R's rue

Every leaf that falls in autumn is a little different from its neighbour. They each have their own story to tell - like the lines revealed on an open palm. Over the last week, the tree friendly southern suburbs of Sheffield have been carpeted with leaves and sometimes you walk ankle deep along the pavements, listening to the leaves' crinkly soundtrack. The air has been still but yet there are nooks and crannies, corners and gateways where the autumn dead have drifted. Yesterday, I raked and swept up a great pile of leaves in our garden then I decanted them into an old dustbin where they can gradually rot down for a year or so ready to enrich the soil. A virtuous circle perhaps. "Leaves" is a word used more than its synonym - "departs" and on Thursday our decorators left after a two week stint of meticulous work - preparing, sanding, undercoating, coating and recoating. They have done a great job of our hallway, staircase and landing. Although five different youn...

 When anxiety  Rises up  In me May a quiet Faith roar In response That says I’m here To guide And lead You into A hope That can’t Be dispelled  from R's rue https://ift.tt/VvlSM7C

T his is the second in a series of blogposts that explain the origins of the unusual names of several stations on the London Underground railway system. The first in the series was published a mere fourteen years ago when the author of this blog considered Shepherd's Bush . Today, we are thinking about Canary Wharf. Who knows - it might be another fourteen years till we reach the third selected station. I bet you can't wait. Just to warn you - the author will then be eighty seven years old and may be even more doolally. B efore people got used to money, there was something called bartering. You didn’t need money. You could just exchange things with your neighbour. You might have admired your neighbour’s bantam chicken so you’d say “I’d like to have that little chicken” and your neighbour might say, “Okay you can have that bantam for a sack of turnips.” Then you might say “No way Jose! Half a sack of turnips and it’s a deal but not a full sack. Turnips are hard to grow.” And the...

 An early morning greeted me as I stepped out on the porch today, and it couldn’t be more timely. The cool rain is reminding me it’s okay to rest. My body needs it. My mind needs it. My soul needs to crave it. It’s okay not to have perfect or pretty words to describe everything. Sometimes the truth just likes to sneak up and smack you in the face. Grief and gratitude can intertwine, and I can welcome both as long as I don’t stay there too long. The human experience doesn’t guarantee ease. I’m also have to disconnect from the need to be connected online constantly. The addiction is real sometimes. I’m having to reconcile my need for perfection daily.  My best friend told me to care but not carry. Such a simple statement. So much truth, yet so hard to do. I can do hard things. So today, I awake to nature providing new perspective and some peace. I truly wish the same for you.  Joy Is simply  Putting down What is Now to Heavy to bear from R's rue https://ift.tt/5u27BH...

Applause is due to the ordinary working people of America who turned up in their millions yesterday to change the political tide. They passed judgement on Trump and his gang and the divisiveness they have wrought - including starting an unnecessary war that threatens peace and economic stability around the world. Of course, the increasingly senile president accepts no responsibility for this electoral battering. He has even claimed that if his name had been on the ballot papers instead of the nominees he endorsed, the defeat would not have happened. But deception and dodging responsibility is part of his DNA. The other night I tuned in to a video that examined his academic career at Fordham University in New York (1964-1966) and The Wharton Business School at The University of Pennsylvania (1966-1968). Although Trump has often boasted of his academic prowess and high achievement, it seems more than likely that he made it all up or at least exaggerated everything. He left virtually no ...

 Lord Thank you For showing me You can still Move a mountain I couldn’t see past Thank you  For restoring hope To a tired soul That was wondering If faith was even Still visible To the  Naked eye God  You’ve always Held in It Your Hands I just started To doubt Whether Your silence Was rejection Or repudiation from R's rue https://ift.tt/ugczPUp