The Present Of The Past

That green, green caravan.

Chipped paint and the smell 

of burning sausages.

A carpet of wild grasses and flowers 

spread before me, more majestic than

any red velvet line.

How I love this place.

The placid horses in the adjoining 

field watching in bemusement

as I place my spindly eight year old foot

onto Titania's carpet

and throw myself in the air.

The fauvist ballerina, all arched 

hands and pirouetting limbs,

flying into the sky

and then rolling into the earth,

grasping fistfuls of grass as if

readying myself to consume the

world.

A haze of Beethoven's 

Pastoral Symphony in my

ears, my eyes, my mouth. I can taste

its mellow honey.

My mother claps her hands

 in smiles, beautiful tanned gypsy

woman icon in cheesecloth red.

Perhaps one day, if I laugh enough, 

I will be that woman.

Now is all preparation.

I am singing as I dance,

I am embracing the air as a trainee lover

and it plays waywardly with my 

dark curls, blowing them up high

above my head so that I grow a tall crown of hair.

Queen of the flowers.

I feel beautiful. The boys join in,

moving their bodies like mad 

little warriors fighting against 

an unseen force.

This is my freedom. Great blasts

of joy lift me out of

my insignificance and carry me on the wind,

heady summer carriage of hope.

The bonfire my father builds burns holes into the dusk.

Happiness poem written by me (and published in a national anthology) in 1999.

The Outfit

Vintage 1970s Maxi Dress: bought and worn by my Mum when pregnant with my younger brother

The Soundtrack

Van Morrison: Astral Weeks

Photos taken by me last month using my little digital camera at 26 weeks pregnant 

Journey To Wistman's Wood

 

 

 

Every day is a fresh beginning.

Listen my soul to the glad refrain.

And, spite of old sorrows,

And older sinning,

Troubles forecasted

And possible pain,

Take heart with the day and begin again.

 

New Every Morning by Susan Coolidge

The Outfit:

Red skinny jeans: from charity shop

Black shirt: from charity shop

Wool granddad waistcoat: old from H&M

Messenger bag: a gift

Walking boots: from Mr Eve

Not a very outfit heavy post, but I thought you'd like to see the beauty of Wistman's Wood in Dartmoor.

Wishing you all a very Happy New Year!

Welcome To The Geopod

The soul selects her own society,
Then shuts the door;
On her divine majority
Obtrude no more.

Unmoved, she notes the chariot's pausing
At her low gate;
Unmoved, an emperor is kneeling
Upon her mat.

I've known her from an ample nation
Choose one;
Then close the valves of her attention
Like stone.

 

 

by Emily Dickinson, via 1

 

 

 

The Outfit:

Vintage Silver Donna Karan Dress: bought in a charity shop years ago

Black Wool & Faux Fur Cardigan: very old from the High Street

Nude Pumps: old from New Look

Vintage Faux Leopard Coat: found in Afflecks Palace, Manchester in the 1990s

 

 

 

The Soundtrack 

David Bowie: Space Oddity

 

 

All photographs taken by Mr Eve or myself during a weekend holiday on Bodmin Moor, Cornwall.  Details of The Geopod, available for holiday let, can be found at the glamping website Canopy & Stars.

 

 

 

 I am delighted to be a part of the next Visible Monday, hosted by Patti from Not Dead Yet Style, click on the website link to see her outfit and those of many others.

Deer Serenade

 

as crows fly
in the dawn light
on the cold hill
the deer are running

the thud of their hooves
on the bed of the stream
is the drum that rocks
the roots of the birch
and the wind that shakes
the birch tree’s leaves

rain is their tribe song
rain is their robe

snow is the dust
of the bones of deer
falling to earth

and earth is the dark
deep silence of things
where you dream yourself
human, alive
watching the red deer running
on the wall of a cave

    

Deer by Chris Powici, via 1

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

The Outfit:

Pink Dress: gift from my Mum from a Boden sale a few years ago

Pink Silk Patterned Skirt: made by granny Kiki in the 1950s/60s

Cowboy boots: very old from R Soles

Wooden Bracelet: Granny Penny's

 

 

The Soundtrack:

Kate Bush: The Jig Of Life

 

 

All photographs taken by me in our garden, self portraits using the self timer.

 

I'm posting this a bit early as will be very busy over the next few days.

Looking forward to catching up with your new posts over the weekend!

 

Berry Picking As It Began

Late August, given heavy rain and sun
for a full week, the blackberries would ripen.
At first, just one, a glossy purple clot
among others, red, green, hard as a knot.
You ate that first one and its flesh was sweet
like thickened wine: summer's blood was in it
leaving stains upon the tongue and lust for
picking. Then red ones inked up and that hunger
sent us out with milk-cans, pea-tins, jam-pots
where briars scratched and wet grass bleached our boots.
Round hayfields, cornfields and potato-drills
we trekked and picked until the cans were full,
until the tinkling bottom had been covered
with green ones, and on top big dark blobs burned
like a plate of eyes. Our hands were peppered
with thorn pricks, our palms sticky as Bluebeard's.
We hoarded the fresh berries in the byre.
But when the bath was filled we found a fur,
A rat-grey fungus, glutting on our cache.
The juice was stinking too. Once off the bush
the fruit fermented, the sweet flesh would turn sour.
I always felt like crying. It wasn't fair
that all the lovely canfuls smelt of rot.
Each year I hoped they'd keep, knew they would not.

 

 

Blackberry Picking, by Seamus Heaney, via 1

The Outfit:

Vintage 1970s does 1930s Ruffle Dress: from Ebay.

Blue Lace Up Soft Leather Sandals: old from the sale at Toast

 

 

The Soundtrack

Johann Pachelbel: Canon & Gigue in D Major 

 

 

All photographs taken by Mr Eve and myself as we started to pick the tayberries (a cross between raspberries and blackberries), the raspberries and the blackcurrants in our two fruit cages this August. They're now all picked, and have been turned by me over the last month into summer puddings, crumbles, cakes, ice creams and jams. For inspiration see my baking blog. Boy were those berries tasty! 

 

 

 I am delighted to be a part of the next Visible Monday, hosted by the lovely Patti from Not Dead Yet Style, click on the website link to see her outfit and those of many others.

 

 

You'll notice I've removed the patchwork background to this blog, to give it a cleaner look which hopefully shows off the photographs to greater effect. What do you think, do you like it like this?

 

 

Watering The Roses

 

 

They are fleeting.

They are fragile.

They require

little water.

They’ll surprise you.

They’ll remind you

that they aren’t

and they are you.

 

 

 

Flowers by Wendy Videlock, via 1

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

  

The Outfit:

Vintage 1970s Cheesecloth Tie Front Cropped Shirt: from Oxfam Online Shop.

Boyfriend Jeans: very old from H&M

Pink Wedge Sandals: from Brazil

Black Hat: old from the High Street

 

 

The Soundtrack

Lana Del Rey: Blue Jeans 

 

 

All photographs taken by Mr Eve and myself this summer.

 

 

 I am delighted to be a part of the next Visible Monday, hosted by the lovely Patti from Not Dead Yet Style, click on the website link to see her outfit and those of many others.

 

I've been away for work much of this week so am behind on my blog post visits.

Look forward to dropping by soon!

 

Drift Softly

A filbert hedge with wild briar overtwined,

And clumps of woodbine taking the soft wind

Upon their summer thrones; there too should be

The frequent chequer of a youngling tree,

That with a score of light green brethren shoots

From the quaint mossiness of aged roots:

Round which is heard a spring-head of clear waters

Babbling so wildly of its lovely daughters

The spreading blue-bells: it may haply mourn

That such fair clusters should be rudely torn

From their fresh beds, and scattered thoughtlessly

By infant hands, left on the path to die.

 

 

John Keats, via 1

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

The Outfit:

Vintage 1970s does 1840s Prairie Settler/ Edwardian maxi dress: from Ebay.

Cotton Parasol: from Ebay

Nude Pumps: very old from New Look

Straw Hat, just seen: from a charity shop

 

 

The Soundtrack

Espers: Flowery Noontide   

 

 

All photographs taken by me, using the self timer on my little camera, in our garden this Springtime.

 

 

I was thrilled to receive your kind comments on my special Summer Mermaid post; particularly what you had to say about the poem, as it's the first I've written in a very long time. Thank you, lovely people, you're the BEST!

 

 

 I am delighted to be a part of the next Visible Monday, hosted by the lovely Patti from Not Dead Yet Style, click on the website link to see her outfit and those of many others.