Wednesday, February 15, 2012
No,not B Baggins:) He is quite definitely not the little maid! Here he is walking up the bridle path onto Blackamoor yesterday morning. It was still very icy which took me by surprise as all the roads and footpaths were clear. As we walked along though we discovered several little signs of Spring along the way.
The Mole had been working very hard all the morning, spring- cleaning his little home. First with brooms, then with dusters; then on ladders and steps and chairs, with a brush and a pail of whitewash; till he had dust in his throat and eyes, and splashes of whitewash all over his black fur, and an aching back and weary arms. Spring was moving in the air above and in the earth below and around him, penetrating even his dark and lowly little house with its spirit of divine discontent and longing.
The Rip Van Winkles of the wild lie quiescent in their winter habitats, awaiting the days of warmer winds and softer airs. Around a bend in the lane comes a little maid: on her shoulders the snow lies thick. It fills the folds of her dress and mingles with her bonny brown hair. But there is April in her face and July in her eyes and in her hands are celandines and yellow coltsfoot blooms.
Sunday, February 12, 2012
An e-mail last week from my friend P enthusing about a family history breakthrough prompted me to do some work my own family history. It's a good while since I looked at it as the little research I've done in the last couple of years has been on my husband's family. In the meantime Find My Past has put a lot of Cheshire parish records online and as I gazed at the family group sheet for William Wright and Sarah Worthington (click to enlarge the photo)I thought in a very desultory fashion that I'd check to see whether I could find Sarah's baptism. To my utter amazement there it was! Sarah dau of Isaac and Hannah Worthington of Mobberley. She was the only one of their children to be baptized in a non-conformist church. There has never been any sign of non-conformity in my family so although I'd scoured the parish registers from all the surrounding C of E churches I hadn't even considered looking at non-conformist registers. I've been looking for this for over twenty years!! That will teach me to look at all the possible sources however unlikely they might appear to be.
I was lucky enough to find not only her baptism but her date of birth as well.
Tuesday, February 07, 2012
B Baggins is great friends with my friend P's dog Bertie and on Saturday afternoon we took them up on Blackamoor just as the snow was starting.
Saturday, February 04, 2012
I leant upon a coppice gate
When Frost was spectre-gray,
And Winter’s dregs made desolate
The weakening eye of day.
The tangled bine-stems scored the sky
Like strings of broken lyres,
And all mankind that haunted nigh
Had sought their household fires.
The land’s sharp features seemed to be
The Century’s corpse outleant,
His crypt the cloudy canopy,
The wind his death-lament.
The ancient pulse of germ and birth
Was shrunken hard and dry,
And every spirit upon earth
Seemed fervourless as I.
At once a voice arose among
The bleak twigs overhead
In a full-hearted evensong
Of joy illimited ;
An aged thrush, frail, gaunt, and small,
In blast-beruffled plume,
Had chosen thus to fling his soul
Upon the growing gloom.
So little cause for carolings
Of such ecstatic sound
Was written on terrestrial things
Afar or nigh around,
That I could think there trembled through
His happy good-night air
Some blessed Hope, whereof he knew
And I was unaware.
This poem by Thomas Hardy seems very appropriate for the present weather, Old Man Winter has come to remind us that he isn't finished with us just yet. The photographs are mine apart from the songthrush which I've borrowed from the web - a small local nature blog called Westfield Life