All Things Nice . . .

 

 

(source)

You're welcome . . . what a lovely phrase,

To greet you at the journey's end,

An open door -- a table set

The tender handclasp of a friend,

Drawing you in to warmth and light,

Giving you shelter from the night.

You're welcome -- how could heaven coin,

A sweeter word, a lovelier thought,

A warmth surging in your heart,

The glint of tear drops swiftly caught,

The glow of friendship tried and true,

Warming the heart and soul of you.

You're welcome -- sitting at her hearth,

The doors all shut, the curtains drawn

An understanding deep and true,

(You wonder where your worry's gone),

For troubles shared are cut in half,

And loads are lighter when we laugh.

When I near heaven . . . oh may I hear

That lovely phrase, you're welcome dear.

~Edna Jaques, You're Welcome

Roses in December, 1944

"God gave us memories . . . that

we might have roses in December."

Well, I had a very unexpected turn of events yesterday that was not anticipated. I had gone out shopping with my sister later in the morning.  We went to the fabric store first.  I had a few bits I wanted to pick up there and then we went to Giant Tiger. I found myself a couple of shirts that I got really marked down. Cotton. So they will probably require ironing, but that's okay. I thought they would be good just for wearing around the house and they were only $11 each.  I picked up a few other little bits as well. Then we went to Sobey's, which is a grocery store.  We toddled around there and all of a sudden I needed to go to the loo really bad. My bladder felt like it was to bursting. 

I don't really like using public loo's.  Most can be a bit nasty, however the one in Sobey's is not too bad.  While in the loo I started feeling really unwell. I came over hot and sweaty and had a pressure on my chest that didn't feel normal.  So we paid for our groceries and left to go back to mine. It did not abate, so by the time we got into my house, we called for an ambulance.  Yes  . . . again.  They came and did some tests and then recommended I go to hospital. They couldn't find anything untoward, but felt it was better to be safe than sorry.  So off I went.  This was about 1:30.

They gave me nitro under the tongue and tried three times to put in a picc line.  They could not get one in and I have some really nice bruises today to prove it, lol.

What followed was a very long stint at the hospital in Kentville.  I had several series of blood tests, about 6 hours apart.  I also had a chest x-ray.  They did a CT scan as well.  They were able to rule out anything involving my heart. (Which was a relief I have to say.)  Everything checked out normal.  The CT scan did show a spot on one of my lungs, so they have recommended I get another one in a year's time. (That is a bit worrisome to me, but hey ho, it isn't urgent or they would have done more tests right then and there.)

I ended up home about 9:30 last night.  Cindy drove up to be with me and was there about 6:30 or so. I was so grateful to have her with me.  She is such a good friend and sister.  I don't think she can ever know how very much I appreciate her, but I hope that she does.  It was a bit scary driving all that way home in the dark, but she did it.  (Long winding country roads that deer can pop out of at any time.)

I am so thankful to have family that care about and love me so much, and I am so thankful that I have access to a good health care system.  (I will remind myself of that when I get the ambulance bill, lol.)  I am also grateful that nothing was really wrong.  So, so, so grateful.  Not that I am afraid to die, but that I am not ready to die. I have things to do first. I need to make a list and get them done.

 

(Source)

What a lovely bedroom.

The woman in the cubicle next to me ended up being a lady I used to know from church.  Glenna and I used to pick her up on Sunday mornings. She doesn't come out any longer.  She has quite a few mental problems actually and it a bit like a tinder box. You never know when she is going to explode.  She went off a few times when we were there, but Cindy and I were able to calm her down by showing her pictures of our cats and she showed us pictures of hers.  I am not sure why she was there, it was none of my business really.  But I was glad that I was able to distract her for the time at least that we were there. I think those nurses are very patient people.

 

One thing I was thinking about the other day was about how "Eating Out" used to be an occasion. It was very much NOT an every day occurrence, and people used to dress up to go out to eat. I can remember too, having to dress up to go on an airplane. Such things were considered to be very special and were never treated casually.  I believe my mother even used to dress up to go to the grocery store, perhaps not in her Sunday best, but she would never have dreamed of going anywhere in the same clothing that she wore around the house to do her household chores.  That would have been seen to be very poor etiquette.

In some ways I miss those days  . . .  when people were not so casual  . . . but in other ways I am grateful that we need not be so formal about most things, like grocery shopping.. But dining out?  It would be nice if we did not treat it as such a common day occurrence I think. If it were treated more like the occasion that it is. And maybe that is more about our attitude towards it than our dress or deportment. Maybe we need to be more invested in these special times.  Like Wednesday night dinner with Dad.  That is an occasion. We are building memories, and while we may not be very likely to really dress up for it, perhaps it would be better to take a more "its an occasion" approach to it.  There will come a time when we won't be able to do this anymore. Dad will be gone, and as much as we would like to be out to dinner with him, we won't be able to do so.  I need to start treating such things as more of an "occasion" me thinks  . . . . 

 

Actually, each day we are given is a bit of an occasion. I know I am guilty often of taking my days for granted. But, in reality, each day I am given is a gift.  I need to treat my days with more respect and to try to enjoy as much of each day that I can.  After all, it is very true, today is a day that will never come again. I need to stop and smell the "coffee" as it were (I don't drink coffee), but you get my drift.  I need to acknowledge the blessing that "this day" is and to really appreciate the gifts that each day brings to my table. As I am fond of saying, every day may not be a "good day" but there is surely something good and pure in each day.  And each day we are given should be celebrated for the gift that it is.

I need to do that more. To not waste a second of any day I have been given . . .  by regretting things, or feeling remorse over things I might have done better or differently  . . . by dwelling on the past and the things I cannot change, the things which have hurt me, or the people. 

Instead I should try to be more grateful.  Grateful for the journey I have taken and for the lessons I have learned along the way, even the very hard ones.  I do try to do that for the most part, but I do have my "woe is me" moments.  I need to stop that.  I should not be wasting my "present" on things I cannot change.

 

(source)

"A house is who you are, not who you ought to be."

~Jill Robinson

Do you enjoy your home and what it says about you? I try to.  I can be a bit cluttery at times and that really can annoy me. The personalities of our homes are accurate barometers that reflect where we have been (through our surroundings) and what's going on in our lives.  I don't like clutter. It drives me up the wall.  I do tend to let things pile up. I will have a sort out and vow not to let things pile up again, and for a time I will actually do really well at that, but  . . .  inevitably I start to fall back into old habits and things start to pile up again.

I have little corners of my home that I really enjoy and that bring me immense pleasure.  My bookcase that has the chintz curtain covering the books and the toadstool bird house on the top.  There is a porcelain Jenny Wren in front of the bird house and a smaller toadstool light that Cindy and Dan gave me for Christmas last year, along with a lantern holding a candle and a few small fake potted plant. When I look at that it brigs me joy. 

So does my bookcase by the front door with my father's clock on it and Luna Lapin, the red geranium . . . the chest freezer in my bedroom that has the hand crocheted doily that I made for my mother on it, topped with the rose decorated ceramic pitcher and basin that I made for my mother many years ago.

I love the table next to my sofa that has a decorative throw covering it, with my little red carriage clock, which sits atop a decoratively placed pile of children's books.  I bought that clock at a yard sale and it brings me joy. 

The art I chose to put onto my walls, my lovely dolls, tea pots, etc. I have filled my home with small pockets of joy.  I like to think that it shows my personality, but I also don't like to think that my personality says "clutter."  I would much prefer that is says, "lived in."

Days like yesterday are reminders to me about how very precious my time is, my family, my home  . . .  and how very much I don't want to let any of it go unmarked or unnoticed or unappreciated.

And now with that I best get on with my day.  It is the first day of General Conference today and I want to be ready for that. Also my favorite apples are at the Farmer's Market and I really want to go and grab a bag before Conference starts.

I will leave you with a thought for the day  . . . 

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

 *The world's big and I want to

have a good look at it before it gets dark.

~John Muir  ° * 。 • ˚ ˚ ˛ ˚ ˛ •

° * 。 • ˚ ˚ ˛ ˚ ˛ •

Understandably there is nothing really new in my kitchen today so in the place of that I am sharing an older recipe for Sour Cream Blueberry Muffins. These are fabulous muffins.  Bakery quality muffins you can bake at home, downsized recipe for the smaller family. Moist and filled with loads of lovely berries. You could do a lot worse for yourself than to bake these!

I hope that you have a beautiful weekend. I know mine will be filled with purpose and inspiration because of General Conference. I am really looking forward to the talks.  Be safe. Be happy. Be blessed.  Don't forget!

═══════════ღೋƸ̵̡Ӝ̵̨̄Ʒღೋ═══════════ 

⊰✿░G░O░D⊰✿⊰L░O░V░E░S⊰✿⊰░Y░O░U░⊰✿
═══════════ ღೋƸ̵̡Ӝ̵̨̄Ʒღೋ ═══════════

 

And I do too! 

 

All Things Nice . . .

 

(source) 

To carve in language all the lovely things

That blend into the warp of every day,

A tuft of pine brushing against the sky;

A yellow climbing rose with feet of clay.

A settler's farm hewn from a valley floor,

A shaggy cow . . .  a rugged fold for sheep,

Night creeping down the hills in purple folds,

A stony pasture field where cattle sleep.

To paint in words the sheen of candle light

Flickering before the Blessed Virgin's face,

A wisp of incense floating in the air,

Its perfume filling all the holy place.

To fashion words with deft unerring skill

As craftsmen fashion gold in filigree

To set the glowing jewel of a thought

Within the clasp of true humility.

To weave a song upon the warp of life

Colored as gay as apples in a dish,

Where love and joy are woven in the woof

of lovely tapestry . . . this is my wish.

~Edna Jacques, A Writer's Dream 

 

(source)

Oh, I have walked amongst plum trees such as these, their dusky purple fruits hanging low upon the branches.  When I worked at the Manor, they had plum trees in their orchard, just beyond the Tennis Courts, filled with abundance.  I picked bags full every year.  They were beautiful eaten out of hand, but also made brilliant tarts, bakes, cakes, jams . . . 

You did often have to fight the wasps for them however.  Especially as the season wore on.  Their skins would start to split and those split plums were like magnets for the wasps.

But walking through those trees hanging with purple jewels, was like a little bit of magic wonder for me.  We tried to grow our own when we moved back up North, but never with much success.

 

 

(source)

Yesterday was a lovely glimpse into Spring, which is just around the corner.  It was sunny and very mild.  I am not sure how high the temperature got, but the eaves were dripping with snow melting from off the roof tops.  I can not see the tips of my feeders.  Oh, I know it is only a taste of what is yet to come.  We have  a bit more of Winter to experience before Spring really arrives, but it was a lovely taste nonetheless. 

I took a walk down to the end of the street to empty my compost bin. It was very pleasant.  The sound of the water running, that freshness in the air.  I opened my front window a tiny bit as well as the one in my bedroom.  It was very nice to blow the cobwebs out.   I saw my first spider in the bedroom . . . they say it will be warmer still today  . . . 

The two kit kats really enjoyed the fresh air. They love it when I open the windows. So many new smells to explore.  I know many people think that cats should be allowed to explore the great outdoors. But I am not one of them. Indoor cats live longer. Its much safer for them.  No cars. No wild animals.   In the UK it was impossible to keep your cats indoors. There were no screens on the windows.  People had net curtains.  But then again, where I lived there were no mozzies or black flies. 

 

(source)

Cats and dogs know right where to sleep. They will find the sunny spot, the most comfy spot, the ideal spot to take a nap.  And they nap so beautifully. I wish I could nap like a cat. 

 

(source)

I picked myself up a jog of Tropicana yesterday when I was at the shops.  I can still remember the first time I ever tasted Tropicana Orange Juice. We were in the car moving from Manitoba to Nova Scotia. I was 10, almost 11. My mom bought a jug of it to have in the car. None of us had ever had it. I remember it was in a very big glass jar with hand grips on the side. It tasted so good.   I fell in love with it.

This was something else we loved. Nesbitt's Orange soda pop. Made from real oranges.  I remember there used to be pulp in it.  For a period of time when I was a child we lived next to the Mid Valley Motel which is just a little bit across the street from where I live now.  They had a lobby, all wall to wall carpeting, by the front desk where they sold candy bars and potato chips and they had one of those cold drink coolers.  The kind where the bottles hung from bars.  You put your money in and you had to slide the drink along the bars and out from their captivity. There was a bottle opener on the side of the cooler.  When we got our allowance we would pop over to the motel and buy ourselves a bag of potato chips, a candy bar and an ice cold bottle of Nesbitt's orange soda pop. Nectar of the Gods, or so we thought.

Funny how life goes.  That little house we lived in is still there, as it the motel although it is called Mid Valley Suites now.  I would never have thought way back then that I would find myself here towards the end of my life living just a stone's throw away.  Life is funny  . . .  you never know where it is going to take you. 

 

(source)

I may bake some biscuits today. We will see. The other day when I talked to my son Anthony, he was making my mom's biscuits.  Everyone loved mom's biscuits.  I don't know where she got the recipe, but they are very good.  Even Eileen can make them. I may small batch the recipe because I just don't need 3 dozen biscuits.  A supper of beans and biscuits sounds really good to me. 

 

(source)

I tried to go back to bed this morning. It didn't last very long.  The cats were too inquisitive. Wanting to get under the covers, etc. I gave up after about 15 minutes. At least I am not alone.  One or the other of them is never very far away from me.  They are very good company.

I have a RS/PH lesson to put the finishing touches on today as well.  It is based on the talk from the last conference by President Eyring, entitled "The Faith to Ask and then to Act."  It will be a real challenge teaching a lesson via Zoom I think. I don't know how to work power point or anything like that.  Usually I will hand out quotes for people to read out loud and then we will have a discussion on those quotes.  I am not sure how this is going to work, but we will see.  I am not sure how much longer our church will be closed. 

Technology has been a real blessing over these past few years.  Through the use of it we have been able to stay in touch with our loved ones, our friends, our church's etc. The Missionaries have still been able to do their Missionary work. People have entertained each other in a wide variety of ways.  That has been the good side of Covid.  This gathering together via whatever means possible. Perhaps it has taught us "what" or "who" it is in life that really matters most.  At least for some people anyways.

And with that I best close this off. Its already past 9 am and I have tons to get done before the day is through.  I will leave you now with a thought for the day  . . . 

° * 。 • ˚ ˚ ˛ ˚ ˛ •

•。★★ 。* 。

° 。 ° ˛˚˛ * _Π_____*。*˚

˚ ˛ •˛•˚ */______/~＼。˚ ˚ ˛

˚ ˛ •˛• ˚ ｜ 田田 ｜門 ★

 *I know a bank where the wild thyme blows,

Where oxlips and the nodding violet grows,

Quite over canopied with lucious wood-bine,

With sweet musk roses and with eglantine;

~Shakespeare° * 。 • ˚ ˚ ˛ ˚ ˛ • ° * 。 • ˚ ˚ ˛ ˚ ˛ • 

 In The English Kitchen today  . . .  Quick and Easy Banana Pudding.  Its a cheat, but its delicious. 

I hope you have a fabulous Saturday, filled with tons of nice things, things that you enjoy, things that make you happy.  Don't forget! 

‎═══════════ ღೋ Ƹ̵̡Ӝ̵̨̄Ʒgೋ ═══════════ ‎

⊰✿░G░O░D⊰✿⊰L░O░V░E░S⊰✿⊰░Y░O░U░⊰✿
═══════════ ღೋƸ̵̡Ӝ̵̨̄Ʒღೋ ═══════════     


And I do too!   

    

 

All Things Nice . . .

 

(source)

  

Great things come quietly to earth,

Sunrise is silent and the birth

Of the great Prince of Light and Life,

came in the stillness of the night. 

The mighty tides that wax and wane,

Move on a soundless mighty plane,

In answer to the pull and draw

Of some vast undisputed law.

A snowflake falling to the ground

Makes not the slightest breath of sound,

The stars come out in silent ranks,

Like daisies on the river banks.

The blessed seasons come and go,

Like a great pageant moving show

Across the stage of time and space,

With quiet majesty and grace.

The giant fir . . .  the stately elm,

Live in some peaceful silent realm,

While there is neither noise nor sound,

Below the surface of the ground.

And I have seen great rivers flow,

In soundless rapture as they go

To join the far depths of the sea

Held in some magic harmony.

Death is a silent guest and makes

No greeting to the soul it takes,

And Life comes like a breath indrawn,

As still and quiet as the dawn.

~Edna Jacques, Great Things Come Silently 

Well, I was really enjoying that poem until the very end. Yikes!  It kind of crept up on my silently. No pun intended.  I thought the words quite beautiful to this poem really.  I love poetry. It is always amazing to me that someone can string groups of words together in such a way as to evoke such tender feelings in the heart and soul. 

 

(source)

There is a hillside we drive past as we go to my father's place in Greenwood.  We pass by where some of the married quarters which we used to live in as children lay many years ago. I also lived in them as an adult, raising my own family.  The houses are all gone now.  No trace of them remains. No streets. nothing.  A childhood erased as it were. Its quite strange.  But the hill is still there.  We used to slide down it in our sleds and snow saucers, crazy carpets flying  . . .  when we were children.  Looking at it now, it doesn't look so steep and I wonder at what it was about that hill that drew us all there.  There is not much of an incline to it at all, and yet as a child it looked and felt monstrously fun to slide down.  Could it have somehow shrunk through the years?  My sister thinks they drew from it to fill in the multiple basements of the houses they pulled down, but in thinking about that, it doesn't make sense. Would there not now be a hole where the hill once stood? 

I think that we just grew up and as we grew up so did our dreams and expectations.  What once was tall is now just small.  The steep only really existed in our minds.  That hill used to be crowded on winter days, especially after the first snowfall of the year.  The air would ring with children's voices and laughter.  Now only echoes of the past.  I can still hear them in my mind's eye and wonder at the passage of time . . . and how something that was so alive, so vibrant, so pulsing  . . .  can just simply disappear as if it was never there. 

And yet it did.  There were streets of pavement and concrete that rang with the sound of children at play. Babies were born, hearts were broken, lives lived with joy and laughter, with tears and pain.  No inkling longer exists of what once was. 

But as a child I believed that I could still hear the padding of ancient native feet as I wandered through the tall pines that stood sentinel on every street and in every space and which stand there still.  The padding of feet having been joined with the echoes of the voices of children sliding down the hill, and the sounds of  bicycles with playing cards clicking against the spokes . . . 

 

(source)

Bird watcher, birder, ornithologist  . . .  twitcher  . . .  I have been, and am, all of those things.  To be honest, I have been a bit disappointed by the lack of visitors to my feeders really.  I had more sparrows come to my feeders in the UK than I have had come to these here where I live.  Perhaps there are too many of us feeding them??  I do get lots of crows and jays, and there are plenty of pigeons and doves scattered about. I've seen the occasional rat, but not much in the way of winged creatures. I did see a small group of goldfinches one day, their brilliant summer coats now dull.  But not much else. I had hoped that the kittens would also enjoy watching flocks of birds come to the feeders, but no.

They do hop to it when they hear a jay cry or a crown caw  . . . 

I feel for the birds in the winter months.  I wonder at the miracle that is their survival against all odds.  How they cope with the frigid temperatures and the damp and the cold, sleet, snow  . . . it is a marvel to me who feels the cold even now against my ankles.  I am sitting here hoping that the heat pump comes on again soon.  What are the odds?  I think pretty good.

 

(source)

Thinking back to New Year's Day as a child. My parents always, always went out on New Years Eve.   My mother always looked and smelled so pretty to me and my father too, handsome in his good suit. Mom always wore a corsage when we were really small.  I loved watching her get ready to go out.  We would be long asleep when they came home in the wee hours.   We would wake up in the morning knowing that there would be noisemakers to play with and to blow,  party hats to wear . . .  but we were not allowed to play or do anything with them until my father got up.   

Mom, of course, was always up with us at the crack of dawn, no matter what time she had gotten into bed and asleep. I don't remember her ever having a hangover, but I am sure there were times that she did.  If she did, we never knew it.  She was just there.  A constant in our lives that we could rely on like the sun coming up each morning and going down each night.

New Year's Day always meant Ham.  We had ham twice a year.  New Years and Easter. You could depend on it. It was always served cold with mashed potatoes, carrots and mustard.  That's how my dad liked it.  Maybe she would have baked a lemon or apple pie. My father loved both those things.

My sister is having ham today, but we are having baked beans with it. Homemade baked beans.  I love those. I am baking biscuits to bring, and dad will be there too.  It will be a brilliant start to a new year.

I wonder at what 2022 will bring to the table. I am almost afraid to think about it. 2020 brought such a great surprise to us, and 2021 much disappointment . . .  2022 is starting off in much the same way as 2021, we still hope for an end to the virus, and a prayer that we will get out of it alive.  And we thank God that we are all still here, along with our loved ones as so many are not.  And we secretly wonder how much longer we can go on without being touched by it . . . fears that are not spoken out loud.  We take our blessings where we find them and are grateful for them.

The kittens are in their basket looking out the front window.  I just had to rescue Cinnamon from behind the washing machine and dryer again. I could hear her scratching, but no cries this time. Nutmeg was holding guard at the front.   I used a towel again to get her out.  Threw it over the back and she crawled up it as I held it in place.  I would have thought she would not have done that again.  I will need to think of some kind of solution to that.  Perhaps I can put up a long shelf behind there. Maybe if I buy a plank and some brackets I could get Dan to put it up for me? Then I could put my laundry stuff on the shelf.  The gap behind would be covered and the cats wouldn't be able to jump down in behind them any more. I will ask Dan today. 

I really enjoyed my supper there last night.  My sister had made a nice pizza with loads of toppings.  We had a few laughs together.  Family times are the best of times.  I came home afterwards,  it was more than a bit foggy and drizzly on the way home. I fed the cats and had a shower.  The cats are always anxious to get into the bathroom after.  I don't know what they think I am doing in there, but they are very curious about it, and both run in as soon as I open the bathroom door.  I watched some television, with lots of warm cuddles, and was in bed by 10. All comfy cozy.  My son woke me up at midnight with a Happy New Year message, but I fell back to sleep quickly and didn't wake up until this morning.

I have not let them come in to sleep with me yet.  They are too rambunctious.  Perhaps as they get older they will settle down more. I am sure they will.

They are great company . . .  for me  . . .  and for each other.

Happy New Year everyone. I hope it will be good to us.

A thought to carry with you  . . . 

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

 *When it rains look for rainbows.

When its dark look for stars.•。★★ 。* 。 

In The English Kitchen today  . . .  Coffee, Cardamom, Walnut Cakelettes.  Very tasty! 

Have a wonderful first day of 2022!  Be happy. Be blessed. Be well.  Don't forget! 

═══════════ღೋƸ̵̡Ӝ̵̨̄Ʒღೋ═══════════ 

⊰✿░G░O░D⊰✿⊰L░O░V░E░S⊰✿⊰░Y░O░U░⊰✿
═══════════ ღೋƸ̵̡Ӝ̵̨̄Ʒღೋ ═══════════

And I do too!