Life’s tragic tale.

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grapes

How very applicable to life!

We all start with the same kind of potential. Do we let the harsh sun of reality dry up our souls till we become like raisins, old and withered, or, do we allow ourselves, (though downtrodden by dominant feet) to take in life sustaining moisture, endure a long fermentation process, in which our very nature slowly changes (often in the dark) to become a heart warming, joy giving, substance welcome at any gathering?

The choice is ours!

Life’s exchange.

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from July 2014

Song Bird Songs

gold

Youth is not lost which was spent in earnest coinage, the days exchanged for experience, for life! A day is not wasted if drained in a deep draught till the last drop. Not lost, rather stored away, their transitory substance exchanged for solid coinage of the realm of life, time transmuted into lasting substance, those things in the heart and mind which can never be erased. Youth is not lost but transformed, a thing of wafting beauty refined to solid gold.

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LIFE’S SEASONS. (from July 2014)

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last leaves

Days pass like leafed messengers floating on the breeze, quiet, silent, unobtrusive, they fall away revealing the bough on which they grew and growing had their day. The substance within was what nourished them. The rising sap of spring made the crowning leaves of summer, and now… now its autumn and the leaves gently fall carried on the wind.

Sap retreats for it feels the touch of frost in the air, but the branch remains, a limb of sturdy oak it yet defies the blast of winter. The tree stands still and silent in the forest. When the winds come it shall move and sigh forth its sounds in the gale. It shall give shelter, though lost forever it seems is that gentle running current within that dressed it so beguilingly in green foliage.

Once there were many leaves, now but few. Life’s autumn season is one of humility, yet this season reveals, hidden strength, grown by the living sap at work within. The dainty leaves couldn’t stand the frost but this bough can weather winters blast having grown supple in summer storms. It knows, deep within, the sap still resides. Unseen, unheard, it awaits the spring when again it shall burst forth in a flurry of leafed glory and rise up to the heavens to dress the leafy boughs in splendor. The sap has not gone, the tree yet lives. Its boughs now collect beauty of a different sort; more splendid than before as, dressed in white, it patterns the heavens.

It is in winter a tree is best seen, when nothing of vanity remains, just strong, lithe limbs reaching upward in defiance of the weights of earth. It is at this time that its power and beauty are revealed, a sight to stir the senses more than its former gaudy plumage. Winter is the true revealer of the tree.

Do not fear these passing days of leaves that seem to fade before you as they skim and dance in the wind. Without those leaves you can stand fearless in the wind. It passes through your empty branches and finds naught on which to take hold as you sway and dance in its presence, till one day, the sun arises and you feel a tingling deep in your roots. You know what it is, for you felt its coming before, the sap rises.

One last voyage.

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sail boat

The vessel was old decrepit, had seen too many storms, weathered too many years, carried too much cargo. He looked at it in the mirror, the unsightly bulge at the waist, the seams around the eyes, the thinning hair. This was no longer the trim, powerful craft he’d set out with. Refurbishing had turned into “tied up in port” rust and decay had set in. Yet the ocean called…

He smelt the sea breeze of adventure and longed to follow. Not for him home comforts, he loved to follow the wind, to listen to the cry of the birds as they flew free as the breeze.

“Tie up in port and die,” the voice in his head told him. “You are defeated old man!” But something inside resisted, something strove with the voice, something akin to a sea bird (or perhaps a dove).

“It ain’t over till it’s over!” he spat defiantly into the mirror. “I shall set sail again!”

He began at once offloading old cargo, purchasing new sails in the form of several bright Hawaiian shirts, he stocked up on food (healthy stuff) then he set sail. He sailed across the path of a foreign vessel, hailed it with a hearty greeting, offered help in piloting (it seemed the woman at the helm may have lost her bearings). Coming alongside he boarded the vessel assisting in repairs.

I’ve not seen either vessel for a long while since they sailed off into the sunset together.

a feast of nostalgia.

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chinese food

It’s Chinese but Anglicized, sweet and sour, but not succulent, noodles, stir fry, dumplings, but lacking the subtle nuances of the real thing. The smiles are polite and kind but lack the friendly vitality. I am heart sick for China.

The buffet tempted me in (that and my grandson’s eagerness) but it’s painful to be so tempted, only the feel of the chopsticks and the taste of the tea are the same. I long to book a flight and just go, but I remember too well the toll that trip takes on my body.

I recall my friends, the tearful partings, the smells, the humidity, the feeling of coming home, my other home. How I am sometimes torn between two worlds wishing I could spend time in both. Life is easier here but sometimes I miss that other home…

I am Vintage!

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sports car

Taking the bus yesterday due to an elasticated knee support and bandaged wrist I actually felt a little more like “the mummy” at least on my left side. Then a cute, little, vintage sports car passed by on the other side, canvas roof back, the owners proudly beaming. I thought, “They must have paid a lot of money for that and take real good care of it.”

Then it occurred to me maybe I should think of myself more like that car, that age can mean special! I thought of my granddaughter plying me for stories for her history blog, the old lady I’d met earlier who told me fascinating facts about the conservative little town where I live – that 50 years ago there’d been 42 pubs (if you saw how small my town is you would have been likewise astounded!) I remembered China where the older folks are venerated for their wisdom etc. (I quite enjoyed that lol!)

I realised perhaps I should substitute words like old, decrepit, ancient, with antique, vintage, and valuable. Sure the car took extra care, probably required quality fuel and frequent overhauls, but it seemed to run quite smoothly (as my body usually does) and was far more interesting than the newer models. So from now on I’m going to apply the word “vintage” to myself and forget those other more depressing labels.

Off to the Sea!

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Off to the Sea!

sea

Yes, I’m off for 5 days of long walks along the beach (I love the sea intensely no matter what the weather), traditional English pub lunches, and endless chats with my big sister (it’s only once a year so my sweet brother in law just retreats behind his newspaper and pretends he’s not there. lol!)

Such times always bring out the child in us. Though by calculation I know she’s 71 I find it very hard to believe. In looks, energy and personality I’d guess her to be in her late 50’s (we had a giggle when one of the lifeboat guys tried to chat her up last time I was there!)

We’ll eat the trout my brother in law caught and veggies from his allotment along with the bottle of wine I’m bringing, and His canine shooting partner will look at us eating with those big spaniel eyes. Yes, reunion will be sweet.

I’ll trade my beloved lakes for the sea for a while, breathe in the fresh spray, listen to the soothing waves and the sea birds screams and in doing so realise why my sister seems so young.

Beautiful life.

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petals

Sunlight glistened on the petals, once her skin had been soft like that, now it was mottled with brown, wrinkled, old. Work had roughened her fingers as care had worn grooves in the once pristine brow.

She chuckled to herself remembering summer days, moonlit nights, of long ago. The years had taken their toll on her; she’d paid the annual tithes of age, now her account was all but empty, little remained of strength or beauty. Yet as age took its yearly toll something had been added, a divine sweetness, long brewed it her heart, burst forth in song as a rare and precious vintage. As flesh slowly withered youth returned, eternal within, a song of love ever new growing in potency.

The hands folded in prayer as she walked amidst the flower gardens wondering at their beauty.

“Mother Teresa!” a young voice sounded, face alight with joy. Bending to embrace the running child ancient arms embraced the future.

31 day challenge day 30

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The contents of your make up bag?

Like my backpack my make up bag is highly functional (I do have a wash bag with some extra seldom used stuff).

1)Foundation – one I bought in China so old the only thing I can read is “solar protect”. I only use foundation around my eyes so it lasts me forever. A second tube is Rimel BB cream 9 in 1 super make up. This is my special occasion foundation and works great to camouflage the bags and wrinkles around my eyes.

2) Bob magic concealer (again bought in China) for the afore mentioned bag shadows.

3) Max Factor cream blush.

4) Pinkish Mac powder eye shadow

5) Dark brown Barry M eyeshadow (for eyebrows and under eyelashes.

6) Max factor lipstick (raisin)

7) Lush Eyes Right natural mascara. (Note if anyone else has super sensitive eyes try this one, its the only mascara I’ve been able to wear in years without looking like I had pink eye for days. I was so happy to find it)

8) 3 eye make up brushes (for different jobs)

7) One foam eye brush I use for cover-stick  when needed.

8) A pair of tweezers.

Since I’m an old granny I’ll add a word of advice gathered through the years. No matter how good the brand make up ages the skin (especially foundation) so only use it where and when you need it (keep the full face look for special occasions) and help keep that beautiful skin well into old age.