Unbought Delicacies: RIP Jesus

Friday, 9 November 2012

RIP Jesus

My last little call duck died last night :( When we lived at our last house I had several Call ducks, and the girl who lived over the road took a fancy to keeping ducks, so plunged headlong into it, as she was wont to do with a lot of things, and got some for her garden. Upshot was that by the time we moved in the August of that year, she's had enough of them, so brought them up to me to have.That was 1997, so Jesus was 15 years old - a HUGE age for a wee duck.He was named before I took him on by the way. He was a wonderful wee character - would never win any Call duck prizes, he was pure white but was very long-legged and looked more like a seagull really :lol: He got on with every other duck that was ever intorduced up there even the huge Runner drakes I have now, and the big Rouen drake I inherited year back - joined in everything, was part of the general duck group. His great friend was Gracie, my lovely Khaki Campbell duck, but he outlived her. He survived one fox attack (possibly more that we don't know about) and the horrendous badger attack too. He was a survivor :D
Will miss him. I think there is a wee apple tree in a pot somewhere to bury him under - if any duck deserves an apple tree, he does.
What a duck.

(the pic isn't of him but quite similar - think longer legs lol)

2 comments:

Anonymous said...: RIP Jesus (((HUGS))) Sarah xx (Kathy, Scotland); 9 November 2012 at 16:31
Writing from the Edge said...: 31 Sorry to hear about your duck. It is always so sad to lose an animal. I have lost all my special hens this year, and I miss them very much. 15 seems an incredible age for a duck, I must say!; 11 November 2012 at 23:26

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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Friday, 9 November 2012

RIP Jesus

2 comments: