Unbought Delicacies: 01/12/2013

Friday, 6 December 2013

Wednesday, 4 December 2013

Naomi Shihab Nye: "Kindness"

Before you know what kindness really is
you must lose things,
feel the future dissolve in a moment
like salt in a weakened broth.
What you held in your hand,
what you counted and carefully saved,
all this must go so you know
how desolate the landscape can be
between the regions of kindness.
How you ride and ride
thinking the bus will never stop,
the passengers eating maize and chicken
will stare out the window forever.

Before you learn the tender gravity of kindness,
you must travel where the Indian in a white poncho
lies dead by the side of the road.
You must see how this could be you,
how he too was someone
who journeyed through the night
with plans and the simple breath
that kept him alive.

Before you know kindness
as the deepest thing inside,
you must know sorrow
as the other deepest thing.
You must wake up with sorrow.
You must speak to it till your voice
catches the thread of all sorrows
and you see the size of the cloth.
Then it is only kindness
that makes sense anymore,
only kindness that ties your shoes
and sends you out into the day
to mail letters and purchase bread,
only kindness that raises its head
from the crowd of the world to say
it is I you have been looking for,
and then goes with you every where
like a shadow or a friend

"Kindness

Tuesday, 3 December 2013

Eatooteries - The White Rabbit at Lyndhurst

Had a good meal there last night on the way back from further down in Hampshire. Lovely bar, tasteful and abundant Christmas decorations (although still a little early to my mind), nice lad behind the bar, decent glass of house white.

My starter was mushrooms in a pepper and Stilton sauce, on a hot buttered muffin

This was delicious, only grumble was the cold plate it came on

Main course was a vegetable tagine with roasted red peppers and couscous and soured cream

Couldn't fault this one, was very very good.

Very reasonably priced, decent level of music noise, good attentive but not 'in your face' staff, lovely bar.

We drove through the main street on the way home where the Christmas lights had been strung across the road - simple but colourful garlands of plain coloured lights. One of the most beautiful displays I've seen.

Well done Lyndhurst.

http://www.bing.com/search?q=The+White+Rabbit+Lyndhurst&FORM=QSRE7

Back to slow.............

Been a bit of a weekend what with one thing and another; Saturday was all day at the Guild of WSD, shared a selling table and made a wee bit of money, bought some lovely stuff too, then was the lunch and AGM. Sunday I visited the local garden centre's award wining Christmas display - while I don't do Christmas any more, there are some very beautiful things to covet and inspire as you walk through the themed areas.

I did buy him, though, couldn't resist him!

Yesterday was a family funeral down in Hampshire - very difficult for a lot of reasons, namely family issues; let's just say ma glad I can choose my friends lol Anyhoo, done and over now, was lovely to see my three favourite cousins again.
Today is the back to slow bit; I now find myself well enough to fully get back into the household stuff- cleaning out, feeding and watering the animals, getting the logs in and lighting the stoves, emptying the water butt from the washing machine - all the heavy stuff I have been unable to do for so long now. It feels good, and I really think I'm more or less mended now

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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