Lavender Dreams

Amidst lavender clouds you come to me,

a vision of beauty,

soft, ethereal,

a road to nowhere and everywhere...

We stroll through lavender fields

held by fragile, winding chains made of seeds...

You stay for a while

filling my head with wonderful thoughts,

then as you pull away, the chains break,

 the seeds fall, and I dream of the joy you've left behind...

Note: Photos by Weheartit.com and Flicker

The Swing

  I was six years old when my father built my first swing. It was a rustic contraption, just a piece of plywood held by a rope. We did not have a garden so it was secured on a ceiling beam in the spare room facing a very large window.  Looking back I suppose it wasn't the customary and usual place for a swing, but my father was a firm believer that every child should have one.

The swing became a part of me. Rain or shine it provided comfort, a favorite place for reading and dreaming. As the years passed my father adjusted the size of the seat and the strength of the rope. I was growing up, my dreams were also changing. The swing's familiar shelter helped to ease the pain of my first broken heart, it was the place where I first heard my beloved Beatles and "fell in love" with Paul McCartney. On the swing I read my first romantic novel, enjoyed ice cream, practiced my knitting, and cried when my cat died.

Eventually we moved to a new place. The swing was left behind along with my childhood. Time went by, life happened.


Three years ago, on a beautiful summer afternoon I came home to find a brand new swing in the garden. It seems almost symbolic that the two most important men in my life, my father and my husband, have been responsible for providing what I consider to be a perfect place.


As soon as the weather starts to get warmer, and even before I begin the cleaning of the garden, I bring out my cherished swing, it's comfy cushions and lace throw, with great anticipation of the months to come.


Housework slows down almost to a halt during the summer, everyone knows where to find me. The swing becomes my primary home, the best seat to watch the squirrels frolic, the birds build their nests and feed their young.  There is no better place to read a book, enjoy a glass of wine, listen to the sound of water from the fountain, or take a nap on a hot, lazy afternoon.

I come back out again at dusk, just in time to light colored candles and savour the peace I find on my swing.

A lovely day

We had a beautiful, balmy day here in  Northern New Jersey. It felt like Spring! Just like two typical Winter birds, my daughter and I threw the windows open and enjoyed Mother Nature's unexpected gift.

Days such as these are made to be shared with loved ones. My lovely daughter's youth, optimism and energy flowed throughout the house mixing with mine, creating the aura that will bind us forever.

As evening fell the windows were closed, but the magic of the day still lingered and shined like fireflies on our hair...

Note: Photo by Flicker

My aunt, the birds, and other things...

There's one in most families. The "odd relative" the "black sheep" the "square peg." In ours it was the "eccentric" aunt. She was a beautiful, passionate woman who allowed no one tell her how to live her life. She was kind to a fault, humble, and funny. Her laughter was contagious, her comments were honest and at times crude (offending and shocking my mother's refined sensitivity). She never married, had many lovers and one daughter.  She was a woman ahead of her time.

During her most "wild" years she lived with eight dogs in a one bedroom apartment which luckily led to a back garden.  She was always full of hair and inevitably the "scent" of the dogs became her own. The dogs died and the passing of time made her even more "peculiar."  She moved farther away, slowly started to reject our company and became a recluse sharing her apartment with one dog she found on the street, a sick parrot previously owned by the local bar (hence, the obscene vocabulary) and a one-eyed cat. Her love for animals knew no boundries, especially the ones in need.  She'd spend her monthly pension mostly in food for her pets and hundreds of pigeons and birds that'd come to her balcony every day, much to the neighbors' dismay.


It was heartbreaking to drive up her street and see all the birds and pigeons standing there. Her true and faithful friends...the company she kept.


She passed away alone in her sleep and was found two days later. Afterwards, and for many, many  days, the birds returned to their usual place of gathering looking for their good, trusted friend.


As I take a walk in the park, I am moved to tears whenever I see someone feeding the birds and yet, I am also comforted to see that my beloved aunt's love for animals is carried on by a kindred spirit.


Note: Photo by The Guardian uk

Roses

You love the roses-so do I. I wish

The sky would rain down roses, as they rain

From off the shaken bush.  Why will it not?

Then all the valley would be pink and white

And soft to tread on.  They would fall as light

As feathers, smelling sweet; and it would be

Like sleeping and like waking, all at once!

Poem by George Eliot

Photo by Weheaertit.com

Light and delightful

To overcome my "funny mood" I've pulled out my cherished Mapp and Lucia collection and have let it's magic do the work. I feel so much better!


Those familiar with the show could easily understand why. The story is funny, witty, and just so enjoyable. The clothes and hats are breathtaking, and so are the views of the quaint little village, but the icing on the cake is the cast itself. There's Lucia, played by Geraldine McEwan. I mean, who could not adore Geraldine McEwan?! I perhaps love her a bit more because she so resembles my dear friend Pat :0)

Prunella Scales was smashing as Sybil in one of my all time favorites, Fawlty Towers. Here her role as Mapp is just as superb.

And then, there's Georgie. Lucia's best friend.

A timid, corky, and incredibly silly bachelor played by the great actor, Nigel Hawthorne. I believe that without Georgie, Mapp and Lucia would not have been the same. I mean, look at that face!


And so, my friends, it's confirmed.  There is no better medicine than laughter. 


Wishing you all a peaceful night...