Month: March 2022
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Morning memories
So many memories poured out yesterday, as the village turned up in force to honour and remember Nigel Geoffrey Baynes. He seemed to have touched everyone, in one way or another, and it felt like a sacred duty to be there, in one way or another ourselves, to say goodbye, to say thanks for brightening…
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Woodworking joys . . .
Actually, I’m not interested in selling anything I might make. As our dear friend opines about his amazing bird houses, which decorate several walls around our smallholding in Sparty Lea, ‘if I had to sell them, it would take all the fun out of the activity.’ Same for me. No, what I want is to…
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The delights of feedback
My good friend from college (university) days back in Pennsylvania is a constant source of joy. We seem to have many areas of empathy, and the primary one is now in the realm of ageing. One of the great things about feedback in this blog is that I get to re-consider the thoughts I’ve had,…
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Minimalist joys
Having accumulated stuff for most of our adult lives, it seems we’re now embarking on a de-cluttering routine, so that our lifestyle could be said to be moving towards minimalism. Just how long this phase will last is anybody’s guess, but it feels as if it could be refreshing, cool, and well, minimal. I’d like…
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A moonlight experience on the high fells
I’m delighted to add a guest experience to the joyful collection today. Jeff Richardson writes about the midnight perambulation I alluded to a week or so ago: “Couldn’t sleep Saturday night so went for a walk — set out on my adventures about 12, into a night illuminated by a full moon. Walking down the…
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The comfort of an enlightening book
Over the last couple of years, I’ve found deep comfort in some wonderful books. Inevitably followed on the strength of a heartfelt review in The Guardian, or passed on by family, these books have been a joy. In particular today, I want to mention Rachel Clarke’s Dear Life. A palliative care doctor who relates her…
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New horizons: trepidation before possible joy
There are always new horizons, I guess, and new experiences as we age. My good friend Henry reminds me that the ageing process can affect us differently, but as my erstwhile Writers Group colleague and friend Marjorie Anderson noted, the end result is the same. Not to be gloomy or fatalistic, I’m also remembering that…
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A never-ending story of fertiliser
The potato patch is moving towards readiness to receive this year’s offerings. The clement, dry weather was such a delight this weekend; it was looking possible, at last, that the horse poos out in the field might be dry enough to be blown into the big collection bags. And indeed, the first swathe of mower-harvested,…
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Late afternoon blessings
The sun’s been shining all day, and the field is drying. In the late afternoon, from the mouldering clothes drying area I cleared a bit of debris left over after an abandoned construction effort (the new generator shelter was finessed better with treated boards and hinges). This simple effort opened the way for me to…
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Fixing things gives a special pleasure . . .
What if your wheelbarrow develops a flat tyre, possibly as a result of trundling through endless thorny branches from a long hedge trimming odyssey? That’s going to play havoc with the big gardening effort, but it’ll take a couple days before the tyre can be fixed at Paul Gowland ATV in Allendale. It doesn’t take…
Roads to Joy 