Yada yada yada . . .

 

I love piano music so very much. I think next to the violin, the piano is my favourite instrument to listen to.   I never tire of it.   When I was a child I would have loved to have been able to take piano lessons . . . my parents would never have had any problems getting me to practice.  Alas . . . my parent's budget did not lend itself to pianos or music lessons. 

I'm quite sure I would have been a wonderful pianist!   But we will never know . . . I did get to learn how to play the clarinet and I got quite good at that.   My father was able to borrow one from the Station Band for me to use, so I was very lucky there.   But . . . pianos were a lot harder to come by I guess.  I did have a little toy tinkly one I drove my parents mad with when I was really small .  .  . 

I had a friend who had a real almost life sized toy piano when I was in Grade 4.  She wasn't a very nice person actually . . . but I played with her from time to time so I could play on her piano, which wasn't very nice of me either was it . . . She also wore braces which I wanted too . . . it's funny the things you wish for when you're a child isn't it???   Or maybe I was just a really weird kid???   Please tell me I wasn't alone in the oddity of my desires???  

  

 There was a piano in the back room of our home down in Brenchley that had sat there for years and years . . . I was trying to teach myself to play on it while we were there, but I did not get very far with it.  I lacked the time necessary to really practice.  Now I have all the time in the world, but . . . no piano.

Life is like that sometimes.  Just wasn't meant to be  . . . 

 

 

One of my favourite pianists is Paul Cardall.  If you click on his name it will open up one of my favourite pieces of his music.  His music takes me away to another place. Its just so peaceful and relaxing. Love of music, that is one of the gifts my father gave me. So grateful for that.   

 

 I took this photo of Mitzie yesterday . . . she was lolling about on the sofa, being cuddly and adorable.   I love to bury my nose in her belly and sniff her paws.  They smell like popcorn.  I am not sure why that is.  She is getting all shaggy, well overdue a grooming. The groomers have not been open. She is starting to really mind the heat.  I have an appointment for her with a mobile groomer, but the only one I could get was not until the middle of July.  We have given her baths/showers, which are achieved with a nice piece of string cheese and a hand held shower nozzle. 

She's an odd dog. When Todd is trying to water the garden she spends the whole time barking and trying to get in the hose spray, catch it, drink it, etc. But then when it comes to a bath, she's like no way!  

We had a Beagle named Penny when I was a child. My mother got her for my brother because she though a boy should have a dog.  Penny was my dog.  I slept with her every night, or should I say she slept with me. I loved her so much.  She had copper coloured ears. My mother had us give her a bath every Saturday afternoon, down in the twin tubs in the basement.  She never minded going down to the basement, but come bath time . . . she would hide.

What is it with dogs and baths??? 

Penny was my best friend. I could tell her everything and know she'd never tell anyone else.   It is the same with Mitzie.  She is a great keeper of secrets as well . . . who do you tell your secrets to???  

  

I read a beautiful piece about the Partaking of the Sacrament this week that I wanted to share with you all.  I also wanted to bookmark it here so that I never lose it. This person's thoughts on it are so profound and mirror so much my own, although they have put it into words far better than I ever could. I love this opportunity I have each Sunday to connect with my Heavenly Father and Jesus Christ in this special way.  I am so grateful that even though at the moment we unable to go church, we can still partake of this beautiful ordinance in our homes through the presence of a priesthood holder  . . . 

  

 Sometimes I look at pictures like this . . . and my mind goes wandering down the path . . . exploring, wondering . . . imagining what I might find at the end of it.  I can hear the birds chattering back and forth to each other in the tops of the trees . . . and the distant hammering of a woodpecker, echoing across the wood.   I feel the crunch of last years dry leaves beneath my feet . . . and the air is filled with the scent of a million woodland blossoms . . . a dark green smell, mysteriously alluring.   I imagine that the fairies are close by, flitting here and flitting there amidst the shadows . . . perhaps twittering lightly to themselves about the path my thoughts are taking . . . a rustle of leaf, or whispered breath of air past my ear my only clues to their presence . . .  

 

 Would I find enchantment at the end of my walk??  I like to think that I would . . . 

A thought to carry with you  . . . 

° * 。 • ˚ ˚ ˛ ˚ ˛ •
•。★★ 。* 。
° 。 ° ˛˚˛ * _Π_____*。*˚
˚ ˛ •˛•˚ */______/~＼。˚ ˚ ˛
˚ ˛ •˛• ˚ ｜ 田田 ｜門 ★
 *"Poetry is the silence and speech
between a wet struggling root of a flower
and a sunlit blossom of that flower."
~Carl Sandburg •。★★ 。* 。 

 

In The English Kitchen today . . .  Small Batch Amish Sugar Cookies  . . .  for the smaller family.  

I hope you have a beautiful day today  . . .  no matter what you get up to.  Don't forget! 

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And I do too!