Everyday life in a rickety old Scottish farmhouse with a very happy Polish Lowland Sheepdog. A record of those unimportant little things that are too important to be forgotten.
Tuesday, November 5, 2019
Where are we going ?
After three days of solid rain this mornings pause in the downpour is welcome. The little stream once again full to its banks. The ground around covered in deer, fox and badger tracks. The PONs are entranced by the scents of these overnight visitors.
We head off in the car and park in a neighbouring village. French villages can often feel deserted. This one is Marie Celeste like. Not a soul to be seen or sound to be heard. Certainly no cafe selling croissants.
A door with a centre stone that's come from another, larger, older entrance.
Farther along the street a rather stern door that hints at a primness inside.
At the end of the village a life sized bronze goose on a plinth. The artist has somehow fired the bronze so that the colours look almost real.
The art work is really rather fine. It makes me chuckle. Perhaps, price allowing, something similar might be an addition to the garden ornaments at The Rickety Old Farmhouse.
In the morning paper the news that Yvette Lundy has died at the age of 103. One of the last resistantes. Arrested and imprisoned in a string of concentration camps she somehow survived. When asked on her 100th birthday what view had shaped her life she said '' Always ask where we are going; with whom; what will we do ? Everyone has a duty of responsibility, no matter how young ''. Reading her obituary I can't help but feel that great courage is found in the most unexpected places and that a moral compass is more valuable than rubies.
A new garden at Kew exploring the history of plants. The horsetail is perhaps the oldest plant ,unchanged in 185m years. Magnolias appeared 50m years later along with anemones and vines. Asters appear 125m years ago.
https://www.kew.org/about-us/press-media/agius-evolution-garden and on video here : https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=VOs2sLAaM3A
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My, that first doors speaks of adventure and intrigue as much as the second does indeed seem 'prim'. Can quite understand the attractions of the goose. Very handsome. As the war generation truly does fade away, it has carried with it a sense of mystique. "A duty of responsbility" - a treasurable comodity, for sure. YAM xx
I like the prim door, although I might forgo the crucifix. I like the goose too - it would look nice in the farmhouse garden. Did you see this dog? https://people.com/pets/dog-learning-to-talk-by-using-a-custom-soundboard-to-speak-im-in-constant-amazement/
Good to have the rain, although maybe not all at once! I think I would enjoy the Kew Gardens exhibition, assuming they pay due respect to my favorite prehistoric plant, the sago palm.
The goose is indeed rather fine. And the new garden at Kew sounds fascinating. Once upon a time, when l lived in SW London (and the entrance fee was negligible and eyes lifted to the sky when Concorde flew overhead) I was a regular visitor to Kew Gardens. Time for a return visit! Cheers, Gail.
I wonder what Yvette Lundy would think of the victim of the acid attack in Milwaukee, or the Buffalo Wild Wings workers who asked the black family to move in order to not upset a racist regular.
The goose is something I could find a home for, in my garden, too.
I wonder what Bob and Sophie would make of it, if it found it's way into your garden? Oh, sorry - their garden!
Is that your village in the far distance in the first picture? I think a life sized bronze statue of a goose in your garden would be delightful!
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