Musings

Thinking things through

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Springtime

The weather is so beautiful today and Spring is so exquisite that I just have to repeat a quote from Thomas Traherne  the 17th century Poet & Mystic

“Heaven! is not that an Endless Sphere
Where all thy Treasures and thy Joys appear?
If that be Heaven it is Evrywhere
…
Heaven surely is a State and not a Place
To be in Heaven’s to be full of Grace
Heaven is wherever we see God’s face.”

I recently took a walk in Painswick to see the snowdrops at the Rococo Gardens.  By the lake children were playing and birds were singing.  The sky was blue and the soft breeze blowing through the trees was chilly but welcome.  The snowdrops were beautiful and the company was great.  It is one of those special places, a sacred space filled with peace and natural beauty, which justify Traherne’s words.
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Breeze

This post is inspired by haiku Heights prompt word “Breeze”.

On of my favourite places is London.  There is nothing so inspiring as the city skyline viewed from the South Bank of the Thames on a summer’s evening.  Imagine feeling a gentle breeze drifting over the river at sunset and listening to the birds singing in nearby trees ~ magical!  Do click on my link to hear the fabulous Glenn Miller Band playing one of my favourite songs ~ the inspiration for this haiku ~ with a nod to one of my favourite poets too ~Thomas Hardy.

Nightingales

Nightingale Nightingale

As gentle breezes blow

Nightingales in bushes sing

Sublime serenade

P1080455 Tower bridge 1

 One of my favourite times of year in the Vale of Evesham and generally in the Cotswold, is Spring, when the blossom covers the fruit trees and the ornamental cherry is out.

 Boughs bend to the breeze

Covering the earth in a

Blanket of blossom

Ornamental cherry
 

Watching butterflies

Their beauty borne on the breeze

Children barely breathe

Butterfly in captivity
 

There are times when a gentle breeze can have a powerful effect, as can a still small voice.

Gazing on Taize

Sunflowers bow to the breeze

And my spirit soars

I will never forget the time I went to Taize.  In the 1940s Roger Schutz was appalled by the violence and suffering he saw across Europe.  Throughout the war years, he sheltered political refugees, especially Jews, whom he helped cross the border into Switzerland from the occupied region of France.  He began to develop the idea of a community based on mutual understanding and respect for all.  He found a suitable site at Taize near Cluny in the Burgundy region of France and on Palm Sunday of 1948, seven men took monastic vows.  They dedicated their lives to working and praying for ‘outsiders’ of all kinds; especially those living in extremes of poverty, hunger, or disease.  Taize is now famous for its gentle and powerful worship built on meditation through repetitive chants, a model of worship which has spread around the world.  Brother Roger’s work continues; to bring reconciliation, unity and peace to all the peoples of the world. www.taize.fr

There is a beautiful icon of Mary in the Church of Reconciliation in Taize.  I would recommend anyone who travels to France to make a detour so that they can spend some time there and see this Icon.
Icon of Madonna and child from the chapel at Taize Icon of Madonna and child from the chapel at Taize
When I went to Taize one summer I had an amazing experience.   I stood alone in a field full of sunflowers, at the foot of the hill looking up towards the church, as a gentle breeze blew.  The wind caused the flowers to bend and the sound they made was so strange.   It reminded me strongly of the beautiful words of one of my favourite hymns:
 Be still for the presence of the Lord
Be still for the presence of the Lord  The holy one is here
Come bow before him now  With reverence and fear
In him no sin is found  We stand on holy ground
Be still for the presence of the Lord  The holy one is here
Be still for the power of the Lord  Is moving in this place
He comes to cleanse and heal  To minister his grace
No work too hard for him  In faith receive from him
Be still for the power of the Lord  Is moving in this place
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Reckitt’s Blue and cardinal Red ~ Pride

Reckitt’s Blue and cardinal Red

My post today is inspired by Haiku Heights prompt word ‘Pride’.  It took me back to my childhood in the 1940s when women were expected to go back to being proud housewives so that the men returning from the war could do the ‘real’ jobs, which women had done perfectly well while they were away fighting.  The housewives did this for a while, taking pride in spotlessly clean washing hanging on the line, and beautifully kept homes,  which took all day to clean.

 Lines of white sheets hung

over cobbled stone streets, when

Monday was washday

Reckitt's Blue

Reckitt’s Blue

Do you remember Reckitt’s Blue?

I do as I grew up in the North of England in the 1940s when every woman worth her salt would boil wash her sheets to within an inch of their lives every Monday morning.  There were no washing machines, and no kitchen in our houses.  We had a tiny scullery with a sink and a gas cooker, a couple of cupboards and a copper for doing the washing.  The sheets, always white in those days, would be boiled in a ‘copper’ and agitated with a ‘dolly’ before being rinsed in Reckitt’s Blue to make them gleam.  They then had to be wrung out in a hand operated mangle or wringer as there were no spinners then.  The earlier you got your washing out, and the whiter it was, the better housewife you were considered to be.  It really was a source of pride, and the housewives were terribly competitive!  Women used to get up really early to start the washing as it took ages to boil the water.  Washing could take all day so lunch was a quick scratch affair.  In our house it was usually Sunday’s left overs and chips.  These were a real treat and to this day I can’t hear a tune played by Mantovani without thinking of chips as he was always on the wireless on Monday lunchtimes.

Living in a ‘back to back’ terraced house, we didn’t have a garden, just a yard with a coal house and lavatory in it.  So washing was hung out to dry on lines stretched across the cobbled front street with poles to hold it up.  I remember clearly as a child that whenever a doctor’s car, or an ambulance, wanted to visit a neighbour, all the women had to get their washing in and take down the lines so the car could pass!  No-one else in our area had a car so the only time we saw one was when a doctor came to the street.  For years I thought only doctors had cars and telephones.

The history of Reckitt’s Blue is fascinating and if you want to read all about it click on this link.

Cardinal Red Polish was another thing I remember my mum using.  She would paint it on the tiles on our front doorstep and polish it thoroughly ‘til it shone.  It had to be really well polished and dry otherwise it would be walked into the house if you stepped on it.

At the front door she

Knelt and shone to perfection

Her gleaming stone step.

Cardinal Red Polish

Cardinal Red Polish

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Rescue 2 ~ Haiku

Inspired by Haiku Heights ~ Rescue 2

We recently rescued a moth that had fallen in the sink.  Gently picking it up so as not to damage those delicate wings. We placed it on the garden table to dry out.  Within seconds a robin swooped and ate it!  Fleeting freedom, poor thing.

Trapped in the water

Translucent winged moth, rescued

Fleeting freedom tastes

In Somerset the beaches are sandy but there is always the hidden danger of quicksand.  Lifeboats are of no help when people or animals are stuck in the quicksand so the coastguard service has two Hovercraft.  They are often called out to rescue children, adults, animals, jetskis, fishing boats ~ and even each other!  Read my previous post for more on this!!

Sinking in quicksand

Real danger of drowning as

High tide rushes in

My fear of swimming stems I believe from the time I fell in the North sea.  I was 10 years old walking along the cliffs when I just slipped in the mud, fell down the cliff and straight into the sea.  I still remember the feeling of sinking deeper and deeper into the dark water where I got tangled up in the weeds.  My brave uncle saved me, but I have never liked being out of my depth since then!

Ropes and weeds held me

In the depths and the darkness

Before rescue came

I watched Life of Pi recently and thoroughly enjoyed it in 3D.  With a bit of poetic licence I added in icebergs!

Iceberg splintered wood

Cast adrift from the wreckage

Praying for rescue

There is carnage on our roads in the Cotswolds; badgers, foxes, deer, pheasants, hedgehogs ~ and tragically, sometimes children or cyclists.  We have wonderful rescue services to deal with the aftermath.

Picked up by police

On the side of the road

Orphaned by traffic

 

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Third Star on Blog of the Year 2012

Blog of the Year Award 3 star jpeg

I am thrilled to have been nominated again for this award by  “On Dragonfly Wings with Buttercup Tea” And here are the rules:

1 Select the blog(s) you think deserve the ‘Blog of the Year 2012’ Award.

2 Write a blog post and tell us about the blog(s) you have chosen – there’s no minimum or maximum number of blogs required – and ‘present’ them with their award.

3 Please include a link back to this page ‘Blog of the Year 2012’ Award – http://thethoughtpalette.co.uk/our-awards/blog-of-the-year-2012-award/and include these ‘rules’ in your post (please don’t alter the rules or the badges!)

4 Let the blog(s) you have chosen know that you have given them this award and share the ‘rules’ with them

5 You can now also join the award’s Facebook group – click ‘like’ on this page‘Blog of the Year 2012’ Award Facebook group and then you can share your blog with an even wider audience if you choose to

6 As a winner of the award – please add a link back to the blog that presented you with the award – and then proudly display the award on your blog and sidebar … and start collecting stars…

Yes – that’s right – there are stars to collect!

Unlike other awards which you can only add to your blog once – this award is different!

When you begin you will receive the ‘1 star’ award – and every time you are given the award by another blog – you can add another star!

There are a total of 6 stars to collect.

Which means that you can check out your favorite blogs – and even if they have already been given the award by someone else – you can still bestow it on them again and help them to reach the maximum 6 stars!

6-stars-image

There are so many wonderful blogs out there which I love reading.  Some I dip in and out of and some I would not miss.  From my desk I can travel to India, USA, Canada, Australia and all the places in between.  I can see fabulous photos and read wise words.  I can enjoy newsletters, magazines, unpublished stories and a wealth of poetry.  I can be stunned by haiku and warmed by appreciative comments.  I can even say that I have made friendships as some bloggers give and receive advice, tips and encouragement freely.  I am constantly amazed by the talents, wisdom and sincerity that exists and I feel privileged to share in it through blogging.  I have a long list of blogs that I would not miss and I have nominated some of them for awards before.  So I have decided to give another star to those I previously nominated for the ‘Blog of the Year 2012:

If you do not accept Awards I understand, just know you are appreciated by https://heavenhappens.wordpress.com

professionsforpeace

purpleinportland

poetrymyfeelings

readinpleasure

wabisabi

http://wordcoaster.wordpress.com

annahergert.wordpress.com

miracleshappen13.blogspot.co.uk

unfetteredbs

susanspoetry

foralovelything

On this post you will find the thumbnails of the ‘Star Awards’.  ‘Blog of the Year 2012’ Award – http://thethoughtpalette.co.uk/our-awards/blog-of-the-year-2012-award/

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No School Day

angel of the north in snow

It snowed overnight and the roads are a fright,

So the schools are all closed ~ on a Friday!

Mums and dads can’t drive, their cars slip and slide

So its family fun on a school day.

Dogs in bright jackets are leaping for joy

Taken out for a walk, on a school day.

Babies and toddlers peep out of their prams

They’re going to the park, on a school day.

Tiny tots muffled in mittens and hats,

Squeal in delight, on a school day.

Giggling girls, hugging their friends,

Slide down the hill, on a school day.

Teen terrors in hoodies become little boys

Throwing snowballs at girls, on a school day.

Steep slopes draw the daring on sledges and boards,

They hurtle downhill, on a school day.

I sit at the window and, like falling snow,

My thoughts pile up into drifts.

My smiles turn to tears at the sights and sounds

Of my school days, as the frozen scene shifts.

Of ink wells and blotters, of wafers and milk,

Of chalk boards and outside loos;

Of walking to school by the RiverTyne,

Of castles, and coalmines and ships.

And then there are people, who wave as they pass,

Loved aunties and cousins and friends

A sister and brother no longer in touch

A mother and father I mourned.

There are icicles hanging near a frozen stream,

The snow covered branches are bending

The field is a snow frosted wonderland

Its beauty my broken heart mending.

Dawning of a new frosty day
Frozen branches in Benhall Woods
Snow Art
My snow covered garden
View from my front window
Not many cars parked today
Sledgers in Benhall
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The Hummingbirds are Becoming Tame!

This has got to be the most beautiful and uplifting post i have seen for a while x I have never seen a hummingbird so they are a delight for me to see and share.

Unknown's avatar

This has got to be the most beautiful and uplifting post i have seen for a while x I have never seen a hummingbird so they are a delight for me to see and share.

View original post

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Small Stones 6 ~ New Journals

Full Journal 2012

Full Journal 2012

Hard back now broken

Skin leathered, wrinkled and worn

Soul spilled on the page

Having tidied away the decorations, cleaned the house and washed the dog and her bedding this weekend,  it is now time to sort out my boxes of journals.  The one above is a much used notebook from 2012.  The yellow leather binding is worn, the ribbon is frayed and the pages are falling out.  In fact it looks a bit like I feel;  but inside it, the essence of me is distilled.

On a sea of ink

I sail to oblivion

In a paper boat

Do you remember the feeling you used to get every September when school started?  Everything was new ~ uniform, pens, pencils, rulers, rubbers, sharpeners, geometry equipment, art materials and virginal exercise books covered in pretty paper.  Whatever had happened the previous term, the new school year was filled with hope for a fresh start, a clean sheet, a  copybook with no blots!

Well I got that feeling when I opened my Christmas presents and found a beautiful new journal.  It is from the Wedgewood Archive Collection and the design is called Yellow Butterfly.  Of course one journal is never enough for the addicted writer so  this year I have bought 2 other journals in the sales!  I am torn as to which one to start writing in first, they are all so beautiful.

Three new journals for 2013

Three new journals for 2013

On pristine pages

Bound with butterflies and birds

I journal my journey

Trawling the depths of

meandering memories

In rivers of words

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Haiku Heights ~ Script

The prompt for Haiku Heights this week is the word ‘script’.  I knew immediately what I wanted to write about but it is a painful memory.  When my father was very ill with cancer I would sit by his bed for hours on end whenever I was not at work.  He was a self taught man who left school at the age of 13 to work in the shipyards in the North of England where he lived.  He spent his whole life working with steel, eventually owning his own business.  He was in great demand as a consultant on huge projects from bridges to buildings like Canary Wharf in London and Terminal 4 at Heathrow.  He was also recognised as a bit of an expert on safety in Nuclear Power Stations which he used to inspect.  I absolutely adored him and shared his passion for bridges, buildings and anything of beauty.

Now my father kept a diary all his life and his last sentence on every entry was a prayer of thanks for his day. He always used a propelling pencil and wrote with a beautiful script.  As he got weaker his diary became really important to him.  However hard it was to write he would still insist on filling in the days news.  He recorded every visit by doctors, nurses, priests and friends.  The day before he died he was quite distressed that he could not hold his pencil and he insisted that I should write what he dictated, which I did.  When he fell asleep with the exhaustion of it I took a peek at his diary and I was totally shocked by what i found.  For the worst months of his illness he had ended every entry with a prayer to St Jude ~ patron Saint of Lost causes!  This was a bit upsetting.  But the really upsetting thing was that for the last two weeks his entries were in mirror writing.  Every word and line was written backwards.  It was still legible although the writing was getting rather spidery.

I found this deeply moving as it seemed to me that his life was going into reverse.  After he died I mentioned the mirror writing to the doctor and he said it sometimes happens as a result of neurological disturbance.  I suppose this would make sense as he was so ill and on strong pain relief.  But I still found it very unsettling.

I have heard since that some people like Leonardo Da Vinci used to do mirror writing.  It is a strange phenomenon still not fully understood.

As in a mirror

His writing flowed in reverse

His Life rewinding

Man of steel, my Angel of the North

Man of steel, my Angel of the North

Small Stones 2 ~ Pigeon patrol

pigeon1Plump pigeons patrol

Seeking seeds dropped by sparrows

Beneath bare pear tree

 I am starting 2013 by clearing space for beauty and joining the Mindful Writing Challenge entitled Small Stones.  A small stone is a short piece of writing (prose or poetry) that precisely captures a fully-engaged (mindful) moment. The process of finding small stones is as important as the finished product – searching for them will encourage you to keep your eyes (and ears, nose, mouth, fingers, feelings and mind) open.

Why don’t you go out and buy yourself a gorgeous notebook, start writing your small stones, and you’ll be in the river too.

Mindful Writing Challenge

ilovesmallstones

ilovesmallstones

Small Stones 1 ~ Robin

Robin

I am starting 2013 by clearing space for beauty and joining the Mindful Writing Challenge entitled Small Stones.  A small stone is a short piece of writing (prose or poetry) that precisely captures a fully-engaged (mindful) moment. The process of finding small stones is as important as the finished product – searching for them will encourage you to keep your eyes (and ears, nose, mouth, fingers, feelings and mind) open.

Why don’t you go out and buy yourself a gorgeous notebook, start writing your small stones, and you’ll be in the river too.

Mindful Writing Challenge

ilovesmallstones

Fledged in Fuschia

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2012 in review

The WordPress.com stats helper monkeys prepared a 2012 annual report for my blog.  I only started it in March so i am very pleased that it has been read by so many people.  I treasure every comment and appreciate every view so please carry on reading in 2013.  Happy New year to you all x

Here’s an excerpt:

600 people reached the top of Mt. Everest in 2012. This blog got about 4,100 views in 2012. If every person who reached the top of Mt. Everest viewed this blog, it would have taken 7 years to get that many views.

Click here to see the complete report.

 

 

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Snow

sunset over snowy mountain in Chile

The prompt for this week at haiku heights is the word ‘snow’.  This set me off thinking of the many places I have been where there is always snow on the mountain tops, the “Everlasting Snows”.  I think of the North West Explorer trip I did many years ago visiting Seattle, Vancouver and the wonderful national parks in USA and Canada.  I will never forget the breathtaking views we saw as we drove along the route through the glaciers to Banff and beyond.

I also remember the trip to the top of the Caucasus mountains at Krasnapolyana in Russia which I have written about before.  This beautiful place will be the setting for many of the events of the 2014 Sochi Winter Olympics.

I remember the very first time I went to Russia.  I arrived in Moscow in the evening having left the UK on a crisp Autumn morning.  The first thing I did in Moscow was go for a walk to Red Square.  As I turned into the square it started to snow gently and there I was at last, totally captivated by the sight of the magnificent multi coloured onion domes on St Basil’s cathedral.  Red Square has been the scene of some dreadful ~ and some impressive events ~ over the course of its history, but I defy anyone to see it without being instantly awed by the sheer magnificence of the whole square and its buildings, especially in the snow!

St Basil's in Red Square in the snow

St Basil’s in Red Square in the snow

Soft flakes fall gently

On sumptuous St Basil’s

White snow on Red Square

Another place with “Everlasting Snows” is the Pyrenees.  These mountains are steeped in history.  For century after century pedlars and merchants, crusaders and warriors, troubadours, shepherds and pilgrims have trekked across these mountains.   The village of Gavarnie was known as “the last village in France” in the Middle Ages on the old pilgrim route to the tomb of St. James at Santiago de Compostela.  It is a great centre for winter sports as well as summer walking now.  I have often travelled to Lourdes with groups or with friends and I have always taken a trip up the mountains to Gavarnie.  I have written about it in a previous post.  The route to Gavarnie from Lourdes takes in the Lavedan Valley, Argeles Gazost, St. Savin de Lavedan, the Chateau of Miremont, the Valley of Luz, Pic du Midi and Luz.   These are all fascinating places in their own right and St Savin is a must see village and church which seems unchanged by time.  The Cirque de Gavarnie is the most famous place in the Pyrenees, with 1,400 metres (4,400 feet) and is home to the highest waterfall in Europe.  Near Gavarnie there is an amazing statue of Our Lady of the Snows.  We often stopped to say mass there with the VIPs in our group, using a spare wheelchair as an altar!  (In Lourdes the sick, disabled or terminally ill are the VIPs.)

Our Lady of the Snows

Our Lady of the Snows

Mass in Gavarnie

A wheelchair for an altar

Snow capped sacristy

Souce of River gave at Gavarnie

Source of River gave at Gavarnie

River Gave is born

In the Everlasting Snows

Of Haute Pyrenees

Tour guides will tell you that the statue was erected by airmen after the Second World War in gratitude for making their escape across the mountains from occupied France into Northern Spain.  However, this statue was visited and blessed by Pope Pius 12th when he came to Lourdes in 1935, so I guess it might have been erected by grateful resistance fighters in earlier times.   There are many mountain passes in the Pyrenees, known as Le Chemin de la Liberte, which were secret escape routes during WW11 and one of them does pass the spot where Our lady of the Snows statue stands.  This route was taken by hundreds of Frenchmen and Jews fleeing from the Germans as well as RAF and American airmen who had either crash landed or parachuted to safety after being shot down over occupied Europe.  There was a chain of local people who hid, fed and clothed these men, at great personal risk, until the time was right for them to make their escape under cover of darkness over the mountains.  Official statistics tell us that between the years 1940 and 1944, there were 33,000 successful escapes by Frenchmen along the entire length of the Pyrenean chain.  It seems strange that we can now picnic there in the summer sun admiring the snow-capped mountains!

English: Cirque de Gavarnie gripped by frozen ...

English: Cirque de Gavarnie gripped by frozen snow in the Pyrenees (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

Trudging through spring snows

Escaping occupation

‘Cross the Pyrenees

Pyrenees by the River Gave

Pyrenees by the River Gave

Trek through history

On high Pyrenees, scene of

trade and tragedy

Last but not least, I think of Stratton Mountain in Vermont near where my daughter lives and her husband works.  We won’t be seeing him this Christmas as he will be on the mountain as usual preparing the next generation of winter Olympians.  So I dedicate this series of haiku to him as he lives for the snow!  Jointly they run the superb ski camps known as US Elite Camps.

Stratton Mountain

Stratton Mountain

Bobsleigh, Downhill, Pipe,

Ski-jump, Slalom, Speed and Luge,

Snow capped Olympics.

slalom

Scary snow

Scary snow

 

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Blog of the Year Award 2012

Blog of the Year Award 1 star jpeg

I am thrilled to have been nominated for this award by positiveboomer.net And here are the rules:

1 Select the blog(s) you think deserve the ‘Blog of the Year 2012’ Award.

2 Write a blog post and tell us about the blog(s) you have chosen – there’s no minimum or maximum number of blogs required – and ‘present’ them with their award.

3 Please include a link back to this page ‘Blog of the Year 2012’ Award – http://thethoughtpalette.co.uk/our-awards/blog-of-the-year-2012-award/and include these ‘rules’ in your post (please don’t alter the rules or the badges!)

4 Let the blog(s) you have chosen know that you have given them this award and share the ‘rules’ with them

5 You can now also join the award’s Facebook group – click ‘like’ on this page‘Blog of the Year 2012’ Award Facebook group and then you can share your blog with an even wider audience if you choose to

6 As a winner of the award – please add a link back to the blog that presented you with the award – and then proudly display the award on your blog and sidebar … and start collecting stars…

Yes – that’s right – there are stars to collect!

Unlike other awards which you can only add to your blog once – this award is different!

When you begin you will receive the ‘1 star’ award – and every time you are given the award by another blog – you can add another star!

There are a total of 6 stars to collect.

Which means that you can check out your favorite blogs – and even if they have already been given the award by someone else – you can still bestow it on them again and help them to reach the maximum 6 stars!

6-stars-image

There are so many wonderful blogs out there which I love reading.  Some I dip in and out of and some I would not miss.  From my desk I can travel to India, USA, Canada, Australia and all the places in between.  I can see fabulous photos and read wise words.  I can enjoy newsletters, magazines, unpublished stories and a wealth of poetry.  I can be stunned by haiku and warmed by appreciative comments.  I can even say that I have made friendships as some bloggers give and receive advice, tips and encouragement freely.  I am constantly amazed by the talents, wisdom and sincerity that exists and I feel privileged to share in it through blogging.  I have a long list of blogs that I would not miss and I have nominated some of them for awards before.  So I am deliberately choosing some that I have only recently discovered and enjoyed as well as some of my favourites and I hope you will seek them out too.

Here are the nominees  I have chosen for the ‘Blog of the Year 2012:

If you do not accept Awards I understand, just know you are appreciated by https://heavenhappens.wordpress.com

professionsforpeace

purpleinportland

poetrymyfeelings

readinpleasure

wabisabi

http://wordcoaster.wordpress.com

annahergert.wordpress.com

miracleshappen13.blogspot.co.uk

unfetteredbs

susanspoetry

foralovelything

On this post you will find the thumbnails of the ‘Star Awards’.  ‘Blog of the Year 2012’ Award – http://thethoughtpalette.co.uk/our-awards/blog-of-the-year-2012-award/

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Wishes and a quilt for Stanley

I have updated my post about the quilt as it fits in perfectly with the Haiku Heights theme for this week which is ‘Wish’  I have added a few extra haiku!
Stanley Jack

Stanley Jack

A shooting star streaked

‘Cross a cloudless sky, my wish

Was granted that night

 shooting star xmas

Wishes are woven

Round the world, on a web of

Wisdom and wonder

frosty spiders web

 I wanted something special and personal for my new grandchild, baby Stanley. It should be something useful that he could keep. I decided that a quilt was a good idea. Quilts are great in the pram, on the cot, as a changing mat, or on the floor as a play mat. In my former life as a teacher I loved the book “A Quilt for Baby” by Kim Lewis ~

“There is a farm far away from the town, in a valley in the hills where
a river runs. . . . This is home, my little one. This is where we live.”

quilt for baby kim lewis
In the book the new mother makes a quilt for her baby appliqued with farmyard images ~ sheepdog, sheep, grass, stream and trees. Jenny and Simon have decorated their nursery with beautiful star wallpaper in ivory and grey so that was my starting point. I wanted a shooting star to feature and wanted a material that would be safe, warm and lovely to the touch. So I bought some ivory Calico and padding. My middle daughter, Anna who lives in Barcelona, found coloured silk ~ a silvery blue/grey ~ perfect for the large stars. I had saved a piece of ivory silk from Jenny’s wedding dress for just this sort of occasion ~ that would be perfect for small stars.
Now I am no great seamstress but I have a friend who is! She has a sewing machine which does everything, including star shaped stitches, and she offered to help me. So I designed the quilt and cut out the material arranging the silk stars on the calico.
My friend then used her magic to put it all together with ivory silk thread.
The result is a lovely unique quilt for my precious grandchild. Of course I have to write some haiku about it!

Weaving good wishes,

In blue silk and ivory,

Starburst for Stanley

shooting star xmas

Shooting stars of silk,

On creamy soft calico,

Each stitch holds a wish

shooting star xmas

In spun golden threads,

I stitch my wishes for him,

Health and happiness

shooting star xmas

My love is wrapped up,

In soft silk and calico,

A wish in each stitch

A quilt for Stanley

A quilt for Stanley

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Pain

I am moved and inspired by haiku heights word prompt this week, which is ‘Pain’.

On Saturday  my daughter went through the pain of childbirth and produced a wonderful son, Stanley Jack.  That pain was worth going through.

A cold winter’s day

An arrow of agony

A baby is born

On Sunday my husband bent down to pick up a basket of logs for the stove and his back gave way.  That pain was definitely not worth going through!  By Thursday my husband’s pain was so bad he was kept in hospital where he still is.  Although he is very brave it must be a pain to have so many pills, injections, procedures and tests when he is already on dialysis 3 times a week and chemotherapy alternate days for an existing condition!  He has a  very high pain threshold but this back has beaten even him.

Advancing in age

Every movement is torture

Unbearable pain

On Monday I saw a homeless person sitting in a doorway in the bitter cold and wet.  I feel for him in his physical discomfort but also in the pain of alienation from the community and rejection by society that he must feel.

Hopeless and homeless

Shivering in the shadows

Harbouring his hurts

Looking round the town decorated for Christmas, I am struck by the contrast between the glitzy shop windows, the festive decorations, the singing of the choirs in the streets ~ and the horror of homeless young people, male and female, huddled in doorways.

Two thousand years on

Young mums still search for shelter

Crisis at Christmas

On Tuesday I was reminded of a child I once took to Lourdes.  She was 10 years old and gravely ill.  She needed a heart and lung transplant, which she eventually received.  sadly she died before the year was out and her funeral took place on Christmas Eve.  I will never forget her bravery.  She wrote her own funeral mass sheet and drew pictures of rabbits on it.  She chose the music from Watership Down to be played at the service.

When treatment has failed

And the torment is over

Bright eyes close in pain.

Today sitting at home alone I am reflecting on the pain of having family scattered all over the world.  But how lucky I am to have email, facebook, mobile phone and text messaging.  My family are instantly updated on my husband’s condition and they instantly respond with supportive calls and texts.

Tender the ties that

bind families together

Hearts bleed when they break

It was not so easy to stay in touch in the 19th century.  I have been researching my family tree and discovered a tragic tale about my great grandfather, William Patrick Roche, who suffered from the pain of losing his birth family for the whole of his life.  According to an old letter written by his granddaughter, my Aunty Nancy, William was born in Ireland in County Cork in 1840. His mother and father had 8 children, but after the last baby his mother died. The Irish Potato Famine was in full swing so William’s father could not manage all of the children on his own so he remarried.    His new wife did not get on with William. So a sea captain friend was paid 40 guinees to take William Patrick to sea and train him. William was 12 years old.  The rest of the family went on one of the ‘Famine Ships’ which sailed from Cobh to America.

Bound for a new life

But crammed into coffin ships

No comfort nor hope.

I searched the records at the National Archives in London and traced the original document which William’s father, James Roche signed.  The date was 2 February 1855.  The ship was HMS Conway and it was a Royal Navy flagship.  The commanding officer was John Fulford.  William’s birthdate was given as 17 March 1839!  Whether this was a true birthdate to make him look old enough, and because it was St Patrick’s Day, I don’t know but it makes him 16 when he signed up not 12 as the family history has him!  He was contracted as “Boy 2nd Class” to serve in the Royal navy for 10 years from his 18th birthday plus the time before he was 18 so that means 12 years, or up to 1867.  I believe I have traced him on the 1861 census serving on a ship called “Victor Emmanuel” in the Meditterranean.  I have not managed to trace him on the 1871 census so it may be that he was on a merchant vessel, sailing overseas on tea clippers at this time.

After William went to sea in 1855 he never saw his family again because their father and new wife emigrated to USA with the other children.

Fleeing the famine

Fragmented Families sailed

To an Isle of Tears

William eventually became 1st mate on Tea Clippers that sailed between China and UK. One day he sailed into Glasgow and decided to take a trip to the highlands of Scotland. Near Inverness he saw a young girl sitting on a farm gate. her hair was so long she could sit on it. He thought she was beautiful and decided there and then that he would come back when she was older and marry her. Jessie Miller (born Munro) was her name. Her mother had died when she was 9 years old so she and her sister had gone to live with an aunt who had a farm for them to work on. 3 years later William Patrick came back for Jessie and they married and went to live in Sunderland. He became an optician and Jessie had 8 children. One of them was Lizzie Roche who was my grandmother. Sadly Jessie died in 1907 when she was just 50. William went on to reach the age off 76 dying in the Newcastle Royal Infirmary in 1916. He often travelled to Dublin to try and trace where his family had gone. He also put adverts in American newspapers.  But he never did find any of them again. Today with the internet I am hoping to continue the search on his behalf.

“O the tender ties

Close twisted with the fibres of the heart,

Which broken break them, and drain off the soul

Of human joy; and make it pain to live.” 

by Young

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Storm Haiku

On far distant hills

Dark storm clouds are gathering

Threatening thunder.

May Hill seen from Prinknash Abbey grounds today

May Hill seen from Prinknash Abbey grounds today

Today’s haiku prompt at haiku heights is ‘Storm’.  It brought to mind the time when I worked at St Peter’s Grange, Prinknash Abbey, which I have described in earlier posts.  The view from Prinknash is amazing as the Abbey is set high in the hills near Cranham and Painswick.  Although there are wonderful woods behind the Abbey, the front has a clear view over the vale towards Gloucester City with its beautiful Cathedral.  One day I will write about my time working at the King’s School in Gloucester (founded by Henry V111) while Harry Potter was being filmed in the Cathedral.  However, today I will stick to the point of my blog!  On a clear day there is a wonderful view from Prinknash, of May Hill, with its clump of trees on the summit.  They were planted in celebration of Queen Victoria’s Diamond Jubilee in 1897 and are visible for miles around.  Beyond that there are the Brecon Beacons and the Black Mountains.

Having observed that view on a daily basis, the monks were very good at forecasting the weather merely from looking at May Hill.  If the hill looked a misty blue they knew there would be rain at Prinknash later.  If the crown of trees was lost in cloud there would be a storm.

Interestingly, I discovered while working at St Peter’s Grange that it was built in this position, sheltered by the hills and trees, as protection from the plague.  There is documentary evidence, as well as internal evidence in the Grange, that some parts were built in the 14th century.  In 1339 the Bishop of Worcester granted a licence “For the Abbot of Gloucester and his fellow monks to celebrate Mass or to have it celebrated by a suitable chaplain in an oratory within their manor of Princkenasch.”  So we know that there was a chapel on the site then.  By the time the Grange was built the Black Death had already swept through England and people thought it was carried on the wind.  Wealthy people therefore built their homes on the side of a hill sheltered from the wind in the hope that this would protect them.

St Peter's Grange at Prinknash Abbey on the side of the hill, sheltered by trees

St Peter’s Grange at Prinknash Abbey on the side of the hill, sheltered by trees

One of my jobs at the Abbey was to polish the Parker room.  This room was named after William Parker who was Master of the Works in the Abbey before he was elected Abbot in 1515.  He was responsible for many improvements to the building.  In July 1535 Abbot Parker entertained King Henry V111 and Anne Boleyn for a week.  They used St Peter’s Grange as a hunting Lodge as there were many deer around – as there are today nearby.  One fascinating snippet that appeals to me is that Abbot Parker had windows put in positions from which he could watch the monks about their work.  He used to spy on them.  I believe, contrary to what Wikipedia says, that this is where the phrase “Nosey Parker” comes from.

St. Peter's Grange, Prinknash

St. Peter’s Grange, Prinknash (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

At Prinknash the monks have long been known for their art and craft work.  They made beautiful pottery for many years from the local clay.  They still make Incense that is exported all over the world.  One of the monks who has sadly passed away created a wonderful painting for the millennium which was displayed in the Abbey Church.  he also painted and created stained glass.  Many of his pictures were made into lovely cards which were sold in the Abbey Shop.  Today there is a gallery displaying the artwork of a prolific painter monk, Fr Stephen Horton.  I was fortunate enough to buy some of his original paintings while I worked at the Grange.  They are my pride and joy.  The one I love especially is a watercolour of the Vale of Gloucester as seen from the roof of the Abbey.   When inspiration struck him for this painting he had no suitably sized paper on which to paint the panorama.  Being a monk and used to making use of whatever is available, he used two pieces of A4 paper side by side.  This painting speaks to me of so much more than the view.  It is creativity at its most basic I feel.  The painting had to be painted there and then using whatever was to hand.  The muse could not wait for a trip to the art suppliers!  It also speaks to me of the way of life of the monks.  They waste nothing and ask for nothing.  They live such a simple life yet produce beauty all around them from whatever is there to be used.

Painting by Fr Stephen Horton OSB

Painting by Fr Stephen Horton OSB

One of the saddest things that happened at Prinknash was the theft of  a statue of Our Lady of Prinknash in 2002.  There are many statues at Prinknash but this one was extremely beautiful and so special.  It was about 20 inches tall, carved of Flemish Oak, and had belonged to St Thomas More. After the Reformation, it was taken abroad but returned in 1925 when the Benedictine monks founded their new abbey at Prinknash.  Of course this means it was hundreds of years old and priceless in the truest sense.   The Abbey Church was always open for visitors and those who wished to pray, and the statue used to stand on a shelf to the left side of the church.  One day it just disappeared while the monks were at tea, stolen to order presumably as nothing else was taken.  It devastated the community in the abbey and the wider community, including myself, who attended mass there.  I almost believe it took the heart out of some of the monks and the community itself.  I have a picture of that statue and I often think that one day it will return to its rightful home.  Maybe when the current unrightful owner dies he will leave it in his will to be returned to Prinknash ~ after all he can’t take it with him!

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Remembrance Sunday

Poppy Day in UK

Remembrance Day falls on the same day as Armistice Day this year, Sunday 11th November.  This will not happen again until 2018.  Somehow as I get older it seems more special.  I listened to the BBC Radio 4 Remembrance Service at the Cenotaph in London today.  It was very moving.  There were 2 veterans of the Battle of El Alamein speaking.  They were only 21 in 1942 when the battle occurred.  It is recognised as a turning point in the war.   After this victory at El Alamein, Winston Churchill would write in “The Hinge of Fate”, his famous verdict: “Before Alamein we never had a victory. After Alamein, we never had a defeat.”

Field Marshal Montgomery and Rommel

Grandad
With Durham Light Infantry in the Western Desert

My grandfather, Frederick Charles McCluskey was in the Durham Light Infantry with the Eighth Army and fought in this battle.  He was one of the lucky ones, he survived.   But he had a tough time in this war and it left him with Malaria, which recurred throughout his life, and dreadful foot problems from his long trek through the desert.  He was part of the long march through the Western desert and told me that he wore out the soles of his shoes, then the soles of his feet on this trek.  His friends wrote an obituary in the local newspaper after he died in 1988:-

“Tyneside war hero, Major Frederick Charles McCluskey who played a leading role in a legendary desert trek to freedom, has died at the age of 88.  In June 1942, he and 200 men from The Durham Light Infantry’s 9th Battalion evaded fierce enemy fire to escape after being surrounded by a division of Rommel’s desert army at Gazzala, North Africa.  They travelled 350 gruelling miles to safety.   Major McCluskey, who lived in Newcastle fought in both world wars.”

Grandad
Major F C McCluskey

I also found out that my grandfather who was born in 1900 enlisted in the army for the First World War.  He was just 14 years 8 months when he joined as a Bugler with the Yorkshire Regiment.  He served right through the First World War.  After the war he joined the Durham Light Infantry and was with them throughout his career, ending it as a Major with a commendation for the MBE.  He only left the army in 1952 when my much loved grandmother, his wife, was dying of stomach cancer.

Grandad as a young bugler in the First World War

In 1952 he bought a general store in Newcastle where I spent many happy childhood hours sitting by the fire in the back of the shop, or helping myself to sweeties.

I am very proud of my granddad and it is lovely to remember him today and all he did for our country.

I also remember my dad who was in the Royal Navy.  My mum and he were married during the war in 1945

Mum and Dad’s Wedding 1945

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Silence

My blog today is inspired by Haiku Heights prompt word for this week which is ‘Silence’

For many years I have had a quote on my shelf and I have no idea who said it but it brings me great comfort . . .

Let thy soul walk softly in thee

As a saint in Heaven unshod

For to be alone with silence

Is to be alone with God

My son used to say the most peaceful places are under the sea or on top of a mountain.  He used to dive and he still climbs,  so the first Haiku is for him . . .

Seeking solitude

In an underwater world

Stilled by silence

Any new mother will tell you that the most peaceful time is when her child is sleeping peacefully.  As a grandmother this is still true . . .

Nestled in shadows,

In silence I watch her sleep,

An angel at rest

Sometimes, when there are no words that can help, only ‘time out’ will soothe the broken heart or the troubled mind . . .

Silence speaks softly

Solicitous to sorrow

Soothing suffering

Having travelled to Lourdes many times, I am constantly amazed that there can be 40,000 emotional people gathered in the underground basilica for a service but a gentle “Shhh!” will bring total silence . . .

Soft shushed to silence

In sickness and suffering

They stream into Lourdes

2am in the grotto at lourdes, a time for silent prayer

Studying Icons

In silent contemplation

Wisdom is revealed