Monday, January 23, 2012
The summer nests uncovered by autumn wind.
Some torn, others dislodged, all dark.
Everyone sees them: low or high in tree,
Or hedge, or single bush, they hang like a mark.
Since there's no need of eyes to see them with
I cannot help a little shame
That I missed most, even at eye's level, till
The leaves blew off and made the seeing no game.
'Tis a light pang. I like to see the nests
Still in their places, now first known,
At home and by far roads. Boys knew them not,
Whatever jays and squirrels may have done.
And most I like the winter nests deep-hid
That leaves and berries fell into;
Once a dormouse dined there on hazel-nuts,
And grass and goose-grass seeds found soil and grew.
~ Edward Thomas (1878-1917 / London / England)
Friday, January 20, 2012
"The tree which moves some to tears of joy,
Is in the eyes of others only a green thing that stands in the way.
Some see Nature all ridicule and deformity, and some scarce see
Nature at all.
But to the eyes of the man of imagination, Nature is Imagination itself."
Wednesday, January 18, 2012
Putting things back in their place.
Wiping away winter dust.
Hanging dried roses from shelves.
"Winter is the time of promise because there is so little to do - or because you can now and then permit yourself the luxury of thinking so."
Tuesday, January 17, 2012
The Tennessee Valley endured a sleepless night of horrendous winds, today was filled with much of the same, tornado sirens, trees uprooted, and roofs blown off.
Thankfully there was no loss of life.
The morning mists settled over the drenched landscape, a serene yet eerily silent mirage, showing little sign of earlier ruination.
Oliver thought it best to watch all the mayhem from indoors.
We reached a balmy 65 degrees here today, not your typical January weather.
Late afternoon the wild turkeys came a trotting, since the young poults are now grown, the flock has grown to forty six.
There seems to be a lot of flapping wings and flaring tails, in an effort to show dominance amongst the males.
Sunday, January 15, 2012
I have a love for old Victorian paintings, in particular paintings that depict scenes of children with their pets in playful settings.
The popular work of English artist Sir Arthur Elsley ( 1860-1952 ) being one of my most favorites.
All of his paintings feature children with animals, dogs, horses, kittens and puppies, and are true to life situations.
His works were so popular during his lifetime that many of his paintings were reproduced as prints, and were often used in calendars, advertisements, books and magazines.
Thursday, January 12, 2012
Wednesday, January 11, 2012
This morning it was so foggy, the mailbox wasn't even visible.
Days such as these I get the urge to stay inside and accomplish a little spring cleaning, and so before noon I found myself up to my elbows in sudsy water, and Brasso cleaner.
Shelf-pottery and knick-knacks were bathed, copper and silverware shined.
I know, it is the depth of winter, but that's how I work, either I'm a little behind or a little in front of schedule, nevertheless I give myself a pat on the back for simply making the effort.
Tuesday, January 10, 2012
Friday, January 6, 2012
At the war front, life intensifies for Downton's young men in the face of untold horrors. Meanwhile, at Downton, war makes new and often unjust demands. Some rise to its call for a stiff upper lip and a useful turn, and others see change as an opportunity for either growth or exploitation. Far from the trenches, there remains no shortage of scheming, meddling, and dangerous attractions.
As other great houses crumble, a diminished Downton Abbey struggles to prevail into a new era with its residents and its honor intact.
Airing January 8, 15, 22, 29 and February 5,12, & 19 on PBS
Check local listings
Wednesday, January 4, 2012
Tuesday, January 3, 2012
I was gifted a beautiful enameled, cast-iron dutch-oven at Christmas, something I had placed on my "Wish List".
The prettiest cobalt-blue finish, and heavy as a sack of coal.
I have no idea how Father Christmas managed to squeeze it down the chimney.
My first masterpiece was a wholesome pot of navy bean, cabbage, and smoked sausage soup. Slowly simmered to perfection, and devoured with a slice or two of buttermilk cornbread.
I'm leaving the tartan tablecloth in place for a little while longer, the colors warm and inviting, giving dull Winter days, a much needed splash of vibrancy.