Monday, August 19, 2019

Little Moreton Hall

An amazing piece of historic architecture stands proudly on display in my home county of Cheshire, England.
 
 


Little Moreton Hall is arguably the finest half-timbered manor in England.
Built by Sir Richard de Moreton around 1450.
This spectacular like a fairy-tale manor, protected by a narrow moat. The house is built around an inner courtyard, reached through a projecting gatehouse. At the far side of the courtyard is the great hall, built by Sir Richard de Moreton around 1450. To the left are service wings, and to the right a chapel and solar, or private quarters for the lord and his family.

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Little_Moreton_Hall

Wednesday, August 14, 2019

Little Things That Make Me Smile

 "As the years pass, I am coming more and more to understand that it is the common, everyday blessings of our common everyday lives for which we should be particularly grateful."
                                                  ~Laura Ingalls Wilder
                                                                            
 
 



 

                                                         
 
 

Sunday, August 11, 2019

Summer's Gold


 

 "Oh, the summer night
Has a smile of light
And she sits on a sapphire throne."

- Barry Cornwall
 

Thursday, August 8, 2019

Foggy-Start

Our morning started with a heavy fog, one that didn't lift until well into the morning hours.
Heavy pop-storms are now the evening normal, and lightning quivers in the night sky.
 
Down on Main Street there are signs of seasons-changing, Autumn wares and being displayed.
The last of the Summer flowers are steadfastly holding on...
 
 
 

 
 
 
 

Sunday, August 4, 2019

Motionless

 



The first week of August hangs at the very top of summer, the top of the live-long year, like the highest seat of a Ferris wheel when it pauses in its turning. The weeks that come before are only a climb from balmy spring, and those that follow a drop to the chill of autumn, but the first week of August is motionless, and hot. It is curiously silent, too, with blank white dawns and glaring noons, and sunsets smeared with too much color. Often at night there is lightning, but it quivers all alone. "

~Natalie Babbitt, Tuck Everlasting

 
 

Thursday, August 1, 2019

August Days

August days are here.
Schoolchildren return to classes, the days now eerily quiet.
County fairs are in full swing, fun, food and frolic.
Summer days seem noticeably shorter.
And brilliant sunsets, light up the night sky.
The ebb and flow of seasons continue.

 
 
 
 
  
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 

 
 
"Fairest of the months!
Ripe summer's queen
The hey-day of the year
With robes that gleam with sunny sheen
Sweet August doth appear."

           -  R. Combe Miller

Friday, July 26, 2019

Memories



Not one day passes, without I reflect on how I was raised.
I was fortunate to spend endless hours with a grandma who loved to take me along wherever she went, as  a result of that,  I was able to experience a grown up world through a child's eyes..

My grandma Ciss owned a bakery for thirty six years, each morning at seven sharp, she began her bread-baking, and sweet confectionaries. The tea-kettle whistled on the hob all day long, serving endless cups of tea to visitors throughout the day.
Policemen (bobbies) walked the foot-beat back then, and "Cissy's" bakery was the place to offer a sit-down, and enjoy a custard tart and a nice cup of tea. She was well loved  for her generosity.
I helped in her bakery since I was old enough to walk, doing all kinds of chores, from peeling bucket loads of potatoes for the meat and potato pies, serving the customers,  to delivering the freshly baked loaves of bread each day.




On Monday, her day off, we would ride the double-decker bus into Liverpool, and deposit her weekly earnings into the Littlewood's Bank. My grandmother loved Liverpool, it was her place of birth, a bustling city, with all that a city has to offer.




After shopping and eating lunch in John Lewis department store, we would make our way to the Pier Head at the River Mersey, and board a ferry boat to New Brighton, I'd play in the sand with my bucket and spade, and Ciss would sit and feed the seagulls. As the sun dipped below the horizon, we'd make our return ferry ride back to the mainland, and head home on the bus.
Simple days spent with my grandma, nurtured and loved, innocence and childhood going hand in hand.
I miss her with a passion.





Tuesday, July 23, 2019

Summertime Napping

 
 
 
Cats sleep, anywhere,
Any table, any chair
Top of piano, window-ledge,
In the middle, on the edge,
Open drawer, empty shoe,
Anybody's lap will do,
Fitted in a cardboard box,
In the cupboard, with your frocks-
Anywhere! They don't care!
       Cats sleep anywhere.     
                    
~ Eleanor Farjeon (1881)

Sunday, July 21, 2019

The Dog Days Of Summer

Dog Days defines a time period or event that is very hot or stagnant, or marked by dull lack of progress. The name comes from the ancient belief that Sirius, also called the Dog Star, was somehow responsible for the hot weather.
Either way, we seem to have hit that mark.

As with most of the country we are under a heat advisory for the next few days, 95 degrees and 100 degrees plus with the humidity factor figured in.
If you can avoid staying outside especially for long periods of time, then it is best to do so.

Even the birds have taken to their nests...……










Thursday, July 18, 2019

And Then There Were Three

I was up and at 'em at first light this morning.
Just in time to catch our resident deer and the new fawns, rambling about the garden.
All sprightly and full of play.
One fawn belongs to another doe, but seems to prefer the company of it's deer cousins.