Saturday Nice . . .

 

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The winds that blow o'er little fields

Have healing in their wake,

Because they blow by growing trees

Between the leaves and take

Part of their fragrance for their pay

To spill along the right-o-way.

The wins that blow where waters lie

Have peace in every whiff,

Lifting the scent of salt and kelp

Above a high white cliff,

Where an old sailor mends his sails,

Or rides the seas long salty trails.

The winds that blow up city streets

Bring to the dusty mart,

The scent and sound of crystal springs

Where mighty rivers start,

Of little crevices and coves

As fragrant as the smell of cloves.

The winds that blow from Hudson Bay

Carry the taint and taste

Of tundra moss and glacier ice

The Arctic's dreary waste,

Of lonely frontiers rimmed with snow

The northern lights fantastic glow.

And men -- caught in the city's press

Bow down their heads with loneliness.

~Edna Jacques, The Winds that Blow

Hills of Home, 1952

I have always loved the wind. It fascinates me. As it brushes past me I often think of all the other places, peoples and things this same wind has brushed past. Nobody knows where it came from or where it is going . . . it just comes and it just goes. Oh sure we can tell the direction of it  . . .  North, South, etc. but where does it start. Where is it's beginning . . .  and where will it end. It carries with it the smell and feel of all the places.  I love to sit at the shore on a hot day and feel the wind brushing past me, cooling me down and smelling of salt and sea . . . and think of the waves it's tossed and watching the gulls that ride and soar  with it as it flows as if they are on some sort of carnival ride.

And then there is the feeling of safe and comfort one gets when they are indoors looking out at the wind as it bends the bushes low to brush the earth and makes the trees dance and sway, while rain beats upon the window panes, and a groan whispers through the eaves . . .  a shiver runs down your spine at the thought of being out in it, and you are most happy to be indoors.

I love to watch it carry the snow and blast it across the road, creating swirls and peaks . . . and caves and coves . . .  again, it makes me glad to not be out in it.

It can be as peaceful as a soft breeze which brushes your cheeks, almost as if the fingertips of God were playing upon your skin . . . and it can take our breath away as we fight against it's strength in a storm. I have seen people bent low trying to circumnavigate it's flow.

And yet  . . .  the wind itself is unseen. We only see and feel it's touch. It is a most mysterious thing is the wind. A most mysterious thing . . . 

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One of our friends when it comes to the wind is having a good cardigan to put on to keep us warm. I love a good cardigan. When I was much younger (and thinner) I loved having a cardigan set (twin set) with a short sleeved pullover and a cardigan that matched. I remember having several sets that I loved. They had little pearl beads on the front of the pullovers. I had a maroon colored set and a khaki green set. I loved to wear them with jeans. I felt so elegant when I did so.

I have always loved pretty things and wearing pretty things  . . . I can remember one time my sister bought me a beautiful red and white woven skirt, almost like gingham. It was so pretty. I had a little white eyelet blouse that I liked to wear it with. 

I can remember all of my favorite dresses from when I was a child. We used to wear dresses all the time back then. I had a pale blue one which had a full skirt decorated with white crochet lace. There was a pattern of elephants in the lace and it had ties that crossed in the back and tied into a bow. That was a gift from our next door neighbors' grandmother. Their name was Ducommun and I called her Grammy Ducommun. For some reason she had taken a liking to me and had sent me this pretty little dress. She also sent me a Christmas card one time that was a record. I am still friends with the son of the family. He is my friend on Facebook.  He is a photographer now.

I used to sew all of my dresses when I was in high school. I loved the Style patterns. I had some really pretty ones.

Now I dress for comfort and ease.

 

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The hummers are slowing down now. I have noticed fewer of them at the feeders these past few days. A small female, that's about all. The aerial battles haven't been happening.  The last few weeks I had been refilling the feeder twice a week, but this past few days it has hardly gone down at all. I checked online and it says that the migration begins around the end of August, beginning of September. I always miss them when they leave.  They bring me and the cats hours of fun when they are at the height of their activity. 

Bailey with his favorite toy

Cindy and took Bailey next door to spend time with Sheila yesterday morning. We also visited with her at the same time. She was so pleased to see him. She is doing so well, and of course enjoyed the company.  Cindy told her that on the days that she brings dad into town to go to Tim Hortons, she will also bring Bailey and leave him with Sheila for the hour that Dad is at the coffee shop.  She was quite happy about that. Bailey was happy to see her of course. Dogs never forget.

 

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We spend so much time bracing ourselves for the big things - - the promotions, the grand celebrations, the departures - - that we treat the time in between as a pathway we're walking to get to the next step. But lately, I've realized that most of life happens in those in-betweens, and they're worth acknowledging and celebrating.

As easy as they are to overlook, the in-betweens are always there and no less beautiful than the grand moments.  Five minutes here and five minutes there  . . .  that song on the radio in the car that you pause to listen to through to the end, even if you've already reached your destination  . . .  you may even find yourself singing along. The quiet and comfort of cleaning up after having had a crowd over for dinner . . . the remains of a well-spent evening with loved ones and friends. The moment, after pushing open a window, that the breeze begins to play with the curtains, making them dance and sway to an quiet tune that only they can hear. That moment between day or night  . . .  when dusk falls and the world feels quieter . . .  a hush falls as the earth is bathed in the golden glow of neither here nor there. That coolness of the sheets that whisper over your toes when you first slip between the sheets at bedtime  . . . 

A beautiful life is not about adding more to it; it's about noticing what's already ours and already there and feeling grateful for it. Slowing down . . . and letting these things unfold in the beautiful way that they do. Life is not lived in the big events . . .  it's lived in the moments between them, the magic in the gaps.  You're already in the middle of it, and it's beautiful.

 

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*。*˚HOW TO BUILD  BEAUTIFUL LIFE*。*˚

• Open the windows to let fresh air in, even if only for a few seconds
• Keep a candle on the table and light it, just because
• Take your morning drink to a special place where you can sit quietly, sip and enjoy in peace
• Have a comfy chair or corner that you return to often
• Keep a book you are reading nearby, just in case you have time to read a few pages
• Listen to audio books while you putter, or better yet, music you really enjoy listening to
• Step outside on a sunny day and let the sun play on your face for just a few moments, just because
• Fold blankets and fluff pillows
• Buy a bouquet of pretty flowers for yourself, again . . . just because
• Have pockets in your day where you have absolutely nothing planned and then do nothing
• Cook something simple and enjoy the process
• If you live on your own, cook yourself a beautiful meal and then sit down to enjoy it with a full set table and some lovely music playing, savor every mouthful, and then have dessert
• Keep something old, simply because you love it
• Write things down, even if nobody else will ever read them
• Notice when something feels good and then stay with it a bit longer than you normally would
• Watch a favorite movie again, even if you have watched it a bazillion times already
• Brush your hair with a hundred strokes

A beautiful life may look different for each of us, and if often changes with the times and seasons of our lives . . . build it anyways.

And that's about all I have to share for today.  I will be picking up Eileen later today for our sleepover. She is so excited to come and I am very excited to have her. I am not sure what movie we will watch, but we will enjoy it whatever it is, simply because we are sharing it together.

A thought to carry with you  . . . 

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

˛*An ordinary life can be extraordinary,

There is beauty in imperfection,

And that magic can be found in 

the every day.

In The English Kitchen today, Easy No Knead Light Rye Bread. This is one of those batter type of breads. Simple to make and oh so tasty!

 I hope your day is as beautiful as you are.  May you be richly blessed and cared for. Don't forget!

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⊰✿░G░O░D⊰✿⊰L░O░V░E░S⊰✿⊰░Y░O░U░⊰✿

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And I do too!