Alphabe Thursday … G is for Grate
G is Grate, the recess of the fireplace or the metal frame containing fuel in the fireplace. From the Latin ‘cratis’ meaning hurdle.
We moved into this house in the early 1980s when the property market was booming. We had limited funds and had to settle for a house in our prefered and more expensive area; cheaper but without its original features; always a desirable option but not for us this time!
During the previous 20 years it had become the trend in some localities to remove old and dated fittings like fireplaces, windows and doors to make space for central heating and picture windows, fitted kitchens and indoor toilets etc.
Our Victorian Terrace house had fallen foul to such a property developer who actually had not done such a bad job. He had not tacked a bathroom on the back of the house, but converted the third bedroom into something very stylish and spacious. He did replace the tiny sash window in the kitchen with a ‘picture’ window that overlooks the back garden and it has been a constant delight.
Another feature he retain to his credit was the tiny porch just inside the front door. This this useful space has been removed from other houses in our street. As a result when they open their front door their sitting room is exposed to the world or at least to their neighbours; not a good look in my opinion.
He did remove all but one of the fireplaces; this was sad enough and could have proved to be disaster. When a builder came to replace our roof he noticed that while the fireplaces and chimney breasts had gone from the dining room and second bedroom he had left the chimney on the roof unsupported. The chimney could have fallen at any time and caused untold damage.
When the builder had made the chimney safe he went on to replace our roof not with plastic tiles instead he retained our old slates and reused them on a new wooden frame. So while all the other features have gone; we do have original bricks made here in Reading, the slate tiles quarried not so far away and a tiny grate a long way from its former glory but a nice focal point for me to sit beside.
We did hope that one day we would move a little bit more ‘upmarket’ but it seems the day never came. As I look at my few original features that bring me such joy I wonder if we ever will.
Wisdom on Wednesday
What did I learn last week? Which means what did I learn that can be minimised to around 400 words and not be too painful to reveal to my readers. Or retrievable; since I have learn a lot and forgotten most!
Some lessons are not yet considered learned; more a work in progress. This one might become a very pleasant habit.
Since I was a teenager I have suffered, I say suffered but mean it just happened; depression. I have never discovered what caused it but have spent many years trying to ‘cure’ it, without success. So now after fifty years I have accepted it as part of me; i have learned to ‘manage it’ it another misnomer I prefer not to use; it is a harsh word to describe a tender and painful condition.
Nonetheless using tools learned over the years; I have come far and maintained a bearable balance.
However, for the last few weeks I have been generally unwell mentally and physically and unable discover the reason and bring any relief.
I decided to look at the list again of the tried and tested methods and ensure all the stones had been turned. I rang my usual first port of call; my Herbalist, who asked ‘What, where and when?.
She suggested that I boost my immune system by increasing my usual dose of tables 3 times. She added that she had heard that Matte Tincture was being recommended for depression although she hadn’t used it yet. I said, ‘Do you mean Matte Tea?’ as I spied a packet lounging on my tea shelf!
‘Yes!’ and the rest is history!
Who knows what brought the welcome relief, the tea or 4 extra echinacea tablets? Who cares?
Matte tea pronounced ‘match’ in Brazil is a traditional South American drink; sipped through a straw from a specially prepared gourd. I enjoyed drinking it from a ice cold can in Brazil but somehow didn’t get into the habit since I returned. I am not sure how to make it in the ‘traditional’ way I just use boiling water as we do with black tea. It is very pleasant and has gone a long way to lift my spirits and I plan to drink it daily especially at times when the mood swings or when the hormones jangle a bit. .
Weekly Photo Challenge … Companionship
Companionship like love is difficult to define. I have many companions, at the moment one is my pen; I trust it will write the words that flow in my head in this moment and for next few pages. I hope the ink cartridge will not run out during this time. However in case of breakage I have a replacement; likewise the cartridge.
My mode of transport is a bike that is never far away to deliver me to and from work. It is kept in good repair and has rarely lets me down; but if the worst should happen; I have a contingency plan. The local public bus service is not such a dreadful option.
Of late my camera has become a dependable friend. By the same token I have accumulated a few electronic companions that make life a little more convenient. Fortunately, I am a little old school and can remember a simpler life when we didn’t have to carry around a bagful of stuff to ensure that we remain in contact 24/7. Don’t worry I am not going to blab on about the good old days; I do enjoy the benefits of reliable communication.
I said that companionship is as a concept is complex; especially when considering companions of the humankind. I am surrounded by them; particularly siblings and offspring who are my most loyal companions and to whom I remain true. That is not say I wish to be beside them, day and night. or indeed nearby at all. It is good to know they are my unconditional companions who unlike my pen, camera and bike cannot be replaced and as we get older we are less likely to be reparable. .
So with the aforementioned gizmos we can keep in contact on all levels and maintain a worthy and whole companionship. However if this tender bond breaks down and they do; in my life relationships have broken down almost irretrievably. Life without a companion is painful and desolate.
This morning (Sunday) I went for a walk taking ony a camera to capture picture that represents the frailty of companionship. I live near a lake and each year the ducks hatch a family of ducklings. Each day I cycle past making a mental note of the ducklings and their number, each day the amount lessens until there are none. Sadly the duck and her drake cannot protect their little brood from the fish that lurk in the shallows waiting for a tasty morsel. Over the years I have not seen many clutches survive.
So this morning it would seem that the ducklings have all gone or indeed not coming out to play yet. So I had to be content with a mish mash of images that indicate that companionship is relative and fleeting. So I celebrate this morning and suggest that companionship is not a permanent state; neither is loneliness, but by using the tools of communication a tender balance can be achieved.
Last Week I …
Last week I had a visitor; for the most part they are welcome even of the human kind. What it is the point of creating a masterpiece and keeping it hidden from view? Sadly, my tiny walled garden is not big enough to swing a cat; although you can rest assured I haven’t tried. But I might if another one comes over and tries to use my seed patch as a WC.
So my garden except from my virtual visitors remains private.
However I do go to great lengths to ensure the lesser creatures come and go. Although I notice some just come and stay hidden, to multiplying like crazy and munch at my tender plants. While I wait patiently or not for a hedgehog to come and stay; I do take less hospitable measures to cut their visit short!
I have over the years noticed more visitors of the buzzing and flitting kind. Also, some birds come in and out of the nearby sycamore trees. Several trees are growing in the gardens that are no longer tended so carefully now this area has become increasingly rented and student land.
These neglected gardens have not been subjected to insect and pest repellents so they flourish with native if somewhat invasive plants. So, to my joy my feathered friends pop in and out and enjoy my bird bath, table and ornament my carefully ‘brought-in’ and sculpted native plants.
I cannot pretend my garden is a botanical delight, I am neither botanist or real gardener; so flying, buzzing and pecking things are always welcome but we are not on first name terms. However if you bite me, sting me or eat my plants and slim about, then I might not welcome you so heartily.
Last week I had a visitor who did none of those things but can be very harmful to the environment. It doesn’t biodegrade, is produced by unsustainable material and apparently is liable to clog up the atmosphere.
Nonetheless I was thrilled it dropped by because it was a perfect match for my early summer palette …
Silent Sunday
Saturday thought
While my daughter has been away in Brazil, we have communicated almost daily. Usually by email; very short or very long. They are always about ourselves; we rarely talk about someone else unless he or she has had an influence on the matter in hand. They are tender moments of pure indulgence; the remnants of a wonderful relationship we shared before she went to university and then Brazil.
Our separation has been difficult yet beautiful and I would not change a thing! Nonetheless, there are times we find ourselves in the depths of despair; seemingly beyond hope. For a multiple of reasons but usually because our email language has not been appropriate.
We all know how careful we must be in certain situations at work and and home, to check and recheck before we ‘send’ an email.
So daughter and I have unspoken rules that eliminate a check beforehand; because frankly if I checked every email before I ‘sent’ to her I would be doing it all day; in some cases the email wouldn’t be sent.
In a close relationship and normal conversations, we often say things that we regret and not in a position to ‘not’ send or press pause. These heated words, good or bad are often the crux of the moment and need to be expressed.
So, we try to remain honest and open, trying not to filter out other delights such as love, humour and other nuggets of fine information. Anger too, it is healthy to express anger, or dissatisfaction in a semi-controlled space.
Its important in an email to put a word or two in the title to give the reader a hint of the content. Years ago I remember this was a rule when sending a business letter or memo to say ‘referring to ,.,.’ so the duplicate copy was filed accordingly. Mother and daughter have no need for such bureaucracy; do they?
For instance ‘cake’ with image means ‘Hi, I am ok’ Similarly, tea!
The words ‘Oh dear’ are more problematic. A box of tissues and privacy will be necessary. Also, there are degrees of Oh dear-ness, I have experienced both ends of the scale. I tend to approach these with a degree of trepidation. Once, I had ‘Oh, dear I have got on the wrong bus and going in the wrong direction for a very important meeting in an hours time. Or ‘Oh. dear which dress, red or blue?’
I too have ‘Oh, dear’ moments; my age and experience doesn’t make me any more sensible or careful.
Sometimes it is difficult to add a title, when subject matter varies from ‘Please send some Earl Grey tea to ‘Oh dear there was a shooting in the Favela last night and I haven’t slept a wink’.
Email is the most convenient way to communicate and express our feelings even if a little fragmented. Remembering, for every spoken word there are many unspoken or documented; we must grab them, truths or otherwise, hold them to our hearts and let them go. This is vital because there is nothing we can do to alleviate the ‘oh dear’ moments except wrap them in love and send them on their way.
Friday’s Snapshot from the Library
I work in Special Collections; an environment where we try and stem the tide of aging. We work tirelessly preserving books some as old as 400 years; going to great lengths to ensure they don’t deteriorate more than is necessary. Not me personally! We are mostly successful even when the item goes beyond repair we are now in a position to scan them so they can at least be observed as an artifact or read as a book. So while the the reader is not able to touch the book he can a make some informed judgments about it and its social surroundings.
While researching an artist who illustrated a 20th century book early this week; I discovered that all her works of art were not so easily preserved.
Helen Binyon (1904-1979) was the daughter of Lawrence. She was an artist and studied with Paul Nash and Eric Ravilious illustrating books for the Oxford University Press.
I came across a little poetry book written by Laurence Binyon, illustrated by his daughter and published by the Golden Cockerel Press.
While I am interested Heleln Binyon’s wood engravings I was more interested in her as a marionettist. She taught Puppetry and published the journal Puppetry Today (1966) and Professional Puppetry in England (1973)
Unfortunately this type of art is not so easily preserved and leaves me feeling if only I could go back in time and catch a puppet show!
Images from Brief Candles by Laurence Binyon with six engrvings by Helen Binyon published by the Cockerel Press 1938
Alphabe Thursday F is for Fish
I know nothing about fish. I know that some are very beautiful and colourful and others are exceedingly ugly and less colourful.
Some are edible and super nutritious and others perhaps not so tasty.
I imagine to live in the sea is much like that on land and pretty precarious. Big fish eat little fish and each one goes to great lengths to protect himself and its family from predators. Some stay on the bottom of the sea and others find hiding places in the rocks and weeds. Only coming out when they need to find food such as tasty vegetation or a smaller fish or two.
So while swimming around in a clear blue sea; not doing much except to look pretty and catching a fish occasionally looks like fun; it is not a lifestyle I aspire too. Especially, that of the ugly one who lives at the bottom in the gloom and doom.
It looks to me as if only the whales and sharks get any sort of recognition and choice of diet; but even they have to watch their back.
My little gallery was inspired by a book called The sea horse ; the shyest fish in the sea by Chris Butterworth and illustrated John Lawrence.
The Gallery … Green
This is the first time I have posted to the Gallery but was prompted by Julia . I planted some Teasel seeds sometime ago. A friend told me that they attracted birds and indeed those I see by the roadside are very attractive to finches. This beauty has taken me by surprise as I thought that Teasels were golden brown and became blackened by the exhaust fumes beside the motor way! It is very tall and green and the tiny teasel heads are a delicate down and barely an inch long. The huge leaves and the thorns on the stem appear to be protecting a little treasure. So I am looking forward to watching it mature and see if it does indeed attract birds.
Who says she is wise?
When I began posting daily to my blog it seemed natural that I should write a piece about women. So each week I pick a particularly inspirational woman. The title Wednesday’s Wise Woman seemed at the time a suitable alliteration.
However, this was problematic at times as the women proved not always to be particularly wise. Carolina Maria de Jesus for instance managed to teach herself to read and write while living poverty in a favela in Sao Paulo; she rose to fame and moved to more comfortable surroundings; only to find her way back to homelessness and to die with less than she had before. This was not a wise woman in the eyes of those watching. Nonetheless her story is one that I find awe inspiring and would feature her again as there is much to tell of her story.
And then, on whose wise-ness do we judge each other? And where does the information come from? My knowledge comes from mostly secondary sources that has already been cleansed and uncleansed and been given the ‘wise-ability-seal- of- approval by other information gatherers.
Then I usually play safe; looking for familiar names making sure that they were also dead; so they cannot answer back should I get the facts wrong.
I am sure that I could go on for a very long time grabbing names from the internet ; but I have became a bit more selective when choosing. I noticed that some of the women looked very wise, they had done much to improve the world not just for themselves. They are fine role models and a credit to women and to the environment but also they received world wide notoriety and financial gain.
There were some I picked who were controversial and radical and spent a lifetime fighting against laws, tradition and opinions to implement change, equality and justice. In these cases those deciding on her wisdom or not might come from either side of the fence and she could be burned at the stack or raised to fame!
Meanwhile, back to my choices after their dead-ness. What were their reasons to find fame or wisdom? For instance I have a bee in my bonnet about ladies of the bountiful nature who want to convert every barbarian in the jungles of the world. She, boosted by her faith; foolishly put her life and others at risk in the name of god. Nothing wise in that!
Then there is my interest in the suffragette movement. No harm in that, of course lots of wise women from every walks of life; standing on the stage of Christianity, Socialism Trades Union, Labour and Tory; fighting for the rights of women. However I just don’t want a label and forever banging the gong for women and their vote.
I would like to look at other women who have struggled against adversity and not yet been noticed; dead or alive.
My daughter lives in Brazil and has broadened my outlook and pointed out women and mostly mothers who who have become active in political arena not for wealth or notoriety; simply to find their disappeared children they are not wise particularly just desperate to find closure and grieve for their dead children.
But Brazil is not my home while I am becoming more familiar with its history and politics I cannot take a Brazilian stance on my blog.
I have even explored American/ African woman and slavery, women involved in the underground movement in the 2nd World War and nurses from other war torn places. The sources will never be exhausted; but I cannot do the women or myself justice. Who wants to read about the works of women that have already been milked to death by the media, regurgitated by me and then labeled wise!
So this where I am; in a tussle I want to look wisely for women who have made a difference in situation that might not always be comfortable, pleasant or even correct. Not for financial gain, fame or enlightenment but just to make difference.
Coat Hanger Doll's House 