This Man

Pictures of Ratty

Dear reader, 

Making my breakfast last week I looked out of the window and saw a large rat in the garden.  Now I am not keen on rats.  They are a smidgen better than mice because they don't scuttle about but nevertheless I am not keen.  In fact I sat down all of a tremble.  Knowing my usual anxious state I started to imagine that he/she would get into the house, and possibly have lots of baby rats as well.

So what was the best thing to do?  I decided that I had to think of a rat that I liked or at least tolerated.  Ah yes, I thought, Ratty from The Wind in the Willows, and was in fact,  quite fond of. It was possible I suppose that the rat in my garden was a vague relation of The Wind in the Willows character and therefore a sort of friend.  

The trembling stopped and I felt composed again.  

The moral of this tale is, I suppose, that it is your attitude to events that makes us calm and happy.The way we digest news of any kind can take take the stress out of it if we allow it to.

Change your attitude and see if I am not right.

                                                                                     *

 

 From Gilbert White    June7th 1783 in Hampshire

'Tulips are faded.   Honeysuckles still in beauty.  My columbines are very beautiful.  Tied some of the stems with pieces of worsted, to mark them for seed.  Planted out pots of green cucumbers.'

 

From Francis Kilvert   June 15th  1873 in Wiltshire

'The sun and the golden buttercup meadow had it almost to themselves......One or two people were crossing the Common early by the several paths through the golden sea of buttercups which will soon be the silver sea of ox-eyes.   The birds were signing quietly.  The cuckoo's notes tolled clear and sweet as a silver bell.' 

                                                                            *

 

this man

 

loved blue

 

it was a ship, a blue ship

 

that he sailed in

 

it was his power

 

made his heart beat faster

 

drove him along life’s waterways

 

 

but he sailed away

 

came adrift

 

became shipwrecked

 

no power no heartbeat

 

this man

 

had lost the blue

 

 

but I made a small ship out of wood

 

gave it sails of the finest silk

 

an engine fired with love

 

 now he sails again

 

his power came back

 

 

and I painted the ship blue

 

for

 

this man

 

 

                                                              *

With very best wishes, Patricia 

 

For You, Everyman

 Dear Reader

 

The Kaftan is one of the world's oldest garments.  Originating in ancient Mesopotamia and Persia (c.600 BC) the long loose an airy tunics was originally a practical lightweight garment designed to beat the heat, and served as a symbol of nobility and status. 

Over millennia, it spread along global trade routes and evolved to become a symbol of power, high fashion, and everyday luxury across multiple empires.  The Ottomans embraced the Kaftan  primary garment.  The robes were meticulously crafted from fine silk, velvet and gold.

The colours, patterns and buttons displayed the weaver's exact rank.  Sultans also used them as diplomatic gifts to important dignitaries and generals. Originally reserved for royal court and elite, it became a cornerstone of Moroccan wedding ceremonies and traditional craftsmanship.

The Kaftan was embraced by Western hippies and travelers in the l960s and l970s who discovered them on the "hippy trail"across North Africa and India. 

 

                                                                             * 

 

From Dorothy Wordsworth    May 31st  1802 in Westmorland

'We sat out all day.'

 

From William Allingham   May 31st  1865 in Donegal

'Walk in the garden at  midnight and her corncrake.'

 

From Thomas Hardy   June 3rd  1865 in London

'Walked about by moonlight in the evening.  Wondered what woman, if any, I should be thinking about in five years' time.' 

                                                                          * 

 

 

For You,

Everyman

 

 My smile is for you.

Yes, you, the man on the omnibus,

You, the woman in the crowd,

You, the small child, playing in the dust,

You, the homeless, the tramp unbowed,

You, in business suit, you, in kaftan,

You, the tall, you, the short,

 

Yes, You, Everyman.

 

The exchanged smile

acknowledges shared humanity

in this fleeting recognition.

No words are needed.

 

                                                                     *

With very best wishes, Patricia 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

A Valediction

 Dear Reader,

 

Daisy chains trace their origins back to folklore, pastoral pastimes, and mythology of Europe. While the exact inventor is  lost to history the craft of weaving Bellis perennis stems dates back centuries, evolving from ancient Celtic and Roman myths into a timeless symbol of innocence, youth and peace.

In Celtic mythology daisies were said to be scattered over the earth by God to cheer parents who had lost a child.  The white petals and yellow centres came to symbolize pure spirits. 

                                                                               *

 

I am finally feeling better and have come to one conclusion about prescription pills.   They do not suit me at all.  I was given pills because I said to the doctor I had nightmares; the pills I was prescribed gave me more nightmares. I had been feeling ill with strange thoughts in my head and, guess what, some of the blood pressure pills I was taking were known for giving you bad and strange thoughts.  So now I take none of the pills and feel good and happy.  One piece of advice:  always read the side effects that you might have in your prescription pills, this is essential for understanding what you might be experiencing.

 

                                                                                *

From D.H. Lawrence  May 24th  1916 in Cornwall

'The country is simply wonderful, blue, graceful little companies of bluebells everywhere on the moors, the gorse in flame, and on the cliffs and by the sea, a host of primroses like settling butterflies, and seapinks like a hover of pink bees, near the water.  There is a Spanish ship run on the rocks just below - great excitement everywhere.' 

From Francis Kilvert  May 27th   1874 in Wiltshire

'.....banks and hedges brilliant with pink campion.....As I came home the western heavens were jewelled with pure bright sparkling lights of grey silver and pale gold, and overhead a sublime mackerel sky of white and blue in its distant fleecy beauty gave me more intense and grand sense of infinity and illimitable than I ever remember to have had before.' 

 

                                                                                    *

A Valediction

 

To innocence

to childhood

to youth

to skipping about

to making daisy chains

to looking in the mirror

seeing someone pretty

to wearing gypsy clothes

feeling exotic in them

to flirting and being flirted with

to kissing someone new

drowning in that indescribable

feeling of lust and love

to smoking king size cigarettes

to being passionate about something

daydreaming about a bright future

to changing the world

making poverty unknown

the poor rich.

 

But knowing now the truth

about old age being shite

hello to fudge and ice cold gins,

small pleasures and quieter things.

 

                                                                     *

With very best wishes,  Patricia 

 

 

My Memoir Written last year. HALF A PAIR OF PEOPLE

                                                                                 

Dear Reader,

 

It seems to me that you like my Instagram sketches, thank you so much.

 

Last year I brought out a book of my life up to the time that I lived in Oxford in 1980.  Lots of stories of my varied life which you seem to enjoy. So Friends here is an idea.

 

Why not buy one?

All you have to do is go on line to AMAZON.

Go to the books section and write PATRICIA HUTH and it will come up and you can order the book wherever you live.

Everyone who has read it has enjoyed it very much and I think you will too.  It is funny.

 

Thank you for all your wonderful support over the years, eleven years now since I started my blog.  And it has been fun, I have only missed five Sundays in all that time.

 

Very best wishes, Patricia 

 

 

  

Misconception

 

 

 Dear reader,

After I got divorced I went to live in Oxford and tried to find a job.  My secretarial skills were minimal. I could just manage 120 words of shorthand and my typing was abysmal. So I enrolled at the College of Further Education and for several months I tried to improve.  In fact my shorthand was very poor  and needed prompt attention.  It never got any better.

Anyway, I finally applied for a job in an Oxford College as a secretary.  I sort of imagined that working in an Oxford College would be just the ticket, with wonderful interesting academics and lovely buildings to admire.  As so often with imaginations of this nature it was not the case.   

I managed to get a job as the Fellows' secretary in a well known college.  The job was in a cupboard with hardly room to stand up in and the typewriter had seen better days.  The dons themselves were a weird bunch, some very nice and some not so. There was a Greek who always wanted to be first in the queue for his correspondence to be typed, I was not in a position to argue so he always was first.

 It was an enormous relief when I left after a year and probably the dons were relieved too.   I wasn't cut out to be a secretary, I would rather wash up in a hotel, which I also did.  Ah well...

                                                                                 *

 

 

From Francis Kilvert   May 18th  1874 in Wiltshire

'Went with Dora at 3 o'clock to a picnic in the Marsh....... we played hide-and-seek in the wood and danced Sir Roger de Coverley under the oaks in the green glade near the keeper's lodge.  Agnes and Edith made a pretty picture once for a moment as they stood together on the mound at the foot of one of the  oaks, dressed alike sisterly in bright magenta skirts.

The sheets of bluebells were still in all their splendour and the pink rhododendrons were just beginning to show their blossoms. 

 

                                                                                    * 

 

 

 

 

Misconception

 

The woman thought when she left

the office building would explode,

blood from her willing heart

would drip from the ceiling,

pieces of her goodwill,

her ready smile,

possibly her arms and legs,

would drop into waste bins,

flow out of filing cabinets,

strew the carpet with bits of herself.

The atmosphere would be dank

with tears for the loss of her.

She knew her worth.

 

In the spring, Sandra met her.

Karen, from Accounts,

now has her job, she said.

She is brilliant, everyone loves her.

 

The woman walked away,

mantled in her goodness,

surprised at what poor judgements

people make.

 

                                                                                           *

 

With very best wishes, Patricia 

Sometimes

Dear Reader,

 

A little while ago I contracted a particularly nasty disease called UTI, standing for Urine Tract Infection.  As a result I felt unwell for much of the time.  I was telling this sad story to my daughter Jessica who said I need something to cheer me up.  And we thought of the fun that could be had on Instagram if I could think of anything interesting to say.

 

So this is what we did.  And if you are interested go to Instagram, hit on Patricia Huth Ellis and you will get to see all my little sketches.  They seem to be very popular and I am not quite sure why.  I do say that I am a poet, and 86 years old but that doesn't seem to put people off. Ah well it is great fun and at last I am feeling much better and enjoying its success.

 

Many thanks to all of you who have written, obviously I can't write individually but I am very appreciative nevertheless. 

*

 

 

 

 

From D.H. Lawrence   May 24th  1916 in Cornwall

 

 The country is simply wonderful, blue, graceful little companies of bluebells everywhere on the moors, the gorse in flame, and on the cliffs and by the sea, a host of primroses, like settling butterflies, and seapinks like a hover of pink bees, near the water.  There is a Spanish ship run on the rocks just below - great excitement everywhere.'

From Francis Kilvert  May 27th  1875 in Wiltshire

'My bedroom is illuminated all day with a beautiful rosy light from the glorious blossom of the pink may on the lawn.'

From Gilbert White   May 28th  1793 in Hampshire

'My weeding-woman swept up on the grass-plot a bushel basket of blossoms from the white apple-tree; and yet that tree still covered the bloom.' 

                                                                                         *

 

Sometimes

 

I feel overwhelmed by

a spirit of joyfulness,

a desire to jump, to dance,

to laugh, to see the world

in a bright light,

 

sometimes I am optimistic,

enjoy the warmth of the sun,

soft patter of rain on my face,

the wonders of this world.

 

Sometimes I believe

people are kind and good

are innocent of evil

deserve praise and

I honour them

 

and sometimes I don’t.

 

                                                                       ^*

 

^{With very best wishes, Patricia} 

 

 

 

 

           

                                                                              *

 

Journeys

                                                                     Kilimanjaro
 

 

Dear Reader,

 I put this poem on the blog this week to remind me of the many journeys I have taken in my long life and now, sadly, can no longer enjoy except from the sitting room sofa.  My most favourite travel experience was going to Marrakesh in the 1970's.  It was just so different from anywhere I had ever been.  I went to school in Paris as a teenager and stayed in Gibraltar with an aunt and uncle in the 1950s but had never seen anything like the colour and wonder of Marrakesh.  I went with my first husband who was very handsome, blond blue eyed and tall.  And he was followed everywhere with promises of exotic times with the young boy's mother, sister, aunt,  themselves.  I didn't count at all.  I loved the golds, yellows and all the rich colours in the Sioux, and seeing camels trotting down the streets was so exciting to me. I think of that holiday with lovely memories, it was so different from Europe.

 

       

                                                                                 *

Francis has been in hospital this week again with the dreaded UTI  (Urine Tract Infection).  It is a beastly disease and apparently very difficult to get rid of and he has been very unwell.  I had it too and am not sure it has entirely gone even with the help of anti-bio tics.  I hate pills and frequently think they do more harm than good with the side effects.

                                                                                   *

from Gerard Manley Hopkins    May 3rd  1866 in Oxford

Cold.   Morning raw and wet, afternoon fine......Cowslips capriciously colouring meadows in creamy drifts.  Bluebells, purple orchids.   Over the green water of the river passing the slums of the town and under the bridges swallows shooting, blue and purple above and shewing their amber-tinged breasts reflected int the water. 

                                                                               *

Journeys

 

Young,
we fly to distant places,
walk the Silk Road,
swim in the Nile,
climb Kilimanjaro,
sail the great seas,
picnic in the desert
under the stars.

 

Middle aged, with children,
we travel to Europe,
walk in the hills,
ski, surf board, visit museums,
exclaim at the Eiffel Tower,
swim in rivers,
raid the High Streets.

Grandparents, and old now,

we travel all over the world,
enjoy lions in Africa,
natives dancing in Bali,
big white whales in vast oceans,
and explore National Parks

while drinking cups of tea,
preparing for the unknown

and longest journey.

 

                                                                                                 *

With very best wishes, Patricia 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

                                                                                     *