Saturday Nice . . .

 

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A little hat gay as a robin's egg,

A pair of pumps with tiny stilted heels,

A clump of violets on a purple dress,

A little whisper in the air that feels

As if a breath of spring were blowing there,

From a plowed fiend beyond the town somewhere.

A restless longing in the hearts of men

To leave their dingy jobs and travel far,

Roaming the earth beyond the cities' fret

Where mountain peaks are lovely as a star,

Where vast unpeopled valleys lie unclaimed

And mighty rivers flow, unknown, unnamed.

New suits in plaids and checks and sober brown,

A window full of gaily patterned prints,

A tufted bedspread draped across a chair,

Gay curtains made of gaudy floral chintz,

A bunch of kids hunched in an alleyway

playing a game of marbles half the day.

A blue jay piping in the purple dusk

Beyond the quiet borders of the town,

A farmer pacing off a little field,

The smoke from supper fires drifting down,

And in the hearts of common folk and king

The great up-rushing currents of the spring.

~Edna Jacques, Spring

Back-Door Neighbors, 1946

I chose this poem this morning based on the title and it being officially Spring. even though the weather is not even remotely spring-like for many people at the moment. It won't be long before it will be. Winter's last hurrah is busy tormenting us all at the moment, alas. What makes it bearable is knowing that it cannot last, and we will soon be enjoying all of the joys and pleasures of spring.

Yesterday when I went to my sister's for our wee trip with dad, I could smell woodsmoke very clearly in the air, the smoke from supper fires?  I don't know.  All I can say for sure is that it is a smell I truly enjoy.

 

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I can remember always wearing a hat to church when I was small. There is a photo somewhere of my standing outside my grandparent's house in Lawrencetown here in Nova Scotia, all decked out in my Easter finery. With a little navy cloth coat, a pretty white and navy polka dot dress, and small white straw hat, holding my little white bible in my hands. I would have been on my way to Sunday school I guess. I am not sure.  I do remember having a few hats for church. I remember one being like a head band and it was tight and hurt my head.

One year when my girls were small I bought them matching dresses for Easter, albeit in different colors, to wear to church that came with little straw hats to match. They were so cute. I am sure photographs exist somewhere. I was not allowed to have any photos when that marriage broke up. Long story, not worth telling.

People don't really wear hats any more, unless they are extremely wealthy and going to a wedding or to Ascot. Or unless it is a ball cap.  There are plenty of those about. 

Back in the day there was a dress code for flying on an airplane. Things are much more relaxed now.

 

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Eileen was a but upset after her CSS visit yesterday. First of all she was forced to sit at a table at Tim Hortons across from Tim's and his girlfriend. The place was busy and that was the only empty seat. Personally, I think someone in the group should have switched places with her rather than make her endure that.  Secondly she was forced to watch them kissing in the parking lot as they were all leaving, again she and Tim in the same car.  I just don't "get" it.  Just because these people are learning disabled, that doesn't mean that they don't have feelings or that their feelings don't matter. I do not really believe that enough care is being taken, but I don't know who to talk to it about.

I am giving her lots of support here at home, but I think that there is a duty of care which should be taken by those who are "helping" them out in the CSS program. Ant that duty of care should involve not putting her into awkward situations with Tim and his lady friend. I know they are a small group of people, and that there are situations where they will be thrown together, but must they always be in such close proximity??  I really don't understand it, and it doesn't seem very right to me.

I found this page on FB yesterday for Maine Coon kittens here in the Valley. I am not sure how much they cost but it is probably a pretty penny. They are all so cute. But then again, any kitten is cute. My cousin told me that my cat's father had Maine Coon in him and sometimes I can see it.  

I love my cats. They have such unique personalities, and are as different as chalk and cheese. Yesterday around suppertime, Nutmeg was pestering Cinnamon so I chased him away from her.  So next thing I know I could hear him in the bathroom. When I went to investigate, he was in the process of emptying the garbage. So I chased him out of there and cleaned it up. He went from there to the bookcase by my front door and proceeded to pull all of the books out and off the bottom shelf.

I finally relented and gave them their supper, even though it wasn't quite the regular time. It was clear to me that he was going to continue to do things like that to get my attention.

 

This was him just a little while later, snuggling up to me on the sofa.  He knows what he wants and he knows how to get it. 

Eileen was working on her bead craft next to him. She is doing some little Christmas sticker things. 

I just found the photo I was talking about earlier. I would be 4 1/2 in this picture. My hair had all been cut off as my mother was going into hospital to have our Brother earlier that month and she didn't want my grandmother (who was ill with cancer) to have to deal with my curls. I think I was taken to the barber that lived a few doors down.

 

At this time of year . . . early Spring, anything can and does happen weather-wise.   Cherry trees bloom . . . and snow falls.  I often empathize with Thoreau, living his solitary life in a hut by Walden Pond . . . impatient with the busy-ness of life which creates days that are ending no sooner than they are beginning.

"I went to the woods because I wished to live deliberately, to front only the essential facts of life, and see if I could not learn what it had to teach, and not, when I came to die, discover that I had not lived."

I think we often rush about too much, keeping to schedules and busying up our days.   I prefer whimsically haphazard days . . . much like this blog is meant to be.   Like life, I never know for sure really what I am going to write about each morning when I sit down at the computer.   My words kind of unfold from the tips of my fingertips and that is how my days go . . . they kind of unfold before me, and . . . except for appointments which must be kept . . . the magic and the mystery of the unfolding of each day is like a gift I give myself.

 Life is far too short to live it in a box or any prescribed way . . . I am  here to listen to the music, and to dance and to sing . . . to find poetry in simplicity . . . to enjoy the small things, little gifts and tiny moments . . . for in reality . . . life is not about the big things at all, but in the small and simple little things that become the fabric of each and every day.  They are that which count the most of all . . .

I am going to end this now.  I am really tired this morning and I think I am going to crawl into my chair and have a quick nap before Eileen wakes up and my day begins in earnest.  I don't seem to be able to gather my thoughts coherently this morning. I am just too tired I guess. I apologize for not being my usual self.

A thought to carry with you . . . 

☾ ° ★° * 。  

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

*An owl is the wisest of all birds
because the more it sees
the less it talks.
~Unknown

In The English Kitchen today, Five Spring Cakes worth Baking. All delicious. All favorites. All very spring-like.

I hope you have a beautiful weekend. Whatever you get up to I hope it brings you peace and joy. Don't forget!

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And I do too!