Monday, 10 January 2011

Slow down, you move too fast


You got to make the moment last.


The juxtaposition of the rising sun 
and this window will not provide 
spectacular skyscapes for much longer.



I see I'm a little earlier than last year,
but even so,
can it really be time to make marmalade again?



I've come to watch your flowers growing.




These hyacinths will be up and out before we know it.


And the children?





Just passing through.

Sunday, 9 January 2011

Heraldic blooms



 Amaryllis rampant.


Hyacinth couchant.


Freesia sejant.

All terms normally applied to the postures of lions
on a shield.

Saturday, 8 January 2011

The Long and Winding Road



Out to the country on our house quest again.
Feeling increasingly like Goldilocks,
we've seen,
 too cramped, too noisy, too musty,
too wrecked, too overlooked,
too gardenless.
I fear that 'just right' may not be achievable
and we must start to whittle away at our priorities.


Thursday, 6 January 2011

Let joy be unconfined


A happy and special addition to my King Penguin collection.



Well done O. You made it.

On with the dance!
Let joy be unconfined.
Lord Byron



Wednesday, 5 January 2011

Temporary installation



Faint pink chalk lines,
prettily scribing the sky,

or thousands of frail bodies
sedentary, sublime in sleek metal tubes
being flung out of the blue
to far destinations.

Tuesday, 4 January 2011

Laser cut



Tree and bird inked against a pale blue sky today.
Like a Rob Ryan artwork.

Monday, 3 January 2011

Final bow



The tree was felled today
shedding its needles until the hall was as
deep in them as the forest floor.
The ham, beef and goose
linger on only as tubs of frozen stock,
and the last of the mincemeat
went into an apple pie.


Chestnuts from the Christmas veg box 
were almost forgotten, but using our friend Bert's
method of boiling first for two minutes,
had their shining moment today.


Sunday, 2 January 2011

Will Nigel bounce?


If you've been listening to The Archers
for as long as I have
the signposts were in dayglo yellow
and had people shouting through loudhailers beneath them.

Glorious review for his Dame in the panto?
Touching gift of Mummy's brooch?
A banner on the roof?
'I'll just have to climb a little higher'?
Puhleese...

But maybe, just maybe,
they have a cunning plan.
I'm going to have to check the map of Ambridge
but could he have fallen into the treetop walkway?

You heard it here first.

Saturday, 1 January 2011

Papery sweet



A quarter past eight on a January evening...
The whole room was as equally and agreeably warm 
as a bath full of water.
Groups of freesias and papery sweet narcissi
and violets set about in silver mugs
gave out their delicious evasive
chorus of scent.

Another sweet no thing, this time from
The Rising Tide by Molly Keane.

Friday, 31 December 2010

2010 - A View





















Wherever you open your window,
I wish you a Happy New Year.

Thursday, 30 December 2010

Keaneing


A winter's morning. A sky like a dirty old slate.
Trees untidy, lead-coloured brushes against it.
The air full of snow and rain 
and the hour full of the absurd necessity of going out hunting.







At such a moment there is one thing impossible 
and that is to see a summer's day.
White flowers in the evening seem the only terms 
in which it can become remotely visible.
Say stephanotis in darkness.

from The Rising Tide by Molly Keane.

Embroidered table cloth from my grandma;
from the archives.
(The Manual and I are locked in mortal combat.)


Keening -
  a form of vocal lament associated with mourning
that is traditional in Scotland and Ireland.




Wednesday, 29 December 2010

There will now be


a short intermission.


I have a new camera.

The manual,
which I fondly imagined was only bulky because 
it was multi-lingual,
is in fact 211 pages of vital English directions.
Well I say English.
It might as well be Japanese for all the 
sense I can make of it.
It took me ten minutes to attach the shoulder strap
(see page 25).
There are sixty three pages of 'basic' instructions
but no glossary or index.

So far, local weather conditions,
dark, drear, dismal, dim,
have not allowed me to experience its full range of
cleverness but I have just chanced upon page 105
which offers night portrait, night scenery and
creative night scenery, 
so all is not lost.

Monday, 27 December 2010

Christmas passed



Well that was lovely.

Now I'm feeling a trifle peckish.
I wonder if it might be time for a little smackerel of something.
Cold bread sauce would just hit the spot.

Friday, 24 December 2010

Sunny Christmas Eve hall











The given-up-for-lost goose has arrived!
I can put the chicken nuggets back in the freezer.

Merry Christmas.