An avid tea-drinker who likes nutmeg in her coffee and warm lavender-scented quilts. She knits, crochets and partakes in random acts of craftiness (and kindness). She can often be found outside, in the garden with her faithful doggy companion, and a cup of tea. She enjoys moving furniture around, growing her own vegetables and baking bread. She writes haiku about nettles, would like to swim with seals and become completely self-sufficient. She writes as if it saves her life, listens to beautiful music, and loves her darling husband Mr. VP.
[Prunus incisa 'Kojo No-Mai', put through a funky photo filter.]
[Daffodil in the sun]
[Voles questing for seeds underneath a bird table]
[Lungwort or Soldiers-and-Sailors "Pulmonaria officinalis"]
[Hen-pheasant in fine feather]
[Robin in fine fettle]
[Signs of spring]
[And remaining signs of Winter]
[Colours of sunshine]
[And views that take your breath away]
[Blackthorn branches in flower.]
It seems at the moment the weather doesn’t know what to do. One minute it’s snowing, the next there are clear blue skies, the winds are blowing with more force and for longer than I’ve been able to recall. March winds are usual, there have been mention of them in poems and songs for many years, but they seem to be more frequent and much stronger than I ever remember them.
Today we were at a loss for what to do. We toyed with the idea of going to a National Trust property, but with the gales and frequent snow-flurries we decided against it, instead we headed out to a local beauty-spot. It’s quite lovely, very muddy, with a river and lots of land to stroll around. It has squirrels (red, of course) in abundance and a tea-rooms which do lovely, homemade food at very reasonable prices. We sat drinking our warming drinks, Mr. VP with a hot chocolate and myself with a cup of tea and sharing a very decadent piece of apple-cake. We looked out of the window onto the grey outside, with snow flurrying down around us and thanked our lucky stars we were inside rather than out.
After we’d warmed ourselves, and the snow had abated briefly, we took the well-trodden path into the heart of the woodland. Sticking to the path for a while I then pulled Mr. VP into a secluded part of the forest and headed away from others. My eyes caught the palest little flower on the floor, amongst the carpet of decaying leaf-litter. It was as white as white can be, with tiny purple veins. It took me a while, and many ooohs and aaaahhhs later to realise, when I found more of it, that it was what I had suspected it of being, wood-sorrel. It was the first time I’ve ever come face-to-face with this beautiful, beaming yet understated little flower. Its leaves are said to be the true shamrock, the one which St. Patrick of Ireland showed to the then-Pagan Irishfolk to illustrate the holy trinity, not the clover that most people use today. You can also eat it, too. Hugh F-W has been known to make soup with it, though I daren’t damage such a lovely little plant.
We did eat some hawthorn leaves though, and what a fresh, spring-like taste they had.
I amazed myself with the knowledge I have retained about wildflowers - I take a very active interest in everything natural. Mr. VP says I’m very in-touch with nature. I noticed these lovely little flowers popping up and eventually the name came to me - they were Celandines (also called pilewort for its associative healing properties in that area!). Lesser Celandines to be exact, carpeting the floor of the wood. I knelt down amongst the flora to take some photos of these stunning things. They seemed almost out of place, their very bright faces standing out loud and proud above a sea of green and brown.
The skies darkened after a while on our walk, and almost immediately the snow fell. Slowly and quietly it fell and stuck to our coats and hair. We made our way back to the car, fighting the wind which pelted hard, cold hail at our faces. It was icy by the time we finally reached the warmth of the car, the cold giving you that horrid icy headache that comes from drinking a cold drink too fast.
The wind was so violent last night it took our rickety old yard-fence off its posts and almost sent it flying, so now our yard is naked and on-view to everything and everyone. We’re going to have to brick it up soonish, once we’ve found a brickie sans Western outfit, we hope to have it done reasonably quickly. Like our next-door neighbour said, a house is an expensive mouth to feed.
It does look, though, like Spring has finally come into being. And how do we know this? The first lambs, of course!
These lambs are only a couple of days old. They will eventually grace a table - but at least unlike intensively-reared factory chicken and pork, they’ll be reared in a way which is as natural as it can be. As for our Easter meal, Mr. VP, my Mum and myself will be enjoying a non-traditional meal of roast pork from our farmshop. Homemade apple sauce and lots of yummy veg.
Happy Easter to you all. I hope you have a lovely long weekend and enjoy every bit.
I saw this on Nà’s blog and I couldn’t resist playing along. Memes are like busses, you go forever without seeing one and then they all come at once. I suppose I should start by saying that I believe in the power of music. It can be a catchy tune, an infectious chorus, or lyrics that connect with you in some innate way. I like to think that music can save lives, I also like to think that it can show you a different perspective, it can lift a mood or make you cry. I don’t know anything else with quite that much power except love - and I equate them to be on the same level. Equally as powerful.
My first song is “Flesh” by David Gray. Apart from the simplicity of the guitar being inordinately beautiful and gentle, the lyrics are pure poetry and make me smile every time I read them. I like to think that this song represents Mr. VP’s effect on my life. I also feel it stands for what we go through to get to where we’re going. The path we all travel in our different ways. When I’m feeling down I read this over to myself. He is to me, one of the greatest songwriters in the world.
David Gray - Flesh
As the bell must strike the hour
As the west must stab the sun
So our hearts
must heed the flow
of deeper tides that run
Far beyond this bare indifference
That prosperity esteems
Where the spirit
raves and dances
Through our very veinsAt winters edge you found me
By the fields of wild gold
My hands still filled with ashes
From fires long cold
You pulled me
from the wreckage
of bitterness and blame
flung open the page
And put some flesh on
the bones of my dreamsOn the streets
the blossom snowing
And the drum is beating slow
To hear you speak so clear
Well I’m slicing through the fear
Setting all the beacons
blazing, baby oh!It’s staring out plainer than ever
Brighter than all the fools
gold that gleams
It’s simply now or never
Putting flesh on the bones
of my dreamsPutting flesh on the
bones of my dreams
Putting flesh on the
bones of my dreamsAnd they can plunder
the cave of sorrows
They can strip the gallery bare
Try to build a fence
around the visions
In our heads, choke every spark
In a cloak of despairBut we got something
they can’t stifle
With their price tags
and picture frames
Got a flower for every rifle
Putting flesh on the
bones of my dreams
The second song was very easy to choose. Rated my very upmost favourite songwriter is Ed Harcourt. I first heard his plaintive, brilliant EP “Maplewood” in late 2001 and it stayed on my CD player for months. I have since loved all of his work, through all of his many stylistic changes, though “Maplewood” and “Here Be Monsters” (his first full-length LP) will always remain my favourites. It was a tough decision, working out which song to put up here as so many of his songs are worthy of being called poems in their own right (”Apple of My Eye“, “Wind Through The Trees“, “From Every Sphere” and “Those Crimson Tears“) . I chose “Whistle of a Distant Train” from his EP Maplewood.
Ed Harcourt - Whistle of a Distant Train
Scream through the silence and over the hills
10 thousand years have gone by
Passing the islands and broken down mills
The train silhouettes through the skylineMere emotion, see the ocean
Just for one day
Life speeded up since you threw me a smile
Please don’t jump on the train for a short while yetWaking up with cold feet
Wine stains on my shirt
Flat out in sparse fields of dry wheat
Going to Sunday churchLeaves on the trees splinter out of control
While the wind blows the dust on my face
Down in the valley where nobody goes
I can’t help feeling sad in this placeMere motion, see the ocean
Just for one day
The whistle of the distant train
The whistle of the distant train
Song 3 is from someone whom I have a long history with. Billy Corgan is the lead singer of the Smashing Pumpkins. They have been going for quite some years now (formed in 1988 - 20 years ago!) and have shaped the face of rock music. My first brush with them was at a time when I needed something, desperately. I was at a low point in my life (compounded by teenage angst and unrequited love) when I first heard their album Siamese Dream. It left a huge imprint on my life and to this day I still find it a wonderful, life-affirming album, but also painful as, like smell, music has a way of taking you back to a point in your life and allowing you to re-live it. The band split in 2001 and swore never to reunite again (though a mere 5 years later…). Billy continued writing poetry and songs, coming up with this brilliant song, El-A-Noy, based on an old folk tune from the 1860’s.
Billy Corgan - El-A-Noy
come you sinners/tread light
remember from where you came
let your body, hollow
forget her singsong name
it doesn’t matter/if you love her
just don’t leave your shame
in el-a-noy, el-a-noy, el-a-noyif you can see me/and hear my voice
within these lake bound vines
all down the wabash/rushing past
dead drunk and living time
your stories/are forgotten
your tales unkind
in el-a-noy, el-a-noy
el-a-noy, el-a-noy, el-a-noyone day i will leave/someday i will go
i won’t come back, no
to el-a-noy, el-a-noyrestless children/in our streets
let your love run blind
lay your burdens/at her feet
seek what you must find
in every answer/that beholds you
with every heart aligned
in el-a-noy, el-a-noy, el-a-noyas a jewel/in her crown
sits chicago town
shining beacon/of a dream
that brought the stars right down
let our skies fill/with steel titans
let the dream be ours
in el-a-noy, el-a-noy
el-a-noy, el-a-noy, el-a-noyone day i will leave/someday i will go
i won’t desire so/of el-a-noy, el-a-noycome you sinners/tread low
leave your past behind
for her winners/dead night
you can stand inside
let your body/be hers now
let your soul unwind
in el-a-noy, el-a-noy
el-a-noy, el-a-noy
el-a-noy
The next song is quite a new one, which when I first heard it, stopped me in my tracks. I daren’t move in case I missed a bit. It stung, it made goosebumps appear all over my body - I fell in love. It’s haunting and sad, achingly beautiful and winsome, everything I love about music. It tells a tale, and what a tale! That track is “To Build A Home” (snippet here) by The Cinematic Orchestra. A group which makes music that fits into no discernable category - heavily instrumental, the beautiful melodies are carried by rich vocals, in this song’s case, by Patrick Watson. The whole album “Ma Fleur” is stunning, but this is definitely my favourite track.
The Cinematic Orchestra - To Build A Home.
There is a house built out of stone
Wooden floors, walls and window sills
Tables and chairs worn by all of the dust
This is a place where I don’t feel alone
This is a place where I feel at homeCause, I built a home
for you
for me
Until it disappeared
from me
from you
And now, it’s time to leave and turn to dustOut in the garden where we planted the seeds
There is a tree as old as me
Branches were sewn by the color of green
Ground had arose and passed it’s kneesBy the cracks of the skin I climbed to the top
I climbed the tree to see the world
When the gusts came around to blow me down
I held on as tightly as you held onto me
I held on as tightly as you held onto meCause, I built a home
for you
for me
Until it disappeared
from me
from you
And now, it’s time to leave and turn to dust.
The next song is “Fruit Tree” by Nick Drake. As you can probably guess by now, I’m rather fond of the acoustic guitar and the gentler melodies - this is true. I cannot deny that these are the songs I tend to like the most, but it doesn’t define my musical tastes completely. However this song is acoustic and light. It contains so many truisms and wisdom, for someone so young.
Nick Drake - Fruit Tree
Fame is but a fruit tree
So very unsound.
It can never flourish
Till its stock is in the ground.
So men of fame
Can never find a way
Till time has flown
Far from their dying day.
Forgotten while you’re here
Remembered for a while
A much updated ruin
From a much outdated style.Life is but a memory
Happened long ago.
Theatre full of sadness
For a long forgotten show.
Seems so easy
Just to let it go on by
Till you stop and wonder
Why you never wondered why.Safe in the womb
Of an everlasting night
You find the darkness can
Give the brightest light.
Safe in your place deep in the earth
That’s when they’ll know what you were really worth.
Forgotten while you’re here
Remembered for a while
A much updated ruin
From a much outdated style.Fame is but a fruit tree
So very unsound.
It can never flourish
Till its stock is in the ground.
So men of fame
Can never find a way
Till time has flown
Far from their dying day.Fruit tree, fruit tree
No-one knows you but the rain and the air.
Don’t you worry
They’ll stand and stare when you’re gone.Fruit tree, fruit tree
Open your eyes to another year.
They’ll all know
That you were here when you’re gone.
I’m not going to stop at 5 - how can I? There are so many lyrically-poetic songs out there I definitely had to choose more than 5. This is an innately romantic song, its lyrics tell you a story of long summers and love, particularly young love and its wonders. This band made some beautiful music during their time together and there is even talk of a reunion - who knows?
Remy Zero - Perfect Memory
Remember how they always seem to know
we had the forest in our eyes
but the earth was in our clothes
and they thought we’d fall
not at allso look back on those treasured days
we were young in a world that was so tired
though it’s not what we wanted before
even the saints had to crawl from the floor
summer was when the money was gone, you’d sing
all your little songs that meant everything to meand i’ll remember you
and the things that we use to do
and the things we use to say
i’ll remember you that wayremember how they tried to hold you down
and we climbed those towers and looked out upon our town
and everything you hoped would last
just always becomes the past
it hurts but…
summer was when the money was gone
you’d sing
all your little songs that meant everything to meand i’ll remember you
and the things that we use to do
and the things we use to say
i’ll remember you alwaysbut then how this world sliped thru my fingers
even the sun seems tired
i still care
as they lowered you down
my heart just jaded
in that moment the earth made no sound
but you were there
help me lift my pain into the airi’ll remember you
and the things that we use to do
and that things that we use to say
if it don’t hurt you it won’t hurt me
if it don’t hurt me it won’t hurt you
if it don’t hurt you it won’t hurt me i know
Sarah McLachlan has been a huge inspiration to me. I bought her album “Fumbling Towards Ecstacy” back in 2001, on the same day I bought Ed Harcourt’s “Maplewood” EP (it must’ve been a good day for music!) and the whole album taught me more and allowed me to grow in ways I didn’t think possible. This song shows a particular fragility that runs through the whole album - the issues of love and trust . Though being well-known for a track that appeared on the film City of Angels, Sarah is relatively unknown and that’s such a pity because her music is intelligent, easy to listen to and has such emotion behind it. I can relate to what she’s singing about in this song - fearing love and having so much to lose. This song and I go way back, it’s both powerful and incredibly subtle. Which is why she’s my favourite female songwriter.
Morning smiles.
like the face of a newborn child
innocent, unknowing
Winter’s end promises
of a long lost friend.
Speaks to me of comfort
but I fear I have nothing to give.I have so much
to lose here in this lonely place.
Tangled up in your embrace
there’s there’s nothing I’d like better than
to fall.
but I fear
I have nothing to give.Wind in time
rapes the flower
trembling on the vine
and nothing yields to shelter
from above
They say temptation will destroy our love.
The never ending hunger
but I fearI have nothing to give
I have so much to lose here in this lonely place
tangled up in our embrace
there’s nothing I’d like better than
to fall
but I fear
I have nothing to give
I have so much to lose
I have nothing to give
We have so much to lose…
The last (but by no means least) is Air’s “How Does It Make You Feel?” from the album “10,000 Hz Legend“. I am not sure if it’s supposed to be as literal as it is - it took me a while to realise that the voices on this song (made up of computer voices) were being made human - they were being given personalities and human traits. Who are we not to say that the computer you’re using to read this post isn’t really a sentient being? A wonderful article (with a brilliant title) gives you the background behind much of Air’s work. Incidentally, my best concert experience was going to see Air live at the Eden Project in Cornwall in August 2004. Just as they started to play “Kelly Watch The Stars” the Perseid meteor shower began overhead and we were bombarded with more shooting stars than I’ve ever seen in my life. It had to be one of the most amazing moments that I’ve ever experienced.
Air - How Does It Make You Feel
I am feeling very warm right now
Please don’t disappear
I am spacing out with you
You are the most beautiful entity
that I’ve ever dreamed ofAt night I will protect you in your dreams
I will be your angel
You worry so much about not having
enough time together
It makes no difference to me
I would be happy with just one minute in your arms
Let’s have an extended play together
You’re telling me that we live too far to love each
other
But our love can stretch further than the eye
can see
So how does this make you feel?How does it make you feel?
How does it make you feel?
How does it make you feel?
How does it make you feel?Do you know that when you look at me
It is a salvation
I’ve been waiting for you so long
I can drive on that road forever
I wish you could exist to live on my planet
Well it’s very hard for me to say these things in
your presence
So how does it make you feel?How does it make you feel?
How does it make you feel?
How does it make you feel?
How does it make you feel?So how does it make you feel?
Well,I really think you should quit smoking
Wow there has been a lot going on here. I very much want to tell you what’s been happening at my hospital appointments. I want to go into details about what the doctor said, and very much want to be able to tell you my hopes and aspirations for the future.
I can’t tell you everything, because I daren’t jinx it. I cannot say to anyone apart from a couple of very select people, just how jittery I’m feeling. And how amazed I am at how grown-up I’ve become in the last few months.
I said I was going to spill the beans and indeed I am.
Mr. VP and I would like to have a child.
I am, for now at least, infertile due to my PCOS.
I have had more blood tests, ultrasounds, pokes and prods (and speculums waved at me) in the last 2 months, than I ever imagined possible.
Despite how bad it sounds, I have a clear diagnosis and am being taken seriously by a very good (nay, excellent) team of doctors and nurses.
I am keeping lots of blog posts back on what’s happening, so that one day I can share it with you all.
I am trying to be positive and not worry about what’s ahead.
I know others who are going through the same thing and I’m inspired by their determination, and my own, to keep going.
I am constantly amazed by everything.
My main goal is to be healthy and as PCOS-symptom-free as possible.
And then, just then, we can think about the pitter-patter of tiny feet.
Until then I will swim like my life depends on it.
I’ll laugh at the funny things (and believe me there have been plenty).
And I’ll also take my folic acid tablets as the doctor recommends.
About a month ago, the lovely Nà over at shadowsandclouds nominated me for a meme. It seems I’m a month behind in just about everything - but I’m going to give it ago.
So on with the pet meme. Our dog G, was a tad nonchalant when it came to answering, though with much persuasion and a good few salmon-burger-biscuits she decided to play along…
1. Favourite songs/music:
2. Favourite toys:
3. Favourite food:
4. Favourite activities:
5. Bad habits:
But how can you resist this face?