All things nice . . .

 

His old feet clop along the quiet street

As patiently from door to door he goes,

Peddling his fragrant bread and shiny buns,

The little children stand on eager toes,

Stretching their necks to catch a glimpse inside

Where such delicious sweetness takes a ride.

The driver fills his basket full of loaves

As in and out of doors he makes his round,

The old horse watches him and moves along,

Nibbling at tuffs of grass . . . nosing the ground,

Turns at the corner careful as you please,

Rests in the shelter of a clump of trees.

All the long afternoon they make their way

From house to house and little street to street,

Day after day . . . month after weary month,

In winter's icy chill or summer's heat,

Never a word of grateful thanks or praise

To warm the weary routine of their days.

I wonder if we give  second thought

To daily services we all enjoy,

The little stall for vegetables and fruit,

The milk man -- mail man -- small delivery boy,

The patient few whose daily toil is such

Receive so little, yet who give so much.

~Edna Jaques, Delivery Horse

Roses in December

 I am not old enough to remember bakery horses but we did have a bread man when I was growing up as well as a milk man, fish man, vegetable man, fuller brush man, etc. Those were the days.  All of that luxury, and delivered right to the door as well.  Nowadays one has to go out and into a grocery store to get these things, or a hardware store for the fuller brush stuff.  

I remember us having a bread man with crossed eyes and trying hard to cross my eyes when he came to the door. Not in an effort to make fun of him or anything, just in an effort to try to see what he saw. I remember he had very blue eyes and my mother getting really angry with me and telling me my eyes would stay that way.

The bread man had treats, like donuts  . . .  but we never got any of them. The vegetable man would be appalled to be selling anything which was substandard. People had pride back then. People still do, but it is often misplaced.

I remember the milk man selling popsicles in the summer time. You could get a popsicle for 4 cents. Splitting them with my sister and trying really hard to break them perfectly in half.

Buying things in grocery stores is highly impersonal. I fear our communities have lost something special. I wonder if a bread man or a fish man, etc. would be able to make a go of it now? Probably not, but wouldn't it be wonderful if they could?

 

(source)

Can you remember your first kiss?  I mean your first real kiss?  I remember it being awkward.  Oh, I had played spin the bottle at a friend's house with a bunch of friends before. There used to be these boys with a car that would come up from Springfield to visit.  We played spin the bottle a few times at Linda Godden's house. There were a few cute ones, but the bottle never stopped on one of them for me.

I remember long prolonged kissing to the record "Where Evil Grows" by Terry Jacks in my other friend Linda's living room on the sofa with a guy named Lennie Risser. I remember his name only because we made up a little ditty about him. Lennie Risser, what a kisser. I remember he put his hand up the back of my shirt and caused a bit of a scandal.  The record kept playing over and over again.

I was the first of my friends to have a real boyfriend. 

I was so in love with him. He was everything to me. I remember the first time we kissed. It was on the front steps of my parents house and he asked me if he could have a goodnight kiss. My sister and mother were witnesses to it.  They were spying on us from the bathroom window.  He asked in a really goofy voice . . .  duh, can I have a goodnight kiss . . . I remember him giving me a pansy from a neighbors garden which I kept pressed in my bible for many years.  

We did get married, but not before I married someone else first.  He was a step dad to my oldest son and we had four other children together.  He was the great love of my life, even though it did not last the test of time.  Stuff just happens and people grow apart. It was not meant to be.  I don't think it was ever a really healthy relationship anyways. I am not sure I know how to have a healthy relationship.  I have failed at that three times.  I would never risk it another time. 

I envy those who have married once and just once and who have managed to weather all the storms that life throws at you together without giving up. It just didn't happen for me. As they say however, it is better to have loved and lost than to never have loved at all.

(source)

The leaves are really starting to change now. Each day brings about great change in color.  They will soon be falling at an alarming rate, which reminds me I need to get them to come and fix my garage door.  The leaves changed color in the UK as well in the autumn, but they did not have the brilliant colors that we have here in North America. Not so many deep oranges and scarlets.  A difference in the variety of trees. 

I have been keeping up with all things to do with the Queen's passing.  Yesterday it was very touching to see her four children stand vigil with her coffin in Westminster as the mourners filed past.  I have seen a few people on Facebook go on about how they don't understand all of the attention, etc. this is getting. It kind of annoys me to see their posts, although I do bite my tongue, taking the stance that if you can't say something nice, best to say nothing at all.

This was our sovereign.  A woman who, yes, lived a life of great privilege, but who also paid a huge price to do so. It was never of her choice, but a role she was born into.  A life of duty and service. A life where she was never allowed to outwardly have a political opinion. Where every minute of every day was regulated.  What she wore. Who she saw. What she did. A life of cutting ribbons and giving speeches.  Filled with ceremony and duty, and endless scrutiny. I could go on and on, but I am sure you get it.

All of this pomp and ceremony is our thanks to our Queen for all that she gave to us. It is the least that we can do.

And her family . . .  I remember how I felt when my own mother passed away. There is no way I would have wanted to bear my grief under the looking glass and scrutiny of the whole world as they are having to. This was their mum, their grand-mum, great grand-mum.  This must be incredibly difficult for all of them. My heart goes out to them. I was grateful that King Charles was able to have at least one day of private mourning. I am sure it was very much needed.

 

(source)

I am still feeling very poorly. I looked up the side effects of the new drug I am on and everything certainly fits in with that. My friend Ginny suggested I am low on electrolytes and I think she may be right, so I am hoping that my sister will be able to pick me up some Pedialyte today when she gets my father's shopping. To be honest I don't trust myself to drive very far. I am that tired. It is not a sleepy tired. It is a weary tired.  And I feel very nauseated as well, dizzy . . .  just blah.  I will see how the Pedialyte helps. Here is hoping.  You would not think that such a tiny thing, a half a tablet . . .  would have such a life altering effect on you, but it does and it can. I have also had leg cramps, etc.

I would not wish this on anyone.  I usually have a lot more get up and go than I have at the moment. My get up and go has gotten up and gone!  I hope it comes back!  I am not a person who is happy just laying around doing nothing. I went back to bed three times yesterday and have been back and laying down once already this morning.

I did make myself get in the car and go to my sisters for a break yesterday afternoon.  We shared a drink on her patio in the shade and a laugh or two.  And I did a Covid test because we thought for a second maybe this way I was feeling was Covid.  It wasn't.

Little Mac is growing by leaps and bounds.  He looks almost as big as Jazzie now . . .  he does have a ways to go. He is such an endearing little character. He has real personality. He has conversations with you as well.  Yesterday when we were outside on the drive sitting, he was at the door meowing at us almost the whole time. He was a very happy camper when we came back in.

I wish that I could show you the wonderful bags my sister has been making.  Cross body phone bags, purse types of bags, etc.  Her work is immaculate. I had hoped that I would be able to help her to do stuff in some way, but I just don't have the oomph at the moment. Anyone who buys one of her bags is going to be buying a real work of art.

Everything she sets her hand to is exemplary. I am always so proud of her.

 

(source)

I watched my DIL's father's memorial service on line yesterday morning. Isn't it marvelous that we can do such things nowadays. My heart was very much with them all. It was a lovely service. My daughter in law spoke some lovely words about her father, as did her sister.  There were quite a few people at the service.  It was nice to see how supported they were and how well thought of her father was.

I have a card to send. But it is hard to know what to say. I am not good with things like this.  And the cards always seem so trite.  I usually like to wait a week or so until everything dies down.  There is so much attention given in the first week or so and then one can feel quite at a loss after that, forgotten even  . . .  I think it is nicer to wait a while and then to let the person know that they are still in your heart and prayers. Maybe I am wrong, I don't know for sure. 

One thing I have been enjoying on Fridays is Happy Fry Day with How to Feed a Loon.  Those two guys always make me smile. They have been challenging each other to deep fry something on Fridays and it is all done by spinning a wheel, with often surprisingly delicious results. In the latest episode they deep fried Tuna Sushi and Potato salad. It was really fun to watch. They have done Cinnamon buns, Beef Burritos, Ham and Cheese Omelet, and get this . . .  Sloppy Joes.  Its a real smile maker. Those guys are real smile makers.  Love them to bits.

Well, I am running out of steam here and the hour is hastening on so I will close with a thought for the day . . . 

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

 *.˛.°Light tomorrow

              with today . . .

~Elizabeth Barrett Browning

•。★★ 。* 。•。★★ 。* 。 

In The English Kitchen today  . . .  Spiced Chocolate Pumpkin Cake. Incredibly edibly moist. Not overly spicy. Deep and chocolaty. 

Have a wonderful day.  I can hear lots of crows and blue jays crying out back of my place. I wonder what is up with that. I am sorry if I am slow to respond or to read, etc. I am having a hard time keeping up at the moment.  I will do better once I get myself sorted!  In the meantime, don't forget! 

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 And I do too!