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Saturday, 29 August 2020

All Things Nice . . .

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Today I am flooding my page with all things that are nice, because in the light of what we have been going through in the year 2020 to date, we could all use a little bit of nice.  


Beauport Abbey is a charming abbey in northern Brittany, just a few kilometres from Paimpol and in the Cotes-d'Armor department. It is one of the most visited - and most impressive - abbeys in Brittany and an interesting example of the early use of gothic style architecture.

The abbey was originally founded here in the 13th century, in an imposing location overlooking Paimpol Bay and covering an area of almost 125 hectares (300 acres). It was an influential abbey that controlled extensive lands both in Brittany and in England (these were a gift to the founder of the abbey from William the Conqueror, because of his help in the conquering of England).

Stunning.


  


When music sounds, gone is the earth I know,
And all her lovely things even lovelier grow;
Her flowers in vision flame, her forest trees
Lift burdened branches, stilled with ecstasies.

When music sounds, out of the water rise
Naiads whose beauty dims my waking eyes,
Rapt in strange dreams burns each enchanted face,
With solemn echoing stirs their dwelling-place.

When music sounds, all that I was I am
Ere to this haunt of brooding dust I came;
And from Time’s woods break into distant song
The swift-winged hours, as I hasten along.
~Walter De La Mare Music


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 Oh human race, born to fly
upward, wherefore as a little
wind doth thou so fall?
~Dante Alighieri,  The Divine Comedy 


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 Robert Louis Stevenson said, 

"To be what we are, and to become 
what we are capable of becoming,  
is the only end of life." 

We are called to this earth to stretch ourselves, to embrace our talents, to embolden our strengths, to be productive and to create. To tap into our Divine potential and become the best that we can be. Life is a journey towards becoming.   Each of us is capable of achieving great things did we only allow ourselves to believe that we can.  



"What heaven can be more real than
to retain the spirit-world of childhood."
~Beatrix Potter   




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Life, believe is no a dream
So dark, as sages say;
Oft a little morning rain
Foretells a pleasant day.
~Charlotte Bronte 

Most famous for her passionate novel Jane Eyre (1847), Charlotte Brontë also published poems and three other novels.

She was the third of six children of Patrick Brontë, an Irish crofter’s son who rose via a Cambridge education to become, in 1820, a perpetual curate at Haworth, in Yorkshire. Charlotte was only five in 1821 when her mother Maria died. Four years later her two older sisters died as a result of the harsh conditions in the Clergy Daughters’ School at Cowan Bridge, Lancashire to which they and the eight-year-old Charlotte were sent in 1824. Charlotte’s experiences at the school influenced her portrayal of Lowood School in Jane Eyre. After the death of the two oldest Brontë daughters, Patrick and Maria’s sister Elizabeth gave the children a stimulating and wide-ranging education at home. Charlotte, her two younger sisters Anne and Emily Brontë, and their brilliant, unstable brother Branwell invented complex imaginary worlds, which they wrote about extensively in tiny homemade books – a fruitful literary apprenticeship. Aged 15, Charlotte enrolled at a new school not far from Haworth. Roe Head School was less harsh than the Clergy Daughters’ School, but Charlotte spent only 18 months there before returning home.

  
Charlotte Bronte by George Richmond

 As an adult, Charlotte worked as a governess and spent some years teaching at a boarding school in Brussels; her unrequited love for the school’s headmaster, informed her novels Villette (1853) and The Professor (published posthumously in 1857). It was the passion and rebellion of Jane Eyre (1847) that earned her fame, and when visiting London she moved in the best literary circles, befriended by Mrs Gaskell and Thackeray – the latter remembered ‘the trembling little frame, the little hand, the great honest eyes’. Shirley (1849), written during and after the tragic deaths of her three siblings within a single year, displayed Charlotte’s engagement with both women’s rights and radical workers’ movements.

In June 1854, she married her father’s curate Arthur Nicholls, who had long been a loyal suitor. She became pregnant but, severely weakened by morning sickness, died aged 38 on 31 March 1855.



 When my children were young and at home, making bread weekly was very much a part of our routine. I did not make the bread myself, but my husband did. He was a wonderful bread baker and very proud of this skill, and for good reason. His bread was lovely. He used to bake beautiful large double loaves that were light and fluffy and so very delicious.  Five or six loaves at a time.  The first loaf was always devoured with love by five hungry faces almost as soon as it came from the oven.  Spread with cold butter and jam or peanut butter.  Bread baking day was a favourite day in our home.
They did not mind taking sandwiches to school made with this bread, even if it was overly large and their sandwiches were not quite the same as their school mates.  They knew and appreciated that what they had in their little brown bags was a hundred times tastier.

Wheat Bread 

Dissolve two packages of dry yeast in 1/2 cup of water with
1/2 TBS of honey or sugar. Mix the follow ingredients (with
the dissolved yeast) in bread mixer:

3 1/2 cups warm water
1 1/2 cups dry powdered milk
1 cup oil
4 eggs, beaten
3/4 cup honey
2 TBS salt
1 or 2 cups of white flour
about 10 cups of whole wheat flour  

After kneading in a bread mixer, let rise until doubled.  Divide into six small
loaves. Knead and shape. Let rise in greased pans. Preheat oven to 400*F. Reduce 
to 300*F and bake 1 hour til golden brown and it sounds hollow when tapped. 



 

One, two, three
Four, five, six
Seven, eight, nine
Ten, eleven, twelve
Ladybugs
Came to the ladybugs' picnic

One, two, three
Four, five, six
Seven, eight, nine
Ten, eleven, twelve
And they all played games
At the ladybugs' picnic

They had twelve sacks,
so they ran sack races
They fell on their backs,
and they fell on their faces
The ladybugs twelve
At the ladybugs' picnic

They played jump rope,
but the rope - it broke
So they just sat around
telling knock-knock jokes
The ladybugs twelve
At the ladybugs' picnic

One, two, three
Four, five, six
Seven, eight, nine
Ten, eleven, twelve
And they chatted away
At the ladybugs' picnic

They talked about the
high price of furniture and rugs
And fire insurance for ladybugs
The ladybugs twelve
At the ladybugs' picnic
Twelve!
~Sesame Street, The Ladybug's Picnic

You're welcome!


“Then followed that beautiful season… Summer…. 
Filled was the air with a dreamy and magical light; 
and the landscape lay as if new created 
in all the freshness of childhood.”
~Henry Wadsworth Longfellow   


 
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 Being a mother at any age is a blessing, but as we age and our children become interesting and productive adults we really begin to savor the joys of the harvest, the fruit of our labours. How could we have known when they were young and the demands so constant that we would ever have the luxury of simply enjoying their loving companionship?
~Marjorie Pay Hinkley  



Wherever we are and whatever we are doing my wish for us
is that we enjoy to the fullest, this  . . .  the last real weekend
of summer, 2020. 
Its all about to change soon.
I can feel it in the cooler mornings and the darker nights.  

A thought to carry with you  . . . 




° * 。 • ˚ ˚ ˛ ˚ ˛ •
•。★★ 。* 。
° 。 ° ˛˚˛ * _Π_____*。*˚
˚ ˛ •˛•˚ */______/~\。˚ ˚ ˛
˚ ˛ •˛• ˚ | 田田 |門 ★

 *
I wished to trust myself 
on the waters and the sea. 
Everything was romantic in my imagination. 
The woods were peopled by the mysterious good folk. 
The Lords and Ladies of the last century 
walked with me along the overgrown paths, 
and picked the old-fashioned flowers 
among the box and rose hedges of the garden.” 
~ Beatrix Potter  •。★★ 。* 。•。★★ 。* 。 



Baking in the English Kitchen today with some of the Summer's bounty . . .  Pineapple & Zucchini Loaf.  Deliciously moist and comforting! 

Have a brilliant Saturday.  Be happy. Be safe.  Be kind. And don't forget!  

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And I do too!   



 

6 comments:

  1. Its 58F pouring and the fist football game.
    Have a good weekend:)Sports are a huge conundrum here..all to still be discussed...

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    1. I don't think anyone actually knows with any certainty the ramifications of opening things up Monique. We are living in scary and dangerous times! xoxo

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  2. Hi Marie, we were supposed to have rain all day today but nary a drop. The sun is shining brightly and a beautiful breeze is ruffling the curtains. It's just after 7:00 pm here. Loved all your "nice" things. Your pineapple and zucchini loaf sure looks tasty. Have a lovely Sunday tomorrow. Hugs and love, Elaine

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    Replies
    1. It has dawned cool but very sunny and clear skies this morning Elaine. Maybe we can get the grass cut, its getting quite tall! Love and hugs, xoxo

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  3. I did enjoy reading your thoughts on this one. I loved the poetry from very inspired poets. I do know our purpose is just as you stated, "Life is a journey towards becoming". I loved the book Jane Eyre and it was fun learning about the author.
    I do love homemade bread and used to make it alot when my kids were younger. Thank you for this recipe; I will try it. It looks like a good one.
    I had fun at the Lady Bug Picnic; way cute thoughts.
    Summer is fleeting and I do feel Autumn in the air.
    It is right that being a Mother of Adult does bring a different set of struggles and wonderful moments. I'm grateful for my children and who they are now.
    Have a very sweet Sabbath Day, dear friends!

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    Replies
    1. You and Roger have a sweet Sabbath day also LeAnn! Are you back to church yet? We are running on a rota system. We have not been assigned a spot as of yet, but that's okay as I am not really feeling comfortable going. Love and hugs, xoxo

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