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I think of mother when I see
Tall chestnut candles on a tree,
My mother always kept a light,
For us when we were out at night.
I think of her when roses shed,
Their petals on a flower bed,
Like silken dresses spread to dry,
Beneath a breathless summer sky.
The smell of new bread makes me see
The old farm house that used o be,
A place where laughter, joy and tears,
Journeyed together down the years.
White Christmas days . . . star studded nights,
The heavens filled with Northern Lights,
Warm evenings in the summer time,
An old brass cowbell's homely chime.
I think of her and all she meant,
The grace and kindliness she lent,
To every common household chore;
Her welcome ever at the door,
I am so rich in memories
Of ordinary things like these.
A loaf of bread . . . a porch light on,
An old dog sleeping on the lawn.
~Edna Jacques, I Think of Mother
Fireside Poems, 1950
This was my mother's favorite poem in the book of Fireside Poems. She said it made her think of her own mother, and the old farm house that she was born in and spent her younger years in. I have to say it is one of my favorite Edna Jacques poems as well, if only because it makes me think of my own mother, and her mother before . . . This is the book of poems I grew up with sitting in our bookcase of books in the living room. I read it often when I was growing up, and it is the book of poems my mother gave to me when I left to live out West. Probably because she knew I loved it, maybe even more than she did. I have always been a lover of words and poetry it seems . . . and memories sweet.
Words strung together often cause me to visit the past in my mind, paint pictures of days gone by, evoke sweet memories of family and home . . . of my love for all familial things.
So many of Edna's poetry speaks to my heart. I could not really pick out a true favorite, but this one comes close and it is because of my mother. I will always miss her.
As the oldest of my siblings and I, I have special memories of my parents that they don't have. After all I had them all to myself for three full years before they came along to spoil my fun. I think I was probably quite spoiled for attention up to that point. I know my nose was quite out of joint when our mother brought my sister home from the hospital. I wanted her to take the baby back. It was only when mom explained that she would have to back with the baby as the baby needed her to take care of it that I relented and decided the baby could stay.
And she (the baby, my sister) has been my best friend ever since.
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Speaking of my best friend, we ended up going up the mountain to the egg farm yesterday morning. We did not take dad out with his friend Maryann as dad wasn't feeling very good yesterday. Apparently his iron is low. My sister made an appointment with him for the Doctor in the afternoon. So we went to the egg farm in the morning, and got eggs and a few other bits. Then I went with them to Dad's Doctor in the afternoon.
I think, even though his sight is not all that great these days, Dad enjoys these little jaunts in the car. As we travel up the valley he often mentions having been in this house or that, having danced here or danced there. I said to him yesterday that he had danced his way all through the valley and that made him laugh a bit. But, it's true. Dad was always a man who loved to dance with a pretty girl and he often made his way to the different dance halls all through the valley when he was a young man, before he met our mother. Indeed every Saturday night when we were growing up he and mom went Dancing, and often on Friday night as well. It was a really big deal for them.
He was a dancing man who found a dancing woman and they danced together for many years. He just liked the girls too much with his wandering eyes, or they would have been together forever I think. He will still tell you that she was the best wife he could have had, and if he was ever capable of loving just one woman, he did love and does love her, and I know she never stopped loving him, even if she felt him a fool.
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With all the rain we have had, I have toadstools growing here and there on the lawn, even in the brown wood shavings that we filled the flower garden in with. Bird seed has sprouted there as well, so I must get out and pick it all out.
When I was a child I would be filled with glee if I came across a toadstool growing. I felt as if I had found a magical spot for fairies and if I stayed there long enough, hidden behind a tree, they would come out and dance around the toadstool for me to see. They never did. I was not patient enough to stay long enough to see it.
I cut my teeth on Enid Blyton's fairy books. I used to devour them. I believed in Fairies, and all their charming and sometimes wicked ways. I have always been a dreamer and I suppose I still am in many ways. So my heart still skips a beat when I see a lone toadstool or even a small cluster . . . I am still waiting for the fairies to appear.
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A few weeks ago I got myself a small jar of creamed honey. I do so love honey, but I hardly ever eat it, as much as I long to indulge. I think creamed honey is my favorite. When I first moved over to the U.K. I discovered Greek honey. I am sure there are many kinds but the one I used to buy had almost the flavor of resin to it . . . maybe even an almost anise like flavor. I remember bringing a jar of it back for my father once (he loves honey too) so that he could enjoy it. I remember bringing him that and a big block of a good British cheddar.
He used to say he was going to come over and visit me there, but he never did. I would have loved it if he had of done. Mom too, but after 9/11 she wasn't flying anywhere if she could help it. I know a lot of people stopped flying after that.
I can't say that I wasn't nervous flying after that, but if I wanted to see my family at all I had to fly and so I did. But, now I am here, I won't be flying again. I have lost my wanderlust and am quite content to just stay here.
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I have to say I enjoyed the birthday afternoon earlier this week. It was nice to get to know my neighbors a bit better. I loved watching Molly make the tea. She had an old tin kettle which she had boiling away and a huge tea pot, which, once she made the tea, she kept warm over a low heat. A small jug of milk on the table for the ladies to pour into their cups.
I have to say I also loved the old fashioned names of the ladies . . . Molly, Rose, Judy, Jeanette, Carole (with an e) . . . Glenna, and Zillah from next door, of course. And I loved their company.
Zillah is the cake maker. She always makes the birthday cakes from what I have observed. In any case it was nice to be included. They have probably been doing this for a long time. I first noticed them when I went to drop off Sheila's Birthday Card to her on her Birthday, and it just happened to be one of their get-togethers. I was quickly invited in, but I didn't stay as I didn't want them to think I was inviting myself. In any case, they invited me to the next one and this last one as well. Apparently there is a Birthday list, which I would like to get a copy of. So I am prepared with cards.
Maybe I should just buy a few cards next time I am near a place that sells cards just to have a few in the house. Just in case. It never hurts to be prepared.
Every fine day, throughout the summer, she sat there 'watching the bees.' She was combining duty and pleasure, for, if they swarmed, she was making sure of not losing the swarm; and if they did not, it was still, as she said, 'a trate' to sit there, feeling the warmth of the sun, smelling the flowers, and watching 'the craturs' go in and out of the hives.
~Flora Thompson, from Lark Rise (1939
I was sitting on my front porch waiting for my sister to get here yesterday afternoon when a grasshopper brushed against my head. I didn't half move quickly to brush it away. I was not sure at first if it was a grasshopper or a wasp. I am not a fan of either one. I do like to watch bees however. Such industrious little creatures. Over in the U.K. you knew Spring had arrived once the big fat bumble bees came out of their Winter dens and started dancing over the blooming crocus. Here the robin is the harbinger of Sprig, but there it was the bumble bees. I have always loved the fat ones . . . it seems a miracle that they even get off the ground, but they somehow do . . . all a part of the beauty and mystery of the natural world.
On a side note, I still love the series Lark Rise to Candleford. Perhaps it is time to revisit it.
Eileen is looking forward to me picking her up this afternoon, and I am looking forward to having her. She will be here Saturday, Sunday and Monday until late Tuesday. She has her biopsy on Monday as you know and as she is being anesthetized she will need watching for 24 hours. I am hoping and praying all goes well. We will be one step closer to having this taken care of.
She is bringing the film "Meet Me in Saint Louis" with her. A favorite of both of us. I am looking forward to seeing it. I will pick another film for us to watch as well.
Maybe we will bake some cookies or something. We will see. Its just nice spending the time together. But you are tired of hearing that I am sure.
And with that I will leave you with a thought for the day . . .
☾ ° ★° * 。
• ˚ ˚ ˛ ˚ ˛ • •。★★ 。* 。° 。 ° ˛˚˛ * _Π_____*。*˚
˚ ˛ •˛•˚ */______/~＼。˚ ˚ ˛
˚ ˛ •˛• ˚ ｜ 田田 ｜門 ★
*Just living is not enough,
one must have sunshine, freedom
and a little flower.
From my desk calendar this morning . . .
In The English Kitchen this morning, Small Batch Butter Swim Biscuits. The recipe makes only four, butter crusted delicious biscuits. Really quick and easy to make as well. I'd call these a winner, winner!
I hope that you have a lovely weekend. Whatever you get up to I hope it brings you joy. Be happy. Don't forget!
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And I do too!
