Wild harvest

Up in Speyside (malt whisky country) for the weekend, we couldn't resist doing some wild harvesting. This is my daughter picking rose hips, with the intention of making rose hip syrup (which didn't get made, but there's only so much you can do in one holiday weekend).
This looks a fairly tranquil scene, but in fact we had the northern version of the gale that brought down the branch in yesterday's post. It was quite tricky picking rose hips, as the bushes were buffeted around by the wind and the thorny branches were going every which way.

Lady-in-Waiting

Davina, our daughter, is getting a little bored with being home on maternity

leave. She normally teaches a large class of 5-6 year old children, and finds it very quiet at home. Wouldn't you think she'd enjoy the peace, while she can? Davina wanted to walk, so I hitched up Toby and off we set for a gentle amble in the brilliant sunshine which often accompanies a cold, frosty, day.



We went past the watermill - plenty of ducks today.





Then we turned right at the manor house and along past Troutbeck Farm. I was hoping the alpacas, or the pigs, would be around, but we had to settle for these,

and after that it was empty fields and lovely views.

Peaceful, beautiful, refreshing.

Getting Grounded

This photo was taken by my youngest daughter for a 4-H contest. Looks like she has a pretty good eye already!
The final task in the book, Walking in This World, asks you to list the things that make you feel grounded. Julia Cameron says that the regular use of this tool is one of the most confirming rituals possible in a creative life and helps to put a sense of grounded celebration into our creative life. It does this because it emphasizes life itself.
The book goes on to say, "While we may "live for our work," our life is, and must be, larger than our work. By allowing the dailiness of life to step forward again, our work feels not only good, but better, when we place it within the comforting confines of our ongoing routines and relationships.
My list of things that make me feel grounded:
1. Reading a novel that I can really get into2. Gardening...mostly weeding3. Vacuuming4. A long, hot bath5. De-cluttering6. Reading the Psalms7. Driving slowly down a dirt road8. Ironing my husband's shirts9. Slowly washing dishes while I daydream out the window10. A slow, long walk
It's interesting to note that most of the things on my list are done slowly and most require no thought process while doing them. What things do you do to help you feel grounded?

The Russians are coming

Following on from my mention of socialist medicine in my last post, I thought you might like to see the Russian flag flying over Edinburgh.

Or rather the very small part of Edinburgh occupied currently by the Moscow State Circus.



I took these shots from a shopping complex and cinema built on former industrial land at Leith docks. This area is a mixture of working docks, mooring for the former royal yacht Britannia, blocks of flats (see my post 'The Concrete Shore'), waste land, and the Scottish Government offices at Victoria Quay. The line of blue lights reflecting in the water is just in front of the government offices.

There didn't seem to be much happening at the circus. It all looked rather forlorn sitting in its bit of wasteland, which was how I felt three long hours later after seeing 'The Hobbit' at the cinema. Three hours of my life I will not have again. Three hours of orcs, goblins and slaying, although there was a cute Amish dwarf for comic relief. Perhaps the circus would have been a better choice.

Edited to say, in the light of comments: make up your own mind about The Hobbit - if you want to see it, go and see it. I am just not a particularly hobbit sort of person. Everyone has their faults...

Wearing of the Green

HAPPY SAINT PATRICK’S DAY!

Green Tree Frog – Audubon Society Aquarium of the Americas
New Orleans, Louisiana (April 2003)

Hardwick-Sywell-Mears Ashby-Hardwick

Led by Barry. With me, Gordon and Maureen. Cold weather, strong wind. sunny at times. almost 9 miles in all.
One of those shall we /shan't we days. Snow flurrying about, car windscreen and doors iced up, but the promise of sunshine too. No more than a few minutes behind schedule we set off to Hardwick and parked near the church. Into the teeth of the icy blast - after five minutes, I decided I needed my waterproof-windproof layer on top of the three I already had.We headed north along the road out of the village, and when the road bends to the right, we took a footpath to the left. It leads to the opposite corner of the first field, and then across the next field. We ended up slightly too far over and had to walk back a few yards to the gap in the hedge, and footbridge over the stream.The route across the next field was clearer, and at the next hedge we turned left following the field boundary west, past one hedge, then across another field. We met a bridleway, and turned to the left, going south.As we reached the minor road near Hardwick Lodge, we were greeted by barking dogs - in an enclosed area. The easier path here turns more or less west down the lane and skirts the grounds of this house and others.We turned southwest to meet the corner of Hardwick Short Wood, and followed the edge of this wood, and then Sywell Wood. After passing Wood Lodge Farm we met the Sywell Road, going past Sywell Airport and Aviation Museum.

Exhibit 'A'

Exhibit 'B'

Exhibit 'C'

Barry had half promised us there'd be a coffee shop, but apart from the Aviator Hotel, we saw none.
Just before the main village we took a path to the left, walked for a short distance along the road and then turned left again, and slightly uphill. At the top of this field there was a seat, but we preferred to choose a more sheltered spot on the other side of the trees - not quite the comfort of a café but not bad in the sunshine.
Onward and down to the stream, then up again and across to Mears Ashby.

How about this for a guard dog? No need for walkies, either.

Along the road east as far as Highfield Road, we turned left and then along a footpath heading north. This continued over farmland, then across the Wellingborough to Sywell Road, then more farmland. Some of the fields were pretty sticky, even though there was still ice on top of the puddles.

Almost done!

We crossed another path, but carried on north before the path turned slightly northeast and back into Hardwick, past a farm, and a few houses. We turned right and were back at the car. Cold, muddy in places, but satisfying.

of walk - part 1Part 2
The map is in two parts - technical "issues".

Awake My Soul!

In a book I'm reading called Sacred Hearts by Sarah Dunant, I liked this passage that talked about the 2:00 A.M. office of Matins which is observed in monasteries and nunneries.
This novel takes place in an Italian, 16th century, Benedictine convent. There were many young girls living there, and this passage begins with them: Girls of their age are greedy for sleep, and Matins, slicing its way through the middle of the night, is the harshest of all the convent offices.
Yet its brutality is also its great sweetness, for its very meaning is to coax and draw up the soul through the body's resistance, and when one is pulled from sleep there can be less distraction from the noise and chatter of the mind.
Zuana knows sisters who, as they age, grow to love this service above all others, to feed off it like nectar, for once you have disciplined yourself to transcend tiredness, the wonder of being in His presence while the rest of the world is asleep is a rare gift, a form of privilege without pride, feasting without gluttony.
I found myself thinking, "Yes, I experienced that feeling during the 2:00 A.M. feeding when I had babies." It happens now when I have a sleepless night. I feel like I've been given a precious gift of time and quiet alone with God.
I didn't feel that way with the first one or two. I was mostly aggravated then. It took more precious children, realizing with each subsequent one how swiftly time moves on, to begin to appreciate and cherish those early morning feedings.
And now when I experience the occasional sleepless night, I get excited to have a house that's perfectly quiet. It's a great time to pray, think, and plan. I sit on my front porch swing, turn on the fan to keep the mosquitos at bay, and have a great time alone with my heavenly Father.
And if it's a bright, moonlit night, I might go bike riding...which reminds me of the time one midnight when the moon was almost as bright as day, I woke up my older children to come take a ride with me. Laurel couldn't be stirred, but Garrett came. We made a great memory that night. I'm sure many more memories will come flooding back in this upcoming year when he goes to Iraq. But we won't go there now...