Blue Gingham Dress

 Dear Reader,

Do you know the poem 'Warning' by Jenny Joseph which said something on the lines of: when she was an old woman she was going to wear purple and a red hat which wouldn't suit her.  I had been looking in my wardrobe lately and found most of my clothes were either beige or navy blue or something dull. But in these dreary times I have been wanting to wear colourful clothes, like Jenny,  to cheer myself and everyone else up. Since I don't go shopping and had found nothing on line that I liked until I went to Lyme Regis and found lovely Soraya, on the beach. She was selling bright coloured jackets which I fell in love with immediately and bought five different colours.  They will go with my pinafore dresses and act as a cardigan.  Two of them were for my children who were very pleased with them.

In the photograph is Horatio the Lyme Regis mouse Francis bought for me.  Francis made him some trousers to go with his nautical jersey.  Horatio was very excited to read this week of the rat, Magawa, who was awarded a gold medal for 'life saving bravery' for his work detecting dangerous land mines. If possible Horatio would would like to do something similar, but I am not sure there is anything like that available here where we live.

                                                                                   *

From Gilbert White, 1771 in Hampshire

'Hedge-sparrow begins its winter note'.

From John Clare, 1824 in Northampton

'Took a walk in the fields, heard the harvest cricket and shrew-mouse uttering their little chickering songs among the crackling stubble'.

                                                                               *

Blue Gingham Dress

She was wearing
a blue gingham dress
long-sleeved, with lace collar,
one summer evening in July.

A sweet smell from lilies
lavender bushes
roses and orange blossom
drifted on the air,

the sea sapphire
played its own repetitive tune
soft and enticing
and a southerly wind blew.

Suddenly he took her hand
drew her near
kissed her urgently
then came a call,

they separated
ran back to the house
her heart racing
knees weak, on fire.

The gingham dress
worn and faded now
hangs at the back of the cupboard,
but the kiss is till as fresh
as it was on that one
summer evening in July.

                                                                             *

With best wishes, Patricia

Spirit Suitcase

                                                                                        Spirit dancing

 

Dear Reader,

Oscar Wilde said "hearing about other people's happiness was a trifle dull"so keeping that in mind I won't bore you too much about my holiday in Lyme Regis last week. Sufficient to say we had marvelous sunny weather, a beautiful room over looking the sea, and good things to eat in small restaurants on the promenade.  I bought two beautiful Indian jackets from an Iranian girl called Soraya and made friends with her and her mother.  

I have never been that keen on holidays as I don't like crowds and feel happy and safe in my own house, but this holiday was different and marvelous.  We met an old friend who had lived in India for most of his life,  but now lives in Lyme and was a practising hypnotist. I asked him to hypnotise me to help with my anxiety and it was very successful. I hope this is not too much for you to take in but after months of shielding and staying in the house it was wonderful to get away for five days in the sun.

                                                                                   *

From Francis Kilvert's diary, 1870, in Radnorshire

'Another dense white fog which cleared off to cloudless blue and brilliant sunshine at 11.....Went to Bronith.   People at work in the orchard gathering up the windfall apples for early cider.   The smell of the apples very strong. Beyond the orchards the lone aspen was rustling loud and mournfully a lament for the departure of summer.  Called on the old soldier. He was with his wife in the garden digging and gathering red potatoes which turned up very large and sound.....The great round red potatoes lay thick, fresh and clean on the dark newly turned mould.....the sun grew low ......we heard distant shots at partridges'.

                                                                                  *

Spirit Suitcase

A sturdy key
locks the spirit
in its suitcase

It floats and dances,
dives low, climbs high,
is forever candle-lit. 

The suitcase, new, shines,
leather polished,
locks and fittings brass-bright,
unbruised.
But through use, it gets kicks,
scuffs, scratches, and slowly fades.
Its original shape
is just recognisable,
only just there



While the spirit dances on...... 

                                                                                       *

 

With best wishes, Patricia

Was it chance

 Dear Reader,

There hasn't been too much to laugh at these last few weeks but in Friday's newspaper I read the following article and laughed and laughed at is total absurdity.  I am sorry if you saw yourself but it is for those didn't.

A Unisex hairdressing salon in Stroud, Glocestershire put an advertisement in the local paper stating that they were looking for a "happy" stylist to join the business. 'This is a busy, friendly small salon, so only happy, friendly stylist need apply.' it said. The owner, Mrs. Birch, said an official from the Department for Work and Pensions contacted her within an hour of the advertisement going into the paper to say she "couldn't use the word 'happy' as it discriminated against people who weren't happy.  Can you believe it? What will we hear next?  If you didn't laugh you would cry I suppose.

                                                                            *

From Francis Kilvert, 1875,  in Wiltshire.

'The morning suddenly became glorious and we saw what had happened in the night.All night long millions of gossamer spiders had been spinning and the whole country was covered.....The gossamer webs gleamed and twinkled into crimson and gold and green, like the most exquisite shot-silk dress in the finest texture of gauzy silver wire.  I never saw anything like it or anything so exquisite as 'the Virgin's web' glowed with changing opal lights and glanced with all the colours of the rainbows.  At 4 o'clock Miss Meridith Brown and her beautiful sister Etty came over to afternoon tea wit us and a game of croqquet. 

 

*

Was it chance                        

that the girl
in the yellow jersey
bought herself a chocolate bar
at the station buffet
and then dropped it?

A man in blue jean jacket
picked it up.
They smiled, talked
missed their trains
and walked away into
a different life.

Was it chance
they saw in an old
newspaper an advertisement
for a cottage by the sea -
their dream home?

Chance can change our lives
does change our lives

we are what we are
where we have been
what we have done
when chance comes knocking.

 

*

With very best wishes, Patricia.

Photograph by Nikki Moran.