Oh, make my soul a many windowed place,
Catching the sun from morning until night,
That I may see the glory of the dawn
And in the evening, stars of splendid light.
Oh, keep my heart alive to wind and rain,
My soul attuned to happiness and pain.
Oh, make my heart a mirror to reflect
A thousand images that break and pass,
Like dormer windows facing on the street
Catching small happenings upon the glass.
Oh, may I ever keep myself aware
Of clouds of glory that plain people wear.
And may I see, beyond a tired face,
The heart of the immortal shining through;
Dreams lovely as the day, hope's tender wings,
Brooding above the things that people do'
Fathers and mothers planning in advance
To give their little son his precious chance.
Oh, may I keep the mirror of my heart
Untarnished by the sorrow of the world,
To voice the wonder of a common life:
Smoke from a cottage chimney curled
Above a little yard where glory lies
In the bright splendor of plain people's lives.
~Edna Jacques, Oh, Make My Soul
Back-Door Neighbors, 1946
Oh, how this spoke to my heart this morning. To live every day to the fullest and to find joy in simple things. To always be aware of the feelings, hopes and dreams of others, whilst still carrying my own. Life, it's such a beautiful thing. The ups and the downs and ins and outs the sunshine and the rain. There is a lot of sadness, and a lot of mean-spiritedness about, but there is so much more joy and love. The negative voices shout louder is all. I am training myself not to hear the loudness, and to listen only to the still small things. Admittedly some days are much easier than others, but bit by bit the loud is being drowned out by the small and silent. That is the secret to a joy-filled life. When the still small voice of the heart speaks louder than the roar of the world.
Someone asked yesterday why did I not keep Eileen with me forever, and just get a larger place. The answer is simple. I will not live forever, nor will her father. It is important that she establish a life for herself separate from us so that when the inevitable happens she will be okay. She belongs to a support program called the CSS. She has specialized workers who are there to help and guide her in every aspect of her life, budgeting, etc. You cannot be a part of the program if you live with your parents. There is a very long waiting list for the program. I, for one, am very grateful for it because I know that she will always have the help she needs, aside from what her father and I can do while we are still alive. She does have siblings, but the ones who stay in contact with her regularly live far away and the other two, well . . . she has not heard from them or seen them in years. Its a shame really, but you cannot force people to care.
Having her with me permanently would be lovely, but it would be selfish. But I will keep her here with me so long as she needs me to get her through this latest trial. And once she has gotten through it and healed, I will help her to get settled into her new place and started on her new life.
I started to pick up a few small things for her yesterday. We are going to have fun making a list over these next weeks of things she needs and then ticking off the boxes as we acquire them, in between all the other stuff that is going on. Still have not heard anything as to when things will progress, but suspect that when we do, things will go swiftly. Your prayers and happy thoughts, as always, are very much appreciated.
I have a joy box. I've always had a joy box. It is a small box that is filled with small mementos and things which bring me joy. A pretty handkerchief, a polished stone, an old watch, my missionary tags, etc. Nothing really of any value, just small things and reminders of things which in my lifetime have brought me joy. I am lucky to have any of them to be honest and am grateful for the forethought I had to bring them with me.
I suppose it is similar to a North American Native's medicine bag. (I have one of those as well.) It is considered to be a very precious possession representing a person's spiritual life, filled with small tokens and remembrances which are considered holy and meant to be kept secret by it's owner.
Most of what I have would mean nothing to anyone else, but when I look at them and hold them in my hands I am filled with remembrance and joy.
A Joy Box, as Martha would say, is a good thing.
It was lovely to note all of the lovely May Blossom in bloom up and down the roads in our area yesterday as we were traveling. It will soon be apple blossoms. That was always a really big deal in the Valley. Apple Blossom season. It was marked by a huge festival at the end of the month of May. The Apple Blossom Festival. The early weeks of May, in the run up to it were marked by teas and events run in all of the small towns, etc. of the valley. A Princess was picked by every town. A Queen would be chosen to reign at the Apple Blossom Festival from all of the local princesses. This usually happened at a ball at the end of the festival. It was considered a big honor and she would reign until the following year when she would crown the next Queen Annapolisa. The whole week would be marked by street parades and other festivities. It was a really big deal.
Cindy and I were saying yesterday in the car that we never hear anything about it anymore so I decided to look it up and see what's happening with it. There is still an Apple Blossom Festival, but it mainly seems to involve some of the larger communities up the way, ie. Coldbrook, Kentville and New Minas. There are no Princesses or Queens, just a thing called Passions that Bloom, which invites youth between to participate.
“We are incredibly proud to offer a space where youth from across the Annapolis Valley can showcase their talents, passions, and future goals while building confidence, leadership skills, and meaningful community connections.”
I had not heard of this. I can see where there are 14 finalists. I am not sure how they were chosen. There is a concert, a teen dance, a bingo, a street parade, a car show, food truck party, children's parade, paint nights, kids carnival and tractor pull, etc. but I think it is all being held in Kentville.
Its a shame that it hasn't been promoted more, but maybe I am just not clued in.
It seems to be only a patch on what was once a very highly anticipated event here in the Annapolis Valley and, had I not looked it up, I wouldn't have even known it was happening. I think that's really weird. It used to be hosted by a different community each year. My oldest son was born Apple Blossom Weekend and the mayor of the town that was hosting it that year was my Doctor. I remember him being really annoyed because he had things to do as the Mayor and I was interfering with his plans. It was a most unpleasant experience with me from beginning to end. The only plus was the birth of my son. Hard to believe he will be 51 this year! My but the years have flown by!
Oh how I long to have some time each day to practice my art or sewing, etc. It seems a very long time since I have done anything of that ilk. Its a shame really. I used to spend a good part of most days being creative. I managed to cook, write two blogs, and still create. I don't know why I cannot manage to do it all now??? Mismanagement of time is all that I can think of.
I need to fix that.
"When we were in the woods beyond Gowbarrow Park we saw a few daffodils close to the water-side. We fancied that the lake had floated the seeds ashore, and that the little colony had so sprung up. But as we went along there were more and yet more; and at last, under the boughs of the trees, we saw that there was a long belt of them along the shore, about the breadth of a country turnpike road. I never saw daffodils so beautiful. They grew among the mossy stones about and about them; some rested their heads upon these stones as on a pillow for weariness; and the rest tossed and reeled and danced, and seemed as if they verily laughed with the wind that blew upon them over the lake; they looked so gay, ever glancing, every changing. This wind blew directly over the lake to them. There was here and there, a little knot, and a few stragglers a few yards higher up; but they were so few as to not disturb the simplicity, unity and life of that busy highway.
~Dorothy Wordsworth, Thursday 15 April, 1802
We often hear about the poem by William Wordsworth, I wandered lonely as a cloud, but I had never read these words written in her Grasmere journal by his sister Dorothy. Clearly he was not the only one who had a brilliant way with words. I was to visit their cottage, Dove Cottage, that they rented in Grasmere in the Lake District one year when we were up there on holiday. It was quaint and quite interesting. Cumbria is filled with places associated with William Wordsworth. There is his birth home in Cockermouth, and the grammar school he went to in Hawkshead where you can still see his initials carved into the top of his school desk.
Had he been alone, Wordsworth would probably have wandered by the daffodils in a dreamy abstraction of thought and missed the moment, but luck would have it that his sister was with him, and no beauty . . . however fleeting . . . ever escaped the quick eyes of Dorothy, his sister who walked with him. It was Dorothy who made those daffodils dance for William . . . and it was William who made them dance for the world.
Dorothy was an unsung member of a group of poets that were known as the "Bards of the Lake," the practitioners of Romantic poetry whose principle members included Wordsworth, Simon Coleridge and Robert Southey in the early 19th century. Most of Dorothy's work, which consisted mainly of journals, letters and poems, was not published until after her death.
How lucky are we to be living in an age where the work of women is not only valued, but promoted and celebrated right alongside the work of their male counterparts.
This is the Victoria Day weekend here in Nova Scotia. Monday is a bank holiday. A lot of people spend this weekend gardening. It's almost like the beginning of summer, although summer is a good way off and to be honest the temperatures are not all that warm yet. Cindy did say yesterday that we are supposed to have a day next week that is predicted to be rather hot and uncomfortable.
I noticed out the front window this morning that something has broken my bird feeder gouged two perches right out of it. I am not sure if I can fix it or not. I will have to go out and have a look and see. Hopefully I can. We have really been enjoying it these past days. We have had gold finches, blue capped blackbirds, red winged blackbirds, and even a wood pecker.. The cats have really been enjoying them as well. I think I need to get a nut feeder, but first . . . I need to fix this feeder.
I wish I had a BBQ. I don't. Its all about the weight of the gas bottle, etc. Last weekend Eileen and I could smell the fumes of someone's BBQ and it smelled so good. It really set our tastebuds to tingling.
I do have a countertop grill, however, and it does a nice job. I should get some chicken and grill it. I have an excellent marinade that I use which works very nicely. I am going to the shops this morning with Eileen and Cindy so that might be a plan!
I really haven't much else to say this morning and I have run out of time. Eileen will be up soon and I need to get ready to go out.
I will leave you with a thought for the day . . .
☾ ° ★° * 。
• ˚ ˚ ˛ ˚ ˛ • •。★★ 。* 。° 。 ° ˛˚˛ * _Π_____*。*˚˚ ˛ •˛•˚ */______/~＼。˚ ˚ ˛˚ ˛ •˛• ˚ ｜ 田田 ｜門 ★*The bad news is time flies.
The good news is, you're the pilot.
• ˚ ˚ ˛ ˚ ˛ • •。★★ 。* 。
In The English Kitchen today . . .
Lemon Raspberry French Toast. Two thick slices of French bread sandwiched together with a layer of lemony and honey cream cheese and fresh berries, soaked in a rich custard and baked in the oven until crispy edged and golden brown. Delicious.
I hope you have a beautiful weekend and that the sun is shining brilliantly where you are as it is here. Whatever you get up to I hope it brings you joy. Don't forget!
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And I do too!
