Autumn Cottage Diarist

More Ephemera from the Antiques Arcade...Paper Armchair-Travelling

I didn't just buy the dolls :-). I also acquired this old - (not very old, mostly just 1950's) album for £4.00 - but I think it was worth every penny, as it is full of nice postcards, some of which are a good deal older than 50 years. (The Hessian wedding above, for instance, is post-marked 1912).

What a charming smile from this Swiss maiden!

It seems to be an album which once belonged to a British couple who (quite adventurously) visited Norway, Sweden, Denmark, Holland, Switzerland and, interestingly, Bulgaria, in the 1950's. Some of the Bulgarian postcards feature the bleak, oppressive architecture of post war eastern bloc countries, but the ones I found most interesting are those showing a variety of folk costume, of which I have made a small collection over the years.

Costume from Axel - in Germany - or Scandinavia?

My friend in Norway, Britt-Arnhild, and her family still keep the tradition of wearing their "Bunad" local costume on high days and holidays...do any of my other readers have and wear their own traditional garments? I do hope some of you do...

From the selection of postcards in the album, here are some more old images of European costumes and ways of life that may well now have disappeared, for you to enjoy....

Two postcards from Volendam in the Netherlands, where traditional costume was still worn on a daily basis until the last decade.

One for Britt-Arnhild - waiting to cross at Gudvangen on the Sogne Fijord - 1950's?

A traditional "tourist card" of Alpine flora -  Edelweiss, gentians and ?

(28.10.08...thanks to Brigitte and Dagmar, I now know that the red flowers are Almrauch, the Alpine rose, Rhododendron hirsutum. Thank you so much, ladies!)

Into the Dark

The clocks went back overnight, as Greenwich Mean Time was restored for the winter months, and the evenings grow dark an hour earlier than they did yesterday.

My current paper journal is also nearly filled up, and I am ready to begin writing in one of the three case-bound, fabric covered notebooks I bought from the college shop for a bargain price (It's great to be a student!). The covers are a smart black and grey, so I think its appropriate, for all these reasons, to entitle the new journal "Into the Dark".

Into the dark of the winter months, into the dark, plants, while you  rest until spring comes. Into the dark corners of barns and stables, little birds & spiders, into the dark corners of the summerhouse, lacewings. Into the dark of my loft, hibernating bats, hanging, head downwards in the dry and the warmth.

And for us humans lucky enough to also be inside, in the warm and the dry - we can always light a candle. Journals and candles, both to lighten our own dark corners - what more could we want? (No power cuts and an Internet connection, she replies!)

I've got photographs of some rather special dolls to show you today - picked up in the Junk Shop in Hungerford Arcade last week for a pound or two each. Hand made, craftsman fashioned "Highland Character dolls", with individual facial portraits and handmade clothes, created in the 1970's in the Highlands of Scotland by doll artist Sheena Macleod. They remind me very much of the Cornish "Shallowpool" dolls. I think the Macleod dolls are now collectors items, but for me they are just reminders of the history of a beautiful part of the United Kingdom which I have not visited for far too long. I hope you enjoy them as well.

Office Junior

In the office all day again today - which is not as easy as yesterday, when it poured with rain, and howled with wind. Today the sun is glorious again...but stuff at the keyboard needs to be done.

It's not all bad, though, when I have a little companion to keep me company. The office window is wide open, so Pip is happily coming and going through that. He has just attempted to catch a pheasant in the garden - which given the size of Pip and the size of the cock pheasant, was something of a non-runner for him - unlike the pheasant, who did ALL the running - finally fluttering off in a desultory fashion when he got sick of the little Pip-squeak!

I'm off down under the desk now - the Little Innocent in the photograph has just pulled out several cables from the back of my scanner which I can only reinstate with much crawling and fiddling....threats to chop off his tail and make pussycat stew for supper were met by his quick exit out through the window once again!

I feel a constitutional walk along "The Drove" coming on...this sunshine is all too enticing for me.

Carpet of Gold

Once again, a week has flown by with no post from me - and no replies to all the comments which you so generously leave. I am sorry - life has been very full recently. I'm back in college with a dual module schedule this semester, which means LOTS of reading and research, plus new counselling clients, and several very pleasant but nevertheless time-consuming social engagements (I'm emphatically NOT complaining!) - seeing old friends and entertaining new ones. I hope you will all forgive me for my lack of communication.

An exceptionally mild autumn here so far, and with little wind, which has meant that the falling leaves have made carpets in various shades of gold beneath the trees, from where I have gathered them up and "bagged" them.

The bags will have holes punched in their bottoms, and then be piled up behind the summerhouse. In a years time, I will open them up and hopefully find soft, crumbly leafmold, which I'll then add to home made compost to make a potting and seed medium for next spring.

I also started to clean out the potting shed today - as the weather closes in, less will be done outside, but there is plenty to be done under cover. I'm hoping to start to sell "Autumn Cottage Plants" at the garden gate next year, especially when I run my writing workshops, as attendees often comment on how much they like the garden - it would be nice for them to take a little bit of it away with them - and add to my coffers so that I can ncrease the plantings and the peaceful welcome even more!

Here are some images of how autumn is gently falling at Autumn Cottage.

Helpers want to have fun!

No more evening glasses of wine here for this year...(they have moved indoors!)

Glorious colours of the sumach tree

One Good Man Deserves Honour... A Nobel Peace Prize Nominee

Deep in Holocaust studies at the moment, as I have just begun "Death in World Religions" - one of my two final taught modules for my Master's degree. I'm watching the whole of Claude Lanzmann's "Shoah" over the next few days, but can only bear it for an hour at a time, so for a break, I usually go to the BBC Radio 4 home page, and flick through the news - where announcements for the latest Nobel Prizes are being made each day at the moment.

Then I realised that the Nobel Peace Prize for 2008 has not yet been announced, so that there is still time to cross my fingers for a worthy nominee, a man with whose name I have been familiar for many years.

Sir Nicholas Winton is now an indefatigable 98 years old, but in 1939 was a 29 year old stockbroker, working in Czechoslovakia. In the months before war broke out, Sir Nicholas (who I have usually heard referred to as "Nicky") organised the escape for nearly 700 mostly Jewish children, who were brought by train to the UK, after he had arranged for them to be fostered here.

He is a remarkable but modest man, whose heroic efforts were unspoken for nearly 50 years (until his wife found a scrapbook of what he had done in the attic...moral - keep a journal!). The Peace Prize Laureate is announced on Friday morning - and I for one will be keeping my fingers crossed that this good and righteous man - still fundraising enthusiastically, could receive the acknowledgement which he richly deserves.

If you would like to know more of his story, here's a very interesting (and amusing) half hour video presentation about him, made this year by the Rotary Club of Great Britain, while here is more of the story of those whose lives he saved .

Listen out on Friday morning to see if he has been honoured by the Nobel Committee. Even if not, there are many thousands of people who hold him in the greatest esteem. Someone who can look back on his life and know that he has made a difference - and how many of us can say that?

1939 -  29 year old Nicholas with one of the fortunate few children.

Tell me what you have FOUND today

Encountered when I entered "artifacts" and "remembrance" into Google,
while researching for my MA dissertation today - if you live in the USA I
guess you will have seen this magazine, but it is the first time that I have
come across it, and the premise upon which it is found-ed fascinates me.

It's a magazine pretty well described by its title - FOUND - encompassing
all types of found ephemera - the discarded snippets of life. Looks like an
excellent site to browse if you are interested in Art journaling/altered books
of any description - full of inspiration.

Now where can I find a copy over here?

The Good Life - (for cats!) - In Hampshire

The weather has turned - a very cold night, and Lissie has decided that "Indoors mode" is henceforth in operation until further notice. But the chill has developed the colours in the leaves outside - glorious autumn tints are abundant at the moment.

I can hardly believe that the herb and vegetable beds are just a year old - the butterfly bed has been a aprticular pleasure over the last few months - here are the rich pink sedums, with heads of fennel seeds and the buddleia - now pruned back - which have all attracted a multitude of fascinating insects to themselves.

Down by the pond, the leaves are starting to fall from the whitebeam and the great oak - just as well that I netted both ponds this morning, to avoid barrows full of leaves falling in and poisoning the water. This pond will need cleaning out in the spring, with lots of water lilies to split - but that is not a job for now!

The pelargoniums and citrus trees are starting to feel the chill, so here they are, coming in to the conservatory  for the winter. Now where will I put all thse pots??

Sentry-cat Pip has kept his eye on me, to make sure that I have been doing the cleaning up properly....and here is the reason why Autumn Cottage is such an appropriate name for my home at this time of the year...one of the acers (palmatum dissectum) in full golden speldour.

 

Ten Years Have Flown on the Wings of Time

My Mother, Lilian Mary Louvaine Latham  1915-1998

(A tribute song below - takes time to download, but is worth it. Wait until the play bar appears if you would like to listen. Music - "This Love" by Bliss)

Few words from me today, as I am revisited by grief from more than one
direction. It hardly seems possible that it was ten years ago this very
morning that I had the privilege to sit in the sacred space of death with my
beloved mother as she left this life.

Instead, I turn to remembrance and memorial, in photographs of my own
and the words of others to express what lies on the surface of my heart.

 
Mam, two years old in 1917

The Dead

The dead are always looking down on us, they say.
while we are putting on our shoes or making a sandwich,
they are looking down through the glass bottom boats of heaven
as they row themselves slowly through eternity.

They watch the tops of our heads moving below on earth,
and when we lie down in a field or on a couch,
drugged perhaps by the hum of a long afternoon,
they think we are looking back at them,
which makes them lift their oars and fall silent
and wait, like parents, for us to close our eyes.

Billy Collins

Twenty one years old

Resurrection

Is it true that after this life of ours
we shall one day be awakened by a
terrifying clamour of trumpets?

Forgive me, God,
but I console myself that the beginning
and resurrection of all of us dead
will simply be announced
by the crowing of a cock

After that we will remain
lying down a while
The first to get up
will be mother

We'll hear her, quietly
laying the fire, quietly putting
the kettle on the stove and
cosily taking the teapot out of the cupboard.

We'll be home once more.

Vladimir Holan

At last - an unexpected and joyful Nana to baby Hugh

On the Death of the Beloved   

Though we need to weep your loss,
You dwell in that safe place in our hearts,
Where no storm or might or pain can reach you.

Your love was like the dawn
Brightening over our lives
Awakening beneath the dark
A further adventure of colour.

The sound of your voice
Found for us
A new music
That brightened everything.

Whatever you enfolded in your gaze
Quickened in the joy of its being;
You placed smiles like flowers
On the altar of the heart.
Your mind always sparkled
With wonder at things.

Though your days here were brief,
Your spirit was live, awake, complete.

We look towards each other no longer
From the old distance of our names;
Now you dwell inside the rhythm of breath,
As close to us as we are to ourselves.

Though we cannot see you with outward eyes,
We know our soul's gaze is upon your face,
Smiling back at us from within everything
To which we bring our best refinement.

Let us not look for you only in memory,
Where we would grow lonely without you.
You would want us to find you in presence,
Beside us when beauty brightens,
When kindness glows
And music echoes eternal tones.

When orchids brighten the earth,
Darkest winter has turned to spring;
May this dark grief flower with hope
In every heart that loves you.

May you continue to inspire us:

To enter each day with a generous heart.
To serve the call of courage and love
Until we see your beautiful face again
In that land where there is no more separation,
Where all tears will be wiped from our mind,
And where we will never lose you again.

John O'Donohue

Still filled with love and pride - a last photograph of Lilian Latham, my beloved Mother, with Hugh

 

The picture that says a thousand words - the abiding memory with which I am left  - in my mother's eyes, the love that lasts forever.