Valediction

Pat Thistlethwaite in 2012

Pat, The Weaver of Grass, lived a long and interesting life that contained many twists and turns and much joy. For a long time she was an English teacher, rising to become the Head of English in a tough comprehensive school in the city of Wolverhampton.

She was born in the early nineteen thirties in a farming village near Lincoln and finished her days in the Yorkshire Dales where she lived with her second husband, a dairy farmer called David Thistlethwaite who was ten years her junior.

She loved to travel and had lots of interests - including crafts, local history and the creation of poetry. In retirement, nothing pleased her more than to go out to lunch with friends and have a good old chinwag.

These are the main things that I remember about her but I am sure that other bloggers and blog visitors will recall many other things about Pat and the wholesome life she lived.

Currently her blog, "The Weaver of Grass" is no longer live on the internet which is a shame because I for one would have liked to look back through her treasury of posts. They could have been an enduring online monument to her inquisitiveness, her kindness, her commonsense and her affection for other people with all their differences.
 
Back in August 2017 I called in on Pat at South Dyke Farm near the village of Bellerby in North Yorkshire. Sadly her "farmer" had passed away in February of that year and she was preparing to move into a bungalow in the nearby market town of Leyburn. Unfortunately, she happened to be out for the day when I called but I peered inside her house where I could see cardboard boxes packed and ready to go. I left a can of salmon on her doorstep with a note. She always said she loved salmon.

Below - the semi-detached farmhouse and the drive up to the  farm near Bellerby. It had been mothballed when I visited.
Pat embraced blogging with a passion and to me she was a great example of how senior citizens can use the internet to stay connected with the world. You might be alone in a bungalow or an isolated farmhouse but you can still "speak" to the world at large  and  follow the blogposts of others - even making new friends. In this sense she was probably a trailblazer.

She lived a good life, a happy life, making the most of her time here. She will be remembered with genuine affection by very many bloggers. Farewell to the one and only Pat Thistlethwaite.
Pat at the age of eight


from Yorkshire Pudding https://ift.tt/9uVjQd8

Neighbor

 Lord

O my soul

Feet to fire

Under my bum

Can’t wait

For the world

To save you

It left you hanging

Letting the truth

Do the talking

Better love 

Thy neighbor 

Takes on

New meaning

We country folks

Getting it done

One mule

One horse

And a scruffy mutt



from R's rue https://ift.tt/1ils9LF

fire ants

 Some thoughts

In the five stages of grief. Don’t know how long this lasts. Those who don’t have empathy have lost me. I’m trying not to judge, it’s hard. I can’t watch news or the latest gossip. It just makes me mad. Don’t know what is says about me. In the past week, I’ve had the chance to see my unsavory ways. If I post something light, it’s not that I don’t care. I just need to dream again. I need to believe in goodness again. I’m not able to write without crying. My tears are watering the Earth right now. 

God

A blubbering mess

Who still

Dreams

Of walking

The rues

And carrying

The wares

Of Coco

Are in 

Stark contrast

To fire ants

Green grass

And southern drawls



from R's rue https://ift.tt/58mQECG