate 45 degrees, and 'pouff' it was gone. It was hanging high above the Solway Firth, and I do know that other people saw a strange object that night. I became a UFO enthusiast, reading the good, the bad and the ugly of books about them. Of course, the enthusiasm died down but I still read any article I stumble across about lights in the sky or other mysterious happenings. It really is amazing when seriously talking to people how many eventually confess to 'seeing something strange' in the sky.</span><br /><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;">This in turn, jogged my memory about a rather unusual photograph that was taken in 1964 in our area at Burgh by Sands, which strangely enough is near the Solway Firth. You may have heard of or seen this photograph before [ I reprint it at the top of this posting] as I do know that at the time it was a worldwide story. A man was taking a photograph of his daughter sitting picking flowers on the marshes. It was a coloured photograph, he saw nothing when he took the photograph, but when it was developed in the background behind his daughter stands a man in a sort of white spacesuit. The photograph [in black and white print] made it into the local paper and then probably being picked up by a stringer went national and then global. Until this day no one has been able to find anything wrong with the photograph, it is not a fake, yet there is no explanation for what is there on it.</span><br /><br /></span></strong><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiM0-zmAcjCX10jP-ggWbA_icLi4dxdHYeOi2eu-a20K-RWxHH985upGwirOtDtzcFjBWhi928TFl0h3M_aWFEvHWD6nHxg4vD3MAjFCpalof_lVPyKL8EFXpO3ZkgG5hSbIly9/s1600-h/1964.jpg"><strong><span style="color:#000099;"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5047776847971638482" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiM0-zmAcjCX10jP-ggWbA_icLi4dxdHYeOi2eu-a20K-RWxHH985upGwirOtDtzcFjBWhi928TFl0h3M_aWFEvHWD6nHxg4vD3MAjFCpalof_lVPyKL8EFXpO3ZkgG5hSbIly9/s400/1964.jpg" border="0" /></span></strong></a><strong><span style="color:#000099;"><br /><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;">It is said that after the photograph was published that the man who had taken it, Jim Templeton,had one of those mysterious visits from two 'men in black', who questioned about whether he saw anyone before he took the photograph, they then drove him to Brugh by Sands, and apparently, became annoyed when he couldn't help them as he hadn't seen anything at the time. It is said that they drove off and left him there to walk the five miles home. The following is allegedly a quote from Jim Templeton at the time that is oft quoted in magazines and websites.</span><br /><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#33ccff;"><em>They were very strange, asking peculiar questions about the weather and behaviour of the animals. Although they claimed to be from the government, they never used names and referred to one another just by numbers. I drove out with them to the marshes but they seemed to get upset when I insisted that I had not seen anybody as I took the photograph. They drove away, stranding me alone to walk five miles home.I never heard from them again.</em></span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">The photograph has never been disproved and from time to time it is mentioned somewhere and I begin to think about it again. It certainly is a fascinating incident. Well look at the photograph at the beginning of the post [I think it should enlarge if you click] and see what you make of it. Some people have said that it is just the back of a man in the white shirt with a white cap on his head, note the right arm and its odd angle.</span> </span></strong><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"><strong><span style="color:#000099;">If you want to know more about the whole story, this website gives the best account and includes more detail about the Australian connection and Blue Streak rocket, that was built in this area. It also tells of an interesting incident very near to this time when there was an aborted launch of Bluestreak.</span></strong></span></p><p><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjnLm0sf3tu1-b9eEX-7ojkSEQnOV5X09d4XDUf1HwxvuDkuaBwp7kx-fHme8qsD-QnEAY5QJONqqfyGPjyGtCJ3RYjoV9Tq-33ebLLeoxI2wXH-K0vVGzVG63INNcANzhVJi_E/s1600-h/vs10048.jpg"><strong><span style="color:#000099;"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5047775104214916290" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjnLm0sf3tu1-b9eEX-7ojkSEQnOV5X09d4XDUf1HwxvuDkuaBwp7kx-fHme8qsD-QnEAY5QJONqqfyGPjyGtCJ3RYjoV9Tq-33ebLLeoxI2wXH-K0vVGzVG63INNcANzhVJi_E/s400/vs10048.jpg" border="0" /></span></strong></a><strong><span style="color:#000099;"> </span></strong><a href="http://www.ufologie.net/htm/solwayfirth64.htm"><strong><span style="color:#000099;">http://www.ufologie.net/htm/solwayfirth64.htm</span></strong></a></span><strong><span style="color:#000099;"> </span></strong><strong><span style="color:#000099;"><br /><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"></span><br /><span style="color:#33ccff;"><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;">England beware, four of the Glitter Sisters who were at Thirsk, are contemplating a summer reunion [ when it is warm and we will not be freezing out butts off on a station platform], there may be fifth, but just listen people some where near you a</span><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"> town could be about to be chosen. You have been warned, man the barricades, the girls are coming to town. </span><br /></span><br /></span></strong><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEha8PHjLRQANaV_ZBiBFP-a1MYMaSUrkzO67xHTrdv2ZavNWmLrDUlz_zUDijvaRdoTZ8h6z5owD05O7IrVjBb00gOSOKAYCad4LJf-BWeHKg5wo0IHMZh8SwvwCKXj-0stT5Qn/s1600-h/vs9786.jpg"><strong><span style="color:#000099;"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5047772020428397730" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEha8PHjLRQANaV_ZBiBFP-a1MYMaSUrkzO67xHTrdv2ZavNWmLrDUlz_zUDijvaRdoTZ8h6z5owD05O7IrVjBb00gOSOKAYCad4LJf-BWeHKg5wo0IHMZh8SwvwCKXj-0stT5Qn/s400/vs9786.jpg" border="0" /></span></strong></a><strong><span style="color:#000099;"><br /><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;">Speaking of Glitter Sisters, Robyn has asked me to explain her mishap, seeing she had worrying email from one bright spark who thought she had tried to end it all! She received a package from France which had been opened and examined by Customs, unfortunately, or helpfully, however you want to look at it, the customs had overdone the tape a bit, and she was trying to wrestle with the package and a pair of scissors when ooops! [but she probably said something a bit lustier than that] blood was spurting everywhere. Luckily her younger daughter was with her and was able to drive her to hospital, where after a three hour wait holding up her arm she was given two stitches, the wound is small but very deep. On top of this she has now incubated a head cold. Send plenty of love and hugs her way.</span></span></strong><br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgEOpc4GSnc0x8dQWcRuMuF0ZyMnThn02p7zNiio5byjgKThn3YG-GOmYR0fRgakj6h_lGFmWJ-KSYQ0owhYcYGnLa7tnF9l_eJEXuE35O_jIPUIpwMTaEJi8gY2fLGRocqoG7j/s1600-h/glorious.gif"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5047768769138154610" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgEOpc4GSnc0x8dQWcRuMuF0ZyMnThn02p7zNiio5byjgKThn3YG-GOmYR0fRgakj6h_lGFmWJ-KSYQ0owhYcYGnLa7tnF9l_eJEXuE35O_jIPUIpwMTaEJi8gY2fLGRocqoG7j/s200/glorious.gif" border="0" /></a> </p>Daisy Lupinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13673588364228846859noreply@blogger.com10tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28080603.post-21500127774254778942007-03-27T08:53:00.000+01:002007-03-27T23:16:55.374+01:00A CERTAIN SOMETHING IN THE AIR<p><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi3hyphenhyphen8arLszIlz4CG2ZsrJA5OewmhkBKrjyDmOITq48HjJKW08zvPq-05L7zfcs0x1iCpUnrv64bNNqH2vTUfdkn9vm7hhr_7Y-14zpocI54zvIuEQ1x4NQg3wlW7D6u6skWx5-/s1600-h/79.jpg"><strong><span style="color:#33cc00;"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5046726934111500066" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi3hyphenhyphen8arLszIlz4CG2ZsrJA5OewmhkBKrjyDmOITq48HjJKW08zvPq-05L7zfcs0x1iCpUnrv64bNNqH2vTUfdkn9vm7hhr_7Y-14zpocI54zvIuEQ1x4NQg3wlW7D6u6skWx5-/s400/79.jpg" border="0" /></span></strong></a><strong><span style="color:#33cc00;"><br /><br />You wake up one morning and open the bedroom window, immediately you know something has changed and you take a deep breath. Yes! At last there it is that certain something in the air, the quality of Spring.<br /><br />That is what happened on Saturday morning. What exactly is this quality? It's hard to describe, a certain softness and warming of the air currents, even though it is still early morning, a tint of colour in the sky, a sky that no longer looks like a Winter Steel Grey, a slight difference in the shades of green of the plants and tree buds, a sharper more acid green. Birds that try just that little bit more joyously when singing the dawn chorus and in the distance the baaing of ewes waiting to lamb.<br /><br />The sun rose higher in the bright blue sky, all my Saturday plans went flying away, as I ran around the cottage gathering up plants in pots, that had been patiently waiting such a day to be planted, ever since they arrived from the nursery, and even the moon was right for planting. The bliss, the utter complete bliss, to be in my garden again, nothing matches the first proper gardening stint of each Spring. I spotted a solitary ladybird sitting on one of my perennials and welcomed her back to my garden, encouraging to enjoy munching the aphids later in the year and a single bee was doing a survey on my honeysuckle, before reporting back to the hive. </span></strong></p><p><strong><span style="color:#33cc00;">All my climbers and tubers planted and I celebrated by sitting down at the garden table with a welcome cup of coffee, my eyes darting backwards and forwards looking for what is showing green and working out what plants to add this year, scribbling some notes on a piece of paper before going inside to order them. To sit in the garden smelling the earth and the plants feeling the warmth of a late March sun on my head, how much better could it get?, it just couldn't, <em>it is</em> perfection<br /><br /></p></span></strong><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi2PVgfL0ybN9we5at_0xSo2amCwIBcX4wq2k-jDDAJ9ytSORMqkb0RZKohW9h0AeOal1x3XtlzRgpZ6w1EjGzNIHL1mJ7ffXiGWBHfxFFIKcDXIQ79Y6VD3f9VkfJnlvDRGpr1/s1600-h/47.jpg"><strong><span style="color:#33cc00;"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5046726796672546578" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi2PVgfL0ybN9we5at_0xSo2amCwIBcX4wq2k-jDDAJ9ytSORMqkb0RZKohW9h0AeOal1x3XtlzRgpZ6w1EjGzNIHL1mJ7ffXiGWBHfxFFIKcDXIQ79Y6VD3f9VkfJnlvDRGpr1/s400/47.jpg" border="0" /></span></strong></a><strong><span style="color:#33cc00;"><br /><br /><span style="color:#ff99ff;">I went on my country bus ride into the town today, basically to finish off the shopping I failed to do last time, the school's finish for their spring breaks on Friday, so I want to steer clear of town when the kids are all milling round. The only exception I will make is to the visit the Continental Market that is due to hit town on Easter weekend, to replenish my stocks of Provencial soap. It was one of my lucky days in poundland, lot of wonderful tea light holders, glass hanging lights for the garden in summer, its amazing to be spending just £1 on these when the 'quality' magazines advertise them at ridiculous prices, also beautiful japanese paper lanterns that light up by battery and a small bulb and wonderful multi coloured bamboo spirals to twirl in the wind in the garden. I can just visualise it on a warm summer's evening, when it happens I will take photos. Also managed to get some strips of lovely assorted embellishments for altered art. Wow, Poundland yay!</span><br /><br /></span></strong><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjuLyInHj4R9pbYGvbjOarNSn-1jhMw-Qz1VjI2SF2OoUoOQjkKjZIzTedZ-zvxpqrlR89DNz31ZtstA0iJ2C0QDg8ntX4qliFqLxlEmlT2JOEwrVP2T83GqRddf0eYFVSsj3-I/s1600-h/vp8755.jpg"><strong><span style="color:#33cc00;"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5046720526020294402" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjuLyInHj4R9pbYGvbjOarNSn-1jhMw-Qz1VjI2SF2OoUoOQjkKjZIzTedZ-zvxpqrlR89DNz31ZtstA0iJ2C0QDg8ntX4qliFqLxlEmlT2JOEwrVP2T83GqRddf0eYFVSsj3-I/s400/vp8755.jpg" border="0" /></span></strong></a><strong><span style="color:#33cc00;">.<br /><br /><br />One of items I bought in Poundland was a box of yellow Easter Chickens. We don't really bother decorating for Easter over here, apart from kids displaying their chocolate eggs. I've decided to bring back my treasure branch I decorated at Christmas, only this time I will make an Easter Branch out of it, fluffy little yellow chicks can sit in it and maybe some Daisy Lupin Fripperies, I'll have to find out if I can source some tiny feathered birds, if any one knows where, [in England] please let me know. If it works out I'll take photos of it, also, naturally, I will fill the rooms with daffodils.<br /><br /><span style="color:#ff99ff;">At the very top left of my sidebar there is now a link to Daisy Lupin Designs, which is to showcase and sell the items I am making, just a few things up at present but more to follow during the coming weeks.<br /></span><br /></span></strong><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhp16LMWdVyAYcNqGFcEct1FHW083Kc-ubyId0WYQ1EXDBKGCRYbEXkzToPduzKHbP6fvqUBkiAi-iqAdF8fTbe1boYWnqvncPLIYxPsV-N-cl3oBdORTBNd2k6uFEVLQeqW7Hm/s1600-h/vs10072.jpg"><strong><span style="color:#33cc00;"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5046727672845874994" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhp16LMWdVyAYcNqGFcEct1FHW083Kc-ubyId0WYQ1EXDBKGCRYbEXkzToPduzKHbP6fvqUBkiAi-iqAdF8fTbe1boYWnqvncPLIYxPsV-N-cl3oBdORTBNd2k6uFEVLQeqW7Hm/s400/vs10072.jpg" border="0" /></span></strong></a><strong><span style="color:#33cc00;"><br /><br />One last item before I go, I have just had an email from <span style="color:#ff99ff;">ROBYN'S</span> [Wednesday's Child] daughter, to say she has had a mishap, she was opening a parcel with scissors, they slipped and went into her arm. Poor Robyn had to go to hospital and have stitches put in her arm, so will probably not be able to type for a while. I sent an email to as many of her contacts as I could, but if I missed you, I am sorry, but now you have read it here. She will return as soon as her arm permits and I am sure you will keep her in your thoughts and wish her well and a speedy recovery. So <span style="color:#ff99ff;">GET WELL SOON ROBYN</span> and back to your blog.<br /></span></strong><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhFL_yOad2K9hUut6m6pXi86pH2L7babYMI1L_H-Q1-BGpCOlor7nyOEylD9YWeDMmPntEIfi4q1RHNE6lAdR2PeMY0E7S0GfUL2JHoBL1c3LeoHe8Dp-7qKLsHdSkZ8dFRwBb3/s1600-h/glorious.gif"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5046718584695076594" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhFL_yOad2K9hUut6m6pXi86pH2L7babYMI1L_H-Q1-BGpCOlor7nyOEylD9YWeDMmPntEIfi4q1RHNE6lAdR2PeMY0E7S0GfUL2JHoBL1c3LeoHe8Dp-7qKLsHdSkZ8dFRwBb3/s200/glorious.gif" border="0" /></a>Daisy Lupinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13673588364228846859noreply@blogger.com15