When The Rains Stopped

Hello Friends!

Well, it rained; and it rained; and it rained; and it rained. Then it rained some more, but this morning after what seemed a monsoon season long wet weather system, and certainly not anything like June is supposed to be, I awoke to glorious sunshine peeping through my curtains from a bright world rejoicing as the sun glinted and danced around the pristine, freshly washed land.

Today is so beautiful; the temperature is pleasantly warm; the breeze is as gentle as a butterfly's wings beating; the sky is oh! so blue behind the cotton puffed sky; the sea is calm and gently laps the shore.

I had to get out of my cottage. After days of being stuck indoors while the deluge deluged down from above Cabin Fever was setting in. Off I set, turning left at the bottom of the road, and off into the byways and country paths that surround my cottage I strode.

Like Bilbo Baggins, I went out of my front door on an adventure.

A Hobbit walking song is a good idea!

Still round the corner there may wait

A new road or a secret gate,

And though we pass them by today,

Tomorrow we may come this way

And take the hidden paths that run

Towards the Moon or to the Sun.

taken from one of JRR Tolkien's poems.

I have not been out on the coast path for a few years, and this morning when I set out it was not my intention to do so as I went walking past horses and cows in the meadows 

with the music of the wild to accompany me as I sought out butterflies and bees going about their business, making honey while the sun shines brightly

Fox Moth

Painted Lady

I have tried to correctly identify, but if you know better, please leave a note in the comments!

On I wandered, following the road as it meandered through the fields, as it narrowed, and passing by some tempting little paths that I mark to return another day

So on and on I went, eventually arriving at the coast. Oh! how magnificent it looked this morning in the pre midday rising sun!

The sea so blue, so calm; the sky so big, so bold, so blue, so puffy cloud strewn and bright! The land in countless shades of green and cliffs in many hues of richest brown.  Clear as the eye can see to the wide, adventurous horizon.

Does it matter which way you turn, which way you look? I don't think it does, do you? It is all majestic in it's splendour.  I stood, I turned, I drank deep draughts of salt sea air, fresh and cool, refreshing, restoring, traveling deep into my being.

The tide is low, far out, and rock pools and caves exposed, for we are on a big Spring Tide cycle right now. How fun to explore the shallows and the nooks and crannies along the rocky shore?

I have seen many repurposing uses for the old GPO red telephone boxes, but this one is a new use to me! A doggie comfort station! How quaint; how sweet; how thoughtful indeed!

Returning to the village, I see yet another view to make me gasp, out across the Cross Square, over the rolling meadows where sheep do safely graze, and away to the vast and distant ocean.

Oh, I took many, many more photos, but they are keeping for another day!

Until next time
Deborah xo

Pretty Vintage Handkerchiefs

Hello Friends!

It is a heart wrenching task sorting through the possessions of my dearly loved and much missed mother.  These are the days when you see everything in a new and different light, and all things become special treasures as you lovingly, carefully, and slowly sift through a lifetime of love and happy memories and come across some exceptionally pretty, lovely things.  Who would have guessed that the ordinary, quite unremarkable box, long forgotten in the back of the wardrobe would contain over a hundred beautiful vintage handkerchiefs?

I have carefully washed, and lovingly pressed them all. and taken photographs of some of them. I have yet to decide what to do with so many! I use real handkerchiefs every day. I only use paper ones if I am suffering with a particularly contagious cold virus.

There are all sorts here, from beautifully hand embroidered vintage and antique ones; some with fine, drawn thread work; lace embellished ones; some of the sort we would receive at Christmas in the 1960's from an elderly aunt, three in a box. Some are plain; others printed. Why, there is even a commemorative royal handkerchief with the young princesses Elizabeth and Margaret on.  They are all lovely. They are all old. They are all treasured. Some are already put to use for their intended purpose, while the more delicate ones will be carefully preserved, maybe used in shadow boxes with some of my vintage and antique buttons, ribbons and lace.  All the while, I shall wonder, I shall ponder upon to whom they may have belonged and how such a collection came to my mother.

Here are a few of my favourites.

I have always enjoyed using a proper handkerchief, and I still choose real linen or cotton over paper ones daily. I keep a handkerchief in every pocket, for I love pulling out a special, prettily patterned or embroidered piece of fabric to daintily wipe away a tear or a sniffle, or even to remove that smidgeon of chocolate that escapes being eaten. There's something quite special, a nod to a more genteel, refined and less throwaway age. Oh, but I have some heartily man size handkerchiefs too, for colds and serious sniffles and hay fever season!  Some of these vintage lovelies have already found their way into my personal selection for use.  Do you still use real handkerchiefs?

Until next time
Deborah xo

Betty's Smile

Hello Friends!

Today I have something very special to share with you. It is bitter sweet, and comes with tears of joy mingled with rivers of sadness and grief.

Last October, as some of you know, I lost my darling mother to that most awful of diseases that suddenly seems to be reaching pandemic proportions, Dementia. I do not know a family that has not been devastated by this dreadful disease, and nearly every day now I am hearing of yet another friend, or friend of a friend, who has received a diagnosis.

I pray every day for a cure; I send healing love to anyone who is affected by Dementia, and especial love to the care givers.

My dear cousins wanted to give me something very special to remember her by, and a few months ago, a parcel arrived at my cottage, and contained within was a large pot with a rose shrub for my cottage garden.

I wept floods of tears when I read the name of the rose, "Betty's Smile".  Betty was my mother's pet name, and when I wrote her eulogy, I spoke of how her smile could light up a room, for she had a very beautiful smile that complimented her sparkling eyes. She loved roses. It could not be a more perfect gift.

As my garden is in that state of limbo where work is being done, and things moved, I have potted it up into a huge pot to give it plenty of growing room while I pick the perfect spot to put it in the ground.

Just this week, the first beautiful bloom opened, a delicate cream touched with palest pink. Mum would have adored it, for it is gently fragrant too. I hope she is looking down on it, with love.

Until next time
Deborah xo

A Strange and Intriguing Foxglove

Hello Friends!

I was out for an afternoon walk today when I came across a most intriguing looking foxglove. It was not of the usual native foxglove ilk, with long and slender stems, bolt upright with a gently curving top, and the stem dotted with the familiar, pink gloves at intervals, nor did it have that bare space at the bottom where the early flowers have withered to produce the ripening green seed heads. No, this one was quite different indeed.

This picture of a group of foxgloves is of the sort with which I am more familiar.

See how the little gloves are spaced out, and tend to be more to one side of the stem?  Well, imagine my surprise to find this chunky, almost formidable, quite frightening looking beast nearby!

Whether it is because they are so tightly packed or not, the gloves do not seem to have that same elongated, elegant appearance of the more usual foxglove, appearing much stubbier in shape.

Now, it doesn't matter which angle I snapped it from, the gloves are tightly packed and wrapped completely around the stem. You can just see a tiny piece of stem at the very bottom of the plant.

Not only that, but just look at those vicious looking flowers yet to open at the top of the stem! Why, they look like tiny alien babies, with gaping maws and horrible yellow teeth. I have never seen so many anthers, or the like of this, before.

I think if I were a bee, I would fly quickly in the opposite direction!

Even my favourite foxglove shot shows what appear to be extra stamens inside.

Here is a picture I took several days ago of a more typical foxglove, and the inside is quite different to the Beast.  It is more how I expect a foxglove to look. Sweetly charming, soft, and ready to fit gracefully onto the paws of a fox.  I always think the flowers would make darling little hats for pixies, elves, and fairy folk.

In my curiosity this afternoon I have Googled images of foxgloves and my only conclusion is that this frightening looking beast may be a hybrid cross between some of the more specialised cultivated varieties and a native wild species. What do you think? I will be interested to know if any of you, especially in the UK, have seen anything like this before.

Until next time
Deborah xo