The Dead Woman If suddenly you do not exist, if suddenly you no longer live, I shall live on. I do not dare, I do not dare to write it, if you die. I shall live on. For where a man has no voice, th…
Fresh little snippets of poems for breakfast … Deliciously selected from a collection compiled by the Poetry Translation Centre….discovered and shared by Anthony Wilson. A rare treat…
I am at a thing.
Canals are there. Sunlight on them, the last tourists, a shifting of the seasons. ‘Soon it will be autumn…’
Hellos are happening, old ones, catching up on five year’s of news; and goodbyes, too. Kissing ‘take care’ in a foreign land. A test for all of us, of trust, of hope, of what will happen to a child when we are no longer there.
It does not get easier.
Softening the blow is the view. I mean, maybe the view, all of humanity passing below us, others’ lives fluidly within reach, beautiful, passing, never the same twice.
Into this rich space we drag our tired bodies and minds. We have buried a friend. We have sat in silence. And now we are here.
At which precise point, there on the coffee table, from out of the corner, my eye catches this, a fat and…
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What a good idea… Note what brings us joy and have those notes handy for those grey, sad moments. Why not get a pretty notebook, small enough to slip in a pocket or handbag? Even stick little things like a feather, or a ticket for a concert that was good…
Yesterday, a very kind man asked me to name three things recently that have brought me joy. I was a bit down in the dumps (to put it very, very mildly), it wasn’t an out of the blue question.
“My son. My kids. They bring me joy. They’re so funny, if you just listen to them and their funny little ways, the questions they ask, the gratefulness for small things (sometimes), the kids, they laugh so much. They bring me joy.”
He nodded, and gestured for me to carry on.
“And… The day before yesterday I found a tiny white feather on the ground. My son spotted it and said it was a feather from Grandad. He said Grandad left it there for him so he would know he was still with him. He’s four. He’s lost a lot in his short life, he seems to have a…
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This sounds like the answer to my prayers. I’m often faced with the dilemma of what to do with bananas that are over-ripe….this could be the solution.
What do you do when you have a pile of black bananas sitting in the fruit bowl? I don’t even know how this happens – I generally work from home, bananas are my go-to snack because I can reach them and don’t have to do anything except peel them and shove them in, yet all too often my darling other half leaves a small pile of them on the chopping board with a hint to Do Something About Them. Sometimes they get sliced and flung in the oven to make dried bananas for the kids, sometimes I whizz them with yoghurt, milk and oats for a breakfast smoothie, but today I fancied neither of those things. It’s freezing. And raining a bit. And I’m a bit tired and gloomy. What I wanted…
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The WordPress.com stats helper monkeys prepared a 2014 annual report for this blog.
Here’s an excerpt:
A San Francisco cable car holds 60 people. This blog was viewed about 470 times in 2014. If it were a cable car, it would take about 8 trips to carry that many people.
Really interesting – travel and history combined. Makes me want to put Norway on my list of places to visit. That is, when I get over my fear of flying…..
For centuries there was production of millstones in these mountains, now a national park. The production in Kvernfjellet (The millstone mountains) started sometime during the 1500s, and lasted until 1914. There have been many sites for millstone productions in Norway during history, but this was the biggest with more than 1000 quarries. For some centuries this area supplied more or less all the country with these stones. In the 1800smostof the bread eatenin Noway was bakedfrom flourmade withthes stones, that is mica-schist scattered with 2-5mm large crystals of hard minerals. In the picture above is a broken millstone left in the mountains.
Millstones were needed to grind grain, our most important food source, in Norway as in so many countries. There have been a lot of scientific work on these sites lately. A multidisiplinary research project involving geologists, archaelogists, historians, botanists, geographers and…
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It’s really cold and windy this morning. On days like this I know I live on the westernmost point of Brittany, where the land juts out undefended into the wild, wintery Atlantic ocean.
Trapped indoors by the weather, it is time to cook, read, keep warm, hibernate. A glut of apples led to an afternoon of baking. The apples were a mixture of windfalls collected on nice autumn walks and “other found” apples (more on that in another post).