Fresh homegrown peaches, blueberries and 30 degrees C ahhhh.

Dear Readers, I hope I find you all well today.

Yes the title is correct, this is what a fellow blogger All the Blue Day is experiencing in Tasmania (thanks Jo) and it certainly made the sun shine in this house.  I was eating breakfast, homemade muesli loaded with dried fruit and seeds especially dried apricots and peaches, not too many oats, toppped with  a little yoghurt (greek of course)The muesli only cost pence to make a weeks supply, unlike the various brands you get at the supermarkets, and I only put in the things I like.  The dried fruit induces a summery feel, but as I read Jo's blog the sun (metaphorically) filled the room, the scent of peach trees wafted in along with the sound of children playing in a pool or on the beach.  .  Breakfast and the blog really has set me up for the day, read the blog it is always good .

As we head for the weekend, I am updating my to do list, adding such delights as, curl up on sofa and read, magazine and book are ready for that indulgence, knitting (current project Humpty Dumpty and his wall) housework and clean the brass-ware, always heady reminders of a wonderful time at my grandmothers house being able to collect the brass-ware (some of which I will be polishing this weekend) hoisted up onto the china cabinet surface and allowed to shine the items to within an inch of their lives, and then carefully with no fingermarks replace them in their designated space, sheer delight and one which I then passed onto my children who diligently shined door knobs and doorplates and my grandmothers brass.   An absolute delight for me, not so sure about my two, but they seemed to like it when the time  came around.  My reward for the brass at my grandmother's to go shopping for food in Caernarfon, heady days and well loved.  I shall get into town at some point to look and templates for applique work, for dresses and pennant banners.

Peach trees won over brass and my offering today is The Peach Tree on the Southern Wall by Christina  Rossetti, and picture of Caernarfon Castle.  Thank you all once again for joining me and I look forward to joining you again next week  Have a wonderful day wherever in the world you are.

Siwzy

Caernarfon Castle, the view from my grandmother's house

The Peach Tree On The Southern Wall (Christina Georgina Rosseti) 

The peach tree on the southern wall 

Has basked so long beneath the sun, 

Her score of peaches great and small 

Bloom rosy, every one. 

A peach for brothers, one for each, 

A peach for you and a peach for me; 

But the biggest, rosiest, downiest peach 

For Grandmamma with her tea. 

The year of the horse.

Dear Readers, good morning and I hope all is well with you.

What a wonderful sound of birds chattering in the hedgerows this morning, an absolute delight, and to watch them flit from hedge to tree and back again, some have even started to collect twigs in readiness for nest building, a really cheerful greeting to the day.  

I spent all yesterday designing, cutting out, re-cutting out and sewing a pennant banner for my granddaughter (in the absence of pattern for dress) and am really pleased with the result, this being my first article other than playing around on the sewing machine.  I was trying to decide what implement to use to define the tips of the pennants, and found another good use for knitting needles.  Next is the foray for appropriate letters to attach to each pennant and to decorate the top with colourful shapes, one of each colour and shape, not sure whether to get these in wood of appliqué, we'll see what I come up with, any ideas welcomed. Quilters club on Saturday and we have the Doughty's road-show, a mesmerising amount of materials, buttons, fasteners of all types and patterns, maybe I will strike lucky there.  

Friday sees the start of the Chinese New Year, the year of the horse and the end of my year, the year of the snake.  The Chinese Lunar New Year is the longest chronological record in history, dating from 2600BC, when the Emperor Huang Ti introduced the first cycle of the zodiac. Like the Western calendar, The Chinese Lunar Calendar is a yearly one, with the start of the lunar year being based on the cycles of the moon. Therefore, because of this cyclical dating, the beginning of the year can fall anywhere between late January and the middle of February. This year it falls on January 31st. A complete cycle takes 60 years and is made up of five cycles of 12 years each.  The Chinese Lunar Calendar names each of the twelve years after an animal. Legend has it that the Lord Buddha summoned all the animals to come to him before he departed from earth. Only twelve came to bid him farewell and as a reward he named a year after each one in the order they arrived. The Chinese believe the animal ruling the year in which a person is born has a profound influence on personality, saying: "This is the animal that hides in your heart."

Those born within these years are recognised as energetic, bright and intelligent. This kind of person is sometimes referred to a "Qianli Ma" - a horse that covers a thousand li a day (one li is equivalent to 500 metres).  It is believed those born in the year of the horse have excellent communication skills and enjoy being in the limelight.  In general, it is suggested that they are cheerful, popular, talented and enjoy entertaining. They are associated with success and cannot stand failure.

Thank you once again for joining me and reading my ramblings, I look forward to being with you again tomorrow.  Have a lovely day today wherever you are.

Siwzy

What is a Horse? by Lily Whitaker

What is a horse? 

A horse has eyes as dainty as a mink.

The grace is interrupted merely by a blink.

A horse is beauty.

What is a horse? 

A horse is a tree in a storm that never goes down.

A horse is a weathered rock that stays around.

A horse is ancient.

What is a horse? 

A horse waltzes like breeze over rivers.

She curvets and leaps like rain shivers. 

A horse is a marionette. 

What is a horse? 

A horse is determination, that never stops flowing.

A horse is fondness, that never stops growing.

A horse is poetic power. 

Wednesday and all is well with the world.

Hi Everyone, I trust today finds you all well.

This morning dawned bright and fair, the trees taking on a aged look as they wait for the fresh springs growth, but even so there is a magic in the lichen growing on the branches glistening in the damp and reflected by the sun.  Almost ethereal look to them like a living tree in an enchanted forest, I am just waiting for the mouth to appear and the tree to start talking.  

My foray into town yesterday has really inspired me to get on with the dresses for my granddaughter as well as seeing if they will be good enough to sell at local craft fairs, we will see.  I did find a couple of suitable sized patterns on-line, so head down and get on with it.  I hope you liked the pictures of the cardie's yesterday, I am about to finish another so more pictures to come.   As you know I knit in the evening and am at a total loss as to what to do with my hands if I have no knitting to do, no hope for me really.

Today's offering is Lichen glows in the moonlight, by John Kinsella, a new one for me and a poet I intend to look up and read his other work.

Lichen Glows in the Moonlight

BY JOHN KINSELLA

Lichen glows in the moonlight

so fierce only cloud blocking

the moon brings relief. Then passed by,

recharged it leaps up off rocks

and suffocates—there is no route

through rocks without having to confront

its beseeching—it lights the way,

not the moon, and outdoes epithets

like phosphorescent, fluorescent, or florescent:

it smirks and smiles and lifts the corner

of its lips in hideous or blissful collusion,

and birds pipe an eternal dawn, never knowing

when to sleep or wake. They might

be tricked into thinking their time’s up,

in the spectrum of lichen, its extra-gravital

persuasion, its crackling movement

remembered as still, indifferent, barely

living under the sun, or on a dark night;

climbing up you’d escape, but like all great

molecular weights it leaves traces

you carry with you into the realms

           of comfort and faith.

Sun, smiles and fun

Hi Everyone and welcome to today's musings. 

No the title is not incorrect, it describes some material I bought this morning for my granddaughter's dress, it is really jolly, bright and cheerful, just jumped into my hands from the shelf, begging me to buy it,along with a lovely pink and yellow candy stripe material also jumping off the shelf.  Another shop yielded some lovely buttons for the latest cardigan, pink elephants (My daughter loves elephants as does my son's partner) very dainty but lovely, also some blue yellow and green fish buttons.  Here are two of the cardigans I have made, both in a wool that knit's into a Fair Isle style finish, all part of little ones Christmas present, she wore the heather one to her birthday party on Boxing Day.  I have been trying to find a pinafore dress to suit a toddler in small sizes, have failed in the shops this morning, am about to resort to the internet, even toyed with buying a dress for her size and modelling a pattern on it, but of course couldn't find one of those either, ah well keep trying.

On my way home, taking my usual short cut up a road divided by a central green sward running along it I was greeted by a host of crocuses peeping up out of the ground, not yet open, nor showing any colour, just early white growth, in a few days they will be out in their splendour, looking forward to that. When I got out of the car at home the chattering of the birds in a neighbouring hedgerow was delightful and a gentle reminder that Spring is on it's way.

My poem for today, is another fun one, this time by Lewis Carroll, well know and loved by many from Through the looking glass and what Alice found there, Jaberwocky.  Thank you once more for joining me and reading my ramblings, have a lovely day wherever in the world you may be. More tomorrow.

Siwzy

JABBERWOCKY

Lewis Carroll

(from Through the Looking-Glass and What Alice Found There, 1872)`Twas brillig, and the slithy toves
  Did gyre and gimble in the wabe:
All mimsy were the borogoves,
  And the mome raths outgrabe.

"Beware the Jabberwock, my son!
  The jaws that bite, the claws that catch!
Beware the Jubjub bird, and shun
  The frumious Bandersnatch!"
He took his vorpal sword in hand:
  Long time the manxome foe he sought --
So rested he by the Tumtum tree,
  And stood awhile in thought.
And, as in uffish thought he stood,
  The Jabberwock, with eyes of flame,
Came whiffling through the tulgey wood,
  And burbled as it came!
One, two! One, two! And through and through
  The vorpal blade went snicker-snack!
He left it dead, and with its head
  He went galumphing back.
"And, has thou slain the Jabberwock?
  Come to my arms, my beamish boy!
O frabjous day! Callooh! Callay!'
  He chortled in his joy.

`Twas brillig, and the slithy toves
  Did gyre and gimble in the wabe;
All mimsy were the borogoves,
  And the mome raths outgrabe.

Hi Everyone, I hope you all had a good weekend.  We did albeit quiet.

Yesterday we went for a walk in Cardiff Bay on the Barrage, between rainstorms, the wind  with was blowing hard, so all cobwebs removed succesfully, the water in the bay had white horses, and where the sun came through the racing clouds it was catching the water and the copper roof of the Millenium Centre and glistening and sparkling.   Because of the rainwater from the hills, having swelled the two rivers that feed the bay, was gushing through the overflow (100m wideish) into the Bristol Channel with such a force it was like watching a boiling pan as it met the tide coming in, a fantastic sight to behold, and all the time seemingly impossibly the cormorants about 20 of them were gracefully diving into the depths and reappearing beak full before embarking on another dive.  An absolutely beautiful half hours walk, it did both of us good.

My husband is busy reading a book about Spike Milligan, and I glanced over and saw the poem about the Ning Nang Nong, and thought what a wonderful poem to start the week, so here we are.

As always thank you for joining me go out and enjoy today wherever in the world you are, hi to a couple of new readers, I think one of these may be my sister, Hi little sis.  Speak to you tomorrow.

Siwzy

On the Ning Nang Nong (Spike Milligan)

On the Ning Nang Nong 

Where the Cows go Bong! 

and the monkeys all say BOO! 

There's a Nong Nang Ning 

Where the trees go Ping! 

And the tea pots jibber jabber joo. 

On the Nong Ning Nang 

All the mice go Clang 

And you just can't catch 'em when they do! 

So its Ning Nang Nong 

Cows go Bong! 

Nong Nang Ning 

Trees go ping 

Nong Ning Nang 

The mice go Clang 

What a noisy place to belong 

is the Ning Nang Ning Nang Nong!!