Wednesday, 8 April 2026

Wednesday Witterings . . .

 

 Good morning from a cold and mostly sunny Nova Scotia. I could see the half moon through the window of my bedroom waxing low in the Western skies, clear as a bell, and I marveled at the thought of those astronauts travelling around it in space at the moment. 

Funny thing is that the first time astronauts went to the moon, I was 14 years old and living not a stone's throw from where I am now. It is like a full-circle moment.  I can remember looking up at the moon at that time and being in awe of the wonder of it all.  The grainy black and white film on our television of Neil Armstrong bouncing across the dusty surface of the moon was so utterly, utterly, amazing to watch.

The thought of it all still overwhelms me with awe and amazement.


 

I had put a stale hot cross bun on the railing out front for the birds at the end of last week. One which I had purchased from the shops. (They were not very good to be honest.)  It is still sitting there. I must grab it today and fire it into the compost bin. 

I don't know what it is about the birds around here. I literally have none. A few jays that come to grab peanuts when I put them out, but that's about it.  I have had a hanging feeder out front filled with what was supposed to be high quality birdseed since Eileen came to stay and all I have seen is one lone junco during the snow storms we had. Nothing else has visited. I find that very odd. 

Yesterday when I went out to Cindy's to get dad his lunch (Cindy was away) the air surrounding her place was a cacophony of birdsong. I stood for a few minutes just listening to it. So beautiful. 

I miss my back hedgerow in England filled with sparrows and robins. I pretty much miss everything in England. I was telling Eileen last night that I wish I could live there but have all of my family with me, I miss it so very much. But you can't have both, and so I choose family.

But I do miss it. I suppose it is only natural. It was my home for so very long. But over there, I missed my family. Here is where I need to be. I love it here as well.


 

Every time we drive past a certain spot in town I point out to Eileen that there is her new apartment, being all going well. It really is an ideal location for her.  She will be able to walk everywhere she wants to go, including church. The grocery store is a stone's throw away.  The park. Tim Hortons. The bank. Downtown. Church.  It really is ideal.  We are still waiting to find out. I know she has her heart set on it. I truly hope it works out for her and that she is not disappointed. 

It is right next to the old Train museum, and is a fairly quiet location. The laundromat is just across the street.

I hope that she is able to settle well and to be happy. I can see that I will have to do a lot towards helping her get set up. I will probably sort out a store cupboard of sorts for her, with basics like flour, sugar, etc. in it. And some basic tinned goods, and other things that a person needs in a store cupboard.  She is amenable to me helping her to make up menus and grocery lists. It is going to take some very strict planning to keep her fed. I can, of course, subsidize her, but when I am gone there will be nobody to help her in that way, so it is important that she is able to do it by herself. 


 

I could see all kinds of green shoots pushing themselves up through the ground at Cindy's yesterday.  I do see a few out front here, but there are not a lot of bulbs that grow in front of my place. In fact none. I have a bleeding heart, some ditch lilies that come much later in the year, a couple of Hosta. That's it basically. I really should probably have the whole thing emptied and begin again. If I had the money, I would have everything pulled and cover it in gravel with only a few large pots to hold annuals. Maybe a large standing bird bath. That's it. Low maintenance. At this stage in life I crave nothing that requires a lot of work. I am not being lazy when I say that, just realistic.


 

I am often asked how can I be so cheerful most of the time.  I am not cheerful all of the time. I have some moments when I feel very low, but one thing which I have learned in life is that dwelling on our sad moments, mistakes, sorrows, etc. does not serve us well.  We can vow to do better and move forward. We can ask for forgiveness and then move on. We can forgive . . .  and then move on. Every time we choose to hang onto some which does not serve us well, it is like putting a huge stone into our backpacks of life. Before too long our backpack will be full and too heavy to carry. Perhaps even so full that we cannot move forward at all. You cannot change the past. The future is not here yet. All we have control of really is the here and the now.  And, in all truth, that is a limited control. Things will still happen that are out of our control. We will still be disappointed in people and things. We will still be hurt by people and circumstances. It does no good to dwell on the negative. I prefer instead to cling to the positive and the things in life I do and can control. If that makes me a happy person, then I am a happy person. I put my trust in the strong arm of the Lord. That makes a huge difference. I hand all of my rocks over to Him. I do not know how to explain how it works. I cannot put it into words. But He is real to me and it makes a difference. A difference in how I see life. A difference in how I live my life.  A difference in what I hope for in life.




Little things often get overlooked and forgotten. People might be tempted to think that little things don't really count or matter, but consider this . . .

A sneeze can start an avalanche . . . A pinprick can cause a horse to gallop in a wild frenzy . . .
All disease is spread by germs, which are invisible to the human eye . . . It only takes a tiny hole in the bottom of a boat to sink it . . . Water, one tiny drop at a time, can carve a hole in rock . . .

Everything is composed of molecules, which cannot be seen with the naked eye. Two molecules rubbing together can cause an atomic bomb to explode or heat a country . . .

A pen and a scrap of paper is all it takes to sign a Peace Treaty.  A slim gold band seals a marriage . . . A tender kiss . . . says I love you . . .

Yes, little things do mean a lot . . .
and the best things do
come in small packages!




I don't have a lot on my agenda for today. I have my cleaners coming later this morning. Usually they come on Tuesday but I was unsure as to whether I was going to have to go with my sister to her eye appointment or not yesterday so I put them off until today.  I have plans to gather all of my tax stuff together and pop it into my file folder to give to the tax man. Then I will maybe get started on my talk for later this month, and it being Wednesday we will probably meet up with Dad at the restaurant for supper. Eileen really looks forward to that. She has one of her CSS appointments today. I think they are doing something at the community college. She mentioned a film for the People's First group. Whatever happens today will get spent in one way or the other.  

My weather thingie says it will be a mostly sunny but coolish day. Not freezing but cool. I can handle that. 

A thought to carry with you . . . 

☾ ° ° * 。  
• ˚ ˚ ˛ ˚ ˛ • •。★★ 。* 。
° 。 ° ˛˚˛ * _Π_____*。*˚
˚ ˛ •˛•˚ */______/~\。˚ ˚ ˛
˚ ˛ •˛• ˚ | 田田 |門 ★
*It's important that people know
what you stand for, and what you won't.
• ˚ ˚ ˛ ˚ ˛ • •。★★ 。* 。• ˚ ˚ ˛ ˚ ˛ • •。★★ 。* 。 


Easy Yum Yum Muffins


In The English Kitchen today, Easy Yum Yum Muffins. This is a vintage recipe from the Five Roses cookbook. I small-batched it to make six simple muffins.  I have already had the nasty commentor put in their two cents worth, about them looking like old fashioned dry dry muffins.(delete) They are right, these are not like the modern cake-like muffins we get at the shops. These are like the muffins our grandmothers baked. Not meant to be cake. They are very good, and in the way that a muffin should be, served warm and spread with butter. Low in fat, low in sugar, nicely spiced and generously studded with raisins or toasted nuts. You decide.

I hope you have a lovely day. Whatever you get up to, I hope it brings you joy.  Don't forget!

═══════════ღೋƸ̵̡Ӝ̵̨̄Ʒღೋ═══════════ 
⊰✿░G░O░D⊰✿⊰L░O░V░E░S⊰✿⊰░Y░O░U░⊰✿
═══════════ ღೋƸ̵̡Ӝ̵̨̄Ʒღೋ ═══════════  

And I do too!    

   

Tuesday, 7 April 2026

A Day Book . . .

 



FOR TODAY, April 7th, 2026



OUTSIDE MY WINDOW ...

A mix of cloud and sun, it's cool. Some snow is expected tomorrow. A chilly day is expected today.


I AM THINKING ...

Eileen took the card from her sleep machine into the Sleep Shop to have it checked yesterday. Apparently before the machine she was stopping breathing on average 19 times an hour. Now it's only once. I think that's amazing.


 

I AM ALSO THINKING ...

I can't wait to see some color in the yards. Everything is still quite dismal.


 

I AM GRATEFUL FOR ...

My home. I am so grateful to have a roof over my head and the ability to pay for it. It is a special blessing from God.



I AM ALSO GRATEFUL FOR ...

This time I have to help Eileen get back on her feet again. We are going to work on menu plans and grocery lists. I cannot see where she will be able to afford to feed herself with only $80 a week. Yesterday she went with her worker and bought a loaf of bread, some popcorn, some soda, some water, some sugar free candy, sanitary napkins, some fruit and a few other tiny bits and it came to over $85. She had $10 on her rewards card so that came off, but still.  Groceries are so expensive. I am really concerned. I think I will have to completely kit her kitchen out before she even begins.

Speaking of kitchen  . . . 


IN THE KITCHEN ...

Hawaiian Hash Bake


Easy Hawaiian Hash Bake.  A vintage recipe from a vintage cookbook. This was incredibly delicious with cubes of ham and sweet potato baked beneath a sweet and buttery pineapple brown sugar topping.  Not only did it smell amazing while it was baking but the taste was absolutely incredible.  We both really enjoyed this. It was a great way to use up some leftover ham.




ON MY "TO COOK" LIST ...

Southern Eats and Goodies.  Quick Pickled Celery. This sounds really good.



THIS I BELIEVE ...

Its the only way I could have gotten through what I go through.


 

SOMETHING THAT IS NICE ...

A well manicured garden. I wish.



SOMETHING ELSE THAT IS NICE ...

Homemade bread. I need to make some. 


I AM WANTING TO CREATE ... 


 

Crochet poppies  . . . 


 

Crochet potholders  . . . 



A crochet table mat. Very pretty. No pattern that I can see, but very pretty all the same.


 

Little lemon pouches  . . . 


 

Crochet key chains  . . .  cute.


SOMETHING I ENJOY ...

 

Finding random feathers in unexpected places.  Angels  . . . 


SOMETHING ELSE I ENJOY ...

 

Illustrated quotes  . . . 



I AM READING ...

IN THE GREAT QUIET, by Laura Vogt


A pioneer unwaveringly endures the Oklahoma frontier in an epic adventure about a woman haunted by secrets and searching for home. 


 A cannon booms at high noon, and the race begins in the Oklahoma land rush of 1893. 

 Amid the crowd is Minnie Hoopes. Tenacious and fiercely independent, she is determined to endure the brutal frontier and create a life of her own. Guarding her solitude, she distances herself from bordering homesteaders and finds peace under the starry nights of the vast frontier. But this is outlaw country, and Minnie soon has the blood of two gunfighters on her hands. After a renegade outlaw named Stot discovers her secrets, she forms an unlikely friendship with him. With each passing season, Minnie’s past grows more haunting and threatens the future she has risked everything to build. Minnie raced into the Wild West alone, but her grandest journey in the frontier wilderness is one she never saw coming. 

 Based on the true story of the author’s great-great-grandparents, this sweeping and transportive survival story explores a woman’s connection with the land, her reconciliation with the past, and her elemental search for home against all odds. 

 Settle in, I’ve stories to tell.

I love stories based on true stories.  This is really good! I am about halfway through now.


THINGS THAT CATCH MY FANCY ...

 

A pretty butter dish  . . . 

 

Birds and Blooms  . . . 


 

Blue and White  . . . 


 


Vintage stoves  . . . 

 

Spring flowers  . . . 


MAKES ME SMILE ...

 

Happiness is looking at the little faces of pansies  . . .  love them.


SOMETHING TO WATCH ...

 


Netflix . . . 

A THOUGHT TO CARRY WITH YOU ...

☾ ° ° * 。  
• ˚ ˚ ˛ ˚ ˛ • •。★★ 。* 。
° 。 ° ˛˚˛ * _Π_____*。*˚
˚ ˛ •˛•˚ */______/~\。˚ ˚ ˛
˚ ˛ •˛• ˚ | 田田 |門 ★
*Stop trying 
to calm the storm.
Calm yourself.
The storm will pass

And that is my daybook for this week!  Thanks always for being here!


  ⋱ ⋮ ⋰
⋯ ◯ ⋯ Take time to enjoy the small *´¯`.¸¸.☆
  ⋰ ⋮ ⋱ blessings in life.*´¯`.¸¸.☆ 



✿¸.•*¨`*•..✿✿¸.•*¨`*•..✿ ✿¸.•*¨`*•..¸✿ ✿¸.•*¨`*•..¸✿ ✿¸.•*¨`*•. ╬♥═╬╬═♥=╬╬═♥╬╬═♥╬╬═♥=╬╬♥═╬♥╬╬═♥╬╬═♥=╬╬♥╬
░░░░░░░░░░░░░ ░░░░░░░░░░░░ ░░░░░░░░░░░░ 


Have a beautiful day!  Don't forget!  

═══════════ღೋƸ̵̡Ӝ̵̨̄Ʒღೋ═════════════ 
⊰✿░G░O░D⊰✿⊰L░O░V░E░S⊰✿⊰░Y░O░U░⊰✿
═══════════ ღೋƸ̵̡Ӝ̵̨̄Ʒღೋ ════════════  

And I do too!    

   

Monday, 6 April 2026

Small and Wonderful Things . . .

 



"The world is fairly studded and strewn with pennies cast broadside from a generous hand. But who gets excited by a mere penny? It is dire poverty indeed when a man is so malnourished and fatigued that he won't stoop to pick up a penny. But if you cultivate a healthy poverty and simplicity, so that finding a penny will literally make your day, then, since the world is in fact planted with pennies, you have with your poverty bought a lifetime of days. It is that simple. What you see is what you get." ~Anne Dillard 


 A few of the small and wonderful things which bring untold joy into my life. It's the small things in life which truly mean the most. Simple abundance . . . it's the best.



 


I was fed spiritually with abundance this weekend. Best weekend ever and I still have not finished listening to all of the talks. Uplifted and edified.  It was my church's spring General Conference and we were well fed from beginning to end.  It was Easter and we got to celebrate the empty tomb. I had my daughter here to share it with me. It was just really nice. The joy of the Gospel that I feel every day, amplified and enhanced.



 


It rained pretty much every day all weekend, but I can see the buds swelling on the trees. It won't be long before the Forsythia is in bloom and the daffodils, etc. It has been a bit warmer. Still pretty cold, but not frigid.


 

A simple weekend with simple pleasures. Faith and family. We ate some good food.  Facetimes with my oldest son. Good times with my oldest daughter. Time spent with Cindy, Dan and dad. It was all good.


 

We had the most delicious apple pie yesterday. Cindy had picked one up at Pelton's farm. It tasted homemade, probably because it was homemade. They make lots of pies each week, but it is a very small-scale business that way so really homemade. Nice and flaky pastry and a filling that melted in the mouth. It tasted just like one of my mom's apple pies. 



 


Never cry over spilt milk, broken jars of pesto on ceramic floors, or trays of bead art beads dropped on the carpet. Or rather slowly spilled across the carpet, floor, etc. as you carry your project to your workspace. Eileen has been enjoying doing her bead art. It really makes me feel happy to see her enjoying being creative.  Last night when we got back from Cindy's she went to take it from where she had it to put it on a TV tray so she could work on it while we were watching the television only to discover when she got there that one of the trays of beads was empty, it's contents having slowly spilt out on her way to the TV tray. She still had plenty of beads in other bags of the same color, so it really wasn't a biggie that way but she was really upset that she had made a mess.  I was able to convince her that it was nothing to really be upset about. I have a vacuum cleaner and it does a great job. Never cry over spilt milk. Just clean it up and move forward. The world does not end.

My late mother-in-law was such a great example to me in this area. She never fussed when things went pear shape.  She just saw it as another challenge to overcome and she loved nothing more than to tackle a challenge. She would almost light up.


 

I have truly been blessed by the wonderful examples of many women in my life. I could sit here and list each one off and tell you how much their examples have inspired me to become a better person, but I won't. Let it suffice to say that if you are a woman in my life now, or have been a woman in my life in the past, you are, your example is . . . an inspiration to me. I have always been surrounded by strong women and positive examples. I would and do consider that one of my life's greatest blessings.


 

A wonderfully beautiful homemade life.  Filled with simple joys and pleasures. A life created from scratch with simple things that bring joy and peace to my heart. I was telling my son yesterday that my home was sacred ground, holy ground and that nothing comes in through my door that I don't want to have in my space. It is my choice what I decide to let in.  Visually, intellectually, the things I read, the things I watch, the things I listen to. If it doesn't serve me well, it doesn't get through the door. Again, my choice. That doesn't make me ignorant or uninformed. I know what I need to know. It makes me at peace with my life and the world around me.  We are surrounded by so many lies and misinformation today. So much hurt and anger. So much hatred.  I don't let it in. Instead I focus on the good in my life. It's simple really.  Or I try to in any case.  Occasionally something negative slips in but I am very quick to toss it out.


 


A little bit of ice cream. Now who doesn't love that. Vanilla. Simple.  Good. Vanilla. A little bit of what brings you joy does you the world of good.


 

I really cannot complain about this life of abundance I am living. I have everything I need and enough to share. I am rich in the things of life which matter most. I am blessed beyond measure.  Faith, family, friends, home, health, love. Its all good.

A thought to carry with you . . . 

☾ ° ° * 。  
• ˚ ˚ ˛ ˚ ˛ • •。★★ 。* 。
° 。 ° ˛˚˛ * _Π_____*。*˚
˚ ˛ •˛•˚ */______/~\。˚ ˚ ˛
˚ ˛ •˛• ˚ | 田田 |門 ★
*Joy is the happiness
that doesn't depend
on what happens.


Air Fryer Ham & Turkey Toastie



In The English Kitchen today  . . .  Easy Air Fryer Ham & Turkey Toastie.  Eileen and I share one of these for our lunch on Saturday and it was good, good, good. Crisp and toasty golden brown on the outsides and filled with lovely flavors. 


I hope your week ahead is filled with abundance and plenty of small and wonderful things which bring you joy.  Whatever you get up to, don't forget!

═══════════ღೋƸ̵̡Ӝ̵̨̄Ʒღೋ═══════════ 
⊰✿░G░O░D⊰✿⊰L░O░V░E░S⊰✿⊰░Y░O░U░⊰✿
═══════════ ღೋƸ̵̡Ӝ̵̨̄Ʒღೋ ═══════════  

And I do too!    

   

Saturday, 4 April 2026

Saturday Nice . . .

 

I slept on a balsam pillow
And dreamed of woods and streams
And heard the meadow lark's clear call
Piping through my dreams,
And the muted sound of water leaping
Ran like gay music through my sleeping.

I slept on a balsam pillow
And the northern woods were mine
And I felt the wind in my tired heart,
Blowing o'er fir and pine,
And the smell of the wild was sweet to the taste
Of brown clean waters and marshy waste.

I slept on a balsam pillow
Far from the haunts of men
And the smoke from a camp fire drifted by
Sweet in my face again.
And I heard the hoot-owl's mournful cry
And the wings of wild geese going by.

I slept on a balsam pillow
And the smell of the earth was sweet,
Needles of pine like a Persian rug
Spongy beneath my feet.
The taste of resin and sage and brier,
Ashes blown from a woodland fire.
Edna Jacques, Balsam Pillow
Roses in December, 1944

I cannot begin to tell you why I love the poetry of Edna Jacques so much. I have loved her words since I was a very young girl and could barely read. Our mother had a slim green volume of Edna's poetry that was kept in our bookcase called Fireside Poems, the dust jacket long having since evaporated into nothingness.  There was a poem in it, "I Think of Mother," that she particularly liked. She said it reminded her of her mother and of the old farmstead on the mountain. Her love of this book created a love of it in me and I read through the poetry on it's pages often through the years. When I went to move out West to be married, she gave it to me because I loved it so. In later years, she did not remember the book, or loving it as she had done when she was young. When I mentioned it to her, it was as if she was knowing it for the very first time. How odd memory is.  How we capture and keep some things and yet throw away others.  And, I know I have told you how I came to love Edna's words before . . . but I do so love to remind myself of this lost connection between my mother and I.  I miss her every day. 




 And somehow remembering these connections keeps her alive in my memory.  I was worried when she passed that I would one day forget the sound of her voice, but I can hear it still in my mind's eye, as clear as clear can be, and I am grateful for that.

Mom always looked like a princess to me.  She was never sloppy or unkempt.  I love this photograph of her. It speaks volumes to me.  That dress was a very pretty blue color of a satin fabric overlaid with stiff netting that had been gathered, with a full crinoline beneath.  It rustled when she walked. I can smell her perfume.  Ma Griffe. She always wore it when they were going out. She had fallen in love with it when they lived in Germany. I was so blessed to be able to buy her a bottle in later years. 

I can see my sister in her face and parts of my nieces Crystal and Maggie, my sister's daughters. All beautiful women. I did not inherit any of my mother's looks unfortunately.

I love the starched lace doily on the coffee table holding a porcelain dog figurine.  The ashtrays.  

Mom liked to have her photograph taken when she was ready to go out.(Unlike me who hates to have my picture taken.) And she always wanted her picture taken the night before her birthday . . . She wanted to capture the younger year before the age of the older year caught up with her.




This is a photograph of my very young father holding me as a baby. You cannot really see my face, but I love the look on my father's face. He looks very handsome and proud. I can remember mom telling me one time that she had never really wanted to have children, but our father did and so she had us to please him. I think that this photograph must have been taken in Lawrencetown at our grandparent's home. I recognize the big elms that are no longer there. They were taken down when Dutch Elm disease ravaged all of the elm trees in Nova Scotia. Dad was so slim and young in this photograph and I think I can see him wearing his wedding band, something I do not remember him ever wearing in later years.


 

I cooked Eileen and I a ham dinner yesterday.  It was a pajama day for us both. Oh yes, we were so lazy neither one of us got dressed all day.  It was a very full day. Full of happenings.  

I wanted to bake us a cake for the weekend and decided to bake a Lazy Daisy Cake. I needed to refill my sugar jar though. I knew I had a bag of sugar in the bathroom closet so went to get it out and a glass jar of pesto fell out and shattered on the ceramic floor.

Oh boy.

I think the only thing that might be worse would be to drop a jar of honey and have it shatter. 

Oily pesto and shattered glass. It took me quite some time to clean that mess up. I got there in the end, and the cake did get baked. But the sugar wasn't in that closet. It was on a shelf in the spare room.

Then once the cake was in the oven and baking, there was a large commotion outside. I could hear sirens. I said to Eileen, "Somebody is having a really bad day." And then we noticed that a fire truck was rolling down our street, lights flashing.  It stopped two doors down to the left of me. 

That was quite a lot of excitement for this street. We are used to ambulances visiting from time to time, but this was the first fire truck I have seen. 

They were not there for very long and did not pull out the hose, so I suspect it was not a serious fire, perhaps just a stove fire. I would like to call Sheila next door to ask, because I know that if anyone would know what was going on, she would, but I don't want to seem like a nosy parker. I am just grateful it wasn't anything serious.

Then I finished getting our dinner ready and Cindy arrived.  She messaged me from the car to shut my bedroom doors so she could see the cats. They always disappear when she comes in (not wanting their nails clipped). She had been up the mountain and picked me up a fresh loaf of Oatmeal Brown bread from the chicken farm. She had also bought some carrot cake cookies and two of them had Eileen's and my names on them.

We only had time for a short visit as she had to pick up Dad at Tim Horton's and bring him home.  But it was so nice to see her.  I remember when I lived in the U.K. I used to dream of living in a place where family could just drop by.  Dreams do come true. I am living proof of that fact.


 

This weekend is the Spring General Conference of my church.  There will be two, two hour sessions, today and two tomorrow.  I am really looking forward to hearing the talks. I always get so much from them. Earlier this week it was announced that they were changing the Sunday School/Relief Society format on Sundays.  Usually we had a one hour Sacrament meeting, followed by an hour fr either Sunday School, or Priesthood/Relief Society, alternating weeks for each.  Beginning in September the second hour will be 25 minutes of Sunday School and twenty five minutes of Priesthood/Relief Society with five minutes between each class to change over. People will really have to hustle and stop all of their chitchatting if they are to get to the classes on time.  I am sure there is a good reason for the change. Lessons will need to be greatly condensed. 

I also was told that, in Europe anyways, that all chapel entrances are now to be guarded by security guards during the meetings.  I am not sure if this is a reaction to the incidents earlier this year at chapels in the U.S. or not, but it seems highly likely that it is to safeguard the congregations. I cannot remember who told me this. It could just be a rumor.

In any case I am really looking forward to hearing all of the talks.




I was trying to remember yesterday how long I have been blogging.  I have been doing this in one way or another for a very long time now.  I think since about 2003'ish.  I started off on Micro-soft, I think it was called My Space, and then I hopped over to AOL Journals, where I stayed for quite a while (and made a LOT of friends) and then I ended up on Blogger.  In between times I tried out other platforms like WordPress, but in all honesty, I kept coming back to Blogger because to me, it was the easiest to use.  Or in other words, the most user-friendly.  Oh, and it was free, which was really important to me because I didn't then, and don't have now,  much money to play with.  Free is good. 

When I first started writing it was because I saw it as a form of communicating with family, but in a fun way, a way of keeping them up to date with the things that were going on in my life.  It became so much more than that however.  In fact, for the most part, my family wasn't, and isn't interested in reading my blog, fair enough . . .  but it wasn't long before I discovered that other people were, and that there were other people out there doing the same thing that I was.  Really interesting people. People I made connections with and loved reading back.  That was the best thing about blogging, those connections I made with other people.  It is like a huge network of Pen pals, except that the communication is pretty much instant, or at least as often as the others choose to post, comment, etc. 

I confess I am often a bit slow with regards to responding to comments. I am trying to get better at it. I do read them all and appreciate that and I need to respond in a more timely manner.


 
No One Cares What You Had For Lunch

I guess I had been blogging for a few years, and was still trying to find my niche when I stumbled onto this book by Margaret Mason, and so . . .  I bought it.  Turns out she was wronglots of people cared about what I had for lunch . . .  and breakfast, and dinner for that matter!!  It didn't take long for me to discover that when I wrote about what I was cooking and eating, even more people were interested in what I had to say, so . . . .  for years and years and years, I combined the two things . . .  my daily thoughts with my daily eats.  After a while though, I wanted to separate the two and I decided to write a food blog.  The English Kitchen wasn't the first one.  Marie Eats Britain was the first one, but then I decided to create The English Kitchen and I got rid of the first one and stuck with the latter.  I've been doing that one for about 16 years or so now and I love it.  Its had several transformations, but I am pretty happy with where its at now. 

This blog has had several transformations also.  It began as A Year From Oak Cottage and was hugely popular as that, but once I left the Manor, and was no longer living in the cottage I decided to switch it to this, and this incarnation is where I have stayed.   This is home.  This, to me, is like sitting down with a good friend and just chatting about whatever comes up.  

And I am still amazed that anyone comes to
read this prattle at all, but I am
also very grateful that
they do.




We get to hang out together.  You is my "crew."  I care about you all, I really do.  You are very much an important part of my life, integral really.  I'm not sure how long I will do this . . .  this penning down of my daily thoughts and eats.  I suppose for as long as I have the breath and the will and the desire in me to do so.   But one day it will stop, and that thought kind of makes me sad in a way, and I find myself wondering . . . will any of the words I have penned live on?  Or will they eventually disappear too, and when I think about that, I panic a tiny bit, because there is still a huge part of me that hopes that one day my kids will want to know my thoughts, or my grandkids . . . . and if this disappears, then there is nothing tangible left . . .  and then I think to myself, I shoulda put it into a book, but its kind of late now. 
 



I have a life which is filled with abundance and beauty.  I have been blessed with the ability to bloom . . .  even in the cracks of life.  Others are not so lucky. I am able to see a crack in the sidewalk of my life as an opportunity for growth. This is a great blessing. May it ever be thus  . . . 

A thought to carry with you  . . . 

☾ ° ° * 。  
• ˚ ˚ ˛ ˚ ˛ • •。★★ 。* 。
° 。 ° ˛˚˛ * _Π_____*。*˚
˚ ˛ •˛•˚ */______/~\。˚ ˚ ˛
˚ ˛ •˛• ˚ | 田田 |門 ★
*When the Japanese mend broken objects,
they aggrandize the damage by
filling the cracks with gold, because
they believe that when something has
suffered damage, and has a history,
it becomes more beautiful•。★★ 。* 。


Air Fryer Honey & Lime Ham Steaks

 

In The English Kitchen today, Air Fryer Lime & Honey Ham Steaks for two.  These were delicious. I highly recommend! They could also be done in a skillet or an oven as well I believe.

Have a beautiful weekend. Happy Easter. Be happy. Be blessed. I hope your weekend is filled with enough of all you need and want. Don't forget!

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And I do too!