Showing posts with label cake. Show all posts
Showing posts with label cake. Show all posts

Wednesday, May 20, 2020

Stuff from Morning Pages.

30th April 2020

Bits from my journal 28th April

The days run into each other a bit at the moment, 
not all exactly alike,   but samey nevertheless. 
I didn't sleep much last night.
Possibly it was because of an insect bite 
that I got on my knee
 when we went to the woods yesterday. 
Got through my thick jeans, of so. 
Or maybe it was the chicken. 
Anyways, it was quite a good day in all, 
starting with The Writer's Hour 
first thing in the  morning.

I love it 
Something creative occurs 
with a little nudge
And nobody's going to 
critique or judge.
While I find I'm in
A scene, a moment, lost
I find an hour gone by
at no extra cost.
It make me focus
on the words before me 
If there's any distraction
I don't tend  to see.
I've written more words 
in just three days
Than in a whole month
trying other ways.
So, I'll turn up tomorrow
And the next day too
for as long as it's offered
I'll know what to do.
I might even get finished
my memoir this year
A definite possibility
I'll let out a cheer.

Later that morning, not that I felt like it, I went with my hubs and daughter to get Dog food for our little puppy. He'd been making do for a while as we were not able to get out because of the virus. 
Observing social distancing my daughter waited her turn to go into Pets at Home, while hubby walked puppy round the car park. I sat in the car, with the sun warming my shoulders, reading. 
Bliss...
Another daughter lives near, so we went to wave at the grandchildren. 
For about twenty minutes we chatted to the six of them and their Dad. 
It lifted my spirits, made my day,
and I think, by the looks on their faces, 
by the stories they shared, eagerly,
 that they liked it too.
One day, someday, 
I'll be able to hug them again,
 sit with them on my lap again, 
nuzzle my face into their hair 
and smell the coconut shampoo again 
 I can't wait... 
Mum was doing an online  course and didn't even know we'd called.

We left their house and headed for the woods, 
me still on cloud nine, all senses heightened, we chatted, we laughed about our few minutes of pure joy with the kids. 

To get to the woods, we amble through a field, 
two butterflies, like brown leaves dance a tango
fly, this way, that way, 
in the distance a farmhouse, white behind green trees,
love to live there,
and now peace, 
no hum of traffic, 
no hum of people, 
other sounds creep upon us,
insects, birds, 
we stop to listen
our own breath,
the rustle of leaves.
The woody aroma fills our lungs.
I count four huge oak trees
their branches - a picture 
of strength- comforting.
Bluebell, Forest, England, Spring


Silver birches, ashes, alders,
hawthorn bushes
and in the clearings,
bluebells spread like 
picnic blankets
with shafts of light like
slabs of lemon drizzle cake,
dotted with small clusters
of delicate, pink woodland
flowers at the edge
of the paths .


Image result for pictures of bluetits feeding youngTwo bluetits fly between 
the branches 
one, a baby and the other the parent
 feeding it.






A little grey squirrel 
scurries round the  
trunk of a thick oak.
I walk, I ponder
I think, I pray
I'm so lucky.
Yes, Lord, it's been a good day.
Thank you. 







Friday, May 15, 2020

Lockdown Coffee

15th May 2020


It's Friday again. I know the weekend is coming mainly because there is no Writer's Hour on Saturday or Sunday. So what happen's? Well, what happens is I do no writing,or very little. I might do some morning pages, but that's about it.

And I miss it , I really do. Some mornings I wake up and think shall I stay in bed for a bit longer and not do it this morning, rest my tired bones,  but then something compels me to get out and get at it. It's my great motivator and one of the blessings of being in lockdown. This morning a friend from Buckinghamshire ( you know who you are) joined us and thoroughly enjoyed it.




Coffee

She sits at the dining room table,
 her computer set up,  notebook and pen,  
a mug of instant beside her
 and it gets me to thinking...

I miss the aroma -  exciting, enticing, inviting 
I miss it wafting around me, witching it's way 
into my dna,
It lures  me in, it says: 
 I'm here for you, we have a date you and I
you know you love me
I'm here, waiting for you, 
 I'm dark , I'm rich, I'm strong,  come on. 

I miss the steps, I know them well 
that take me  through the green door
I miss the welcome awaiting me  
the laughter, the din, music  on low, 
I miss the view from the window
the pier head sitting on the horizon, 
I miss the young girl, Cara, 
who is at uni, lives in halls
has left a boyfriend at home 
two hundred miles away
I miss, all this, 
my favourite place, 
For coffee.

No weak Aldi granules here,
 poured into one lonely mug
no sitting behind  closed doors,
 staring sleepily into space
hollow blank face, 
wondering what the hell's  going on
what is it that's so wrong,
 out there in the world. 
Are there people who  are happy, 
in another distant place?  
Have they found a cafe open for,
A coffee

Image result for picture of having coffee in a cafe




 





I miss those days when I'd take my book
find my nook,
 in the corner by the window
position myself so I could see the 
 people passing by,  
turn my shoulders just a little 
so the sun warms me from the outside in,
Then, when perfectly relaxed,
I'd 
 drink my coffee
delicious Cappucino,


I miss meeting friends for a catch up 
when we'd all have our different requests
always latte for Di, with a slice of cake,
"A slither of cake with my coffee," she jests 
A Mocca for Mary
Her coffee

I miss those days before lockdown 
when a frown, 
didn't bring you down 
When getting together, put back your smile, 
and all this while, you enjoyed a coffee.
I miss those days , in so many ways,
meeting friends, was a normal thing
But Mr Corona Virus  has been hard at work
 has us all tied up, dangling on the end of his string
Until cafes open, no
Real coffee

We do have a percolator and some coffee beans to go with it.
But it's not quite the same as making arrangements to go out for a cappucino. 

What do you miss in the lockdown?



Friday, January 15, 2016

Poetry Tea Time


Poetry Tea Time


Today is my birthday. I am sixty two years young. Four years ago when a health scare brought the fact of my mortality a little near to the beating of my heart, I found that, actually death is nothing to be afraid of. Living, now that's another matter. To live well and enjoy the life we have is sometimes a struggle , but always a blessing.
I have more and more been trying to live in each moment, appreciating the beauty that is ever before me, whether it's in nature or in the lives of the many people that make up my wonderful family.

Today, I have had numerous messages from family and friends, a few presents to enjoy and the company of children, grandchildren and a great grandchild as well as a friend who popped round with some stuff not realising it was my birthday and happily joined the celebration.

My favourite moments were this evening when we had "Poetry Tea Time" at Grams's house. It was fabulous. The idea is :
We bring to the table , a teapot ( full of tea) , pretty cups , saucers and tea plates, lots of homemade cakes (the making of which had already given hours of pleasure), crisps and most important of all lots of poetry books. While we eat cake and drink tea we  take turns to read ( or if the child is too young to read, they might "tell") poems that we have selected ourselves. It is interesting how keen the children are to choose their own book and read poems they've chosen themselves.  I was so proud of them all. And you all know what I think of sharing  poetry together.
So much joy was had by all .
And at the end they all sang Happy Birthday to me.