What’s something you would attempt if you were guaranteed not to fail.
Love him or loathe him, Donald Trump has successfully used mediators to bring about a peace plan for Gaza. I take my hat off to him for getting thus far.
Sadly, it is too late for the many souls who died, were injured, lost friends, their homes, and their communities. Whole regions wiped out, for what?
What would I attempt to do given I could not fail? It would be to get involved in mediation in international conflicts.
This poem was written during a war…
There will come soft rains and the smell of the ground, And swallows circling with their shimmering sound;
And frogs in the pools singing at night, And wild plum trees in tremulous white;
Robins will wear their feathery fire, Whistling their whims on a low fence-wire;
And not one will know of the war, not one Will care at last when it is done.
Not one would mind, neither bird nor tree, If mankind perished utterly;
And Spring herself, when she woke at dawn Would scarcely know that we were gone.
What was the hardest personal goal you’ve set for yourself?
You will be forgiven for glazing over today. Mostly, I like to keep my posts bite-sized but sometimes it’s impossible. It may be one of those days…
It’s interesting to read the replies to the DP’s. All our thoughts and memories in a big melting pot called living. How will my fellow bloggers define ‘ the hardest personal goal’ ?
Amongst them will be the souls who are just grateful to have survived this far. This I understand.
A few days back, we were asked how we would cope if we lost everything. I failed to mention the time I had walked away from home and a relationship with just the clothes on my back…Tough? Yes..
After a while, struggling to keep my head and dignity above water, I went overseas. I was away for years. When I did come back to the UK, I had a pup and an adult dog in tow. Street dogs I had bonded with and was not going to leave behind. ( Animals, I understand. Humans not so much.)
Luckily, I had managed to accumulate savings, but the flights for Tony and Joe from India. ( BA Cargo were stars) and six months in quarantine ( I believe things have changed since then) didn’t come cheap.
Having been a nanny at the top of my game and the mother of all references under my belt. I was sure it would help. And I had six months to find somewhere for us all to go. Right? I stayed in a small hotel in central London as I believed then it would be easier to go to and from interviews. I’d never be able to take a nanny role again with two dogs, but there were other jobs with tied accommodation I could do.
( I had to stay with my dad and his fourth wife at one point for a while = nightmare and another story which will remain buried. It was soul-destroying. Totally)
Despite being signed up to some fabulous and not so fabulous agencies ( another story or six) It took a year and the last of my savings to secure something for the dogs and me.
And so it went on forever, it seemed. I could have tugged my forelock and kept my head down and stayed in some jobs longer, but you know how it is.
To be fair, there was one lovely job with an elderly chap. I was gutted when he passed away. But I did get to keep his dog.
The jobs came and went, and I was with a difficult employer on a farming estate. All the other staff were obedient and had been there years. I simply couldn’t hack it.
And then it happened a complete fluke combined with stars aligned, and I finally managed to retire with the keys to a lovely rental, in the middle of dog walking nivarna and a landlady sent from the heavens.
A front door of our own, such a long time coming. Sure, I’ve had to tighten my belt, but things that make me happy cost nothing… Walks in the deepest of nature, birds bathing in the fresh and slightly warmed water I put out for them. Amazing skies, the sunset and sunrises, trees, smiles, and a few passing words with people on the street. All the dogs in the hood whose names I learn before their guardians. The changing seasons. Growing things, pottering around. Writing. Gratitude.
And then I have Patch. His Nibs 🐾🐾 who lives here rent free, because he can.
No sun–no moon! No morn–no noon! No dawn–no dusk–no proper time of day– No sky–no earthly view– No distance looking blue– No road–no street–no “t’other side this way”– No end to any Row– No indications where the Crescents go– No top to any steeple– No recognitions of familiar people– No courtesies for showing ’em– No knowing ’em! No traveling at all–no locomotion– No inkling of the way–no notion– “No go” by land or ocean– No mail–no post– No news from any foreign coast– No Park, no Ring, no afternoon gentility– No company–no nobility– No warmth, no cheerfulness, no healthful ease, No comfortable feel in any member– No shade, no shine, no butterflies, no bees, No fruits, no flowers, no leaves, no birds– November!
Tonight October 7th is the first of three consecutive supermoons. This lunar occurrence is rare. It happens when the full moon coincides with a moon being in the closest proximity to Earth.
The Corn, Barley and/or Harvest moon can sometimes be the same thing. Depending where you go for info.
Traditionally , the Harvest Moon is the one closest to the Autumn equinox around Sept 22nd. Which make it in September or October. October sounds late for harvesting, doesn’t it? That’s all been done and dusted for a while now.
The Hunters Moon, which October usually brings sounds more apt- the gathering of meat to store for the colder months. It’s easily done when the fields have been pretty much razed to the ground, and wildlife has nowhere to hide..no way of getting from A-B safely.
Tonight, it will be billed as The Harvest Supermoon…but it won’t stop hunters from going out, though, will it? 😭
You may remember me mentioning Tom Petty and The Heartbreakers once or twice before now. To that, I’ll add Post Malone, this time.
And my parchant for The Pre-Raphelites..today I will add Frédéric Leighton, who was around at the same time as the Brotherhood but had a complicated relationship with them. Maybe his style bothered them?
Flaming June, by Frédéric Leighton
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So, with the DP now answered, I have the time and space to post another favourite poem..yes I’ve posted this before, too. But why not?
Lesuire
WHAT is this life if, full of care, We have no time to stand and stare?—
No time to stand beneath the boughs, And stare as long as sheep and cows:
No time to see, when woods we pass, Where squirrels hide their nuts in grass:
No time to see, in broad daylight, Streams full of stars, like skies at night:
No time to turn at Beauty’s glance, And watch her feet, how they can dance:
No time to wait till her mouth can Enrich that smile her eyes began?
A poor life this if, full of care, We have no time to stand and stare.
Without one shadow of a doubt, writing is the answer to todays DP. Having said that, Emily Dickinson will take the stage with one of her beautiful poems.
Hope is the thing with Feathers
Hope” is the thing with feathers – That perches in the soul – And sings the tune without the words – And never stops – at all –
And sweetest – in the Gale – is heard – And sore must be the storm – That could abash the little bird That kept so many warm –
I’ve heard it in the chillest land – And on the strangest Sea – Yet – never – in Extremity, It asked a crumb – of me.
It’s so easy to become possessed by our possessions. ‘ Stuff’ just accumulates. It happens. But the older I get, the more miminalism appeals to me.
Two years back, when I was due to move home ( again) I had the luxury of the space, time, and the wherewithal to finally gather all my belongings together. ( Some had been in store for a long time)
There was an area in the garden used for composting and a fire pit. I went through old paperwork/admin with a fine toothcomb and burnt a pile. Old diaries, notebooks, negatives. So much hard copy.
William Morris once suggested that to have nothing in your home that is not beautiful or useful ( or words to that effect). I took that on board in a big way, and over a month or so gave at over half of my possessions to the Air Ambulance charity. Unwanted furniture and white goods collected by the British Heart Foundation. ( Yes, it does bother me the BHF suits take home fat pay checks – but it worked for me at the time). I gave boxes of lovely clothes to a young woman who I believed would appreciate them for her shop or sell online,help her family to pay some bills… ( After prompting from outside, she thanked me but never replied to a follow-up text( another story) Nice.
So, with less of everything, I moved to where I am now. I have gifted items, a few precious old photographs, a couple of pictures I love, and now just a tiny collection of books.
A ring left to me by my mom. 💜
There are a few pieces of clothes I like, and my multi- weather dog walking kit is invaluable. I have my birkies and odds and sods useful for my everyday existence.
I wear a piece of cremation jewellery. A small silver vial holding the ashes of a beautiful dog Tony, who once upon a time shared and shaped my life.
The rest you can have. Except Patch that is …and my tablet….or my wheels.
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