The Pheasant

The pheasant

A royal visitor to our garden

clothed in robes of silk

glowing in the sunlight

copper and gold,

purple, blue, red

white scarf snowy white.

he stands on the rail

six feet from our window

does he know he’s free

from gun and dog

strutting on the lawn

beneath the tree?

stay pretty bird

in sunshine bright

nature’s living treasure

for eyes to admire

not guns to blast

but to give us pleasure

Seeing things more clearly

Years ago all films and photographs were black and white (with many shades in-between). Colour was sometimes added to photographs by special ink — such as tinting essential features. My mother had a photograph of one of my sisters, which had been done on glass and tinted. Such tinting was nothing like the present-day colour photography. Looking at old photographs, I rather like the simple black and white snaps. But then, maybe that is because they are reminders of my youth — a time when things were much more simple in spite of many problems. (As my son says, 'Ah, nostalgia. It isn't what it used to be.') In actual fact, the 30's and 40's were indeed far more grey than today. Colour books, colour films, colour photographs, colour entertainment — slashing, crashing, flashing on TV screens, have completely changed our view of the world around us.
For many people, including children, the recent snow has been a pleasure. True, a problem as well. And for some, a nuisance and a hindrance to work and travel. I recall heavy falls in past years. On occasions, wondering if I have to walk the two bus journey's home. One morning, sitting on the top of a double-decker as went over a bridge and sliding right round into the main traffic lane. Walking through snow drifts with snow higher than my wellies. And being in cars during snow storms and on icy road. More recently, falling over and needing medical treatment. But the joyful times far outweigh the others.
Now, we can sit looking out of our window and wonder at the simple black and white beauty. The brightness of our potted plants stands out too. How rich is just a little colour with such a wonderful background. And what a blessing to have that view, and above all - eyes to see it!

An Answer To Prayer?

I have been having painful problems with my right knee for a little while now. An Xray was taken last week. But my bones are not suspect. Damage may have been done to something or other. While waiting for it to be investigated, I was advised to exercise on level ground where possible. Living on a hill means I take it easy going up and down, but for walks we choose canal paths.
On Sunday, we took this photo of a duck splashing around in the Ulverston Canal. There were a number of them and it was fun to watch.
Monday was labour intensive — washing, ironing and cleaning. Yesterday I worked on my book and did a bit of blogging. I have a number of friends on the Internet who share similar interests (especially writing). I have a great deal of fun with one who lives in Australia. What a laugh we have at times. This is good because I have lost a lot of friends and family these past few years.
In the afternoon, we walked to town. It gave me a bit of exercise.
Today I found that my knee was hardly troubling me. I have been trying not to twist it in any way. After working on my book, I went in the garden and did some pruning, plus a small amount of weeding. My knee is not troubling me. Inflammation down? Whatever had slipped out had slipped back? That which had causing the stabbing sensation shifted? Or an answer to prayer? I know that I am being prayed for — just as I pray for others. I don't believe in 'shopping list' prayers. I see prayer as co-operation in the healing power of nature, working with God to achieve his will for all mankind. Many things can hinder healing. But if we are right with God, and the time is right for healing, 'all things work together for good'.
For me, religion—Christianity is a way of life. A follower of the way, rather than an observer of the three static R's — rules, rituals and Religion with a capital R.

Read my Writing For Joy
Wrinkly Writers
As Gran Hobson questions relating to wartime and post-war Britain — children, simple games, simple good food, simple pleasures and happiness.
For my books see my books author blog
Magpies Nest Publishing (shortly to be updated)
Mythica Publishing

Then and Now, 1953—2010

Why do many women (and men) try to hold back the years? Why can’t we simply accept others and ourselves just as we are? Fear of being unloved and unwanted? Fear of losing respect and self-esteem. Fear that life’s journey is about to reach its destination? For certain, powder and paint, needle and thread can’t prevent that!
There are times when I ask myself ‘why bother any more?’ Why not give up and give in? Funerals, of friends and loved ones, get more frequent. ‘Wear and tear’ on body and soul doesn’t just start to show, it cries out to be heard!
We continually hear of the problems the young will face in the future to keep the ageing generation in care homes or looked after in their own homes. The figures are frightening. Add to this the dreadfully-real poverty in the world, the suffering from natural disasters, the suffering of those caught up in wars not of their making. The terrorism, but also the wickedness and the greed that makes terrorists out of downtrodden peoples.
You are never too old, or too young, to help make the world a better place to live. Wrinkles need not be a barrier to communication or to happiness.
(Photo on our wedding day — March 1953. Photo at our grandson's wedding 2010 — eyes dreadfully sore with all the flash photography, teeth not what they used to be, hair, what there is left blown by the wind! But my heart filled with the same joy!)