I love to step inside the door
And get that first whiff of a store
Of spice and perfumes rich and rare,
That seems to hang upon the air
Like incense from a sacred bowl
Soothing a poor sin-burdened soul.
The scent of lavender that fills
The store like early daffodils;
Pine scented soap in little bars,
Complexion cream in dainty jars,
As fragrant as a spring bouquet
Fresher than Violets in May.
From a tall shelf you get a whiff
Of sun-dried grasses on a cliff,
Above a sea where salt and brine
Are all mixed up with sun warmed pine;
And from a satin trimmed sachet
The perfume of a summer day.
The pungent odor of ground spice
Bergamot . . . ginger . . . camphor ice,
Lavender . . . lilac . . . sandalwood,
Perfumes from gardens . . . field and wood,
Rushing to meet me at the door
When I go to the corner store.
~Edna Jacques, Drug Store Smells
The Golden Road, 1953
Oh, I could so identify with these words. I remember the way going into those old shops felt and smelled back in the day. The way the old wooden floorboards creaked beneath your footsteps. When we came back from living in Germany in 1960, my father was posted to Gimli, Manitoba and there was an old-fashioned drugstore right on the corner of a street right down by the lakefront/pier. Walking into that store was like walking into Alladin's cave. It was loaded with treasures. I loved to go in there with my saved-up pennies and just peruse all that was on offer. I once bought a big plastic piggy bank that looked like a North American Indian, complete with feather. Another time it was a fountain pen and a bottle of ink. Still yet another time, a wooden pencil case with a slatted roll out top that was painted in a pretty picture.
The drug store in my grandmother's town, Merry's Drugstore in Lawrencetown, NS was another treat, with much the same treasures, except at Christmas when they opened all of the upper floor as a Toy Land. Oh, what a treat it was to go up the stairs and look at all the toys that we had only ever seen in catalogues or on our grainy pictured black and white television. Plus, they had a soda fountain where you could sit on a stool and enjoy a cold drink or an ice cream.
There is a nice drug store in our town here. It may not have old wooden floors that creak, but it is an Aladin's cave of gifts and other things, besides the normal things you would expect to find in such a place like medicines and creams. You can get a lovely pair of slippers, or a pretty shawl, earrings, cards, lawn decorations, etc. It is a lovely place to pick up a card and a gift for a special occasion. They also have an area where you can get a loaf of bread, a chiller cabinet and freezer cabinet and all sorts. It doesn't quite have the same heart that these old shops had back in the day, but it is still a fine place to go. I doubt many children save up their pennies to go there nowadays, however, as the dollar store is right across the street and is a much more affordable place to pick up a trinket or two.
What a friendly looking room this is. So warm and inviting. I can just imagine sitting in one of those chairs with a good book to read and my feet propped up on that footstool. That mirror on the wall is beautiful as well . . . with little birds sitting on the intertwined branches. How very lovely. I had a sofa once upon a time with the same printed fabric as that footstool. It was in our good living room in the house we built in New Brunswick, along with two plum colored wing chairs. Oh, how I loved that room. I had crisscrossed ruffled sheers on the window just like June Cleavers
Everything about that house brought me joy. I think of all the years of my life in bringing up my children, those few years were my happiest. My husband was not there; he was away in Bosnia serving with the U.N. There were just the children and me. My best friend lived across the street from me. We did craft sales together and school lunches three times a week. All my babies were still living at home. Like a mother hen I had them safely gathered in beneath my wings.
It was a happy, contented time. Probably the most stable of all the years I was married to that man. I could have stayed like that forever. But, alas, it didn't last. Change is always inevitable. That is the nature of these beautiful lives we are living.
We had snow during the night and it is laying on the ground. Very chilly out there this morning, it is. The temperature is -1*C/31*F. My weather ap says it feels much colder. -13*C/8.6*F so very chilly indeed. They have forecast snow or snowy showers for most of next week. I don't know that any of it will stick. It is a bit too early to be dreaming of a White Christmas.
But that would be lovely. I have not had one of those in many, many years.
It is hard to believe that we are already at the end of November with December sitting on our doorsteps. Only two more days, counting today. By December people here in the valley have really begun to dig in for the winter. Wood is stacked high in the sheds, while cabbages and potatoes are trapped in the cold cellars. Squash and apples too. Pantry shelves are lined with jewel-like jars of preserves, fruits and veggies.
In the old days people would have banked their homes with evergreen branches to insulate against the coming cold. Modern times don't need such protection, except maybe in the really old homes. Our heating systems are so much better than they were back in the day.
In farmyards the breath of the cows rises like smoke in the morning air. I said to Cindy in the car the other day, at this time of year I am happy I am not a cow or a bird. I have someplace warm and dry in which to nestle and I am a lucky one. Not all are so blessed.
There is a peculiar sense of satisfaction to country living in the winter months, that sense of being snuggled down against the weather must be an old feeling we inherit from our forefathers. Let the snow fall and the wind howl. We are safe and secure. There is a deep joy to be found in the conflict with nature's worst hours, probably because we feel the glory of surviving no matter how hard the winds blow or how high the snow piles up, or when a long drought sets in and water is as precious as a diamond drop.
It is good to think about the simple bravery of plain ordinary folk and their ability to rise above the worst that life and nature throw at us.
All through the town and village, fairy lights appear at this time of year. They festoon the bushes and line the roof tops, and drape upon bare branches like pearls. Night comes early now . . . it is getting dark by late afternoon, and the warmth of the sight of such pearls cheers the heart like nothing else.
Fairy lights, candlelight, the warm glow of the hearth with logs crackling and snapping as we bask in the warmth of the flickering flames. It's all so soul enriching. There is a channel on the television which is just a fireplace. I am sure you know it. I have it on often during December. It is odd how just the sight of it warms the bones. Add to that the sound of the snap, crackle and pop of the logs . . . the mind is so suggestable. It doesn't have to be real to be enjoyed. Just the promised whisper of the reality is often enough to light up the soul.
Dad has settled back in very well at home. He had his eye appointment yesterday and Cindy was taking him to the Big Scoop for his breakfast this morning. He is back to the old routine. I am sure he is feeling better now than he has done for ages. The blood infusion has done him the world of good. He had probably been bleeding internally for a while, with nobody really knowing. It is no wonder he had been feeling so poorly and tired and lacking in energy for much of anything. It was amazing how much better he was almost immediately afterwards. So perked up and energized. It warms my heart to see him feeling so much healthier. He was quite ready to die and said to us several times he thought he was on his last legs. I am so grateful for his recovery. Thank you so much for all of your prayers on his behalf. Prayer is the greatest gift you can give another.
I think I will get myself a few more bird feeders to hang out the front for the cats to enjoy watching. I had allowed myself to be talked into getting rid of all of mine because the old lady down the end of the road said they attracted rats and I did see a rat out there one morning. But it seems a shame to make the birds suffer and do without because of a few rats. So long as the feeders are up high and away from the house, I cannot see the harm.
Sometimes I will put on cat television for them so that they can watch squirrels, etc. coming to feeders and hear the tut tutting of the birds and other creatures. They are interested in it for a short, but then I think they seem to sense that it is not real and they abandon it.
They do not seem to play like they did when they were younger. Their toys don't really amuse them anymore. I sometimes worry that they might be bored, but it doesn't matter what I bring in for them to play with, their interest soon has waned. Perhaps it is just their age.
And with that I will leave you with a thought to carry with you over the weekend . . .
☾ ° ★° * 。
• ˚ ˚ ˛ ˚ ˛ • •。★★ 。* 。° 。 ° ˛˚˛ * _Π_____*。*˚˚ ˛ •˛•˚ */______/~＼。˚ ˚ ˛˚ ˛ •˛• ˚ ｜ 田田 ｜門 ★*"Don't wait for
everything to be perfect
before you decide to
enjoy your life.
~Joyce Meyer• ˚ ˚ ˛ ˚ ˛ • •。★★ 。*
• ˚ ˚ ˛ ˚ ˛ • •。★★ 。*
In the kitchen today, "Cup of Tea" Teacake. Tender, lightly spiced and sprinkled with a kiss of brown sugar on top! This is the perfect weekend cake!
I hope you have a lovely weekend. Stay safe, be warm, be blessed. Whatever you get up to I hope that it brings you joy. Don't forget!
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And I do too!
