Unbought Delicacies: Christina Rosetti

Sunday, 22 May 2011

Christina Rosetti

Found a very beautfiul book of her poetry at the tip this morning. Dating from 1908, it has the beauty of handcut pages, all riffled along the edges, and the inscription 'To my dear wife, xmas 1908'. This is the portrait in the frontispiece:

For the princely sum of only 50p, and for that I got a good piece of grill for making my smoker, and a big pot of viola labridoricus, complete with an as yet unidentified sapling in the middle as well!

3 comments:

Jane and Chris said...: Such a beautiful book...at the tip!!!How sad...somebody once treasured that book, and now you do.
Jane x; 23 May 2011 at 01:39
ally said...: What a remarkable find. Her poem "Remember Me"seems fitting for the unknown woman of 1908 who will have left something of herself between the pages. She wrote the words to In The Bleak Mid Winter, which is such a lovely carol. I think that book has been waiting for you to treasure it. Ally x; 23 May 2011 at 08:20
Anonymous said...: what an amazing find and so very sad to hear it had been discarded..slip a note'tween it's(I keep wanting to call this book 'her') explaining it's provenence,
xxx
coffeee Sue; 24 May 2011 at 10:57

I have found such joy

I have found such joy in simple things;
A plain, clean room, a nut-brown loaf of bread,
A cup of milk, a kettle as it sings,
The shelter of a roof above my head,
And in a leaf-laced square along the floor,
Where yellow sunlight glimmers through the door.
I have found such joy in things that fill
My quiet days: a curtain's blowing grace,
A potted plant upon my window sill,
A rose, fresh-cut and placed within a vase;
A table cleared, a lamp beside a chair,
And books I long have loved beside me there.
Oh, I have found such joys I wish I might
Tell every woman who goes seeking far
For some elusive, feverish delight,
That very close to home the great joys are:
The elemental things- old as the race,
Yet never, through the ages, commonplace.

~ Grace Noll Crowell

Ideas for handmade gifts

Small knitteds - gloves, scarves, hot water bottle covers, hats, tea cosies, phone covers, little toys,,cushion covers, bags. Some of these can be felted/fulled for extra interest.
Edibles - chutneys and jams, pickles, nice teas in a vintage/retro tin, sweeties, toffees, mustard, home made wine and liqueurs, home dried fruits, ketchups.
For the home - trimmed tea towels, handknitted dishcloths, quilted wallhangings, small samplers, restored picture frames, pot pourri, lavender bags, covered coathangers, little scented bags for hanging on handles, framed photos of family,etc you've taken yourself, pincushion,needle book, scissor keeper, book of promises (eg babysitting, 1 hour's housework, the ironing, etc)
Bathtime - homemade soap, bath oils, bath salts, knitted washcloths, herbal bags for the bath, hand sewn toilet bags, trimmed hand towels, homemade lotions and potions packed in pretty jars and bottles.
For the garden - home saved seed in handmade decorated packets; homemade handcream, exfoliating soap, wheat bag for those digger's aches and pains!

Handmade books, personalised printed notepaper and envelopes.
Hamper of bits and bobs from the above lists, packed in a pretty lined basket.

I'll add some more as and when I think of them; These can be used all year round and easily tailored to the recipient - everyone loves a homemade gift. :)

Inspiring thoughts.............

I saw a man, an old Cilician, who occupied an acre or two of land that no one wanted.
A patch not worth the ploughing, unrewarding for flocks, unfit for vineyards;
he, however, by planting here and there among the scrub cabbages or white lilies and verbena and flimsy poppies, fancied himself a king in wealth, and coming home late in the evening, loaded his board with unbought delicacies.
Virgil

I had no theories to prove. I merely wanted to try living by my own hands, independently as far as possible from a system of division of labour in which the participant loses most of the pleasure of making and growing things for himself. I wanted to bring in my own fuel and smell its sweet smell as it burned in the hearth I had made. I wanted to grow my own food, or forage after it. In short I wanted to do as much as I could for myself, because I had already realised from partial experience the inexpressible joy of doing so.

Harlan Hubbard, Shantyboat: A River Way of Life

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Sunday, 22 May 2011

Christina Rosetti

3 comments: