Pleasant Valley

After sadly saying No to the house with this peaceful view -

the reality being the impossible to ignore

 roar of an A road beneath -

we set our backs to the traffic

and found some quiet in the pleasant valley. 

Pruning

In the end I decided it was time to prune the roses.

 And in the doing, I noticed that Spring

had continued

to unfold.

I've stopped looking for the missing piece of the jigsaw.
One day the picture will be complete.

Ganbare*

Spring air

Woven moon

And plum scent

Spring too, very soon!

They are setting the scene for it -

plum tree and moon.

Matsuo Basho

I was taught a new word today

by our son's host mother in Japan.

'Ganbare!'

A rallying cry, to encourage one another -

it means,

'Do your best!'

Running away

to join the circus.

I seem to have lost a piece of my jigsaw.

I'll be back when I've found it.

Symbol of the times

This old biscuit tin is one of those things

 that was just always around at home,

mostly hidden from view in a cupboard.

I stopped seeing it long ago.

It contains the most beautiful jigsaw,

the Circus Jigsaw.

But today, for the first time 

I stopped seeing it as the Circus Jigsaw tin

and noticed the lid with its

rain splashed

daffodils, lilac, anemones and ranunculus

and thought it was time it had its five minutes of fame.

The brand was Symbol Biscuits (1944)

with an elephant head logo and

Never Forget in gold on the side.

Once they held forty different types of 

sweet dry and savoury biscuits.

Now tins like these serve out their days

demoted to less glamorous duties -

(shoe polish and string holding chief amongst them)

until a house clearance brings them out into 

a world that eschews biscuit assortments,

but gives them new life as vintage chic accessories.

Priorities

With my mind fogged by domestic trivia :

the dimmer switch snapped for the second time,

kitchen lights blazing all night in the on position, naturally,

the CO detector shrillingly, unstoppably,

 beeping its power failure 

once a minute,

the rejection of my parking fine appeal

to take to the next tedious stage,

the parcels to return with their disappointing contents,

the parcel delivery missed 

during my brief foray into the back garden:

it took a real effort of will to notice and appreciate

that the sun was properly shining

and the crocuses and pussy willow

were trying really hard to please me.


And please don't let's even mention estate agents.

Downsizing

Where am I going to put all my

New rooms

Even if you never find the house of your dreams

you can have the house, many houses,

in your imagination.

And in those houses there are many rooms,

all waiting to be furnished and decorated.

I have a recurrent dream, perhaps it is a common one,

where I am in a house that I know well, 

 it is my own house apparently -

but I happen upon a room 

that I have either never visited,

or somehow forgotten.

Usually it is large and light,

with tall windows and fine views,

filled with beautiful furniture and fabrics,

all of which I recognise as mine.

Sometimes it has a fascinating attic,

stuffed with treasures,

it might have a garden 

with a stream running through it.

I am delighted to rediscover these houses

and sometimes a passage in a book 

brings them faintly back to my waking life.

Those pale light rooms opening out of one another,

full of bright chintzes and spring flowers -

tulips and broom and irises and rhododendron -

were at last really different from the old rooms

with their shut and curtained doors,

red carpets and rich dark covers

and tiny scattered vases of flowers.

Rising Tide by Molly Keane

Sun bathing

Late afternoon and a sunny interval

lengthened and brightened into brilliant

spring illumination. 

It felt like being awakened from

a rather dreary dream.

Even this squirrel took a little moment

to sun bathe.