Saturday This and That . . .

 

Hooray for summer which arrived a few days ago. Summer, the pinnacle of the year . . .  all months lead up to it and away from it. Oh how we love, Love, LOVE Summertime!  The sun is not setting now until well after 10 pm and it is rising not too long after 4 am. Now the days will begin to shorten a tiny bit at a time, but we won't really notice it much until about August.

 

Roses, their velvet-hearted blooms unfold.

crimson and apricot, ivory and gold.

In stately grounds and in cottage beds.

In park and plot they lift their lovely heads. 

All of our roses are in bloom at the moment. We have reds, and yellows, pale pinks and the most beautiful apricot, almost blush coloured ones.  And they smell positively heavenly.  I noticed the last time Todd bought me some roses they had no smell at all . . . not so our garden roses, they are filled with fragrance!  These lovely blooms will keep us company now, right on up into the late autumn. Every year I say I am going to gather the petals and make my own rose water, and every year I don't. My heart cannot bear to tear the petals from the blooms . . . its almost like I am comitting the worst crime ever, destroying such a beautiful gift of nature . . . and so I don't.

 

There's nothing half so lovely as

to lean against a stile.

Lost in thoughts of sweet contentment,

resting for a while.

Breathing in the country air,

and listening for the birds.

Conscious of a peace of mind,

too deep for spoken words.

This is the perfect time of year for country rambles and picnics, so long as the sun shines, and this is the sun shiniest time of year. I remember once Todd and I were out driving and we had a picnic lunch with us and we came across a little country park tucked out of the way just  past Llangollen in Wales. We had followed the signs that said country park and we found ourselves in a bit of a wonderland. It was quite secluded and we were quite on our own.  Picnic tables had been provided and we sat there in a little copse . . .  surrounded by green . . . the birds were singing, and off in the distance we could hear the haunting whistle of the Llangollen steam train as it started on its journey. Not far from where we sat we could see a little stone church and after we had finished our picnic we walked down the lane to explore its stones. It was a blissful day and remains such a happy blissful memory in my mind.  These are the moments that make up a life.  

 

Delicate and beautiful

and vivid as the sunset skies.

A mass of sweetness,

like a cloud of pink and crimson butterflies.

Are they flowers, these moth-like

things with brightly tinted wings of flame?

Sweet peas, that is what they're called,

but can such beauty have a name? 

I think of all the garden flowers the sweet pea is my favourite one of all.  They grow in masses, and clusters, each bloom seemingly more beautiful than the rest.  Every tender petal does look like a winged thing, ready to fly off . . . you can almost hear the gentle flutters as they prepare to flit about the garden en masse.  I cannot pick a favourite colour. I love them all. If I was very rich and young and getting married . . .  I think my bouquet would be composed of sweet peas . . . creamy whites and gentle blushes . . . with pale green tendrils.   When the oldest daughter at the Big House got married, her wedding cake (s) were done by Peggy Porschen, the smaller ones being decorated with tiny little sugar sweet peas, which looked for all the world as real as to be actual sweet peas. They were soooo beautiful. Tiny works of art that you  hated to bit into. Not that I had the opportunity to bite into one, but I could imagine  . . . 

 

What is it saying that little stream as it goes babbling along?

Year in and out repeating itself with its monotonous song.

It never gets weary, or changes its tone,

or tries out some other refrain.

It just goes on singing the same little phrase,

over and over again . . . 

Todd and I have gone on many walks through the years, passing by some beautifully picturesque streams and rivers. I think one of my favourite walks is the one we took up in Betws-y-coed in Denbighshire, in Wales. It is about a 40 minute drive from us.  We spent a lovely day there a few years back exploring the countryside. It is a great place for amblers, hikers and walkers. We enjoyed the train museum, and exploring the "little church in the wood", which is what the actual name of the town means.  We enjoyed a hot drink in an Inn overlooking the river. It was so picturesque and quaint.  Later we ambled a bit further and at the village church they were having a rummage sale and we enjoyed poking through all the treasures on display . . .  a veritable collecter's paradise!  I don't think we bought a thing, but we did enjoy seeing all the wares.  Every where I go I get the same question, what part of America am I from.  I am always happy to say I am from Canada, the best part . . .  Nova Scotia, and the Maritimes. At one time I had a real Nova Scotia accent, but I have long since lost that now, sadly.  

 

 

I love an old street in an old-fashioned town,

a street that goes wandering uphill nd down.

A street that wakes echoes wherever you tread,

and quaint timbered gables lean over your head.

Where sunlight and shadow make patches of gold,

on bricks, tiles and cobblestones centuries old.

I love an old street where you see at a glance

glimpses of history, beauty, romance  . . .  

The whole time we lived down South, I longed to be back Chester . . . I love this beautiful city that I am blessed to live in.  Its not a city like London, or New York, or Toronto.  Its more like an over-grown town, but it is steeped in history, and in the summertime it is filled with tourists who come from all over the world to explore its cobbled streets, lined with white stucco and black timbered tudor buildings, to walk upon its Roman wall and explore its ancient cathedral, to picnic down by the River Dee . . .  it has so much to offer.  This year we are stay-cationing, which I guess is what we normally do most years now it seems, but it is not a hardship when you get to live in as beautiful a place as we do.  Summers in Chester are wonderful things  . . . with open air performances in Grosvenor Park, and Moonlit flicks, outdoor cinematic experiences. Every four years we have the Mystery Plays, and then there are the dragon boat races on the river.  This year I believe that Tom Jones will be performing in the open air at a Race Track concert, plus there are the Ghost tours, the museum, and a host of other things to do and experience.  For a summer stay-cation I can't think of anywhere better to be. 

  

What a lovely afternoon we had yesterday with our friends Tina and Tony. It was a bit chilly so I made a big pot of corn chowder for our lunch which we enjoyed with some crusty bread and for dessert, Strawberries from our garden and cream.  Afterwards we played a game of Scrabble, which Tony won, once again. He is the master at Scrabble. I don't think he has lost a game yet!  Time spent with good friends is never wasted.

 

One thing we will be enjoying, together and with friends, this summer will be this lovely Space Grill 3 Burner BBQ.  I have been asked to partner up with the company and they are sending me one of these to keep and use.  It looks like an amazing piece of kit. I can't wait for it to arrive!  It looks incredibly easy to use.  I hope our sunny golden weather continues.  I've already bought in the steaks!  But I hope to be cooking more than steaks on it as the season continues.  Hooray for summer time!  I am a lucky girl.

A thought to carry with you  . . . 

° * 。 • ˚ ˚ ˛ ˚ ˛ •
•。★★ 。* 。
° 。 ° ˛˚˛ * _Π_____*。*˚
˚ ˛ •˛•˚ */______/~＼。˚ ˚ ˛
˚ ˛ •˛• ˚ ｜ 田田 ｜門 ★
 *.˛Be a warrior,
not a worrier. •。★★ 。* 。 

  

In The English Kitchen today  . . . .  Blueberry, Lime & Coconut Friands.  Simply delicious.

Have a beautiful Saturday!  Don't forget along the way . . .

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And I do too!!