Friday 28th February - end of Winter...

Going by Kurt Vonnegut's definitions of the seasons, January and February are Winter, and March and April are Unlocking, neither Winter nor Spring bit something in between. I like this idea; it means that if March is cold and wet and frosty and drear I won't be feeling cheated out of a proper Spring.

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Like several other blog friends, I'm 'following' a tree through the year. 'Following' is an odd way to describe it, after all, as far as I know my oak tree doesn't march around like an Ent (Lord of the Rings) or suddenly set of to frighten the wits ou of Macbeth. At least I've never seen it moving... maybe I should see if I can creep up on it unawares... 

Here is the glorious beauty, spread out in an arc, reaching for the heavens. That strange light coloured pole apparently propping up the right hand side is a determined, but probably doomed horse chestnut tree that must have started from a conker possibly as many as forty years ago. I certainly first noticed it back in the 1990s.

Here are some of the top-most twigs, each with a little knobbly bud, promises of leaves to come;

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I think it becomes harder to find music as I near the end of the poem. 

'Church-bells beyond the stars heard, the soul's blood,'

Those church bells, are they the echoes of prayers from the beginning of creation, as they escape the confines of the Earth's gravity, rise above the Earth's atmosphere and travel through space and time. Scientists used to say space was a vacuum, and I'm not sure that this is still the current thinking. Maybe space is full of the widely dispersed sounds and scents of incense, prayers, hymns and songs, reaching out into the universe...

The soul's blood; the life blood of the soul; not some red liquid flowing through our physical bodies but a spiritual essence flowing through our hearts and minds. 

Is this 'soul's blood' just... prayer?

This is a short, thoughtful piano piece called 'Stars' by Peter Sculthorpe. I didn't want to choose church bells ringing peels, or anything so... obvious, direct... I wanted something with resonance, space, consideration, leaving room for the imagination. I love it; I'm sure I've got the music somewhere, or maybe I'll have to buy it.

Thursday 27th February - spring...?

 We were at Nymans Gardens again today; it's becoming a regular haunt. The house is interesting; there was a huge fire in 1947 which turned it into a ruin. A new house was built seamlessly inside the ruin and incorporating much of what was left, which is why the left hand side in this picture looks like an old manor house, and the right a ruined country mansion.

I do love a garden door! I can walk through without stooping, but BB would get a tremendous whack on his forehead if he wasn't careful. 

This camellia will be covered in red flowers next time we see it;

And just look at all the buds on this vine;

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'You can learn to draw in 30 days'

I'm letting my enthusiasm for this book run away with me; 

This is part of the first lesson; all you need is a piece of paper and a pencil...

I've skipped the previous page where you were instructed to draw a circle and a sun to show the direction of the light.

Like this...

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The next line was a challenge to find music for. I spent time hunting down the memory of a hymn, words by Keble, tune by Orlando Gibbons which I remembered from school;

But the lyrics don't fit the poem after the forth line.

I remembered a very modern, formless piece by Ligeti called Atmospheres which was in a unit on 'Space' I used to teach to year 5 and 6;

It has a formless, awesome sound... but not to everyone's taste. Ligeti was deliberately avoiding form, beats, pulse, rhythm, melody; all the things we expect in music

Then I came across this, Debussy Images for orchestra, La Nuit - which seems to suggest the bird of paradise as well. So take your pick!

Wednesday 26th February - another bouquet - how I learned to draw

 The second oldest flowers still surviving in their vase were given to me on 14th February by BB;

A romantic bouquet of a dozen red roses... the water in the jar must be long gone but the roses haven't dropped.

I used the 'crayon' on my drawing programme on my tablet. 

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I always assumed that my school teachers were right when one after another they all informed me that I couldn't draw. 

Huh. Those teachers. What were they there for if not to teach? 

Decades later, after years of teaching piano to anyone aged 7 to 70 who came for lessons, I realised that many - most - things are learned; a decent teacher works out the best way to enable their student to learn. Of course we're not all going to be concert pianists (I include myself!) or commercial artists or superb brain surgeons, but most of us can sing (I've taught many a 'growler' to be able to sing in tune, aged from 3 to 80 years old) and draw and write and rhyme... if only teachers who SHOULD HAVE KNOWN BETTER hadn't destroyed their potential instead of teaching them. 

Rant over.

I applied the way I teach piano to teaching myself to draw. The books I've found most transformational were these two;

(The title of this one always makes me laugh... I expect Ang would giggle too)

What woke me up were her worksheets; you are supposed to copy each shape into the blank square below.

You can find a fair number on the Internet as well as the ones in the book. They train you to observe closely as the sheets become more complex. In the end I did find her very prescriptive but learned a lot, and gained confidence from her 'nuts and bolts' approach. 

This next book was an eye-opener. It did what it said; I worked through the exercises over 30 days back in 2020 and thought 'howzat! I can draw!' Not brilliantly well, but still...

My advice is, make a start, set your bar very very low, and follow the instructions. Then be kind and encourage yourself along the way. 

It's like anything; if I don't spend the time at the piano I can't expect to play as well as Lang Lang...

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Today's line is 'Heaven in ordinary, man well drest'

'To see a world in a grain of sand, and a heaven in a wild flower' says the poet William Blake. 

Heaven can be found in the ordinary things around us. 

As for 'man well drest'; our clothes would never be grand enough... but utterly doesn't matter to God, he sees past our clothes to the soul inside, and by Grace we're good enough.

I came across this poem as an introduction to a book today, 'Walking the bones of Britain ' by Christopher Somerville  (99p on kindle, but I managed to resist)

The January Man by Dan Goulder

The January man, he walks the road in woollen coat and boots of leather.
The February man still wipes the snow from off his hair and blows his hands.
The man of March he sees the Spring and wonders what the year will bring
And hopes for better weather.

Through April rain the man goes down to watch the birds come in to share the summer.
The man of May stands very still watching the children dance away the day.
In June the man inside the man is young and wants to lend a hand
And grins at each newcomer.

And in July the man in cotton shirt, he sits and thinks on being idle.
The August man in thousands takes the road to watch the sea and find the sun.
September man is standing near to saddle up and lead the year
And Autumn is his bridle.

And the man of new October takes the reins and early frost is on his shoulder.
The poor November man sees fire and wind and mist and rain and Winter air.
December man looks through the snow to let eleven brothers know
They’re all a little older.

And the January man comes round again in woollen coat and boots of leather
To take another turn and walk along the icy road he knows so well.
The January man is here for starting each and every year
Along the way for ever.

Heaven in ordinary.

Here it is sung by Mike Harding 

As a bonus, here's 'the song of the plough'. I found this while hunting for something about everyday people, who would have been living an everyday life, wearing everyday clothes. Even his 'Sunday Best' would have been fairly rough and ready.

Tuesday 25th February - bouquets of flowers

 I have three vases of flowers at them moment! It's amazing that they are lasting so well. Here's a rough sketch of the oldest on, from two weeks ago;

They are some of the flowers from my father’s funeral. When we started doing his shopping for him, only in 2024, he was taken aback when I added flowers to his shopping list, but after the first week they were a regular addition to his grocery list, at his request. 

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I'm using my tablet and a very basic drawing programme; the last couple of sketches have been done the same way. It's safer than paints and water when I'm sitting on the settee, but I'm still fathoming out how the different 'brushes' and the colour wheel for selecting colours works. It's all a bit hit and miss at the moment.

Do you remember 'Etch-a-sketch' drawing toy? On the advertising it promised so much; then, on Christmas day you unwrapped the amazing new magic toy... and it delivered so little....

this drawing programme feels a bit like that at the moment! 

Maybe I should have persevered for longer with my Etch-a-sketch....

So I'll keep going with this drawing programme then.

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Prayer...

'Exalted manna, gladness of the best,'

Bread of heaven lifted high? Or does this mean we gave been given food of the very highest quality?

Gladness of the best? 

I was going to choose the anthem 'I was glad' by Parry, but then I came across Harry Secombe singing Cwm Rhonda, giving it his all.

Monday 24th February - as light as a feather

After a heavy morning - never-ending paperwork... insurance cover for my father’s flat, collecting papers from solicitors, sorting out funeral invoice query, reconciling bank statements, ordering repeat prescription for myself...

And an active afternoon - making chicken curry (using premade sauce and cooked chicken so not that arduous!) and chopping veg for tonight's soup (leek, potato and home-made chicken stock) and tomorrow's casserole...

It was rather nice to have two much, much lighter things to think about;

Yesterday I was astonished to see what appeared to be two soap bubbles gently float down onto the grass, where, to my further surprise, they remained without bursting.

BB went to investigate;

Two small white down feathers lay on the grass. A bird must have dropped them while flying across the garden.  I was rather sorry we hadn't left them there in case the bird came back for them.

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The other 'light' thing is this wonderful, wonderful movement from the Carmen Suite by Bizet, for the next line of the George Herbert poem on prayer;

'Softness, and peace, and joy, and love, and bliss,'

 

Sunday 23rd February - a steady Sunday, ready for Monday

I've had a pretty relaxing weekend, gathering myself ready for the week to come.

I opened a packet that came through the post yesterday; my new medal has arrived

I completed the Conquer Event Challenge to walk the Camino de Santiago  - 480 miles - which I started back on 23rd November 2023. It's taken me a year and a quarter, at around 2000 steps on my wrist tracker per day. My tracker reckons that 2000 steps equals a mile.

Obviously it's a virtual challenge! It's been interesting to follow my track on the map which also allows me to gave a look around at the scenery using Google Street View.

I'm now two miles along the Jurassic Coast trail; I've reached Sandy Bay, a not-so-picturesque view of uniform holiday lodges laid out in rows above the beach and sea. Still, the weather looks better in the street view there than it is here today; the holiday-makers are in swimming things, t shirts, shorts, sun-hats. A reminder of the warmer weather to come.

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One of the books I'm dipping in an out of is by the concert pianist Jeremy Denk 'Every Good Boy Does Fine'

It's part memoir, part teaching about the inner workings of music, part a revelation of how JD began to reach for the soul of music, beyond the notes, and beyond the technique.

Each chapter is headed by a list of the music that is referenced so I'm listening to a whole load of music that is new to me and appreciating it in new ways.

.......

Beth, thank you for introducing me to Keith Jarrett's Koln concert. There's a BBCSounds podcast on the concert in the Artworks series which I found fascinating. How come I never heard of it before?

All this listening as well as thinking about the poem and finding the some music for the next line!

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I find myself thinking over the whole poem when I'm awake at night. Last night I was annoyed to find I couldn't remember 'the soul in paraphrase'... I  hope I've got the memory safe now.

The line for today was very appropriate; 'the six-days world transposing in an hour' for a Sunday.

Now, for Monday; 'A kind of tune, which all things hear and fear;'

So where, maybe in Proverbs, maybe in Job, there's a verse that goes 'the fear of the Lord is the beginning of wisdom '. I'm not sure that this is about the kind of fear that makes one terrified, scared out of your wits, petrified, sick, but fear as in awe, wonder, respect.

I've chosen something composed by Hildegard of Bingen, from the 12th Century, called 'O Power of Wisdom'.

Saturday 22nd February - easy day

 I was going to write 'lazy day' in the title but that's so judgemental, so negative. Anyway, who decides when I am taking it easy or being lazy? I'm taking it easy.

So what's easy?

The chicken in tomato sauce we had for lunch the other day; a tub of fresh tomato and vegetable pasta sauce from the supermarket, some leftover cooked chicken, a handful each of frozen peas and sweetcorn heated up together in the microwave while the pasta was cooking in the saucepan. Minimal washing up too.

I know I could have made my own sauce - sweat some onion and garlic and celery in a little olive oil, add a tin of tomatoes or passatta, season, simmer, check the seasoning and consistency... that's easy enough, but not the same as taking it easy.

Sardines on toast for supper (again, but I'm not complaining!)

Or even quicker, soup and toast...

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I have been reading. 

I've started rereading Helene Hanff' 84 Charing Cross Road; the lively correspondence between HH in New York and a secondhand bookshop in the Charing Cross Road beginning around 1950.

Back in 1975 I was sent a list of music that I should have for the Romantic Piano Music module for the first year of my university course. Like a complete innocent I believed what they had written and was horrified; there were about 30 items of music and books. A music student friend took me to Charing Cross Road and we went up and down and in and out of the shops buying everything secondhand. I didn't know that this was possible! We had a great day, and I took a heavy suitcase of mostly books on the train to university. (My trunk followed on via Red Star parcels).

Ah, memories....

I'm also dipping in and out ofa children's/young adult book called 'My Name is Mina' by David Almond (of 'Skellig' fame; I've not read that yet). It's.... different..... I  have the feeling that Mina's rambling journal entries will become a more cohesive narrative as the story develops.

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Maybe tomorrow I'll get on and do things... maybe I won't....

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The next line of the poem is 'The six- days world transposing in an hour, '

The helpful website I've been using pivots around making good Christians of its readers, and so suggests that we could cause a great change to the world around us if we all spent an hour in prayer. I struggle to spend 10 minutes in prayer, so that's not so encouraging. Taking that view I doubt I'll be making any difference to anyone or anything!

This article by Malcolm Guite in the Church Times has a different approach; that the time in church on a Sunday is an hour well-spent, in recharging between the week that's past, and the week to come.

I went looking for something that would suggest a busy week, but end in calmness, a chance to wind down, take stock, ready to meet whatever the coming week would bring.

Here's the first movement of Sibelius' Karelia Suite. Lovely video as well.

Friday 21st February - seize the moment!

 I checked the weather forecast for Friday yesterday. It's been reasonably accurate recently, and was promising (!) rain until about 9am, dry and cloudy until 11am, a brief glimpse of sun and rain again all afternoon. The temperature was set to feel like about 9°C, which by comparison to the last week or so is warm!

We set off promptly at 10am as the skies cleared to visit Nymans Gardens nearby.

Warm it wasn't, but then neither was it as perishing cold as it has been. The gardens ard in that 'not yet spring' state; snowdrops,  bedraggled crocuses, the occasional camellia bloom. And sudden bursts of colour;

I was not expecting these bright oranges and reds from a stand of bamboo as we came round a corner!

It takes quite a bit of imagination to turn this stretch of brown earth and stitcks into the famous long Summer border.

Never fear, it will be an astonishing feast of colour, over 6 feet tall at the vacuum come July.

The gardens were full of young children charging around everywhere, their bright clothes and wellies covered in mud from playing in the play glade, leaping in and out of the puddles and chasing each other up and down the paths.

I watched one small boy travelling along a path, jumping carefully into the centre of each of the four large puddles along the way, and held my breath to see if he would make a final jump into the pond around the fountain... fortunately he stopped...

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'Reversed thunder, Christ-side-piercing spear'

God's voice when he was talking to Moses on the mountain, and again at Jesus's baptism, sounded like thunder; this line could be describing the kind of prayer where we thunder at God, until our desperation and fury pierces Christ like the spear...

Here's some thunderous piano playing, but with some kind of tenderness within...

I do hope you are enjoying this experiment; I'm finding this to be quite an amazing way of interpreting and understanding the poem.

Thursday 20th February - Bunting in the Apple Tree

 The bunting I hung in the apple tree last summer was completely concealed inside the green leafy tent of the canopy.

All through the winter the only bright colours have been the berries on the holly tree and the bunting. Especially on grey drizzly days like today.

I thought the little colourful triangles would prevent the birds from visiting the birdfeeders, but they seem not to mind.

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My neck has at last improved enough for me to dare to tackle the stitching collaboration piece for this month. Ang and I are combining February and March, so that gives us both a breathing space.

I had a problem with my choice of background fabric, as there was a patch of colour that I didn't want in the middle. So today I learned how to do 'needleturn appliqué to sew a small piece of fabric over the offending blob of colour. Well well, learn something new every day!

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I hope you enjoyed the Ravel piano concerto yesterday. I listened to it again today... I think it is fantastic.

Today's line takes a different tack; when George Herbert was writing, 'engines' would have referred to siege engines used to besiege a city; catapults, battering rams, and so forth. 

It's the kind of prayer one uses when under pressure, battering against God. Anne Lammott discusses this type of prayer in the first part of her book 'Help, Thanks Wow'. (Be warned, she's fairly sweary!)

'Sinner's tow'r' immediately had me humming 'the name of the Lord is a strong tower, the people run in to it and they are saved.'

I stumbled across this cello concerto this morning. 

Well, Wow! Unbelievable playing, so full of emotion. I went hunting for the whole cello concert to find out 'how the story began'.

Wednesday 19th February - there's life

in the garden but you have to look carefully. Apart from the obvious plants in patio pots, and daffodils and snowdrops in the grass, there are signs of new growth hidden in the old leaves and tangled vines

My gardener came today and spent several hours raking out leaves from 'Eyeore's Gloomy Patch' as I call the damper, shadier side of the garden. She was raking very cautiously as yesterday in someone else's garden she disturbed a toad... I warned her that there was a large mottled toad on that side of the garden last year. (Sadly it wasn't up to eating all the slugs by itself though).

One the leaved and brambles were cleared, and the vines brought under control, I could see little green spears poking through the soil, and tiny leaves leaves just beginning to grow on the vines.

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With the help of the website; the 'soul in paraphrase'  is suggesting that the summary of how your soul feels is your prayer, and the 'heart in pilgrimage' is about one's heart on a journey towards God.

Now, today, 'The Christian plummet sounding heav'n and earth'; the plummet is like a plumb line, used to measure depth...

The Ravel Concerto for the left hand begins with the very deepest sounds of a contrabassoon. The the piano part reaches up, striving towards the higher notes and the concerto is well under way.

Settle down, have your coffee and your knitting to hand, and watch, mesmerised by the wonderful Yuja Wang playing with great power, and then the most beautiful delicacy, as we travel through a soundscape of power, love, glory, chaos, tenderness, confusion, war, simplicity, and finally reconciliation and victory. 

From the depths to the highest heaven...

It's 18 minutes long; put your phone on silent, and immerse yourself...

Or at least that's what I did.

What a composer!

What a pianist!

Tuesday 18th February - Look! Daffodils!

 Back when I was younger and more energetic, before 2020, and still hurtling round the county in my car loaded with musical instruments,  watching both the clock and the speedometer and desperately trying to get to the next school with enough time to park, unload, set up and pause for breath...

...back in those (mostly) happy and headlong days, I still had time to watch the seasons changing the hedgerows beside the country lanes. 

The first daffodils always appeared in February  at a particular junction where I would leave the main route, a narrow, twisty, treacherous, high-speed rat-run, for a smaller lane (still a narrow, twisty, and treacherous rat-run). I had time for a glimpse, 'they're here', and then eyes on the road again.

Today I saw signs that I might very well have the joy of February daffodils in my own garden

With any luck they will be able to take over the work of cheering up my world once the snowdrops, which began flowering just before Christmas, have finished.

I have a few potatoes beginning to chit in the kitchen.  I'll get some more started soon.

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My neck is slowly improving. The funeral, when I sat in the cold for too long, was exactly a week ago. I can now turn my head most of the way from level with each shoulder in turn. Heat, gentle stretching and very careful movement seems the best way forward.

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I found a useful website which helped me through the second line. 

It's as though the Breath of Life, Breath of God, which gives us life, returns to God as the breath of our prayers...

Tomorrow is a continuation of this idea;

The soul in paraphrase, the heart in pilgrimage

 I've chosen the second movement of Bach's Double Violin Concerto; a loving conversation between the violins, sharing, agreeing and expanding the themes together.

 

Monday 17th February - sunshine makes all the difference

 It might even have been warm outside; I didn't go outside to see.

But the look of the day; the brighter colors, the glossy laurel leaves glinting dark green and reflecting bright highlights, blue sky, the colours on the birds..,

I resumed paperwork duties after a week off. It's good to look back over the day; the heap of empty envelops for the recycling bucket, a small pile of correspondence to be posted, and emails fired off into the wide blue yonder. Even the 'hold' muzak on the phone was endurance and the queues were short.

I knew I was coming up 'from the depths' when I started being able to tackle the harder sudukos on my tablet again!

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I made a 'jam cake' which as far as I am concerned is my usual 2-egg all-in-one recipe Victoria sponge with a tablespoon of jam swirled through it. It is a home-made jam with a pretty solid set, so I warmed it first.

I also loaded the bread machine with a half wholemeal, half white loaf. 

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I've enjoyed thinking about the first line of the poem off and on through the day. What a banquet of delicious food I've had; roast chicken and red cabbage for lunch, home-made bread for baked beans on toast this evening. (My mother adds a little red currant jelly to the red cabbage; it makes all the difference).

Here's the poem again;

I reckon I've got the first line firmly in my head now. Tomorrow I shall think about the second line; God's breath in man returning to his birth. There are a lot of layers; the hymn 'O breath of God come sweeping through us', Ezekiel and his valley of bones...

And then, some music...

In the end I chose the Pastoral music from Messiah as music to breathe with.

Sunday 16th February - The church's banquet, Angels' age

 

https://brightonmuseums.org.uk/visit/royal-pavilion-garden/what-to-see/banqueting-room/

Who hasn't gone to a stately home and stood in awe at the dining table, set with rows of knives and forks, various gleaming glasses, elaborate centre pieces? I've often wondered about what would be served for each of the courses.

Between now and the beginning of Lent I'm going to use a George Herbert poem as a starting point for prayer;

https://www.poetryfoundation.org/poems/44371/prayer-i

There are 14 lines; one line a day takes us to the beginning of March.

The words are so powerful. I'm not sure I understand it, but I can always chase down an analysis on the Internet. 

The idea of prayer being like an eternal banquet, where we are all invited to come and take our fill is astounding. 

'Panis Angelicus' must surely be the best choice of music for the first line?

Saturday 15th February - halfway

 That is, halfway through February. 

Kurt Vonnegut added 2 extra seasons (have I mentioned this before?) either side of Winter;

Kurt Vonnegut: “There Are Six Seasons Instead of Four”

In 1978, Kurt Vonnegut gave the commencement speech at Fredonia State College in upstate New York. The speech was published under the title “How to Make Money and Find Love!” in a collection of the author’s commencement addresses, If This Isn’t Nice, What Is? In the speech, Vonnegut suggested to the graduating class that the traditional four seasons don’t make sense for northern areas of the country.

 One sort of optional thing you might do is to realize that there are six seasons instead of four. The poetry of four seasons is all wrong for this part of the planet, and this may explain why we are so depressed so much of the time. I mean, spring doesn’t feel like spring a lot of the time, and November is all wrong for autumn, and so on.

Here is the truth about the seasons: Spring is May and June. What could be springier than May and June? Summer is July and August. Really hot, right? Autumn is September and October. See the pumpkins? Smell those burning leaves?

Next comes the season called Locking. November and December aren’t winter. They’re Locking. Next comes winter, January and February. Boy! Are they ever cold!

What comes next? Not spring. ‘Unlocking’ comes next. What else could cruel March and only slightly less cruel April be? March and April are not spring. They’re Unlocking.

https://kottke.org/19/10/kurt-vonnegut-there-are-six-seasons-instead-of-four

That means there are only two more weeks of Winter!

Thinking like this stops me from feeling resentful that February isn't more Spring-like.

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I'm experimenting with the idea of summarising each week of the year at the back of my diary/notebook/day book.

Something like this;

This is the second week of January. I'm going through photos and my diary to create the weekly page; we are already at week 6 or 7, I haven't counted up properly so I'm playing 'catch-up' at the moment. Something like a travel journal through the year. 

I'm not planning to share it; some pages (like the very beginning of January when my father died) will be too personal. But I thought I'd share the idea.

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Sanctus

The last day... from the Congolese Missa Luba.

I've copied some pictures from the accompanying video

Friday 14th February - books and gifts

 Valentine's day!

I received red roses and a chocolate heart from BB...

I kept quiet, as I wasn't sure if this would arrive in time;

It's another booknook kit, with an astronomy theme. He's still in kit-building mode, big time.

I was so pleased when it turned up at lunchtime!

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My neck is massively improved. I've spent nearly all the day re-reading Murder Most Royal by S J Bennett and finished it this afternoon. I really enjoy her books, and there's another in the series coming out this year.

.......

The current Book Club choice is Broken Threads by Mishal Husain; the story of her parents and grandparents during the partition of India. It's interesting, but not a 'pafe-turner! The next  Book Club choice is The Door to Door Bookstore. It's currently 99p on kindle so I  downloaded it and made a start. It might grow on me... The Donna Leon, Jewels of Paradise, is another 99p download. I enjoy the Inspector Brunetti series, but this is a stand-al9ne novel. We shall see...

.......

Sanctus 

This is the Hilliyard Ensemble singing a 14th century anonymous Czech Samctus, while Jan Garbarek improvises on saxophone, from the cd Officium. I love this cd.

Thursday 13th February - I would have preferred to be wrong

 I had a feeling I would find it difficult to sleep much last night. I was right...

Luckily I don't have anything much that needs doing this week. More youtube... watching snippets of The Crown (which we didn't watch when it was on television) and Sharpe (which we did watch all those years ago).

Plus reading up on stitches for embroidering along the edges on our Cover Sory patches in a few month's time;

Pictures from Internet 

Some of those designs do look a leetle bit too intricate for me.

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I'm hoping for a better night's sleep tonight. I had contacted the Lung Disease clinic and they confirmed it's OK for me to take paracetamol (I take a cocktail of weird and wonderful meds so I daren't take anything else without checking first). I took the first lot this afternoon and it has made a huge difference. Phew! For what I've just received I am truly grateful. 

Listening to Paul Gambucci's quiz show, Counterpoint, on BBCsounds usually sends me to sleep in ten minutes,  so one episode lasts me several nights (sorry, Paul). So I'm full of hope for tonight. 

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Sanctus 

From The Armed Man, by Karl Jenkins. 

Wednesday 12th February - not sensible

Sometimes one just doesn't want to be sensible.

Yesterday afternoon was considerably warmer than Monday; 'feels like' 3°C as opposed 'feels like -3°C the day before.

So I sat outside for a couple of hours, wrapped up in blankets and thoroughly enjoyed seeing the children, and meeting my brother's family, and the cousins, and my uncle. This doesn't happen anywhere near often enough. 

Today I woke at 4.30am with cystitis and an incredibly stiff neck! Misery!

I fired off a message to the doctor (everything is done online now) mentioning that I had what is known as a 'rescue course' of coamoxiclav antibiotics - common practice for people with respiratory conditions. Back came a text confirming UTI and recommending I start the course. So I was able to begin antibiotics within a couple of hours of the first symptoms and that's already under control.

My neck is responding to heat packs, staying warm, .very gentle stretches and moving very cautiously. 

I'm trying not to whinge or whimper!

One of my daughter's drawings

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Sanctus 

Did you know Andrew Lloyd Webber wrote a Requiem? I used to listen to it all the time; we bought the record when it came out...

It's actually the 'Hosanna, blessed is he who comes in the name of the Lord' part of the prayer.

(The Pie Jesu' section is much more well known)

Tuesday 11th February - 'parting is such sweet sorrow'

I'm pretty well all done in after this afternoon; the funeral service followed by tea and cake at a nearby pub.

I'll just say that it all went as we planned. My brother read the Eulogy he'd written and it was very good, and we all raided the coffin spray for flowers to take home afterwards. 

Do you do that? It seems so sad to leave them there,  withering and rotting and unappreciated. Here is my bunch. They won't last very long, but I'll enjoy them for few days.

At the last funeral I attended the flowers were left for a week in a patio area of the garden. The deer would come and eat the flowers.  They were very choosy about which ones they took, with unintended amusing consequences. For some of the tributes with name on they preferred the flowers used to make the letters, leaving the borders alone. For others they ate just the borders, leaving the letters!

The finger buffet at the pub was fine (phew) but I got rather cold sitting outside,  inspite of all the extra blankets we took with us for ourselves and those who came and joined us for a wee chat. 

It was a lovely moment for all of us cousins (except one in the USA) to be together; there are only about ten years difference between the oldest - a mere 25 days older than me - and the youngest. Now that we are in our 60s it seems like we're all the same age.

....

I did distract myself with a rough sketch this morning,  encouraged by your comments;

It's the most useless paper for using watercolour; it's only a cheap desk diary. That gulps, though; it makes the sketches less 'precious'. 

Birds in flight are not easy. I wasn't concentrating very hard!

.......

SANCTUS 

Verdi's requiem today.A favourite of mine, and my father’s. It's composed in such a big, operatic style.

Good night. Sleep tight.

Monday 10th February - familiarity breeds....

Confidence, not contempt, in this case. I spent a good chunk of this morning dealing with my father’s finances, and I think I've managed to complete the processes (different for every bank!) for almost everything. J

To begin with I was very nervous, but today's calls and paperworks were remarkably simple and straightforward. Speaking to real people was such a help.

I was a little taken aback by one company which had their recorded answervoice say 'I'm sorry for your loss'. I don't think that delivered any sincerity at all!

.....

I've had this annoying little 3-part round going in my head off and on for weeks and weeks now. I used to teach it in music classes.

If nothing else it expanded their vocabulary to include the word 'persevere'!

It's helped me to brace up and get through a number of tasks over the past weeks!

.....

I knitted for another twenty minutes or so today, and made a start on the February Cover Story Stitching.

This is my piece for January; oh, hang on a mo,

I can't believe I forgot to photograph it before I sent it to Ang! Ah well. Maybe she'll post it for tomorrow... I'll have to ask her to send me a picture. She'll be laughing... because she did exactly that with her piece!

......

I listened again to the Fauré setting of the Sanctus, from his requiem, this morning. It is so beautiful that it did bring a tear, or two, to my eyes.

This next Sanctus is from Bach's Mass in B minor; the first section is joyful and expansive; the second suddenly becomes a merry dance, everyone joining in, all holding hands and laughing...

That's how I responded... over to you...

Sunday 9th February - I've had a few words with myself

That sounded ominous!  But really, I was getting fed up with the amount of time I was wasting on computer solitaire and sudoku. I can understand why people get addicted to online gaming, like online slot machines or whatever; you tap 'play', tap the cards, the game cones out or not, you tap 'play', it comes out or not, you tap 'play'.... and half an hour has gone past.

When I stop I don't feel improved, fulfilled, satisfied... so what was the point? Just a sort of oblivion, filling time...

So, like I said, I had a word with myself and challenged myself to a day without solitaire or sudoku. It's ten hours later, and so far, so good. I'm looking forward to feeling really pleased with myself.

.......

What have I been doing instead? I was reading the kindle sample for this book;

(I'll read the sample, but I'm not sure I want the book.) In the introduction I read this;

Well there's a thought. I picked up my abandoned sock, looked at the clock, and started knitting. Fifteen minute's didn't feel long enough and I had no reason to stop so I kept going until the yarn colour changed from oranges to reds.

(A lot more productive than solitaire or suduko!)

......

I've learned that the plump, slightly puffed up robin without a red breast us probably a dunnock. 

I've never knowingly seen a dunnock before. It was around yesterday,  and again today. Too fat for a robin or a sparrow,  too big for a wren. I have seen all of these in the garden at various times.

.......

The squirrel has found the birdfeeder in the apple tree;

When I looked back this is the first time I have drawn anything for a month. I haven't used a paintbrush for nearly two months! Where has the person that is 'me' been?

I'm glad to be coming back home, as it were.

.....

After a week of listening to different settings of the Nunc Dimittis, it's time for a change.  I've settled on the great hymn of praise, at the beginning of the communion prayer. It is sung by the angels in Isaiah chapter 6

Isaiah’s Commission

6 In the year that King Uzziah died, I saw the Lord, high and exalted, seated on a throne; and the train of his robe filled the temple. 2 Above him were seraphim, each with six wings: With two wings they covered their faces, with two they covered their feet, and with two they were flying. 3 And they were calling to one another:

“Holy, holy, holy is the Lord Almighty;
    the whole earth is full of his glory.”

In the communion service the prayer continues 

Blessed is who who comes in the name of the Lord

Hosanna in the highest.

Here's a setting which, to my mind, is a picture of a 'heavenly' heaven;

From the Fauré Requiem, sung by Voces8.