Many years ago I read something my mother had cut out of a newspaper. I've thought about it occasionally and wondered if I still had it. I've been going through a tub of photos and memorabilia lately, and was so pleased to come upon the clipping.
If you are not religious, please do not be put off with the fact it is a prayer. The words are most meaningful, and truly are a guide to living as we get older. There is great wisdom and humor.
I looked it up on the internet and found out that it is a seventeenth century anonymous nun's prayer.
Blackbirds! The red-winged blackbirds came today when we'd just had a big snowstorm. They ate from the feeders, and the food spread on the ground.
These aren't the world's best pictures because I had the zoom on and they were taken through the front door windows, but you get the idea. I counted two or three times and got 24. What do you think? Do they travel in groups of 24? Why does the old rhyme say 24?
From the British television series, Born and Bred. So very worth buying from Amazon UK. If you are in the US, you need to have a DVD player that plays shows that were made in Britain. There are some listed here.
The younger doctor says to his father, also a doctor.
"Oh, Dad, it's sometimes all so difficult."
Father: "Nobody ever said life was easy. Frustrating maybe. Exciting, sometimes. Heartbreaking. Ridiculous. Never easy. But always worth it."
This warm weather is bringing the chickens outdoors again, and they were delighted to find that we are feeding the birds again! They often eat right alongside the ground feeders - mourning doves, blue jays, sparrows, and crows.
I had to take the photo through the door window. It is on a bit of a zoom. Not very clear, but you get the idea. There are a few more chickens who haven't stopped by the new feeding station yet, but I expect they will in time.
Did you see this on the Grammys? I LOVE this song, and I've ordered the record Ripcord. I bet you can't stay in your chair while you listen! (Sorry there's an ad)
One of the things that goes along with the shift from agricultural to urban in this country is that the old sayings most likely make no sense to someone who has never been in a farm or rural environment. Take this product, for instance.
A lot has changed since 1886. I'm glad they decided to keep the slogan on the can for old time's sake. What it means is that when chicks first come out of the eggs, it is a little while before they 'scratch' - before they begin to use their claws to rake the bedding material. Chickens spend a lot of their time scratching up the soil for food, and probably that first scratching is an innate knowledge of what they need to do to survive.
So, for a product that promises not to scratch your sink, this is the perfect saying. There's a nice page about the company here.
I've read that more people in cities and bigger towns are raising chickens now, so maybe the saying will be better understood in the populace. I certainly didn't know what it meant until we began keeping chickens all those years ago. Incidentally, we have new chickens arriving in May. I've written about the experience here on the blog.
Not the world's best photographs but top to bottom are the icicles out the north window. In the last one, you can see that they are touching the ground. It took three pictures to get them in because they were so long!
Tom and I are so sad that Stuart McLean has died. We have spent some of our best times listening to the Vinyl Cafe, entering into the lives of Dave and Morley and the kids. His voice was so perfect. He told stories that seemed as real as could be. He seemed like a friend who just happened to be on the radio. "Come and get me, copper" is a phrase that sets us laughing every time someone in the family says it.
There is an obituaryhere, and amazing social media tributes here. He will be sorely missed in this world.
As I was reading my Oldie magazine this morning, I saw a cartoon that I wanted to post to the blog. I wrote to the cartoonist, Crowden Satz, and asked about using it. For a small charge, he optimized it for me so it would look good here. I think it is just the best cartoon.
Taken at the Flood - book 27 in the Hercule Poirot series
by Agatha Christie mystery 1948 kindle finished 1/16/17 The book cover picture comes from my one of my Agatha Christie reference books,
which has this to say:
Agatha uses the speech in her epigraph: There is a tide in the affairs of men, Which, taken at the flood, leads on to fortune; Omitted, all the voyage of their life Is bound in shallows and in miseries. On such a full sea are we now afloat, And we must take the current when it serves, Or lose our ventures. It has been ages since I've read an Agatha book, and the old familiar feeling came back as soon as I began; that feeling of ah, I can completely sit back and relax because my reading is in the hands of a master. She really can tell a tale better than almost anyone. As they say, even her worst writing is better than most people's good writing. Her intelligence, her good sense when it comes to characters, her settings all combine to make a great reading experience. Another of my reference books
says that the bombing in the book comes from the bombing of her own house in London during the war. The houses right around hers were "completely flattened," while hers suffered only external damage. Most of the contents were fine. Just this kind of randomness happens in Taken at the Flood. The twenty-four year old Rosaleen married the sixty-two year old Gordon Cloade and two weeks later a blast
blew the basement in and ripped off the roof. First floor practically wasn't touched. Six people in the house. Three servants: married couple and a housemaid, Gordon Cloade, his wife and the wife's brother. They were all down in the basement except the wife's brother...
The only survivors were the wife and her brother who come to the family estate in Warmsley Vale. Gordon did not make a new will in those two weeks of married life, so his family who were to be the beneficiaries now receive nothing because his old will is 'revoked by his marriage.' I was amazed at this law - that the wife automatically got the money. What hardships this placed on the family.
The rich, childless man had taken all his relatives completely under his wing. ... Yes, they had all depended on Gordon Cloade. Not that any of the family had been spongers or idlers. Jeremy Cloade was senior partner in a firm of solicitors, Lionel Cloade was in practice as a doctor. But behind the workaday life was the comforting assurance of money in the background. There was never any need to stint or to save. The future was assured.
A stranger comes to town saying that perhaps the first husband is still alive, which would of course make Rosaleen's second marriage invalid, and the money would all go to the family. Or if she died, the same thing would occur.
I read this for the
and I took special note of life in the third year after the end of the war. The young Wren who had done overseas service is thrilled to come home again ... for about three days.
And already a curious dissatisfied restlessness was creeping over her. It was all the same - almost too much all the same - the house and Mums and Rowley and the farm and the family. The thing that was different was herself....
And her mother's life
Except for a rather unreliable woman who came four mornings a week, Mrs. Marchmont was alone in the house, struggling with cooking and cleaning. ... The small but adequate fixed income which had kept them going comfortably before the war was now almost halved by taxation. Rates, expenses, wages had all gone up.
A farmer says
"I'm only just keeping my head above water as it is. And what with not knowing what this damned Government is going to do next - hampered at every turn - snowed under with forms, up to midnight trying to fill them in sometimes - it's too much for one man."
There is mention of an 'ill will' and 'ill feeling' that is everywhere.
On railways and buses and in shops and amongst workers and clerks and even agricultural laborers.
The book offers such a strong sense of English life in 1948. The atmosphere is almost a character in the story. The characters' actions and reactions are in response to the social, monetary, and political situation of the post-war years. I really enjoyed the book and learned so much.
Listen to the Exhortation of the Dawn! Look to this Day! For it is Life, the very Life of Life. In its brief course lie all the Verities and Realities of your Existence. The Bliss of Growth, The Glory of Action, The Splendor of Beauty; For Yesterday is but a Dream, And To-morrow is only a Vision; But To-day well lived makes Every Yesterday a Dream of Happiness, And every Tomorrow a Vision of Hope. Look well therefore to this Day! Such is the Salutation of the Dawn!
Kalidasa, Indian sanskrit poet and dramatist - 5th century AD
The Crofter & The Laird by John McPhee nonfiction 1969 print finished 1/19/17 The Crofter and The Laird has been in our library for decades. I’ve often looked at it and wondered if I’d like to read it, but I’ve never actually picked it up. It was published in 1969, 1970. The reason for the two dates is that it was published in The New Yorker magazine first, and then was ‘developed with the editorial counsel of William Shawn, Robert Bingham, andC.P. Crow.’
The author begins the book with
The Scottish clan that I belong to - or would belong to if it were now anything more than a sentimental myth - was broken a great many generations ago by a party of MacDonalds, who hunted down the last chiefof my clan, captured him, refused him mercy, saying that a man who had never shown mercy should not ask for it, tied him to a standing stone, and shot him.
That standing stone was on the Scottish island of Colonsay. McPhee brings his wife and four daughters over to live there for a time. He weaves together the past and the present, teaching us local history andshowing us what life is like. At the time of the book there were 138 people on the island, and today there are 135 people. Amazing that fifty years laterthe population is the same especially because the crofters of the late sixties feared the young would leave and never come back. Some must have stayed, and perhaps others have moved there. There are a lot ofactivities that weren’t going on in the time of the book, for example festivals, and honey production. There is still a laird, and I found an article where he helped save the only pub five years ago. There is a tremendous amount of gossip that goes on. The author is told there is no mental illness on Colonsay, probably due to the degree of gossiping.
‘There is apparently a point at which gossip can become so intensely commonplace that it is not only beyond hurting anone but is, in fact, a release.'
McPhee shares some of this gossip with the reader, using a great device whereby he notes the words of several people, listed one after another without mentioning anyone’s name. This particular topic went on for two pages. “Donald Garvard is generous man. He would lend his last hundred pounds.” “He comes in like a bit of a breeze.” “He’s a hail fellow.” “He has a strong, Highland sense of humor."
If you have an interest in Scottish island life from almost fifty years ago, this is your book. And if it isn’t a topic that you are particularly interested in, you may find yourself drawn into the book. I so enjoyed it. This is my second choice for
When we were in our twenties, Tom remarked on the fact that we now had adult memories; that we could look back and see a past. That doesn’t happen in your teens. It seems to be a perception, a knowledge that occurs when one is a twenty-something.
My favorite Pink Floyd song tells of this experience, and I happened to see that Roger Waters, who wrote the lyrics, came to the realization when he was 28 or 29.
This song is about how time can slip by, but many people do not realise it until it is too late. Roger Waters got the idea when he realised he was no longer preparing for anything in life, but was right in the middle of it.
"Time"
Ticking away the moments that make up a dull day
Fritter and waste the hours in an off-hand way
Kicking around on a piece of ground in your home town
Waiting for someone or something to show you the way
Tired of lying in the sunshine staying home to watch the rain
You are young and life is long and there is time to kill today
And then one day you find ten years have got behind you
No one told you when to run, you missed the starting gun
And you run and you run to catch up with the sun but it's sinking
Racing around to come up behind you again
The sun is the same in a relative way, but you're older
Shorter of breath and one day closer to death
Every year is getting shorter, never seem to find the time
Plans that either come to naught or half a page of scribbled lines
Hanging on in quiet desperation is the English way
The time is gone, the song is over, thought I'd something more to say
Home, home again
I like to be here when I can
When I come home cold and tired
It's good to warm my bones beside the fire
Far away, across the fields
The tolling of the iron bell
Calls the faithful to their knees
To hear the softly spoken magic spell
One of my very early posts spotlighted the first Keane album. A song from it that expresses this same twenties experience is Somewhere Only We Know.
I walked across an empty land
I knew the pathway like the back of my hand
I felt the earth beneath my feet
Sat by the river, and it made me complete
Oh, simple thing, where have you gone?
I'm getting old, and I need something to rely on
So tell me when you're gonna let me in
I'm getting tired, and I need somewhere to begin
I came across a fallen tree
I felt the branches of it looking at me
Is this the place we used to love?
Is this the place that I've been dreaming of?
Oh, simple thing, where have you gone?
I'm getting old, and I need something to rely on
So tell me when you're gonna let me in
I'm getting tired, and I need somewhere to begin
And if you have a minute, why don't we go
Talk about it somewhere only we know?
This could be the end of everything
So why don't we go
Somewhere only we know?
Oh, simple thing, where have you gone?
I'm getting old, and I need something to rely on
So tell me when you're gonna let me in
I'm getting tired, and I need somewhere to begin
And if you have a minute, why don't we go
Talk about it somewhere only we know?
This could be the end of everything
So why don't we go?
So why don't we go?
This could be the end of everything
So why don't we go
Somewhere only we know
Somewhere only we know
Somewhere only we know?
Adele’s latest album 25 is described here and there’s that same theme.
"Million Years Ago"
I only wanted to have fun
Learning to fly learning to run
I let my heart decide the way
When I was young
Deep down I must have always known
That this would be inevitable
To earn my stripes I'd have to pay
And bare my soul
I know I'm not the only one
Who regrets the things they've done
Sometimes I just feel it's only me
Who can't stand the reflection that they see
I wish I could live a little more
Look up to the sky not just the floor
I feel like my life is flashing by
And all I can do is watch and cry
I miss the air, I miss my friends
I miss my mother, I miss it when
Life was a party to be thrown
But that was a million years ago
When I walk around all of the streets
Where I grew up and found my feet
They can't look me in the eye
It's like they're scared of me
I try to think of things to say
Like a joke or a memory
But they don't recognize me now
In the light of day
I know I'm not the only one
Who regrets the things they've done
Sometimes I just feel it's only me
Who never became who they thought they'd be
I wish I could live a little more
Look up to the sky not just the floor
I feel like my life is flashing by
And all I can do is watch and cry
I miss the air I miss my friends
I miss my mother I miss it when
Life was a party to be thrown
But that was a million years ago
A million years ago
This post was prompted by an Ed Sheeran video I watched this morning. I thought, oh my gosh, this really is a ‘thing.’ It is a life truth that when we’ve had a few years of living, we look back to see where we came from and what shaped us and how the time goes by.
"Castle on the Hill"
When I was six years old I broke my leg
I was running from my brother and his friends
And tasted the sweet perfume of the mountain grass I rolled down
I was younger then, take me back to when I
Found my heart and broke it here
Made friends and lost them through the years
And I’ve not seen the roaring fields in so long, I know I’ve grown
But I can’t wait to go home.
I’m on my way
Driving at 90 down those country lanes
Singing to “Tiny Dancer”
And I miss the way you make me feel, and it’s real
We watched the sunset over the castle on the hill
Fifteen years old and smoking hand-rolled cigarettes
Running from the law through the back fields and getting drunk with my friends
Had my first kiss on a Friday night, I don’t reckon I did it right
But I was younger then, take me back to when
We found weekend jobs, when we got paid
We’d buy cheap spirits and drink them straight
Me and my friends have not thrown up in so long, oh how we’ve grown
But I can’t wait to go home
I’m on my way
Driving at 90 down those country lanes
Singing to “Tiny Dancer”
And I miss the way you make me feel, and it’s real
