Archive | December 2016

Last December Blog …

Last December Blog 2016/First January Blog 2017.

The Demise of the Year.

The passing of yet another,
Flown by, carelessly or unknown,
We worried that Spring was not coming,
Forlornly, we sat all alone,
Watching the raindrops pitter, patter
Upon a dull windowpain,
We shivvered when chill winds blew.
We wondered when summer would surround us,
It was coming, though we never knew.
Then all at once the sun blossomed,
Where fruit hung ripe on the bough,
So uall too soon it was over
And autumn days hung with us now.
September soon melted through hrain,
Nut trees gave forth of their bounty,
Winter, though slowly, came again.
We thought and prepared for Christmas,
That too was over in a trice.
Gott Slut, as they say in Sweden,
A ‘year ending’, they say. Very Nice.

Copyright Evelyn J. Steward. December 31st, 2016.
Happy New Year to everyone who reads my blogs, and to all those Facebookh Friends who have been so kind to me.

Be safe out there, have a Wonderful Year in 2017.

Evelyn

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This entry was posted on December 31, 2016. 1 Comment

Third December Blog

Third December Blog.

Rick’s Look at Christmas Past.

Watching the cookery programes,
Of Christmas cheer, days in the past.
Nigella cooking for friendly feasts,
And RicK Stein’s Cornish repasts.
This time, some years gone by,
Not so much cooking but homespun,
Of Cornish celebrations when visiters have gone,
And Saxon Wassalling beats the drum.
Of joining in, quaffing the cider,
Or beer and Star-Gazy Pie,
Setting alight the old beacon,
Dressing up, in a dark snowy sky.
A way of remembering heritage,
And boats all lit up on the quay,
Eating, drinking and merrymaking
At Christmas time, for you and me.

Copyright Evelyn J. Steward. December, 2016.
(My version of Rick Stein’s Seasonal Cornwall)

 

Merry Christmas to Everyone and

a Very Happy New Year, 2017.

Evelyn

Of Ash and Seed – Candy-floss dawn

Such dawns are rare in this land.
Evelyn

The Silent Eye

anglesey-bryn-holy-island-wales-026

We woke to clear skies…and heavy frost. Our after-dinner walk the night before had seen us wandering the deep, unlit blackness of the shore, watching the colours of the stars in the cloudless night. The temperature had dropped dramatically, so the pre-dawn frost was no surprise. Nor was it any surprise at all that two of us were already up and out, long before our companions and the sun were due to rise, walking the coastal path as far as we dared in the time before breakfast.

anglesey-bryn-holy-island-wales-013

There is something magical in being abroad to greet the rising of the sun, something that speaks to the soul and feeds it silently as the light slowly floods the sky, painting it in pastels and gold. Behind the sacred mountain to the west, a soft rainbow of colour marked the fleeing edge of night as we walked through the ice-crisp grass. The…

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This entry was posted on December 19, 2016. 1 Comment

Moon over Venus – part one

Something different.
Evelyn

The Silent Eye

moon-over-venusaa Moon over Venus

Four hundred steps… six hundred million years… It’s a lot, especially when they descend one of the steepest cliffs in Britain.

anglesey-from-top-steps

But it’s worth it. To travel through the known geological history of the Earth in the few minutes it takes to hum ‘Morning has broken’ is a soul-warming experience; and nor is the song out of place when you’re experiencing one of the brightest and most beautiful December mornings ever…

cliffs-from-halfway

With the exception of Friday night’s walk around the moonlit crescent of Trearddur Bay, on the farthest western peninsula of the ancient island of Anglesey, this, the Saturday morning, was the start of the Silent Eye’s ‘notorious’ winter weekend – notorious for its dubious seasonal placing within the pre-solstice, December weather.

trearddur-bay-morning-dec16

Last year’s December workshop had ended, prematurely, amidst the worst UK floods in living memory, as we battled the elements to climb the rain-soaked west-Pennines…

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This entry was posted on December 17, 2016. 1 Comment

Cracked It! No Glittered Pussy This Year

I do love your blogs Gail.
Evelyn

jennie orbell

So, that’s it! The last craft fair is under my belt. The remaining items are sorted, boxed, and stored away until next year. Unfortunately, the ‘storage’ area is the bottom of one of my wardrobes. This means that anything over shirt length is creased and rammed towards the back of the wardrobe. No worries. I’m going to sort through everything again and fill some charity bags.

I tidied these wardrobes earlier in the year and still ended up with hangers full of crap. Too ‘small’ crap. Too ‘busy’ crap. Too ‘boring’ crap. Too ‘plain’ crap. Put simply – crap. So, I am going to be lethal.

Boots and shoes are not escaping the clear-out either. In fact, if anyone would like a free pair of short, brown boots (Clarks – 6) with a small heel, let me know. They have been on my feet once – for ten minutes. Plantar…

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Second December Blog

Second December Blog.

Too Much?

Just a few days until Christmas,
The High Street’s beginning to thrum,
People are bustling, up road and down
Like a heartbeat or pound of a drum.

Their bags have a bulging-type quality,
They’re bristling with all kinds of Cheer,
Some have a turkey, goose, chicken or duck,
It’s the Season, at this time of year.

Mince Pies, pudding and trifle,
It may be different for you,
But in the UK, it’s tradition,
Like catching a bus, or the Flu.

Tree gets caught in the doorway,
And drags in the puddle of rain,
Chestnuts fall out of bags made of string,
Crowds on the street are a pain.

Some of us wish it all over,
The presents and food cost a lot,
We’re tired and feel so depleted,
At the end, an empty replete pot.

Copyright Evelyn J. Steward. December, 2016.

Rain had been drizzling all day. Not heavy! Just that light sort of stuff that seems relentless. No-one stopped in this kind of weather or at this time of day. It was dark, though street lights and decorations ( last year’s up from the west) gave it a garish hue.
Bob tried to drag the cardboard away from the front. Rain would make it collapse. A small growl issued from the huddle inside the cardboard box.
“OK, Buster, that’s enough.” The small terrier grumbled a bit more, then settled back down to sleep.
Bob had found him by a dustbin outside a pizza place. He was starving. Bob was hungry too, not having been able to scrape up enough yesterday for food. But just inside a full bin there were two boxes of fresh pizza.
Sometimes it wasn’t what a customer ordered. Nothing the staff could do but bin them. You just had to there at the right time.
Bob had given some to the dog who promptly followed him back through the streets to this particular cosy nook – a deep doorway in a quiet street. Somewhat off the beaten track but of the way of police patrols, mostly!
As the rain eased up, Bob climbed out of the box, coaxed a sleepy Buster out also. He folded down the front dry end, tucking it inside the damper part, dragging it all as tight against the old door as he could. It might not be noticed in deep shadow!
Slinging his rucksack over his shoulder, he moved out and headed towards the brighter roads, Buster close on his heels.
It was near Christmas. People seemed to be more generous at this time of year. He could, and did, sing for his supper. Buster would hop onto his hind legs and do a little dance.
Bob had not taught him how to do this. Buster just got on his hind legs one day, and….well just danced. Of course, people saw the little dog and smiled. They put more money in the tin, enought to buy a bit of proper food for Buster.
One lady who probably worked close by, opened her shopping bag one day and produced a carrier bag with seven tins of dog food inside, a tin opener and a big bag of dry dog food.
She smiled at Bob, explaining that her own pet had recently passed away and she had a little stock of dog food going to waste.
She came by the following week. “I did tend to stock up a bit,” was her excuse. Buster seemed quite taken with her. Wagged his stump of a tail as she bent over to pat his head.
Bob got to sing in more places without the police moving him on. So he ate more regularly and, because Buster had food because of a kind lady, he had that much more to spend.
Though wintertime, the weather was still mild. People, getting ready for Christmas, seemed more generous. One cold snap and he headed to where the Sally Army regularly brought soup and bread during the night. With the warming soup, they gave out packages of razors, soap and knitted scarves. One of the Soldiers handed him a hand-knitted ‘coat’ for Buster.
It fitted too, though Buster was not enamoured. Still, it would keep him warm when the frosts came.
His benefactress kept bringing food for his dog, for which he was extremely grateful. She often stopped to talk and Buster got his tummy scratched, which he loved.
As for Bob, the world became a friendlier place, at least for Christmas. Mary, the dog food lady, asked him round for Christmas dinner, which included a good bath. Life, for a while was sweet.

Just a little story with the Christmas Spirit in mind.

Happy Christmas/ Holidays/Hannukah or any other Holiday you Celebrate at this time of year. And remember, be safe out there.

Evelyn