Story teller

I started this post a while ago with just the title and a recipe; what on earth was I going to write about? Almost a month a go and so much has happened it would be impossible to catch up and difficult to summarise; perhaps it is best left gone?

Mums anniversary on Sunday (2-years) and we are only a little closer to doing the recipe book “Grandma’s favourite recipes”. This sort of thing has been done before of course but we will attempt to enfold some of the character and story behind the dish; I know, half the fun will be trying them out to see if they still taste the way they did.

Last week I received an email from yet another cousin (I have around 60 in total), this was a very pleasant surprise as he had found and copied an old photo of my dad and I; it certainly brought a tear to my eye. Cousin Joe remarked how it reminded him of the song by Luther Vandross “Dancing with my father again”.

We tell stories in many ways, writing and speaking, serving and giving. Through pictures and taste, aroma and touch; we convey part of what & who we are to those around us, who begin to know us and love us in return.

White stuff

 

How we are restricted when covered with snow; communication grinds to a halt and we retreat to our burrow. Beaten by the white stuff, cold and deep, filling the pantry with food and drink. Clearing our small path to the edge of the road as if that will put everything right.

I got to use the telephone much more recently, contacting folk who I had not seen in a long time, and better, fixing dates to go and spend time with them.

Here's to the spring of 2010.

Chocolate Jig-Saw

 

Hemmed in by snow has its good points; an opportunity to catch up on little chores and dig out a good Jig-saw. I have not done a jig-saw for a long time. This one is 1,000 piece and of chocolate bars from 1960. A simple strategy of – outside bits first then some major item/ detail, except that this is just full of detail.

Each piece I pick up, I can recognise and should be able to piece it together; I have to focus on say, just 3 chocolate bas at a time other wise I would be all over the place. I thought I knew a lot about jig-saws and learned a lot about life strategies by doing them; but this one was different. I remember one industrial business, when interviewing for staff would ask; what are you like at jig-saws’ a good question!

  Anyway – here is  the  finished article.

  One of the outside pieces managed to hide itself till I was down to the last 100 pieces…..

Snowflakes dance

 

A view from the back door with some of my favourite music – Debussy; Snowflakes are dancing – they really do.

Limber hill

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Beggars bridge – Glaisdale North Yorkshire, earlier this year and in better weather.

Extremely slippy this morning, cars were struggling to negotiate the minor roads, the melting snow had frozen to a sheet of glass, but determined drivers spun on; this all reminded me of a youthful pastime.

Just beyond Beggars bridge is the steepest road in England – Limber hill’s gradient is 1-in-3 and back in the 60’s there was a polite notice at the bottom of the hill, “Stop your vehicle and engage first gear”. These were the days before synchromesh gears and foolhardy drivers would charge at the hill, expecting to reach the top. We would sit at the river side and watch the cars approaching, guessing; will he make it or won’t he? Such laughter as the embarrassed driver reversed back down the hill.

There was also much fun to be had beyond Ashley house and the tennis courts, for this is where we would take our bikes. We would push our rickety old two wheelers as far up the bank as we dared and free wheeled all the way to “The Travellers Rest inn” – all this and sliding down the Nab till our jeans were as green as the bracken.

Note to evening office: Main roads are usually clear but we will not reach home until we negotiate the slippery side roads.

Bellwood house Ugthorpe – built by my Gt Grandfather

Revealing

Early morning mist is clearing, revealing woodland and home; for those awakening in the houses below it must seem a bleak looking day. The air is crisp and to see so far in the clear light is encouraging, this is a morning walk before the snow we have today.

I don’t often amaze myself but recently a friend recommended a book “The Christmas Mystery” by Jostein Gaarder – I read this book in less than a week, which for me is unheard of. Some of the quotes that will remain with me are :-

“But it is important to be happy about the little you have. However little it is, it's infinitely more than nothing”.

“There are two ways of becoming wise. One is to travel out into the world and see as much as possible of God's creation. The other is to put down roots in one spot and to study everything that happens there in as much detail as you can. The trouble is that it's impossible to do both at the same time”.

“God's kingdom is open to everyone, even people who travel without a ticket”.

Regarding the lovely wild flowers – the angel nodded mysteriously “They are part of the glory of heaven that has strayed down to earth” he explained. “You se there is so much glory in heaven that it can easily spill over”.

This book reveals more than just a Christmas mystery and as it came to the closing chapters, I did not want it to end; I didn’t want to know the answers, I was more than happy with the story itself.

Note to evening office: something revealed is not necessarily earth shattering.

Christmas Cards

I am surrounded by Christmas cards, address’s, lists of contacts; and there are so many. Already the postman has delivered a good bundle of greetings and wishes of good health this festive season. Each one is a moment in itself, full of memories and longing to be wherever they are. Recapturing times of laughter and tears – deep feelings of belonging to so many places and times, it sets the emotions in a spin. Primarily guilt, I should have spoken to this person sooner – has it really been a year since we wrote to each other.

I believe there is a knowing between such folk, that - if needs must - we would be there for each other; as it is – what is pressing, are other matters and they need to be attended to. However, it is good to escape to the daily visit of the postman and indulge in affectionate memories.

Note to evening office: I thank the Lord that I have the capacity to love to the level that I am – and that is sufficient for the plan He has for me.