Day-Close

 

At Day-Close In November

The ten hours' light is abating,
      And a late bird flies across,
Where the pines, like waltzers waiting,
      Give their black heads a toss.

Beech leaves, that yellow the noon-time,
      Float past like specks in the eye;
I set every tree in my June time,
      And now they obscure the sky.


And the children who ramble through here
      Conceive that there never has been
A time when no tall trees grew here,
      A time when none will be seen.

Thomas Hardy

https://allpoetry.com/At--Day-Close-In-November

Thomas Hardy is sometimes considered to be a pessimist, but surely he just tells it like it is.  He sees, and writes about what Janet Frame calls "the sadness that belongs to the world".  But he also sees how beautiful it is, and praises it in poem after poem.

We have been living in a tragedy ever since our first parents were persuaded to cut themselves off from their Creator and go it alone.  But we are not abandoned to this, and what lies ahead of us, if we want it, is life forever in the restored earthly paradise.

Who could get tired of Autumn, of sunrises, of sunsets, of being able to care properly for the whole earthly creation.  Maybe, if God's Kingdom was already ruling, I would be able to help our two balcony babies to take safely to the air.  As things are now, I would simply terrify the poor little souls.

Their parents are so touchingly clever though.  My computer is beside the balcony and I noted that Mr Petula landed carefully at the opposite end of the balcony on a baby feeding mission, and then carefully worked himself along behind the flower tubs to their geranium nest. He was sure I couldn't see him, and so I tried to look as if I couldn't.

There were minimal fireworks last night to terrify them, but I guess there will some tonight and over the weekend.

It is the Circuit Assembly at Haysbridge tomorrow, but I will be attending on my computer, via pixel.  I am looking forward to it.

The Violet Helleborine

This lovely orchid - a Violet Helleborine - was the photo we chose for our November calendar.  Appropriately the first of November dawned misty.  One of the Petulas was busy tending the babies out on the balcony - two fine fat little pigeons, just starting out on their journey in this amazing and wonderful world.  But unfortunately still a dangerous one for all little creatures - for all of us.

Should I busy myself knitting a couple of little parachutes to help them make their first excursion from our balcony?

Though I am still so tired I hardly know what to do with myself - beyond sleep - which I seem unable to do at the moment.  Aaaarrrrggghhhh.  Old age is not easy.  

Had a couple of Zoom sessions on Monday morning, one with a friend, the second with my siblings - bar Nute, who was off having her winter flu shot.  And I have a double Zoom session this afternoon during which I hope to get some field service in.

It occurs to me that Violet Helleborine would be a great name for a fictional character in a book I have yet to write.  Should she be a down to earth Vi, or a rather upmarket Ms.Helleborine?  But where is the energy to write it?  I have a very interesting email correspondence going with a gentleman who found one of my letters in his holiday home when he arrived for a brief break, and that must be continued. I am hoping to do that this afternoon.  

We had an encouraging visit from a brother from Bethel at the weekend.  He gave us the public talk CAN TRUTH  BE FOUND?

Here are two of the Scriptures he referenced.

Proverbs 14:15:  The naive person believes every word, but the shrewd one ponders each step.

John 17:17: Sanctify them by means of the truth; your word is truth.

We need to use our reason.  Our faith must be based on reason, or what is to stop us from believing that the moon is made of green cheese?   And, as Jesus said, God's word is the truth.  But we can only be sure of that if we study it. Which is why we offer a free Home Bible Course to all who will accept one.  

You can also find it on JW.org.  It is an interactive course, with some great little videos.

My Mini Saga

 

THE FORESIGHT SAGA

by me

My darling baby

When you grow up

Your life will be wrecked

When your wife runs off

With an architect

But you'll marry again

That’s for sure

And have a daughter

You'll just adore.

This was published, but I can't now remember where. I think I wrote it for a sort of competition with a theme, presumably a min-saga. It was the sort of competition where all the entries do get published though.

The reason for the photograph of my father that heads this blog is that once he had stopped being a para in the Polish Army, he became an architect and was involved in designing and building the brave new world they hoped for in the wake of the horrors of the second World War.

It was a brave and sincere attempt by so many. But they were up against the warning in the Hebrew Scriptures that "it does not belong to man who is walking even to direct his step".

We cannot put right what has gone wrong on the earth since the loss of Eden. But our Creator, Jehovah, can and will. He has not abandoned us to this.

My father met my mother when they were both studying at the School of Architecture at Liverpool Uni. And what are the chances they would ever have met - him from from a small country town in what was then Belarus, and her from a small Lancashire village - where our child paradise of Nabbs Cottage, her childhood home, was. They made their marriage last too, for which we, their children, will always be grateful.

I hope I will see them both again when the time comes for the resurrection - if we are all there. The Book of Daniel tells us that "many of those asleep in the dust of the ground" will wake up. Many, but not all.

We are off to visit the Lady of the Flowers this morning. She is just back from a family funeral and is longing to tell us all about it. It has awakened so many memories, as these things do.

And all three of us are ladies in our eighties - well me almost so - and so we have many layers of memory. And also we find that when once we met up with our families at weddings, these days it tends to be at funerals...

Col is off to join the lads in the Detecting Field.

The Abandoned Nest?

Hope is the thing with feathers

by Emily Dickinson

“Hope” is the thing with feathers -

That perches in the soul -

And sings the tune without the words -

And never stops - at all -

And sweetest - in the Gale - is heard -

And sore must be the storm -

That could abash the little Bird

That kept so many warm -

I’ve heard it in the chillest land -

And on the strangest Sea -

Yet - never - in Extremity,

It asked a crumb - of me.

https://www.poetryfoundation.org/poems/42889/hope-is-the-thing-with-feathers-314

Yet another stormy day and night Saturday to Sunday, though on Sunday we woke up to sunshine.  The clocks went back Saturday night, which somehow we managed to remember, and Col left at 7:00 with his metal detectors and sandwiches.  

The fireworks  - which had been postponed from Saturday due to the storm - started up suddenly just after 8:00 Sunday evening. As usual, it sounded like WW3 had started just outside our window.  I went straight out to the balcony hoping that my being there might calm the Petulas down. But the nest was abandoned...   It is very sad what the animal creation have to go through. 

However come Monday morning one of the valiant Petulas was back on the nest.  And Captain B said that she must have returned straightaway as she was back there when he was out photographing the fireworks.  I can't see them succeeding though - the nest is so much in the wrong place - but I do hope for them.

Having said all that, there was a shout from Captain B who was out on the balcony, checking guests out of his Moth Hotel this morning.  I went out to find two chicks sitting in the nest.  Two!  So they have done it, against all the odds. Well, as long as the little ones can get safely aloft that is.

Will we have to help?  Will they let us?  And if so, how?

And what can we do to deter them from choosing our balcony again?  Though I suppose if they come and go without making too much noise, or mess, or annoying the neighbours, it wouldn't matter if they did.

Storm Austen

Storm Austen rampaged all Thursday night leaving wonderful waves on The Channel.  The photo, while taken by Captain B, is of a previous storm.  The Petula pigeons are still sitting doggedly on their balcony nest in the full force of the gale.  They take turns.  What a night they have been through, valiant creatures. It is hard to imagine they will succeed, but who knows?

There is another storm on the way this weekend apparently, but this one will hit in the North.

I could have headed this blog:  A Pair of Old Crocks, though I know Captain B would have said Speak for yourself.  

The poor Captain was limping round this morning with a very sore foot and so I made him his breakfast and did my best to look after him.  I spent yesterday with such painful shoulders that I could hardly do anything.  It is a good thing that I felt a bit better this morning, or, well as I said: a pair of old crocks.

On Thursday I did manage to get some things done, by taking lots of rest in between.  I got myself up, dressed and showered (Col left very early for The Field) and believe me these days that seems like a real achievement.  I had finally emailed Bea to say a real thank you for the lovely silk tops she gave me and Nute. We had spoken on the phone about it previously.  And I replied to Krysia, thanking her for the card and powerful poems she had sent me, and wished her all the best with her current exhibition of paintings in London. 

Neither of us enjoyed our convent schooldays, and we have both written about it. 

And I managed to get a soup and a crumble made.  Which was very helpful as all Captain B had to do on Friday was to heat them up for our lunch.

Talking of creative endeavours, this is the link for our Fantastic Book videos so far:

 https://www.youtube.com/playlist?list=PLbEI_U2rPe7g

Mine has not appeared yet, but it will.

Fantastic Books is a small and quirky publisher with some  - well - some fantastic books to its name.  So please do have a look.

This new storm may have hit the North with some force, as it is pelting down here now (in the afternoon), the fireworks, procession and bonfire have been cancelled, and the poor pigeons are still taking turns on their storm bound nest.

When God's Kingdom is ruling over the earth, then we will be able to arrange things so that every bird has a secure nesting spot, and we will be able to help them in any difficulties they may have.  So how much we all need it, us and all the earthly creation.

A Bad Night (Flare-up)

The Botanical Gardens in Autumn

(by me)

As the year sets slowly in the West

Its last dying glow

sets fire to the gardens

Chrysanthemums blaze

Virginia creeper reddens on stone walls.

Walking here, nearly forty, I know

How short it all is

How quickly it goes.

Shivering, I warm myself

at the dahlia's flame,

the firethorne's bright coals.

Here I am almost exactly 40 years after I wrote this...  and I will say again how short our lives are now, how quickly they go by.  

The older I get, the faster the years go.  People have sometimes asked me if I am bored in retirement.  All I can say is that when I have time to find out I will let them know.

I gave us both a bad night on Monday - right knee so painful I could not sleep or even get comfortable.  We tried heat cream, then Col got me some anti-inflammatories and paracetamol and, thank God, I was able to get back to sleep after a while.  It is still painful - everything is - but not at the acute stage it was in the early hours.

Once we were able to get to sleep, we then (not surprisingly) slept in and had a somewhat confused day.  Col got the lunch - usually he does breakfast and I do lunch and dinner.  At least both soup and crumble were already made, it was a matter of hotting them up and organising trays.  We usually lunch together while watching Bargain Hunt and saying, at regular intervals, "They have paid too much for that".

I rang the Flower Lady to say I would not be able to come and see her on Wednesday as I had hoped.  I can barely walk round the flat, let alone get myself out anywhere. And I had a Zoom field service session with a sister in the afternoon which cheered me up.  I managed a sort of scrap supper - our Supermarket delivery arrives Tuesday night - involving a packet of samosas from the freezer, some new potatoes and peas, followed by fruit and yoghurt.

It is a rainy morning with a bit of a wild sea building.  It all looks wonderful in the early morning light (as I write this blog).    The sky full of clouds, the sea dark and shining, the waves glistening white, and the tiles on our balcony very red as they are so wet.  And of course the valiant geraniums.

I have had the immense privilege of nearly eighty years on this beautiful earth, in all its moods and seasons, and it is nowhere near enough. So I continue to hope that Captain B and I, and all those we love, family and friends, and all of you my blog readers, will "inherit the earth" and live forever upon it.  

Fantastic Books

Us Fantastic Book authors have just started a small publicity campaign, which is appearing in various venues, including my facebook. I am trying to share as widely as possible.  We have all done a short video to publicise one of our books.

I am so pleased to be published - don't have the energy to do anything to sell my books - but I try to give what little help to the group of us authors that I can.

Friday began gray and rainy - which I love, but I did think of poor Petula on the balcony so bravely caring for her eggs. However, this is the sunshine coast and the sun did appear quite soon. 

We have found that Mr.Petula is doing his parently duty, flying in and taking his turn on the eggs, but he is being very discreet about it.

Captain B detected all day yesterday - found nothing - but was off again this morning, bright and early.  Oh for some of his energy - though I am very grateful indeed that he is coping with old age so much better than I am.

We had a Special Day in the congregation on Saturday, which replaced the usual Sunday meeting.  This was a Branch Visit when a representative from Watchtower HQ visits, to commend and encourage - which he did.

The theme of the talk was: "If God is with us, who will be against us."

And it was taken from Romans 8, verses 31-39.  And that chapter ends on such a comforting note: 

"For I am convinced that neither death nor life nor angels nor governments nor things now here nor things to come nor powers nor height nor depth nor any other creation will be able to separate us from God’s love that is in Christ Jesus our Lord."

Things are getting more and more difficult as lawlessness increases as Armageddon - the end of the current wicked system of things on the earth - approaches.  So we will need to keep strengthing our faith in the love our Creator has for each one of us, and in the power of the gift of the ransom sacrifice.

Captain B rang from The Field.  I asked how it was going, and told him not to find so many gold coins that he hurt his back trying to load them into the car and bring them back.  He laughed bitterly - so I guess no-one has found anything yet, not even a ring pull.

But then he came back very happy with a silver Soldino - which seems to have made the whole weekend's detecting worthwhile.