Friday: Little Delights

"If one daffodil is worth a thousand

pleasures, then one is too few."

attributed to WILLIAM WORDSWORTH

Happy Friday! It feels like Spring today. A real beauty. Skies are blue with wispy clouds, tulips and daffodils are coming into bloom. Trees are finally greening out. Borrowing a leafy idea from a lovely blogging friend, Debbie, I'm sharing a list of what delights me this week:

❧ Morning sunshine streaming through the living room filling the room with light.

❧ The soothing warmth of the sun on my face without sharp north winds mixed in.

❧ Detail cleaning the inside of my car. A perfect chore to celebrate this spring day by removing the vestiges of winter's crud.

❧ A simple iceberg lettuce salad with a Basil Buttermilk Dressing. It's the unexpected burst of basil in a salad that doesn't include the usual tomatoes with basil that makes this dressing satisfying and delicious. Have no idea where I first found the recipe - it's a scribbled note in my recipe binder. Here it is should you wish to try it:

Basil Buttermilk Salad Dressing

2/3 cup buttermilk

1/3 cup mayonnaise

1 small garlic, mashed with a sprinkle of salt

2 Tbsps. fresh chopped basil (and, yes, save the recipe for when you can use fresh)

Whisk buttermilk and mayonnaise. Add mashed garlic, sprinkle of salt, and chopped basil. Chill in refrigerator for an hour. Pour over iceberg lettuce and serve. 

❧ A small slice of Sour Cherry Lattice Pie from Duchess Bakery with a tiny scoop of vanilla ice cream from Marble Slab Creamery. Yum.

❧ Reading through the eight books in the Anne of Green Gables Series. I'm currently on book four Anne of Windy Poplars. This is usually a favourite to read in the autumn, but I wanted to read the series in chronological order. The stories are as charming as ever, but I find myself paying closer attention to the details and descriptions that set the stories in their precise era. One mention of a character traveling to Alberta means the story took place after 1905, the year Alberta became a province in the Dominion of Canada (as it was then known). I also found it interesting when the author mentioned a telephone wire wrecking Anne's view from her college bedroom window—another clue of the era (history lessons).

❧ A real letter in the mailbox amidst a pile of advertising brochures. It came all the way from Oregon from a dear blogging friend. Thanks, Sharon, it arrived safely.

❧ Coffee on the front step this morning to the welcome chorus of robins and chickadees and a few finches.

'Tete a Tete'

❧ A single small patch of dwarf Narcissus 'Tete a Tete' daffodils blooming in the garden. I have often wondered why these little blooms wear this name. According to my bit of research online, 'Tete a Tete' means 'head to head'. It's a French expression that means 'an intimate conversation'. Peer closely, and you'll see the nodding heads seem to be telling stories and whispering secrets. I feel the delight of this bit of info.

And that's what's delighting my soul this Friday. On that note,

I'm wishing you a beautiful weekend,

Brenda

Photo credits:

Brenda @ It's A Beautiful Life

One Sunday in May: A Little This and That

"She could always be counted on

to notice and share small instances of beauty."

from Homecoming by Kate Morton, p. 118

Happy Sunday! It's grey and windy here today. I'm coming to you a little tired this morning as I start this post - it's been a busy week. Alas, I've no idea what to chat about today, but I'll let my mind wonder a bit and see if anything comes of it.

The garden is still abloom in spots with the earliest spring bulbs I wrote about last time. Even with cooler temperatures, those hardy souls in the garden continue to add colour to a still brownish landscape. Leaves on trees are, at last, beginning to hint of lavish greens to come. Tulips are, in turn, forming their buds, and in a couple of weeks they should start opening. I'm sad to say that a number of perennials and shrubs in our garden did not survive the winter. I lament them. But, looking at it on the bright side, this loss opens new doors, rather new spaces, to introduce something fresh in the garden.

Happily, we're off this afternoon to a Baroque concert that features Handel's Water Music. It's one of my favourite pieces of music—I'm reminded of summer days every time I listen to it. In case you aren't familiar with this music, you might find it interesting to know the piece was composed by Georg Frederick Handel for King George I of England. Written to be performed on the water, it was first performed on July 17, 1717 at 8:00 pm on a barge going up the River Thames. It was reported that the King enjoyed the music so much, he commanded the musicians to play it a couple more times that day. There won't be any meandering up the Thames for us today, although our imagination can take us there while we listen. Wouldn't that be a splendid way to spend a warm summer evening? It must have been quite something for the folks who heard it back then. 

This past week I worked on a large-ish proofreading project. It took up most of my week as I carefully read a 236-page anthology being published by the writing fellowship, InScribe, to which I belong and sometimes guest post on their blog. The book is titled Creativity & Chaos: Artistic Endeavours for Trying Times. As it turns out, I really enjoy the art of proofreading, and although it's a lot of effort and brain work, it fits my nature to do this kind of detailing and bringing order out of things not quite yet in order. There's a certain satisfaction in reading a document to ensure all the i's are dotted and t's are crossed, making sure formats and styles are consistent, authors' names are spelled right, ensuring the usual suspects of spelling, punctuation, grammar, etc., is in hand. 

I'm delighted to report that my own submission was accepted for publication in it. It's a Reflection about my own experiences creatively-speaking during the early days of the pandemic. My piece is titled A Kaleidoscope of Creativity. The anthology is scheduled to come out in September. I'll post more about it then and how you can get your own copy, if you wish one. (We'll have to have a giveaway, too!)

I must tell you quickly about two magazines that came home with me the other day. Yes, they beckoned from the shelf. One is the May/June issue of Victoria magazine, in which the current Writer-in-Residence, Jennifer L. Scott, shared about lessons she learned as a student living in France years ago. Her writing resonated with me as it reminded me of myself at that age when I, too, began to discover how I could live life more gracefully, more beautifully. Author Alexandra Stoddard had been my mentor then. In Jennifer's case, it was her French host mother who became her mentor. She described how, while learning to make a simple strawberry tart for a weeknight family dinner, she came to learn the value of details and aesthetics, "realizing that any task I undertook could be looked at as art." (p. 14). It was a transformational moment for her, and I delighted reading her account of it. I won't share more here since the magazine is out in stores now. I was also pleased to learn she writes books, and two caught my eye: one is the memoir in which she chronicled her adventures from that time in France: Lessons from Madam Chic: 20 Stylish Secrets I Learned While Living in Paris. And the other is At Home with Madame Chic: Becoming a Connoisseur of Daily Life. Both are now on my wish list.

The other magazine that I've been enjoying is called In Her Studio by Stampington & Company. It's a magazine filled with 'spaces and stories of creative women'. Lots of inspiring tales of how women create space in their lives for creative work, with pages of great photos of those spaces in which they work and play. What fun to see women creating 'rooms of their own'. The front cover beguiles me with pots and jugs of dried florals. You just know something wonderful is about to happen in that space.

❥ ❦ ❥

It's now evening and, for not having had anything to say earlier, surprisingly I found a few paragraphs to jot down. By the way, the concert was sublime - it was quite enchanting to hear Handel's Water Music in real time played by musicians you can see in real life. Tomorrow beckons with plans for a luncheon gathering with family to fete a beloved niece and nephew who have traveled from afar to spend time with family here in the west.

Did I mention that I've been reading Anne of Green Gables? It's spring, and I wanted to immerse myself in those delightful descriptions where young Anne is surrounded by the bowers of springtime's apple and cherry blossoms.

The evening sun is streaming in through my study window... clouds have parted long enough to see the sun at day's end. And the robins are singing...oh my! On that note...

❦

I'm wishing you a beautiful week ahead,

Brenda

Photo credit:

Brenda @ It's A Beautiful Life

Out Pops Spring in the Garden

"It is spring again. The earth is like a

child that knows poems by heart."

RAINER MARIA RILKE

Spring feels slow this year. It's not that long ago since snow fell... again. And some night temperatures still drop below freezing. Yet the earliest spring bulbs push through the warming brown earth and offer us a palette of Crocus, Squill, Grape hyacinth, and other lovelies. It's a godsend for colour starved eyes. The tulips will be next—green leafy clumps are already forming and every day they grow taller.

Here's a peek at what's making news in our corner of the world this week.

"The smallest of things can make you feel like

something is special about today."

SUSAN BRANCH, from her blog

"That is one good thing about this world...there

are always sure to be more springs."

L.M. MONTGOMERY, Anne of Avonlea

"Spring work is going on

with joyful enthusiasm."

JOHN MUIR, The Wilderness World of John Muir

“Can words describe the fragrance

of the very breath of spring?"

NELTJE BLANCHAN

 

"If people did not love one another, I really don't

see what use there would be in having any spring."

VICTOR HUGO, Les Misérables

"Spring drew on...and a greenness grew over those

brown beds, which, freshening daily, suggested

the thought that Hope traversed them at night,

and left each morning brighter traces of her steps."

CHARLOTTE BRONTË, Jane Eyre

"He smelled cold water and cold intrepid green.

Those early flowers smelled like cold water. Their fragrance

was not the still perfume of high summer;

it was the smell of cold, raw green."
PAUL HARDING

"It was such a spring day as breathes into a (wo)man

an ineffable yearning, a painful sweetness,

a longing that makes (her) stand motionless,

looking at the leaves or grass, and fling out (her)

arms to embrace (s)he knows not what."

JOHN GALSWORTHY, The Forsyte Sage

❦

Wishing you a beautiful weekend,

Brenda

Photo credits:

Brenda @ It's A Beautiful Life

Progress Report From the "The Reading List"

"She didn't remember the story, she was terrible with details,

but she remembered the way it made her feel."

SARA NISHA ADAMS, The Reading List

As you may recall from an earlier post (HERE), I mentioned that I'd been reading the novel The Reading List by Sara Nisha Adams. A heartwarming story of a troubled young woman, Aleisha, who works in a library and an older, lonely widower, Mukesh, who visits the library looking for something to help him through his grief. Somewhere in there, a reading list with eight titles mysteriously shows up in different places. Aleisha sees it one day and decides to try the first title - to see how it goes - and thus the tale really begins. Soon she's suggesting to Mukesh that he should try reading the first one; she enjoyed it, maybe he would too.

Ever eager for a new reading list with new titles someone has recommended, I gathered the books and started with the first one on the list. If you need a reminder, below are the titles linked to the GoodReads book blurbs, if you want to know a little more about each one:

To Kill A Mocking Bird

by Harper Lee, 1960

(Read this one for the first time and loved it)

Rebecca

by Daphne du Maurier, 1938

(Longtime favourite - loved reading it again)

The Kite Runner

by Khaled Hosseini, 2003

(Haunting, heartbreaking, good story)

The Life of Pi

by Yann Martel, 2001

 (Have never read this one)

Pride and Prejudice

by Jane Austen, 1813

(Longtime favourite - haven't read it in a while)

Little Women

by Louise May Alcott, 2 vols. 1868, 1869

 (Longtime favourite - haven't reread for this list) 

Beloved

by Toni Morrison, 1987

(Have never read this one)

A Suitable Boy

by Vikram Seth, 1993

(Have never read this one. It's 1474 pages - even

longer than War and Peace at 1352 pages;

definitely not an undertaking for the faint of heart. 

I've seen this one on various suggested reading lists.)

❦

I have now finished the third book, The Kite Runner. This is one of those books where I won't remember all the details, but I will not forget how it haunts me, even days after I finished it. In my view, this is not a book for the fragile of soul. It's too heart-rending in many places. However, if you feel courageous, and you feel able to bear the pain of others - even for those in a story - then carry on. I found it an enlarging story. It made my heart squeeze in compassion for the plight and pain of others, many in situations I'll never encounter in real life but now have a glimpse of what some do face in this world. The book is one I probably won't read again, but I'm glad I did once.

With this story fresh in my thoughts, I read CaitlynneGrace's new post on her blog that felt so timely. She mentions a quote from St. Teresa of Avila, "He who truly loves his neighbor and cannot efficaciously assist him, should strive at least to relieve and help him by his prayers." I was pricked by these words. Although I do often whisper a little prayer for people as I'm going about my days—maybe it's someone being driven off in an ambulance or the teen looking so despondent at the crosswalk or the young mom looking harried as she runs errands with toddlers in tow. I want to be even more aware of others around me and not be so absorbed in my own things. Of course, there are many times we cannot help someone in a tangible way, but as Teresa of Avila noted, at least we could say a pray for them as we each go our own way. Who knows, it might be enough grace in that little space of time, when empathy beats in our heart, that helps a person live through another day, maybe a little more hopefully. CaitlynneGrace says it more eloquently, so I hope you'll pop over and read her post yourself, link HERE.

I'll wait a few days before I pick up the next book in the list. In the meanwhile, I'll find something softer and easier on the heart. I look up from my screen and glance out the window, my goodness, the sun is shining and the skies are spring blue. Earlier I heard my first robin of the season - I'm ecstatic. So, on that note, I'll be off to feast on this new day. I'm wishing you a beautiful day...

❦

Heart hugs,

Brenda

Photo credit:

Top Image by Catkin from Pixabay

Memories: My Wedding Dress

"This is more than just a wedding dress.

It is the embodiment of a dream come true."

KEOULA WHEELER

No great clouds of tulle, no long train, crinoline, or trailing veil. Marrying at age 41, I no longer desired the kind of dress I dreamed about as a girl. I wanted something simple with just a hint of twirl and flounce. Trying on several gowns, I knew when I saw it in the mirror. This was the one, it felt just right. A dress in off-white cream, an ankle-length full skirt, the bodice and sleeves in lace—a silhouette of soft romance.

Somewhere I read that classic wedding dresses are designed to stand the test of time, meaning you'll never cringe when looking back at your wedding portraits. I'm glad to say that I still love the simplicity of my wedding dress, and I smile when I see it...us...in the photos.

Months before there was a thought of a wedding, I saw a photo in the February 1998 issue of Victoria magazine (see below). If I was ever going to be a bride, this was the bouquet I wanted to carry. At that time, there was not even a hint in the air of a wedding—I wasn't even going out with the fellow. But nevertheless at the mature age of 41, a girl will have her dreams, and I dreamed of carrying this bouquet down the aisle to my waiting heart mate, whoever he might be (we had our fingers crossed).

"Love is the flower

you've got to let grow."

UNKNOWN

"Once in a while, in the middle of an ordinary life,

love gives us a fairy tale."

MELSSA BROWN

Since that day more than 25 years ago, the dress has been hanging in the closet. And every so often when I'll be looking for something else, I'll see it and take it out. A rush of emotion-filled memories flood in.

There has been the long tradition of keeping one's wedding dress with the idea of handing it down to someone in the next generation. Hopefully a daughter or even a granddaughter. For me, there is no one to pass it down to—my nieces have their own moms' things, if anything is to be passed down. So I wonder why I keep it tucked up in the cupboard when perhaps someone else out there could wear it on her special day and enjoy its loveliness.

That day when I was in the clearing out mood, I slipped the shoulder ribbons from the fabric hanger with the intention to fold the dress into a nice box and take it to a second hand shop. I couldn't. I could fold away some of my old formal dresses I once wore as I knew I'd never wear them again. But this gown? I'll never wear it again either. Neither Rick or I are the truly 'romantic' types where we'd renew our vows or dress up in our wedding clothes for a milestone anniversary photo. I think he might gently roll his eyes if I suggested it. But then again he might not.

There is one little memory of my dress on our wedding day that still sparkles like diamonds in a ring. It was the end of the day. The party was over, the guests were gone. Rick and I were getting into the car to drive to our hotel. He opened the door for me, and as I got in, he took my swirly skirt and gently tucked it around my feet, making sure the hem was safely in. The glint of his new wedding band against the creamy skirt made my heart skip a beat. I was the bride, he was my bridegroom. And I was about to go away into my new life with this man I loved. It's a moment I have never forgotten.

Back in the closet I hung my wedding dress. It doesn't take up much room. Maybe I'll be ready to pass it along another time. But not today.

❦

Wishing you a beautiful Spring weekend,

Brenda