Thoughts

 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/5u27BHT

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Donovan

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Do you remember Donovan? He is seventy eight years old now and lives in County Cork, Ireland - not far from Dave Northsider - our esteemed blogging colleague. Donovan's full name is Donovan Phillips Leitch and he was born in Glasgow, Scotland though both of his grandmothers were Irish. I must confess that when Donovan broke into the British folk-pop scene in the mid-sixties I was drawn to his music. It was pure, simple and unprocessed, driven principally by the lyrics. His output owed things variously to the hippy movement, to Bob Dylan and to anti-war artists. I saw him in concert three or four times and many years later saw him here in Sheffield. However, it didn't seem as those he had advanced. I even learnt to play several of his songs on my guitar, including the following one which many would argue is his best and best-known song - typical of him in his heyday. Please listen... In the East Yorkshire village where I grew up, my best friend during my teens was a lad ca...
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Checking The Boundary

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 I’m not sure what I’m all about today. It’s a nothing day as I’m back on nights. This time doing my own and not a colleague’s who had been delayed in the beautiful looking Sicily.  I’m mourning my cancelled trip to Italy and will organise one as soon as I can afford it . I’m sat at the kitchen table and the almond milk in my bucket of coffee has curdled.  The oven is purring and I’m going to be making soup soon Butternut squash, bean and chilli  I can hear pawsteps from the bathroom Soon Roger will jog purposefully through the kitchen and into the garden. He will do a figure of eight around the paths, give a half woof at the gate, then will watch the blackbirds or a sparrow for a while, or the bantam cockerel who still lives in the gardens west of the Church before bouncing back to the kitchen. He will stop for a head rub before sitting in the sunny spot on the living room carpet with the others.  An hour or so later he will be off on his rounds if ...
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