Sunday 15 September 2024

Miracle




 Dear reader,

The barn swallow is the most widespread species of swallow in the world, occurring on all continents, with vagrants reported even in Antarctica.

The barn swallow is a bird of open country that normally nests in man-made structures and consequently has spread with human expansion.  It builds a cup nest from mud pellets in barns or similar structures and feeds on insects caught in flight.  This species lives in close association with humans and its insect-eating habits means it is tolerated by them; this acceptance was re-inforced in the past by superstitions regarding the bird and its nest.  There are frequent cultural references to the barn swallow in literary and religious works due to both its living in close proximity to humans and its annual migration.

Folk Lore:  In many places a swallow nesting in the house brought good luck, in other places, swallow nests were thought to protect buildings from fire and lightening.  Disturbing a swallow's nest would bring bad luck and would make the cow's milk bloody, or dry up altogether.

                                                                               *

 

From William Blake  September 23rd  1800 in Sussex

'The villagers of Felham are not meer Rustics; they are polite and modest. Meat is cheaper than in London, but the sweet air and the voices of winds, trees and birds, and the odours of the happy ground, makes it a dwelling for immortals.  Work will go on here with God speed.  A roller and two harrows lie before my window.  I met a plow on my first going out at my gate the first morning after my arrival, and the Plowboy said to the Plowman, 'Father, the Gate is Open.'

 

From Gilbert White  September 23rd 1781 in Hampshire

'Begin to light fire in the parlour.'

 

From Gilbert White  September 25th 1771 in Hampshire

'Hedge-sparrow begins its winter note.'

                                                                                       *


Miracle
 
 
Rich in England’s spring,
cow parsley entrancing
in dog-rosed hedge,
the fecund earth lush green,
a baby swallow
hatches in a Suffolk barn,
to the cries of gulls
flying over mudflats,
over sea-lavender.
 
This small bird grows
embracing our summer warmth,
swooping on insects caught
above rolling grasslands.
It dips and tumbles gracefully,
trouble free.
 
But what instinct tells of winter’s cold?
This bird, hand-sized, will
fly over icy Pyrenees,
thirst through the parched Sahara,
soar and glide on trade winds,
south to The Cape of Africa
drawn, inexplicably, to the heat
of the southern sun.
 
In early spring does
this swallow’s courageous heart
grow restless, homesick for 
a Suffolk barn?
Is it a miracle that some force
of nature returns this minute bird
to its birth-nest by the English sea?
Who knows, but it seems so to me.
 
 
                                                                                    *
With very best wishes, Patricia

Sunday 8 September 2024

When my dad came home

 Dear Reader,








This year our sweet peas just didn't want to bloom.  These five in the photograph are the only ones that survived but they smelt wonderful and looked gorgeous.   I wonder what we did wrong in the planting?  Please let me know if you do know the secret to make them happy and produce.

                                                                                 *

There are two great claimants to the invention of whisky, the Irish and the Scots.  But distillation, the process of using heat to separate liquids into component compounds dates back to ancient Greeks. 

William Grant founded the first distillery in 1887 to redefine the world of whisky.  In fact in 1963, Glenfiddich claimed to be the first single malt available in a sea of blends meaning that everything else before was exclusively blended Scotch whisky.

Single malt whisky is often considered the highest quality type of whisky, and it is usually more expensive than other types of whisky.  This spirit classification is often described as being smoother and more complex than other whiskies, and they are often used in mixed drinks or enjoyed on their own.

                                                                                  *

 

 

From John Clare  September 10th 1824 in Northants

'The swallows are flocking together in the skies ready for departing and a crowd has dropt to rest on the walnut tress where they twitter as if they were telling their young stories of their long journey to cheer and check fears.'

From William Cobbett  September 11th 1826 in Wiltshire

'Between Somerford and Oaksey I saw, on the side of the road, more goldfinches than I had ever seen together; I think fifty times as many as I had ever seen at one time in my life.  The favourite food of the goldfinch is the seed of the thistle.  This seed is just now ripe.  The thistles are all cut and carried away from the fields by the harvest; but the grow alongside the roads; and, in this place, in great quantities.  So that the goldfinches were got here in flocks, and as they continued to fly along before me for nearly half a mile, and still sticking to the roads and banks, I do believe I had, at least, a flock of ten thousand flying before me.'

                                                                               *


When my dad came home

 

 

he nodded off

in the old armchair,

any time,

forgot everything,

could name no names.

 

Tobacco smoke from woodbines

filled the house,

he drank malt whisky,

came home unsteadily from the pub.

 

He talked of cricket, he whistled

and hummed old country and western songs,

rocked in the rocking chair

and potted up red geraniums.

 

He ate junket and white fish

had headaches,

and he wept sometimes.

 

But we were good friends, my dad and I,

night times he told me stories,

and tucked me into bed.

I never asked him about the war,

and he never said.

  


                                                                                   *

With very best wishes, Patricia

 

 

 

Sunday 1 September 2024

The Mind Cupboard





 Dear reader,

By the 17th century the cupboard was taking over the role of the chest as the principle piece of storage furniture.  The concept of cupboards can be traced back to medieval times when they were primarily used for the display of cups and dishes.  These early cupboards were simple wooden structures with shelves or drawers, often adorned with decorative elements like carvings or ornate hardware.

During the Victorian era cupboards were primarily used for storing clothes, linens and household items.  They were often small and cramped and only rich people could afford to have a separate cupboard for their clothing.  In fact many people used wardrobes and armories to store their clothes which were often made of heavy wood and ornate carvings.

During the 1940s/1960s cupboards became more stream lined and minimalist. The focus was on clean lines and simplicity.

                                                                               *

The mind cupboard is where our life is stored.  We can open the door and see and remember what we did, or not remember that well.  My memory is getting very poor especially with words but I use the five minute game and, usually, whatever I am looking for comes back.  In the middle of the night I often wonder why I did this thing or that - was I mad or what?  I never know even now.  Still I have got to 84 and things don't look too bad, I did my best, helping as many people as I could and I am still here, alive. The cupboard holds my adventures which I enjoy looking at sometimes, sometimes sadly and sometimes with a smile.

                                                                               *

From William Cobbett   September 1st 1823 in Kent

From Tenterden I st off at five o'clock , and got to Appledore after a most delightful ride, the high land upon my right, and the lowland upon my left.  The fog was so thick and white along some of the low land, that I should have taken it for water, if little hills and trees had not risen up through here and there.

 

From Ann Radcliffe  September 3rd 1797 in Sussex

Walked towards Shakespeare's Cliff, the fleet still in view.   Looked down from the edge of the cliffs on the fine red gravel margin of the sea.  Many vessels on the horizon and in mid-channel. The French coast, white and high, and clear in the evening gleam.   Everything upon the sea becoming melancholy, silent and pale.   A leaden-coloured vapour rising upon the horizon, without confounding the line of separation; the ocean whiter, till the last deep twilight falls, when all is one gradual, inseparable, undistinguishable, grey.

                                                                                  *

The Mind Cupboard
 
 
My mind cupboard overflows
with unwanted debris.
It needs a spring clean.
 
I will brush away the cobwebs
of cheerless thoughts.
Scrub out the stains of childhood.
 
I will replace the brass hooks
corroded with salt tears,
empty all the screams
hoarded through the years.
 
I will replace the accumulated ashes
from the worn shelf-paper,
with virgin tissue.
 
I will chase and catch the wasps,
relieve them of their stings.
I will refill this cupboard
with love, and learnt, brighter things.
 
 
                                                                                 *
With best wishes,  Patricia
 
The Mind Cupboard is on again by popular request.