Well, all that snow is just the odd patch - the temperature and the wind speed both increased so we're back to wet and windy Prince Rupert. Feeling very tired at the moment, which is odd as I've slept quite well the last couple of nights.

On the Countess Dowager of Pembroke

Underneath this sable hearse
Lies the subject of all verse:
Sidney's sister, Pembroke's mother:
Death, ere thou has slain another,
Fair and learned and good as she,
Time shall throw a dart at thee.

Marble piles let no man raise
To her name: for after days
Some kind woman born as she,
Reading this, like Niobe,
Shall turn marble, and become
Both her mourner and her tomb.

William Browne
c1590 - 1645

Well, the "little bit of snow" has turned into a LOT of snow - with more coming down - and I'm pretty much stuck up here on my hill. Not a big worry as I don't HAVE to be anywhere until Tuesday morning. However, I am going to find my cleats and my walking pole just in case I have to walk down the hill then. It's supposed to warm up to 6 degrees and rain tomorrow, but the weather forecast is never guaranteed.

It was my Cancer Support Group lunch yesterday and it was a great time. Especially now, it was so good to be with other women who understand exactly how I'm feeling and have been through the same thing. I came away feeling much more positive about everything.

After lunch I went down to the Craft Fair at the Civic Centre (and voted of course as the voting stations were also at the Civic Centre) and then had a lovely time wandering around looking at the skills and craftmanship of local people and some from Kitimat and Terrace. Bought a few things and found out the items I had put in were selling well. That's always a nice pat on the back.

Prayer the Church's Banquet

Prayer, the Church's banquet; Angels' age,
God's breath in man returning to his birth,
The soul in paraphrase, heart in pilgrimage,
The Christian plummet, sounding heaven and earth;
Engine against th' Almighty, sinner's tower,
Reversed thunder, Christ-side-piercing spear,
The six-days' world-transposing in an hour,
A kind of tune, which all things hear and fear;
Softness, and peace, and joy, and love, and bliss,
Exalted Manna, gladnes of the best;
Heaven in ordinary, man well dressed,
The milky way, the bird of Paradise,
Church-bells beyond the stars heard, the souls blood,
The land of spices; something understood.

George Herbert
1593 - 1633

I have my appointment! It's December 12th, which seems a long way off still, but I've relaxed considerably now that I know. If the highway is decent, Denise is going to drive me, but if it's a mess - or the weather is going to be bad - we'll take the Northern Health bus. Not as convenient once we're in Terrace, but safe.

Finished a few small stitching items yesterday - bookmarks, ornaments, fridge magnets - and gave them to Cynthia to put on her booth in the craft fair. I need to work on finishing the rest of the ornaments - they're not doing anyone any good sitting in a bag!

We're supposed to get a little snow today and tomorrow, then back to rain for the rest of the week.

How Sweet I Roam'd from Field to Field

How sweet I roam'd from field to field
And tasted all the summer's pride,
Till I the Prince of Love beheld
Who in the sunny beams did glide!

He show'd me lilies for my hair,
And blushing roses for my brow;
He led me through his gardens fair,
Where all his golden pleasures grow.

With sweet May dews my wings were wet,
And Phoebus fir'd my vocal rage;
He caught me in his silken net,
And shut me in his golden cage.

He loves to sit and hear me sing,
Then, laughing, sports and plays with me;
Then stretches out my golden wing,
And mocks my loss of liberty.

William Blake
1757 - 1827

Well, same song, 'nother verse - 3 weeks and 1 day and I still haven't heard about my appointment. I'm so stressed that my neck and across my shoulders was sore from the tension. How long can it possibly take to set a date and a time to use a piece of equipment???? They confirmed last Monday that all the paperwork was in order!

The Little Black Boy

My mother bore me in the southern wild,
And I am black, but O! my soul is white;
White as an angel is the English child,
But I am black as if bereav'd of light.

My mother taught me underneath a tree,
And sitting down before the heat of day,
She took me on her lap and kissed me,
And pointing to the east, began to say:

"Look on the rising sun: there God does live,
And gives his light, and gives his heat away;
And flowers and trees and beasts and men receive
Comfort in morning, joy in the noon day.

"And we are put on earth a little space,
That we may learn to bear the beams of love,
And these black bodies and this sun-burnt face
Is but a cloud, and like a shady grove.

"For when our souls have learn'd the heat to bear,
The cloud will vanish; we shall hear his voice,
Saying, 'Come out from the grove, my love & care,
And round my golden tent like lambs rejoice.' "

Thus did my mother say and kissed me;
And thus I say to little English boy:
When I from black and he from white cloud free,
And round the tent of God like lambs we joy,

I'll shade him from the heat till he can bear
To lean in joy upon our father's knee;
And then I"ll stand and stroke his silver hair,
And be like him, and he will then love me.

William Blake
1757 - 1827

Well, it's definitely late fall weather in Rupert. About 10 a.m. we had a downpour of hail, followed by an equally strong downpour of rain and now we have wind and grey clouds, but nothing is falling out of them.

Last night we had a lightning and thunder storm - very short but very intense and rain coming down so hard it sounded like hail and for about 5 minutes I couldn't even hear my TV it was so loud. The cats were NOT impressed - Yoda pressed in as close to my side as he could get and Snowy climbed on to my chest and had all 4 sets of claws through my clothes.

A Poison Tree

I was angry with my friend:
I told my wrath, my wrath did end.
I was angry with my foe:
I told it not, my wrath did grow.

And I water'd it in fears,
Night and morning with my tears;
And I sunned it with smiles,
And with soft deceitful wiles.

And it grew both day and night,
Till it bore an apple bright;
And my foe beheld it shine,
And he knew that it was mine,

And into my garden stole
When the night had veil'd the pole;
In the morning glad I see
My foe outstretch'd beneath the tree.

William Blake
1757 - 1827

I hope everyone is doing something in remembrance of, and gratitude to, our service men and women today. It's not raining in Rupert today, so the turn out for the cenotaph service should be pretty good. We owe them huge thanks for their service and sacrifice.

Going to be another quiet day I think - hoping this afternoon to get some stitches into O Canada - I really want to finish that "N" and maybe even my oldest UFO. There needs to be at least some progress when I post my update picture at the end of the month!

The Chimney Sweeper

When my mother died I was very young,
And my father sold me while yet my tongue
Could scarcely cry 'weep' 'weep' 'weep' 'weep?
So your chimneys I sweep, & in soot I sleep.

There's little Tom Dacre, who cried when his head,
That curled like a lamb's back, was shaved; so I said,
"Hush Tom never mind it, for when your head's bare,
You know that the soot cannot spoil your white hair."

And so he was quiet, & that very night,
As Tom was asleeping he had such a sight--
That thousands of sweepers Dick, Joe, Ned & Jack,
Were all of them locked up in coffins of black;

And by came an Angel who had a bright key,
And he opened the coffins & and set them all free;
Then down a green plain leaping, laughing they run,
And wash in a river and shine in the sun.

Then naked & white, all their bags left behind,
They rise upon clouds, and sport in the wind.
And the angel told Tom, if he'd be a good boy,
He'd have God for his father & never want joy.

And so Tom awoke, and we rose in the dark,
And got with our bags & our brushes to work.
Though the morning was cold, Tom was happy & warm;
So if all do their duty, they need not fear harm.

William Blake
1757 - 1827

Worked on Sisters' books - bank statement is reconciled and everything is up-to-date until we do our deposit on Thursday. Feels good to have that off my mental to-do list.

Going to be a quiet day I think - it's windy and drizzly and I don't HAVE to go out for any reason. I may get a few stitches into something while I wait for my phone call.

To the Evening Star

Thou Fair-haired Angel of the Evening,
Now, whilst the sun rests on the mountains, light
Thy bright torch of love; thy radiant crown
Put on, and smile upon our evening bed!
Smile on our loves; and while thou drawest the
Blue curtains of the sky, scatter thy silver dew
On every flower that shuts its sweet eyes

In timely sleep. Let thy West Wind sleep on
The lake; speak silence with thy glimmering eyes,
And wash the dusk with silver. Soon, full soon,
Dost thou withdraw; then the wolf rages wide,
And the lion glares through the dun forest:
The fleeces of the flocks are covered with
Thy sacred dew: protect them with thine influence.

William Blake
1757 - 1827

Well, having decided to join the SAL for finishing your oldest UFO, here's a picture of the completed pattern.



And here's what I've stitched so far.



Actually, the right side is the same as the left, but the scanner I'm using at the moment isn't big enough to show it all. It will feel so good to get some stitches in this and, as I said in my earlier post, maybe I'll even get it to Mike and Nikki by their 15th anniversary!! LOL

Well, I heard from the Terrace doctor's office this morning - all the paperwork is in order, but apparently the radiation department is short handed, so it's taking longer than usual to set up appointments. So I'll wait until end of day tomorrow, which will be two weeks, then I will get my referring surgeon to start bugging them. Doctors always get faster results than patients.

My first load of laundry is underway with 2 more to go, so I should be done by mid-afternoon as long as I don't get so wrapped up in what I'm doing that I forget about it.

Yoda has discovered that the laptop is nice and warm, especially if you sprawl across the keyboard, and is quite indignant that I keep moving him off. You can't do the usual spray bottle trick when your cat is lying on a computer. You know how it is with water and electronics!

Surprised by Joy

Surprised by joy--impatient as the wind
I turned to share the transport--Oh! with whom
But thee, deep buried in the silent tomb,
That spot which no vicissitude can find?
Love, faithful love, recalled thee to my mind--
But how could I forget thee? Through what power,
Even for the least division of an hour,
Have I been so beguiled as to be blind
To my most grievous loss!--That thought's return
Was the worst pang that sorrow ever bore,
Save one, one only, when I stood forlorn,
Knowing my heart's best treasure was no more;
That neither present time, nor years unborn
Could to my sight that heavenly face restore.

William Wordsworth
1770 - 1850

Written for his daughter who died age 4.

Time change last night and the cats were not happy - it messed up their breakfast time something awful! LOL But, food has been et and we have a black blob on one living room window perch and a white blob on the bed, so all is well - and peaceful.

And I've decided to put laundry off until tomorrow, procrastination being an art I am very skilled in. I'll probably kick myself tomorrow, but so be it. I really want to work some more on "O Canada" right now.

She Was a Phantom of Delight

She was a phantom of delight
When first she gleamed upon my sight;
A lovely apparition, sent
To be a moment's ornament;
Her eyes as stars of twilight fair;
Like twilight's, too, her dusky hair;
But all things else about her drawn
From May-time and the cheerful dawn;
A dancing shape, an image gay,
To haunt, to startle and waylay.

I saw her upon nearer view,
A Spirit, yet a Woman too!
Her household motions light and free,
And steps of virgin liberty;
A countenance in which did meet
Sweet records, promises as sweet;
A creature not too bright or good
For human nature's daily food;
For transient sorrows, simple wiles,
Praise, blame, love, kisses, tears, and smiles.

And now I see with eye serene
The very pulse of the machine;
A being breathing thoughtful breath,
A traveller between life and death;
The reason firm, the temperate will,
Endurance foresight, strength, and skill;
A perfect Woman, nobly planned,
To warn, to comfort, and command;
And yet a Spirit still, and bright
With something of angelic light.

William Wordsworth
1770 - 1850

Poem written about his wife.

Well, I've been invited to join a SAL to work on my oldest UFO and I think I will. It'll be a good way to get some stitches in my Antique Wedding Sample and maybe Nikki and Mike will get it before their 15th anniversary. I'll post a picture of where I am and the chart cover early next week.

Still no appointment date. Yesterday afternoon I tried calling both the doctors' offices here and in Terrace and they both close at noon on Fridays so I won't hear anything until Monday at the earliest. AAAARRRRRGGGGGG!!!!!!

Cynthia came over though and we had a great craft night - and she brought me cake pops! They were so yummy and so cute - I ate the cat and Frankenstein. She worked on making dish clothes and I got some more stitches in my "O Canada" project. I just have to do the "N" and I'm half done! It was nice to be able to concentrate and I managed not to make any counting errors. Now that's a definite plus.

Still no call from Terrace. I do so wish I would hear something - I'm all tied up in knots and I am NOT sleeping well.

Not much to say, really. I'm finding it difficult to concentrate on stitching - I think the frogs have parked under my stitching chair! And even reading is a problem. If I could just shut my mind off until I know something definite, how much easier that would be.

Hobenlinden

On Linden, when the sun was low,
All bloodless lay the untrodden snow,
And dark as winter was the flow
Of Iser, rolling rapidly.

But Linden saw another sight
When the drum beat at dead of night,
Commanding fires of death to light
The darkness of her scenery.

By torch and trumpet fast arrayed,
Each horseman drew his battle blade,
And furious every charger neighed
To join the dreadful revelry.

Then shook the hills with thunder riven,
Then rushed the steed to battle driven,
And louder than the bolts of heaven
Far flashed the red artillery.

But redder yet that light shall glow
On Linden's hills of stained snow,
And bloodier yet the torrent flow
Of Iser, rolling rapidly.

'Tis morn, but scarce yon level sun
Can pierce the war-clouds, rolling dun,
Where furious Frank and fiery Hun
Shout in their sulphurous canopy.

The combat deepens. On, ye brave,
Who rush to glory, or the grave!
Wave, Munich! all thy banners wave,
And charge with all thy chivalry!

Few, few shall part where many meet!
The snow shall be their winding-sheet,
And every turf beneath their feet
Shall be a soldier's sepulchre.

Thomas Campbell
1777 - 1844

The battle of Hobenlinden took place in December 1800 where the French defeated the Austrians.

Well, I turned the poppies into a birthday card, with the addition of some candy stickers and off I went to help my friend Betty celebrate her 50th! A lot of Fisheries people showed up - we met while she and I both worked there - plus some spouses so about 20 of us took over the upper level of the Crest lounge and enjoyed a good meal and a lot of laughter. Betty got given a nice mix of silly and serious gifts and a wonderful evening was enjoyed by all.

It was a nice distraction, as the possibility of breast cancer has reared its ugly head once again. I have been referred to Terrace to check the "something" that was found on my 1 year post-cancer mammogram - they have a machine that does 3-D images. Once they pinpoint it exactly, there will probably be another biopsy. And so the waiting game goes on. 10 days and counting!

Had a couple more finishes. This bunny - a Bucilla kit - I was working on before I concentrated solely on the Chinese wedding piece and I just had to finish the tail and do the back stitch and long stitch. I'm not 100% sure how I'll finish it, but I think it would make a cute pillow.

Just a little card that was the free kit with The World of Cross Stitching magazine, Issue 27. I think I need to pick up some small stickers and brighten it up a little. Managed to finish this in one afternoon of stitching.

Hoping I can get back to my rotation now and have some updates for the beginning of November.

Well, my personal computer has died and guess where the pictures of my time away are? Right! So I'm using the Sisters' computer to keep up with things, but it has some limitations.


I finished the Chinese Wedding piece I was working on and it came out very nicely.



Josie was very pleased with it when she picked it up, so that was good to hear.

Well, I've been away from home (and computerless) for 2 weeks. A proper post is coming as soon as I download the pictures from my camera.

Another day with sunshine coming through the windows, so the cats and I are happy, happy!

Spent a little over an hour this morning working on Sisters' books. Now I'm up to date again and everything should be okay while I'm away. Mind you, this is on top of the almost 7 hours I spent on Friday. The filing really needed to be re-organized and I did that. Rather monotonous and defintely time consuming, but will make a great difference now. I had set the original system up when I first started working at Sisters and didn't have the same understanding of what would be required. Ah well, live and learn.

Have a few things to do on the computer, than back to stitching. The man of the couple is completed and I have some of the woman's headdress. I would like to finish that this weekend and start on her gown. I would love to finish this piece at the retreat next weekend and get back to my rotation and the new birth announcement project.

England in 1819

An old, mad. blind, despised, and dying king,
Princes, the dregs of their dull race, who flow
Through public scorn, -- mud froma muddy spring, --
Rulers who neither see, nor feel, nor know,
But leech-like to their fainting country cling,
Till they drop, blind in blood, without a blow, --
A people starved and stabbed in the untilled field, --
An army, which liberticide and prey
Makes as a two-edged sword to all who wield, --
Golden and sanguine laws which tempt and slay;
Religion Christless, Godless -- a book sealed;
A Senate, -- Time's worst statute unrepealed, --
Are graves, from which a glorious Phantom may
Burst, to illumine our tempestuous day.

Percy Bysshe Shelley
1792 - 1822

Well, my mouth is almost back to normal - just the occasional twinge. What a relief!

We've had 2 days of sun - almost a record for this summer. And 3 days ago while there was no sun (cloudy) it was hot and muggy. And that is NOT a complaint. It was SO good to feel the warmth. Yesterday the cats spent their time sprawling out in every patch of sunshine they could find.

To _____________

One word is too often profaned
For me to profane it.
One feeling too falsely disdained
For thee to disdain it;
One hope is too like despair
For prudence to smother,
And pity from thee more dear
Than that from another.

I can give not what men call love,
But wilt thou accept not
The worship the heart lifts above
And the Heavens reject not, --
The desire of the moth for the star,
Of the night for the morrow,
The devotion to something afar
From the sphere of our sorrow?

Percy Bysshe Shelley
1792 - 1822

I'm still hurting, so I'm not a happy camper at the moment. At least I'm down to regular Tylenol only twice a day, but I really want this ache to go away. And it's still hard to chew on the right side!

However, this did not stop me from enjoying lunch out with Michelle and Brian yesterday. We ended up at the Bamboo Shoot where I had honey garlic chicken on coconut rice. Not the best for blood sugar readings, but wonderfully yummy.

Old Adam, the Carrion Crow

Old Adam, the carrion crow,
The old crow of Cairo;
He sat in the shower, and let it flow
Under his tail and over his crest;
And through every feather
Leaked the wet weather;
And the bough swung under his nest;
For his beak it was heavy with marrow.
Is that the wind dying? O no;
It's only two devils, that blow
Through a murderer's bones, to and fro,
In the ghosts' moonshine.

Ho! Eve, my grey carrion wife,
When we have supped on king's marrow,
Where shall we drink and make merry our life?
Our nest it is queen Cleopatra's skull,
'Tis cloven and cracked,
And battered and hacked,
But with tears of blue eyes it is full:
Let us drink then, my raven of Cairo.
Is that the wind dying? O no;
It's only two devils, that blow
Through a murderer's bones, to and fro,
In the ghosts' moonshine.

Thomas Lovell Beddoes
1803 - 1849

My mouth still hurts - I'm starting to get very grumpy about all this. And I'm tired of chewing only on the left side of my mouth!!!!

My mouth is still bothering me, but I have managed to avoid getting dry socket, so that is a plus. And a very good thing, as my dentist has closed up his office for 2 weeks and I would have had to phone around until I found another dentist you would be able to look after me. I'm still chewing only on the left side of my mouth - hopefully I can stop that in a couple of days.

This is becoming a "don't wanna" day - I should be working on Sisters' books, I should be stripping the bed and washing the mattress cover, I should be stitching . . . but I don't wanna do any of it. It's a very good thing there is no one here who has to listen to me. There will probably be SOME stitching done, but I'm even lacking enthusiasm for that at the moment - probably because I'm doing a LARGE and boring block of orange that has to be finished before I can continue on to something a little more interesting.

Brahma

If the red slayer think he slays,
Or if the slain think he is slain,
They know not well the subtle ways
I keep, and pass, and turn again.

Far or forgot to me is near;
Shadow and sunlight are the same;
The vanish'd gods to me appear;
And one to me are shame and fame.

They reckon ill who leave me out;
When me they fly, I am the wings;
I am the doubter and the doubt,
And I the hymn the Brahmin sings.

The strong gods pine for my abode,
And pine in vain the sacred Seven;
But thou, meek lover of the good!
Find me, and turn thy back on heaven.

Ralph Waldo Emerson
1803 - 1882

Well, the wisdom tooth extraction did not go as smoothly as the one 3 weeks ago. My appointment was shifted to 4 pm and I wasn't actually in the chair until 5 and then it took my dentist an hour of prying and tugging to get the tooth out. Obviously my teeth like being in my mouth! So, not only is the extraction area sore, but so are my right cheek and the corner of my mouth he was pressing on. But I haven't bruised, which really surprises me. So, I'm living on Tylenol 3s and smooth soup (to make sure nothing gets in the cavity) until tonight. Tomorrow I can start chewing soft stuff, carefully. Not surprisingly, I have a headache and it's a good thing I get to stay home today, as I would not be good company at all. The cats don't care if I whine and complain as long as I feed them!

The Chambered Nautilus

This is the ship of pearl, which, poets feign,
Sails the unshadowed main, --
The venturous bark that flings
On the sweet summer wind its purpled wings
In gulfs enchanted, where the Siren sings,
And coral reefs lie bare,
Where the cold sea-maids rise to sun their streaming hair.

Its webs of living gauze no more unfurl!
Wrecked is the ship of pearl!
And every chambered cell,
Where its dim dreaming life was wont to dwell,
As the frail tenant shaped his growing shell,
Before thee lies revealed, --
Its irised ceiling rent, its sunless crypt unsealed!

Year after year beheld the silent toil
That spread his lustrous coil;
Still, as the spiral grew,
He left the past year's dwelling for the new,
Stole with soft step its shining archway through,
Built up its idle door,
Stretched in his last-found home, and knew the old no more.

Thanks for the heavenly message brought by thee,
Child of the wandering sea,
Cast from her lap, forlorn!
From thy dead lips, a clearer note is born
Than ever Triton blew from wreathed horn!
While on mine ear it rings,
Through the deep caves of thought I hear a voice that sings: --

Build thee more stately mansions, O my soul,
As the swift seasons roll!
Leave thy low-vaulted past!
Let each new temple, nobler than the last,
Shut thee from heaven with a dome more vast,
Till thou at length art free,
Leaving thine outgrown shell by life's unresting sea!

Oliver Wendell Holmes
1809 - 1894

Supposed to be having another wisdom tooth extracted today, but the dentist's office has called and there has been an emergency, so I have to call back around 3 and see what's what. If things are going well, they will fit me in about 4, if not, will have to rebook at another date. I'm not sure which is worse - the waiting or the actual extraction.

"After great pain, a formal feeling comes"

After great pain, a formal feeling comes --
The Nerves sit ceremonious, like Tombs --
The stiff Heart questions was it He, that bore,
And Yesterday, or Centuries before?

The Feet, mechanical, go round --
Of Ground, or Air, or Ought --
A Wooden way
Regardless grown.
A Quartz contentment, like a stone --

This is the Hour of Lead --
Remembered, if outlived,
As Freezing persons, recollect the Snow --
First--Chill--then Stupor--then the letting go --

Emily Dickinson
1830 - 1886

I know I've been MIA for a couple of weeks, but there hasn't been much to talk about. Stitching, housework, Sisters, reading, sleeping - just the usual bits and pieces of life.

Anyone who has read "Alice in Wonderland" will recognize this one.

How Doth the Little Crocodile

How doth the little crocodile
Improve his shining tail,
And pour the waters of the Nile
On every golden scale!

How cheerfully he seems to grin,
How neatly spreads his claws,
And welcomes little fishes in
With gently smiling jaws!

Lewis Carroll (Charles Lutwidge Dodgson)
1832 - 1898

Apparently this is a parody of a poem by Isaac Watts - or at least the last two verses of it.

How doth the little busy bee
Improve each shining hour,
And gather honey all the day
From every opening flower?

How skillfully she builds her cell!
How neat she spreads the wax!
And labours hard to store it well
With the sweet food she makes.

Personally, I think the last line of this one falls a bit flat - the meter is off or something.

I seem to be living in slow motion these days and I can't blame having the wisdom tooth pulled - that stopped bothering me after the second day. Mind you, I haven't slept well or long for a few nights now, so that doesn't help much.

The Man He Killed

"Had he and I but met
By some old ancient inn,
We should have sat us down to wet
Right many a nipperkin!

"But ranged as infantry,
And staring face to face,
I shot at him as he at me,
And killed him in his place.

"I shopt him dead because--
Because he was my foe,
Just so: my foe of course he was;
That's clear enough; although

"He thought he'd 'list, perhaps,
Off-hand--just as I--
Was out of work--had sold his traps--
No other reason why.

"Yes; quaint and curious war is!
You shoot a fellow down
You'd treat if met where any bar is,
Or help to half-a-crown."

Thomas Hardy
1840 - 1928

Haven't done a lot of stitching over the past few days, so must get back at it. The deadline keeps approaching even though it seems a long way off at the moment. I don't want to be doing all day, late night marathons at the end.

A very nice sunny day - we've had several in a row which has been lovely. Maybe August will be our summer.

Neutral Tones

We stood by a pond that winter day,
And the sun was white, as though chidden of God,
And a few leaves lay on the starving sod;
-- They had fallen from an ash, and were gray.

Your eyes on me were as eyes that rove
Over tedious riddles of years ago;
And some words played between us to and fro
On which lost the more by our love.

The smile on your mouth was the deadest thing
Alive enough to have strength to die;
And a grin of bitterness swept thereby
Like an ominous bird a-wing. . . .

Since then, keen lessons that love deceives,
And wrings with wrong, have shaped to me
Your face, and the God-curst sun, and a tree,
And a pond edged with grayish leaves.

Thomas Hardy
1840 - 1928

It has been a quiet weekend, but I seem to be healing without any problems, so I've enjoyed it.

The Ruined Maid

"O 'Melia, my dear, this does everything crown!
Who could have supposed I should meet you in Town?
And whence such fair garments, such prosperi-ty?"
-- "O didn't you know I'd been ruined?" said she.

-- "You left us in tatters, without shoes or socks,
Tired of digging potatoes, and spudding up docks;
-- And now you've gay bracelets and bright feathers three!"
"Yes: that's how we dress when we're ruined," said she.

-- "At home in the barton you said 'thee' and 'thou,'
And 'thik oon,' and 'theas oon,' and 't'other'; but now
Your talking quite fits 'ee for high compan-ny!" --
"Some polish is gained with one's ruin," said she.

-- "Your hands were like paws then, your face blue and bleak
But now I'm bewitched by your delicate cheek,
And your little gloves fit as on any la-dy!"
-- "We never do work when we're ruined," said she.

"You used to call home-life a hag-ridden dream,
And you'd sigh, and you'd sock; but at present you seem
To know not of megrims or melanchol-ly!" --
"True. One's pretty lively when ruined," said she.

-- "I wish I had feathers, a fine sweeping gown,
And a delicate face, and could strut about Town!"
-- "My dear -- a raw country girl, such as you be,
Cannot quite expect that. You ain't ruined," said she.

Thomas Hardy
1840 - 1928

Quiet day today. Had my upper right wisdom tooth pulled yesterday afternoon, and while it wasn't the traumatic experience of my last one, it's still sore enough to merit no action. So, it looks like reading and stitching will occupy my time.

July 30

Quiet day - did my morning at Sisters (only 4 people all morning but it's a long weekend here and a lot of people are out of town) and then lunch and a nap as I slept VERY badly Friday night. I hate it when the night is marked off in hour and a half chunks.

Going to be a quiet weekend for me - a little reading, stitching, visit with a friend. It's hard to believe it's August already - or will be in less than 10 hours.

This should be a familiar poem.

Wynken, Blynken, and Nod

Wynken, Blynken, and Nod one night
Sailed off in a wooden shoe--
Sailed on a river of crystal light,
Into a sea of dew.
"Where are you going, and what do you wish?"
The old moon asked the three.
"We have come to fish for the herring fish
That live in this beautiful sea;
Nets of silver and gold have we!"
Said Wynken,
Blynken,
And Nod.

The old moon laughed and sang a song,
As they rocked in the wooden shoe,
And the wind that sped them all night long
Ruffled the waves of dew.
The little stars were the herring fish
That lived in that beautiful sea-- -- --
"Now cast your nets wherever you wish-- -- --
Never afeard are we";
So cried the stars to the fishermen three:
Wynken,
Blynken,
And Nod.

All night long their nets they threw
To the stars in the twinkling foam-- -- --
Then down from the skies came the wooden shoe,
Bringing the fishermen home;
'T was all so pretty a sail it seemed
As if it could not be,
And some folks thought 'twas a dream they'd dreamed
Of sailing that beautiful sea-- -- --
But I shall name you the fishermen three:
Wynken,
Blynken,
And Nod.

Wynken and Blynken are two little eyes,
And Nod is a little head,
And the wooden shoe that sailed the skies
Is a wee one's trundle-bed.
So shut your eyes while your mother sings
Of wonderful sights that be,
And you shall see the beautiful things
As you rock in the misty sea,
Where the old shoe rocked the fishermen three:
Wynken,
Blynken,
And Nod.

Eugene Field
1850 - 1895

It's been a running around kind of day. Spent a couple of hours working on Sisters' books this morning and then I was off. First a stop at my favourite news stand, then the Royal Bank for Sisters' business. City Hall to pick up my bus pass for August, then Sisters to give out a pay cheque and put some things away, then the Bank of Montreal to pay my rent. Treated myself to lunch at Fairview Restaurant, then up to the hospital pharmacy to pick up my Tamoxifen. They've moved the pharmacy and it's a little tricky to find as it is behind a door that says, in very large letters, "No Admittance". Now that's a head scratcher. Finally to Overwaitea for my weekly grocery shopping - some really good prices on fresh fruit so I have cherries, nectarines and kiwi in my fridge at the moment.

This is favourite anthology poem #375 and I remember my Dad teaching it to me when I was 5 or 6. I thought it was terribly funny back then. Never thought of it as a poem that would show up in a lot of anthologies. Anyone else remember this?

The Purple Cow

I never saw a Purple Cow,
I never hope to see one;
But I can tell you, anyhow,
I'd rather see than be one.

Gelett Burgess
1866 - 1951

Apparently Mr. Burgess wasn't all that thrilled with the attention it got, so a few years later, 5 presumably, he wrote this.

Cinq Ans Apres

Ah, yes! I wrote the "Purple Cow"--
I'm Sorry, now, I Wrote it!
But I can Tell you, Anyhow,
I'll Kill you if you Quote it!

The floss I ordered last week from Traditional Stitches (http://www.traditionalstitches.com) arrived today. Janice is such a sweetie when you do an SOS order. Now I can start working on the red and the Chinese characters in the pattern. The lady who wants the piece only got one skein of floss and there is way too much red for that. And she had the wrong colour for the characters (which apparently mean "good luck"), so now I can start doing large chunks instead of bits and pieces. HOORAY!!

For a Dead Lady

No more with overflowing light
Shall fill the eyes that now are faded,
Nor shall another's fringe with night
Their woman-hidden world as they did.
No more shall quiver down the days
The flowing wonder of her ways,
Whereof no language may requite
The shifting and the many-shaded.

The grace, divine, definitive,
Clings only as a faint forestalling;
The laugh that love could not forgive
Is hushed, and answers to no calling;
The forehead and the little ears
Have gone where Saturn keeps the years;
The breast where roses could not live
Has done with rising and with falling.

The beauty, shattered by the laws
That have creation in their keeping,
No longer trembles at applause,
Or over children that are sleeping;
And we who delve in beauty's lore
Know all that we have known before
Of what inexorable cause
Makes Time so vicious in his reaping.

Edwin Arlington Robinson
1869 - 1935

My boss is away until after the long weekend, so I'll be working two Saturdays in a row. Not a hardship by any means, but I am so spoiled normally having a four day weekend every second week. On a positive note, she has left me her vehicle which makes life so much easier when there are errands to run.

Been working on my Chinese wedding piece and it's going well, but all the red is going to be pretty monotonous I think. Oh well, I'll survive.

Cargoes

Quinquireme of Nineveh from distant Ophir
Rowing home to haven in sunny Palestine,
With a cargo of ivory,
And apes and peacocks,
Sandalwood, cedarwood, and sweet white wine.

Stately Spanish galleon coming from the Isthmus,
Dipping through the Tropics by the palm-green shores,
With a cargo of diamonds,
Emeralds, amethysts,
Topazes, and cinnamon, and gold moidores.

Dirty British coaster with a salt-caked smoke stack
Butting through the Channel in the mad March days,
With a cargo of Tyne coal,
Road-rail, pig-lead,
Firewood, iron-ware, and cheap tin trays.

John Masefield
1878 - 1967

July 22

We seem to be alternating between rainy days and non-rainy days. I wish I could say sunny, but they are not. Lawns are thriving and gardens need little attention - except for weeds- but it makes for a lousy summer.

Design

I found a dimpled spider, fat and white,
On a white heal-all, holding up a moth
Like a white piece of rigid satin cloth--
Assorted characters of death and blight
Mixed ready to begin the morning right,
Like the ingredients of a witches' broth--
A snow-drop spider, a flower like a froth,
And dead wings carried like a paper kite.

What had that flower to do with being white,
The wayside blue and innocent heal-all?
What brought the kindred spider to that height,
Then steered the white moth thither in the night?
What but design of darkness to appall?--
If design govern in a thing so small.

Robert Frost
1874 - 1963

We're back to chilly rain. Bah humbug!!!!!

Fog

The fog comes
on little cat feet.

It sits looking
over harbor and city
on silent haunches
and then, moves on.

Carl Sandberg
1878 - 1967

July 18

Spent yesterday lazing about instead of doing some laundry so today I HAVE to do it - at least 4 loads which may not sound large if you have a family, but is huge when there is only one of you. There may be more if I find the energy to strip the bed - everything needs to be washed, including the mattress cover.

Today will be a stitching day between loads of laundry. Didn't do any of that yesterday either, but there will be very few non-stitching days because of the deadline for the wedding piece.

We've actually had consecutive warm and sort of sunny days this weekend. Dare I think that summer has decided to appear?

Cool Tombs

When Abraham Lincoln was shoveled into the tombs he forgot
the copperheads and the assassin . . . in the dust, in the
cool tombs.

And Ulysses Grant lost all thought of con men and Wall Street,
cash and collateral turned ashes . . . in the dust, in the cool
tombs.

Pocahontas' body, lovely as a poplar, sweet as a red haw in
November or a pawpaw in May, did she wonder? does she
remember? . . . in the dust, in the cool tombs?

Take any streetful of people buying clothes and groceries,
cheering a hero or throwing confetti and blowing tin
horns . . . tell me if the lovers are losers . . . tell me if any
get more than the lovers . . . in the dust . . . in the cool
tombs.

Carl Sandbery
1878 - 1967

July 16

Went to Terrace with Denise - her vehicle needed servicing. It was a good drive - started under a light drizzle, ended under huge patches of blue and the day improved from there. We were at the dealership for barely an hour, then we went to Wal-Mart. We weren't there long, but they had a few items on sale that couldn't be matched here. Then lunch at Mr. Mike's (where I burnt the roof of my mouth on the stuffed cannelloni, but not badly, thank goodness) followed by Pennington's, Cole's Books (came out empty handed from both places which was a shock) and finally the Super Store just before we headed home. The weather was glorious all the way home, so at some point Rupert obviously cleared up. It was a great day!



My stitching rotation is going to be put aside for a while - I've picked up a commission to stitch a wedding piece that has to be done by the end of October. It's a Chinese couple in traditional costume with language characters in the background. I think it's a decent time frame, but it will require stitching every day. It's not being done on red though but white - 14 count Aida.

Grass

Pile the bodies high at Austerlitz and Waterloo.
Shovel them under and let me work --

I am the grass; I cover all.


And pile them high at Gettysburg
And pile them high at Ypres and Verdun.
Shovel them under and let me work.
Two years, ten years, and passengers ask the conductor:
What place is this?
Where are we now?


I am the grass.
Let me work.


Carl Sandburg
1878 - 1967

Quiet couple of days - not much happening except for some stitching.

Spring and All

By the road to the contagious hospital
under the surge of the blue
mottled clouds driven from the
northeast--a cold wind. Beyond, the
waste of broad, muddy fields
brown with dried weeds, standing and fallen

patches of standing water
the scattering of tall trees

All along the road the reddish
purplish, forked, upstanding, twiggy
stuff of bushes and small trees
with dead, brown leaves under them
leafless vines --

Lifeless in appearance, sluggish
dazed spring approaches --

They enter the new world naked,
cold, unceratin of all
save that they enter. All about them
the cold, familiar wind--

Now the grass, tomorrow
the stiff curl of wildcarrot leaf
One by one objects are defined--
It quickens: clarity, outline of leaf

But now the stark dignity of
entrance -- Still, the profound change
has come upon them: rooted, they
grip down and begin to awaken.

William Carlos Williams
1883 - 1963

Going to be a quiet day I think. I'm debating doing laundry, but at this point the "cons" are going to win I think.

Had a power outage for about 12 minutes first thing this morning, which felt odd as we are NOT having a storm. It's rather nice again today, except there is less sun and more high cloud.

The End of the World

Quite unexpectedly as Vasserot
The armless ambidextrian was lighting
A match between his great and second toe,
And Ralph the lion was engaged in biting
The neck of Madame Sossman while the drum
Pointed, and Teeny was about co cough
In waltz-time swinging Jocko by the thumb --
Quite unexpectedly the top blew off:

And there, there overhead, there, there hung over
Those thousands of white faces, those dazed eyes,
There in the starless dark the poise, the hover,
There with vast wings, across the canceled skies,
There in the sudden blackness the black pall
Of nothing, nothing, nothing -- nothing at all.

Archibald MacLeish
1892 - 1902

We've had some sunshine for TWO days now. I'm almost afraid to say it alound in case it all goes away. Still not super warm - 14 & 15 but absolutely beautiful.

I'm thinking I'm going to have a non-stitching day and catch up on my reading. I'm only at chapter 6 of Q is for Quarry and it's due back (along with R and S) on Friday.

Shine, Perishing Republic

While this America settles in the mould of its vulgarity, heavily thickening to empire,
And protest, only a bubble in the molten mass, pops and sighs out, and the mass hardens,

I sadly smiling remember that the flower fades to make fruit, the fruit rots to make earth.
Out of the mother; and through the spring exultances, ripeness and decadence; and home to the mother.

You making haste haste on decay: not blameworthy; life is good, be it stubbornly long or suddenly
A mortal splendor: meteors are not needed less that mountains: shine, perishing republic.

But for my children, I would have them keep their distance from the thickening center; corruption
Never has been compulsory, when the cities lie at the monster's feet there are left the moutains.

And boys, be in nothing so moderate as in love of man, a clever servant, insufferable master.
There is the trap that catches noblest spirits, that caught -- they say -- God, when he walked on earth.

Robinson Jeffers
1887 - 1962

Part 2

And here's where I am with Bunny, the second of my Thursday pictures.

And that is the last of the updates for my rotation. I'll be updating again the first week of August.

July 7

I think this is going to be a two-parter today, as I've finished one of my Thursday projects, but I'm not done stitching for the day.

These are the two projects as of 9 June.



And here's the completed Michey (bottom project in the above photo).



This was the free kit included with The World of Cross Stitch (magazine from the UK) Issue 25, November 1999. I'm not sure I'll keep the 'Merry Christmas' frame as there is nothing especially Christmasy about the piece. We shall see.

Lullaby

Lay your sleeping head, my love,
Human on my faithless arm;
Time and fevers burn away
Individual beauty from
Thoughtful children, and the grave
Proves the child ephemeral:
But in my arms till break of day
Let the living creature lie,
Mortal, guilty, but to me
The entirely beautiful.

Soul and body have no bounds:
To lovers as they lie upon
Her tolerant enchanted slope
In their ordinary swoon,
Grave the vision Venus sends
Of supernatural sympathy,
Universal love and hope;
While an abstract insight wakes
Anong the glaciers and the rocks
The hermit's carnal ecstasy.

Certainty, fidelity
On the stroke of mignight pass
Like vibrations of a bell,
And fashionable madmen raise
Their pedantic boring cry:
Every farthing of the cost,
All the dreaded cards foretell,
Shall be paid, but from this night
Not a whisper, not a thought,
Not a kiss nor look be lost.

Beauty, midnight, vision dies:
Let the winds of dawn that blow
Softly round your dreaming head
Such a day of sweetness show
Eye and knocking heart may bless,
Find the mortal world enough;
Noons of dryness see you fed
By the involuntary powers,
Nights of insult let you pass
Watched by every human love.

Wystan Hugh Auden
1907 - 1973

July 6

And here's my Wednesday piece - June 15



And as of end of today.



When I update in August I may not be able to scan this one any more, so I'll make sure my camera is handy and charged.

July 5

And here is the Tuesday update for O Canada. This is 7 June.



And this is 5 July.



I'm really pleased at how well this one is stitching up.

July 4

This is the update for my Monday stitching piece. This top one was from 13 June.



This is as of the end of stitching tody.

July 3

And here's the update for the Sunday stitching piece. Top picture is where it was on 12 June.



This is where I've gotten to by end of stitching today. The next time I stitch something on black, I don't think I'll use linen again. The inconsistency in the thickness of the threads is very off-putting so I think I will stick to black Lugana or another one of the even weaves where the threads are the same size.



Elegy for Jane

I remember the neckcurls, limp and damp as tendrils;
And her quick look, a sidelong pickered smile;
And how, once startled into talk, the light syllables leaped for her.
And she balanced in the delight of her thought,
A wren, happy, tail into the wind,
Her song trembling the twigs and small branches.
The shade sang with her;
The leaves, their whispers turned to kissing,
And the mould sang in the bleached valleys under the rose.

Oh, when she was sad, she cast herself down into such a pure depth,
Even a father could not find her:
Scraping her cheek against straw,
Stirring the clearest water.
My sparrow, you are not here,
Waiting like a fern, making a spiny shadow.
The sides of wet stones cannot console me;
Nor the moss, wound with the last light.

If only I could nudge you from this sleep,
My maimed darling, my skittery pigeon.
Over this damp grave I speak the words of my love:
I, with no rights in this matter,
Neither father nor lover.

Theodore Roethee
1908 - 1963

July 2

Well, here's the progress on my Saturday stitching. This one is where it was as of June 11,



this is where I'm at as of end of day today. When I finish the colour I'm working on now I have one more - darker - and then the back stitching.



I Think Continually of Those Who Were Truly Great

I think continually of those who were truly great,
Who, from the womb, remembered the soul's history
Through corridors of light where the hours are suns,
Endless and singing. Whose lovely ambition
Was that their lips, still touched with fire,
Would tell of the spirit clothed from head to foot in song.
And who hoarded from the spring branches
The desires falling across their bodies like blossoms.

What is precious is never to forget
The delight of the blood drawn from ageless springs
Breaking through rocks in worlds before our earth;
Never to deny its pleasure in the simple morning light,
Nor its grave evening demand for love;
Never to allow gradually the traffic to smother
With noise and fog the flowering of the spirit.

Near the snow, near the sun, in the highest fields
See how those names are feted by the wavering grass,
And by the streamers of white cloud,
And whispers of wind in the listening sky;
The names of those who in their lives fought for life,
Who wore at their hearts the fire's centre.
Born of the sun they traveled a short while towards the sun,
And left the vivid air signed with their honour.

Sir Stephen Spender
1909 -

July 1

Okay, it's the first Friday of the month, so time for the update on my Friday project. The one on the top is how it looked June 10, on the bottom how it looked at the end of today. Much better definition around the eye and ear. I think as I finish the next couple of colours the coat will fill in more. All in all, I'm pleased with the progress.



Got taken out for lunch today at my favourite local restaurant - Cow Bay Cafe. The food here is always fabulous - they have one of those whiteboard menus because it changes every day. Never had a bad meal there. And it was so nice to catch up with Denise and Karen - especially Karen as I probably won't see her again until Christmas. She and Stan are off to Area 6 for salmon season, then over to Haida Gwaii for the winter doing PSP sampling.

Terrible weather for July 1 - cold, drizzle, wind - but there were still lots of people in Mariners' Park for the festivities and a continuous line for the tour of the Canadian Armed Forces boat that was here. It was cold enough I seriously thought of hauling out my electric blanket when I was ready for bed. And lots of people are, grudgingly, turning their furnaces back on. It's just ridiculous.

June 30

Busy morning at Sisters, but I did get a little stitching done on Mickey and have started on the back stitch. After my shift, wandered around town paying bills, then grabbed a sandwich at Subway and headed home.

And in my mailbox, STASH!!!!! A wonderful big envelope from Traditional Stitches (http://www.traditionalstitches.com) with floss, fabric, magazine and my June SEP (stash enhancement program) goodies. This had gotten stuck in the postal strike, but I had a wonderful time going through everything.

Naming of Parts

Today we have naming of parts. Yesterday,
We had daily cleaning. And tomorrow morning,
We shall have what to do after firing. But today,
Today, we have naming of parts. Japonica
Glistens like coral in all of the neighbouring gardens,
And today we have naming of parts.

This is the lower sling swivel. And this
Is the upper sling swivel, whose use you will see,
When you are given your slings. And this is the piling swivel,
Which in your case you have not got. The branches
Hold in the gardens their silen, eloquent gestures,
Which in our case we have not got.

This is the safety-catch, which is always released
With an easy flick of the thumb. And please do not let me
See anyone using his finger. You can do it quite easy
If you have any strength in your thumb. The blossoms
Are fragile and motionless, never letting anyone see
Any of them using their finger.

And this you can see is the bolt. The purpose of this
Is to open the breech, as you see. We can slide it
Rapidly backwards and forwards: we call this
Easing the spring. And rapidly backwards and forwards
The early bees are assaulting and fumbling the flowers:
They call it easing the Spring.

They call it easing the Spring: it is perfectly easy
If you have any strength in your thumb: like the bolt,
And the breech and the cocking-piece, and the point of balance,
Which in our case we have not got; and the almond-blossom
Silent in all of the gardens and the bees going backwards and forwards,
For today we have naming of parts.

Henry Reed
1914 - 1986

June 28

Fairly quiet day. Worked a little on "O Canada" while I was at Sisters, but then napped in the afternoon. Spent some time gathering papers so I can do the end of the month bookkeeping and make sure that all the levels of government get their money. Talk about a make work project!

Today's poem needs a bit of explanation. A "lyke" is a corpse, a "wake" is a night vigil kept by it, a "whinny-muir" is a moor with thorny shrubs, "bane" is bone and "brig" is bridge.

A Lyke-Wake Dirge

This ae nighte, this ae nighte,
-- Every nighte and alle,
Fire and fleet and candle-lighte,
And Christe receive they saule.

When thou from hence away art past,
-- Every nighte and alle,
To Whinny-muir thou com'st at last;
And Christe receive thy saule.

If ever thou gavest hosen and shoon,
-- Every night and alle,
Sit thee down and put them on;
And Christe receive thy saule.

If hosen and shoon thou ne'er gav'st nane
-- Every nighte and alle,
The whinnes sall prick thee to the bare bane;
And Christe receive thy saule.

From Whinny-muir when thou may'st pass,
-- Every night and alle,
To Brig o'Dread thou com'st at last;
And Christe receive thy saule.

From Brig o'Dread when thou may'st pass,
-- Every nighte and alle,
To Purgatory fire thou com'st at last;
And Christe receive thy saule.

If ever thou gavest meat or drink,
-- Every nighte and alle,
The fire sall never make thee shrink;
And Christe receive thy saule.

If meat or drink thou ne'er gav'st nane,
-- Every nighte and alle,
The fire will burn thee to the bare bane;
And Christe receive thy saule.

This ae nighte, this ae nighte,
-- Every nighte and alle,
Fire and fleet and candle-lighte,
And Christe receive thy saule.

Anonymous

June 27

Spent part of the morning checking on various parcels and found out only one got stuck in the Canada Post strike - everyone else waited and will ship either later this week or after the long weekend. The "stuck" one is crafting supplies, so I hope it hasn't gone seriously astray.

Got picked up shortly after 1 pm by Michelle and Brian for our end of the monthy lunch and we ended up at Uncle Buck's. Had a Vietnamese noodle dish with BBQ pork and spring rolls. Very tasty.

Managed to get a few hours of stitching on my dogs. I will be showing updates starting on Friday. Hopefully there will be a difference that can be seen easily.

On Thursday I picked up some prints I had done for Sara, my little girl in El Salvador. I haven't gotten prints in years, so was curious what the cost would be. Well, the process can't be all that complicated as the 4 cost a vast $1.57, including tax!

Got to the library Friday afternoon and picked up Q, R and S of Sue Grafton's mystery alphabet. That only leaves me 2 to go, although I understand V will be out in the fall. There's a new Stephanie Plum out (#17) so I'll check for that as well.

My stitching is going well - I'll be showing updates starting on Friday. Once a month is going to be about right I think. Of course, any completions will be shown as they are finished.

My Love in Her Attire

My love in her attire doth show her wit,
It doth so well become her:
For every season she hath dressings fit,
For winter, spring, and summer.
No beauty she doth miss,
When all her robes are on;
But Beauty's self she is,
When all her robes are gone.

Anonymous

June 21

Got in some stitching time on "O Canada", but it was a bad night last night and I didn't get my nap, so I stopped when I realized I was starting to make counting mistakes. I can see progress though.

Not a very summer-like first day of summer, although by the end of the day the sun came out and the wind blew and it looked hopeful at least!

Care-Charmer Sleep, Son of the Sable Night

Care-charmer Sleep, son of the sable Night,
Brother to Death, in silent darkness born,
Relieve my languish, and restore the light;
With dark forgetting of my cares return.
And let the day be time enough to mourn
The shipwreck of my ill-adventured youth;
Let waking eyes suffice to wail their scorn
Without the torment of the night's untruth.
Cease, dreams, th' images of day-desires,
To model forth the passions of the morrow;
Never let rising sun approve you liars,
To add more grief to aggravate my sorrow.
Still let me sleep, embracing clouds in vain,
And never wake to feel the day's disdain.

Samuel Daniel
1562 - 1619

June 19

No stitch day today. My shoulder was feeling just a little sore, so I gave it a break. Means my Sunday project won't get worked on this week, but everything feels fine today, so it was the right decision.

Was a blah kind of day, so I ordered pizza! Not the best choice of suppers, but I hadn't done that in about 6 months, so I enjoyed it. Had a small beef taco pizza so had lots of fresh lettuce and tomatoes. Has to be healthy, right?? LOL

When Daffodils Begin to Peer

When daffodils begin to peer,
With heigh! the doxy, over the dale,
Why, then comes in the sweet o' the year;
For the red blood reigns in the winter's pale.

The white sheet bleaching on the hedge,
With heigh! the sweet birds, O, how they sing!
Doth set my pugging tooth on edge,
For a quart of ale is a dish for a king.

The lark, that tirra-lirra chants,
With heigh! with heigh! the thrush and the jay,
Are summer songs for me and my aunts,
While we lie tumbling in the hay.

William Shakespeare
1564 - 1616

18 June

Cancer Support lunch today and there was a large group of us - the Crest had to add more settings at our table. Had a new member as well which leaves us torn - it's great to have new people, but we wish there would never be a reason for someone to have to join us. It was a delicious lunch and lots of talk and laughter.

Then grocery shopping. For some reason that felt like a real chore yesterday, but I was home soon enough and had everything put away quickly.

After supper I had a lovely stitchy evening, so the day ended on a great note.

How like a Winter Hath My Absence Been

How like a winter hath my absence been
From thee, the pleasure of the fleeting year!
What freezings have I felt, what dark days seen!
What old December's bareness everywhere!
And yet this time removed was summer's time.
The teeming autumn, big with rich increase,
Bearing the wanton burthen of the prime,
Like widowed wombs after their lords' decease;
Yet this abundant issue seemed to me
But hope of orphans and unfathered fruit;
For summer and his pleasures wait on thee,
And, thou away, the very birds are mute;
Or, if they sing, 'tis with so dull a cheer
That leaves look pale, dreading the winter's near.

William Shakespeare
1564 - 1616

Good craft night last night and made nice headway with both my Thursday projects.

Since Brass, nor Stone, nor Earth, nor Boundless Sea

Since brass, nor stone, nor earth, nor boundless sea,
But sad mortality o'ersways their power,
How with this rage shall beauty hold a plea,
Whose action is no stronger than a flower?
O how shall summer's honey breath hold out
Against the wrackful siege of batt'ring days,
When rocks impregnable are not so stout,
Nor gates of steel so strong but time decays?
O fearful meditation, where alack,
Shall Time's best jewel from Time's chest lie hid?
Or what strong hand can hold his swift foot back,
Or who his spoil of beauty can forbid?
O none, unless this miracle have might,
That in black ink my love may still shine bright.

William Shakespeare
1564 - 1616

Another Sisters day. Thank goodness for naps! And I used to think getting up at 6 to be at work at 8 was hard. Mind you, I was much younger then. LOL! A whole 5 years ago.

Spring, the Sweet Spring

Spring, the sweet spring, is the year's pleasant king;
Then blooms each thing, then maids dance in a ring,
Cold doth not sting, the pretty birds do sing,
"Cuckoo, jug-jug, pu-we, to-witta-woo!"

The palm and may make country houses gay,
Lambs frisk and play, the shepherds pipe all day,
And we hear aye birds tune this merry lay,
"Cuckoo, jug-jug, pu-we, to-witta-woo."

The fields breathe sweet, the daisies kiss our feet,
Young lovers meet, old wives a-sunning sit,
In every street these tunes our ears do greet,
"Cuckoo, jug-jug, pu-we, to-witta-wo!"
Spring, the sweet spring!

Thomas Nashe
1567 - 1601

Part 2

Well, I'm done stitching for the day, so I thought I would upload the picture now. My Wednesday piece is another Cross My Heart pattern Antique Wedding Sampler. The picture is a little difficult to see at the moment because it's colours like taupe, parchment and ecru on an ivory fabric. Hopefully there will be some clarity when I start getting the back stitch and long stitch in. I've been working on this on and off for several years (gulp) now and it just seems easier at the moment. I think in part because I've stitched so much I'm just that much more comfortable with the whole process.

I keep talking about my stitching rotation, so I thought I would show you what it is I'm working on. I have a different project for each day of the week.

This one is a patchwork by Catia Dias. It has 12 sections and I'm working on the border just before Section 7, which I will do next. This is my Saturday project.



This is a Sue Coleman design called Wolf. It's my Friday project.



These are two small projects just to make sure I have some completions as I go along to keep my determination up. The top one is a Bucilla kit - Bunny - and the bottom one is one of the freebies that comes with the British magazine The World of Cross Stitch - it's Mickey Mouse. These are my Thursday projects.



Don't have a picture of my Wednesday project right now. I haven't managed to work on it yet, but hopefully today and I'll post in my next blog.

This is a Sue Orton design called O Canada. It's my Tuesday project.



This is from a Cross Your Heart booklet called Moms and Pups and is my Monday project. It's very odd to have that eye looking at me as I stitch.

And this is my last one - Blaine Billman's Spirit of the Sockeye which I work on Sunday. Haven't gotten very far with it yet (working on black is very slow for me), but I think it will be striking when it's done.

I'm going to try and post a new picture every month just so I can see the progress. Only doing one day a week I don't always see what I've accomplished.

And I'm going to have to work out an 8th day as I will be joining (as soon as my supplies get here) a SAL with Evalina and Cindy to stitch a HAED design called Computer Catastrophes. I'm thinking of making it my Thursday project, but we shall see.

It's been trickier than I thought to get back into my stitch rotation - got in less than 2 hours yesterday, but I'm sure I'll get there. Hopefully today will be better.

Slow, Slow, Fresh Fount, Keep Time with My Salt Tears

Slow, slow, fresh fount, keep time with my salt tears;
Yet slower yet, oh faintly gentle springs:
List to the heavy part the music bears,
"Woe weeps out her division when she sings."
Droop herbs and flowers;
Fall grief in showers;
"Our beauties are not ours":
Like melting snow upon some craggy hill,
Drop, drop, drop, drop,
Since nature's pride is, now, a withered daffodil.

Ben Jonson
1572 - 1637

Well, since yesterday's blog worked properly, I'm going to try a poem today and see if the line breaks show up where they are supposed to.

The Lark Now Leaves His Watery Nest

The lark now leaves his watery nest,
And climbing, shakes his dewy wings;
He takes this window for the east,
And to implore your light, he sings,
Awake, awake, the morn will never rise,
Till she can dress her beauty at your eyes.

The merchant bows unto the seaman's star,
The ploughman from the sun his season takes;
But still the lover wonders what they are,
Who look for day before his mistress wakes.
Awake, awake, break through your veils of lawn,
Then draw your curtains, and begin the dawn.

Sir William Davenant
1606 - 16668

Finally, my computer is working properly again (I think), so I thought I would show off my latest cross stitch finishes. This first one a friend commissioned for her first grandchild. It's a Stoney Creek pattern and was a fun stitch except when I miscounted and had to pull out the entire right hand side multi-coloured border. That's what happens when you try to do "just a few more stitches" and you're tired! Sandy is very happy with it though and that's what counts.



This one is another hooded bath towel. One of the ladies who is a member at Sisters (where I work) asked if I would do it for her first grandchild. It's the pattern that came with the towel. Another fun stitch but the top is a bit tricky as there is not much maneuvering room.



Now that the requested pieces are done, I'm back to working on my rotation of large pieces. I have a different one for each day of the week to keep me from getting discouraged and each piece grows a little. I'm thinking I may start posting monthly updates - motivation for me and it will be easier to see the difference a month makes.

Been reading, of course. I finished the Stephanie Plum novels by Janet Evanovich and I'm now working my way through Sue Grafton's alphabet mysteries. I'm on "N is for Noose" at the moment. The series goes up to U right now, although I understand V is coming out this fall. I should be ready for it by then! LOL

Weather is still a whole lot cooler than it should be, but at least we are seeing sunshine, so I guess it's an okay trade off.

Lost 5.5 lbs this month. That makes a total of 29! YEAH!

Not too much going on - I've been spending every spare minute stitching on 2 projects with deadlines. Once they're all complete I will post pictures and hopefully get back to blogging on a somewhat more regular basis.

I've decided I've messed up my computer set up as there are a number of sites that are not working properly. Time to get a real pro in here and get things sorted out. Was at Sisters yesterday morning and, spring or not, it was still cold in there. Mind you, we were snowed on a little (while the sun was shining no less). I was very glad I decided at the last minute to wear my vest and the little under the desk heater was going full blast. Didn't stitch yesterday - shoulders and thumbs were sore, but I have the major portion of the cloud done. YEAH! Now I just have to do the 3 main stars and I will be able to finish it and move on to the borders. I like the progress. Am reading Sue Grafton's "F is for Fugitive" and it is starting out very well.

Hopefully Blogspot isn't so grumpy today and I can do a proper post. Did the Saturday shift at Sisters again this week, but I get the next 3 Saturdays off which is worth looking forward to. I've been making arrangements for a trip in the fall and only have one more piece to fall into place and I'm set. I am so looking forward to getting away, especially as this will be for fun, not for health reasons. Speaking of health, I had my 6 month mammogram and check up and everything seems to be fine. YEAH!! Well, as you can see, it's the same problem. There should be five different paragraphs. Bother!

Well, there is something screwy going on today - the blog doesn't recognize my end of line enters so the poem is just one lump. I'll maybe try again later.

Figured out how to download photos with my new computer. This one downloads directly from the memory card and it's not difficult, but I obviously did something wrong the first time I tried because nothing ended up on the computer. Oh, well, at least I didn't accidentally delete anything. End result, I can now share the photos of my new cat (or at least he was when I took the picture) Yoda and the unexpected visitor in my front yard one snowy day.

This is Yoda, trying to decide if the thing in my hand makes it okay for him to jump on the table. It didn't, but he had to try!

A wintery snooze.

Part of the harbour in the background.

He really was a gorgeous buck.

This I think was the real attraction - LUNCH!

The Mower to the Glow-Worms

Ye living lamps, by whose dear light The nightingale does sit so late

And studying all the summer night,

Her matchless songs does meditate;

Ye country comets, that portend

No war, nor prince's funeral.

Shining unto no higher end

Than to presage the grasses'fall;

Ye glow-worms, whose officious flame

To wandering mowers shows the way,

That in the night have lost their aim,

And after foolish fires do stray;

Your courteous lights in vain you waste,

Since Juliana here is come,

For she my mind hath so displaced

That I shall never find my home.

Andrew Marvell

1621 - 1678

Another sunny day! Love it!

Think this will be a reading afternoon - I've been stitching and my left thumb hurts from holding the fabric. I've started Sue Grafton's alphabet series and I've done A, B, C and D so I'll start "E is for Evidence" and see how far I get. I may fall asleep if I get to comfortable - woke up at 1:55 this morning and could not get back to sleep no matter what.

An Elegy on the Death of a Mad Dog

Good people all, of every sort,
Give ear unto my song;
And if you find it wond'rous short,
It cannot hold you long.

In Islington there was a man,
Of whom the world might say,
That still a godly race he ran,
Whene'er he went to pray.

A kind and gentle heart he had,
To comfort friends and foes;
The naked every day he clad,
When he put on his clothes.

And in that town a dog was found,
As many dogs there be,
Both mongrel, puppy, whelp, and hound,
And curs of low degree.

This dog and man at first were friends;
But when a pique began,
The dog, to gain some private ends,
Went mad and bit the man.

Around from all the neighboring streets
The wond'ring neighbors ran,
And swore the dog had lost its wits,
To bite so good a man.

The wound it seem'd both sore and sad
To every Christian eye;
And while they swore the dog was mad,
They swore the man would die.

But soon a wonder came to light,
That showed the rogues they lied:
The man recover'd of the bite,
The dog it was that died.

Oliver Goldsmith
1730 - 1774

Well, we've had several lovely sunny days - very springlike except for the 1 degree nights! That's not a serious complaint though - sunshine makes Rupert one of the most gorgeous places on earth.

The Garden of Love

I went to the Garden of Love,
And saw what I never had seen:
A Chapel was built in the midst,
Where I used to play on the green.

And the gates of this Chapel were shut,
And "Thou shalt not" writ over the door;
So I turn'd to the Garden of Love
That so many sweet flowers bore;

And I saw it was filled with graves,
And tomb-stones where flowers should be;
And Priests in black gowns were walking their rounds,
And binding with briars my joys and desires.

William Blake
1757 - 1827

Well, the new tank is in and working properly, but the water is too hot! Garry will be back down again this weekend to finish some bits and pieces and he'll turn it down for me then.

My boss at Sisters is going away for 2 weeks, but it doesn't impact me too much. I will work my normal week days, this Saturday, which was mine anyway, and next Saturday, which would have been hers, and then she'll work 2 Saturdays in a row. With that and Easter being the 4th weekend in April, I'll have 3 weekends in a row free. HOORAY!!! I will use one of them to do my income tax. It's trickier this year because of all the medical stuff so it'll take me more than the couple of hours one evening.

For A' That and A' That

Is there for honest poverty
That hings his head, and a' that?
The coward slave, we pass him by;
We dare be poor for a' that!
For a' that, and a' that,
Our toils obscure, and a' that;
The rank is but the guinea's stamp--
The man's the gowd for a' that!

What tho' on hamely fare we dine,
Wear hodden gray, and a' that?
Gie fools their silks, and knaves their wine--
A man's a man for a' that!
For a' that, and a' that,
Their tinsel show, and a' that;
The honest man, though e'er sae poor,
Is king o' men, for a' that!

Ye see yon birkie, ca'd a lord,
Wha struts, an' stares, an' a' that--
Tho' hundreds worship at his word,
He's but a coof for a' that;
For a' that, and a' that,
His riband, star, and a' that;
The man of independent mind,
He looks an' laughs at a' that.

A prince can mak a belted knight,
A marquis, duke, and a' that;
But an honest man's aboon his might--
Gude faith, he mauna fa' that!
For a' that, and a' that,
Their dignities, an' a' that;
The pith o' sense, and pride o' worth,
Are higher rank than a' that.

Then let us pray that come it may,--
As come it will for a' that,--
That sense and worth, o'er a' the earth,
May bear the gree an' a' that.
For a' that, and a' that,
It's comin' yet, for a' that--
That man to man, the warld o'er,
Shall brithers be for a' that.

Robert Burns
1759 - 1796