That is, I don’t think calves are noted for it. It occurs to me that I haven’t reported back on Pinkie and Scarlet recently (if you haven’t visited for a while – or ever – they are two cows who lived with us during their pregnancies, who have now gone back to the farm). Pinkie has had her calf, a boy, and has happily rejoined the milking herd. She is not particularly maternal and didn’t mind being parted from her calf, though it’s likely he wasn’t thrilled. Poor animal doesn’t know better and he’s with his cousins, anyway. Scarlet is still relaxing and isn’t due for a couple of weeks or so yet. We’re rather hoping for a girl. The Sage goes to visit regularly and both cows lumber over to greet him and receive carrots and apples.
The stormy weather is over – it was a very English storm, being quite polite in its bluster. Today, there was a chill in the air but the sun was warm when I came home at half past twelve and there’s a pale blue sky with a few fluffy clouds. The bantams were relaxing, basking in the sunshine at the top of the drive. Yesterday, they stayed safely in their run with unruffled feathers.
The Sage is pondering whether to buy a book on Suffolk artists. I’ve pointed out that all his children are worrying what on earth to buy him for a present in a few weeks – for goodness sake, let me tell them about it. Or one of them, anyway.
There’s an extra service at the church this afternoon. For a (presumably sound) reason that hasn’t been explained to me, we missed All Souls’ day a couple of weeks ago, so the service will be today. Very little publicity has been given so I expect there won’t be many people there. I’ll set it up, play the clarinet and make tea afterwards. I’m not big on lighting candles in memory of people, so may not participate in that part. I don’t object, it just doesn’t mean anything to me. Nor do flowers on a grave, actually. I’m too prosaic to respond to symbolism and can do nothing to change that.
…I’m too prosaic to respond to symbolism and can do nothing to change that.
this strikes a mighty chord with me, sugar! so much so that i’ve already told my children when the day comes, cremate me and spread the ashes in the ocean! no gravesite visit, headstone or flowers! just a farewell party and i hope, remembering of good times! xoxox
You know what? You’re right about the stormy weather. It was terribly polite and just missed being exciting, even if I had to get up in the night and close windows because of rain and wind.
Even the English Channel, whipped up and restless, was more reserved than it should have been, given the force of the gale. I wanted huge waves crashing onto the beach. Nada.
The lighting candles bit doesn’t do anything for me either, but I have to remember that it does for some people, and have arranged these sorts of services (usually on All Souls or All Saints) which seem to be well received.
Oooh books for Christmas. It’s what I always ask for…nothing else. (Except the continuation of my sub for French mag Cote Sud.)
There is nothing nicer than receiving a pile of books of all shapes and sizes, and looking forward the rest of the Winter in font of the fire reading them…aaaah
I’m an earthy sort and want to be buried, but with as little fuss as possible. Actually, I’d be quite happy to be composted.
I used to live by the North Sea and I loved winter storms Wendy. Best of all was lightning out at sea. And we lived in an Edwardian house with huge sash windows and used to lie in bed watching the curtains billow. That was with the windows shut.
It went well Dave, and people stayed drinking tea afterwards for ages, which has to be a good sign.
Even as a child, I only wanted books as presents. If it wasn’t a book, a book token or sweets (I wasn’t allowed them normally so sweets were a vast treat) I didn’t quite see the point.
savannah – you obviously think as I do. i’ve told my children to throw my ashes in the Meuse – or on the garden – haven’t decided yet!
On the other hand the cemetaries in France look nost attractive when they are filled with flowers for November 2nd.
z I’m really impressed with the alphabet.
I rarely got books as a child. King of the Wind and Chronicles are Narnia are the remembered ones. Now I love to give and receive books.
No real request other than cremation. ashes Maybe scattering at a rose garden near the sea. It doesn’t matter since I won’t be there.
What is a meuse?
Is it because I have an Earth sign that this is where I want to end up? I like the thought of being devoured by little creatures and becoming part of the earth. I suppose having ashes scattered on the ground is second best, but it’s very much second. I want to be buried in a wicker coffin (actually, just chucked in a hole but no one’s going to allow that)
The Meuse is a river in France.
Alphabet. I’m not sure I’ll be allowed to leave alphabets. I’ll have to mug up on runes. Actually, I’ve read a book about the development of letters, I’ll have to look it out. So easy when nearly every post title started Z…
I love how you say that it was a “very English storm, being quite polite in its bluster”
sounds like the opposite of the storms where I’m from, where it is known to rain from the ground upwards on occasion!
We do tend to exaggerate – what in most countries would be quite windy is what we call a gale.