Dolphins having fun
Sharing time with kayakers
Gifting smiles to all
Dolphins having fun
Sharing time with kayakers
Gifting smiles to all
It’s a bit of a bugger being dead
when I think of the things I’ve not said!
I’m not really dead. At least I don’t think I am.
However, take heed. If there is someone you love, and you haven’t told them, do it now.
If there is someone you appreciate, and you haven’t told them, do it now.
If there is someone who helped you, and you haven’t thanked them, do it now.
If you hurt someone’s feelings, and you haven’t said sorry, do it now.
Not tomorrow – NOW
Tomorrow, you, or they, may not be there!
In my final Lundi limerick yesterday I used the hamlet of Acton and linked it to the fact that it played a large part in my Dad’s life.
In the process of digging out a bit of real life background, rather than the normal wikipedia, or google sources, I rummaged through the suitcase that I brought away from Dad’s house after he died at the grand age of 96.
Mum had died nearly 11 years before and everyone expected Dad to follow fairly swiftly after. He was, after all, a hard working farm labourer, who had relied on Mum for meals, clean clothes, and a welcoming home. We had all, of course, forgotten his hard upbringing, his determination, and his adaptability.
Within a couple of weeks he had bought himself a microwave. “I’ve always wanted one of these but your Mother would never have one”, he said.
He went on to cook his own meals, wash, dry, and iron his clothes, vacuum the house, and thoroughly enjoy the whole new leaf that he’d turned over. My little sister (three years older than me), who lived a few miles away, kept an eye on him, had him over for Sunday lunch and, over the coming years, gradually helped him more, according to his needs.
Anyway, this isn’t meant to be a definitive history of Dad, purely an extension of the information about his link to Acton.
The suitcase I mentioned earlier has quite a few Bibles, and other books, in it, each one has a story to tell. Dad was a Methodist Local Preacher from the age of 20 until failing hearing, and health, caused him to retire, although he remained ‘on the books’ until his death, and received several certificates of Long Service, even up to 75 years service! It just could not be done nowadays!
Dad was a marvellous preacher. Inspiring, knowledgeable, plain speaking, always linking to everyday life, articulate but never verbose. In everyday life you would never dream that he was a gifted and effective preacher. He was a quiet, mild mannered man whose goodness shone out for all to see, always willing to help, support, and encourage all that he encountered.
Today, as most days are, was a beautiful day. It doesn’t have to be sunny, or warm, or special, it was just beautiful.
I was alive when I woke up, that’s always a good start.
I ate breakfast, hung out some washing, fed the cat, washed the dishes, had a (please pardon the expression; it is crude, but adequately describes nearly every morning, and dates from army days) shit, shave, shower, and shampoo. I went for a walk. Talked to the trees, to spiders, to dogs and cats, and to a couple of humans.
I returned home, had a coffee, and started to read the blogs that I follow. Now, I follow far fewer blogs than (supposedly) follow me. I do, however, attempt to read every single post of every single person that I follow. I like every one of these, but choose fewer to comment on. It is very time consuming, but I enjoy it, and that, surely, is what life is all about!
On one of my regular reads, Ann Koplow’s The Year(s) of Living Non-Judgmentally, Ann’s post was entitled It’s a Beautiful Day. It was, as all of her posts are, very positive. I shall leave you to explore her blog, if you so wish, but that is not my main purpose here.
Ann included a most exquisite piece of music by Tohpati (featuring Moonlight Project), and she commented that ‘It’s a beautiful day to share “It’s a Beautiful Day”, also that It’s a beautiful day when I find out about an Indonesian jazz guitarist and songwriter whose “most significant influence came from Pat Metheny.’
Do you know what, she was absolutely right. (and if you listen to the very end you will also discover that the musicians had a beautiful day too)
Well, I didn’t expect to be back so soon with this, but I so enjoyed the first Smile time that I had to discover just where those children lived.
They are from Podersdorf am See, a small market town in Austria with a population of only about 2,500. They are very near to the Slovakia and Hungary borders, so my guess at East European was pretty accurate.
They have what appears to be a fantastic primary school with a fine musical tradition, and here they are, with my Smile time #2, singing “Good Morning, Did you sleep well? I love the anticipation of the percussionists!
For Paddy, and all those unsung heroes who are the salt of the earth, thanks to Colleen for introducing some of them to us.
We approached an Irish monument. I’m always excited to see the world as it used to be, or relics of it and use my imagination to create how I think it was. It was late in the day and only stragglers wandered about. As I stepped through the gates I could see an elderly man […]
Here is a list that Jazz Age novelist F. Scott Fitzgerald sent his 11-year old daughter Scottie in 1933 of things to and not to worry about. She was the only child of Scott and Zelda Fitzgerald.
Quokkas twice in a day has to be some sort of record.
Apart from that, this is really lovely, and well worth a look at the original too. There are some nice people around, and you don’t have to look far to find them!
Recently Sunny Skyz posted a collection of the most wholesome tweets of 2018. I’m recycling a few of my favorites here. See them all here.
Why do you think “What may have been?”
when plainly it was not?
Be happy with what’s done and seen,
give thanks for what you’ve got.
You’re richer far than many folk,
and healthier than a few.
Why try to fix what is not broke,
be thankful that you’re you!
This is beautiful.
the blog of Angélique Jamail, Author
Short stories, poems, journalism
Still Trying To Make Sense Of It All
Landscapes, Sunsets, Animals
The Writing Life
Some of this. And some of that.
The Journey Home
Living slow and eating well.
Here and now, with all of it.
Edinburgh author of the Zander Trilogy
Stu[pidity] on Stareoids
Kickin' it behind the Eight ball
Write about what you don't know about what you know. ― Eudora Welty
Poems by Tom Alexander
an online journal of short writing
Life with cats, and other things...
"If only half of the history that has happened in Nottingham had happened in some other place, that place would be famous; but because it did happen here no one knows".
an empty space between silence & stillness
Be authentic ~ Be creative ~ Be love
Diana R Zimmerman
Children’s Poetry and Other Things
Remembering good times, good places and good people
Mad as a box of frogs? Most probably ... but if I can’t be perfect, then I’ll happily be fabulously imperfect!
Finding inspiration in the little things
I am more than breath & bones.