A few choice pictures from the last week of 2013, on the last day of the year...
 | ||||||
The last of the very berry chocolates from the House of Chocolates sent to the family for Christmas from my sister in Oz. Thank you B! A sweet present indeed.
|
Tuesday, December 31, 2013
Last Hurrah
Sunday, December 29, 2013
This Blissful Break
In the aftermath of the Xmas storm
before the New Year is busily born -
unto resolution ruin
When even Time takes a break
to stretch out and be blameless;
unresolved and shameless
The streets sense it and slow,
the cars take their break
to know
What bliss it is to break
without braking,
to move without shaking,
to give without taking,
to live without faking
To bask, to the tender last, before
we begin again to be bitter
trying, as we will, to be better.
before the New Year is busily born -
unto resolution ruin
When even Time takes a break
to stretch out and be blameless;
unresolved and shameless
The streets sense it and slow,
the cars take their break
to know
What bliss it is to break
without braking,
to move without shaking,
to give without taking,
to live without faking
To bask, to the tender last, before
we begin again to be bitter
trying, as we will, to be better.
Tuesday, December 24, 2013
'Tis the Season
To hope -
We give as good as we get
And get as good as we give
To know that we are loved
And love, whatever we know
To forgive what we can
And fight fairly what we cannot
To have faith in truth
And trust in the universe
And give thanks;
For to give is sublime
We give as good as we get
And get as good as we give
To know that we are loved
And love, whatever we know
To forgive what we can
And fight fairly what we cannot
To have faith in truth
And trust in the universe
And give thanks;
For to give is sublime
Thursday, December 19, 2013
Son
No greater risk
No keener reward
No sweeter smile
No louder roar
No knowing less
No knowing more
No letting go
No going back to before...
Wednesday, December 18, 2013
A big man
What is it about Christmas...
that makes a girl think,
an eel slink,
a heart sink,
a dream shrink?
What is it about Christmas that makes -
a big man small,
a small man fall,
the old young and
the young old?
What is is about Christmas...?
Tuesday, December 17, 2013
The Years of the Cat
Every year is The Year of the Cat
sleep all day, snack, snack, snack...
Dawn begins with a weight on my hip, with a claw that clings if I dare to turn or to tip.
A meow at my door when I'm trying to write: 'Let me in! I'm lonely! What are you doing? I don't like liver's bite!'
Come evening she simply won't have Joyce's book, and Dickens' heavier works get that 'It's them or me' look.
Now I'm not a cat person as it goes, per se, nor a dog lover could I be called, by the way.
But this cat on my hip at dawn, dusk and doors
has a very firm grip, with four very firm paws
So I say once again because that's where I'm at:
every year is The Year of the Cat.
sleep all day, snack, snack, snack...
A meow at my door when I'm trying to write: 'Let me in! I'm lonely! What are you doing? I don't like liver's bite!'
Come evening she simply won't have Joyce's book, and Dickens' heavier works get that 'It's them or me' look.
Now I'm not a cat person as it goes, per se, nor a dog lover could I be called, by the way.
But this cat on my hip at dawn, dusk and doors
has a very firm grip, with four very firm paws
So I say once again because that's where I'm at:
every year is The Year of the Cat.
Monday, December 16, 2013
A Tree Transformed
Our Christmas tree before and after, plus a lone Kingfisher gift from the man of the house aptly poised to watch over the transformation. Let the magic and madness begin...!
Wednesday, December 11, 2013
Finished
Today I finished my book!
An ultimate draft, it's hard to say with art,
But to finish at least is a start...
I feel like I've swallowed a rare artefact
To wait and to worry for it to show up,
Not too sorry; intact.
I'll read it soon to a man in a room
For him to lend me his ears,
To proof and fine tune
But until then on the bright side I look
I've finished my book,
Not swallowed the hook
An ultimate draft, it's hard to say with art,
But to finish at least is a start...
I feel like I've swallowed a rare artefact
To wait and to worry for it to show up,
Not too sorry; intact.
I'll read it soon to a man in a room
For him to lend me his ears,
To proof and fine tune
But until then on the bright side I look
I've finished my book,
Not swallowed the hook
Colour me in
Never mind green is the word -- and I do like my blue -- but give me any colour on this grey spring day. Any and every colour of the rainbow, at least to the extent of our somewhat limited garden...
Our garden plus our neighbour's native Pohutukawa, a Bottle brush look-alike tree only bloodier. The hydrangea is a bit of a cheat, taken on a sunnier day.
And those outrageous indigo hydrangea petals positively crowding in for their photo to be taken.
And those interloping ants checking out our new rhododendron (just as well Google can spell), it's enough to make the dull day divine.
Have a colour-filled day, and best regards of the Southern-hemisphere season,
Sacha
Friday, December 6, 2013
Only Hate was happy
 |
Walk on in peace, Mandela |
A tear for Mandela today...
Power and peace he alone placated, the rarest of words - Mandela - as fated.
A line from Auden,
another rare word, from a poem for Freud, a curious bird:
'Only Hate was happy' he wrote
when Freud died
With Mandela, even Hate is denied.
Thursday, December 5, 2013
Green is the Word
Just add rain...
 |
| In storm: our native, storm-swept Totara with Liquid Amber in foreground |
 |
| A variety of spiky fronds lapping up the rain |
 |
| A self-sewn fern, rather better to behold in the flesh, I fear. |
Just a few of the greens in our garden this morning after two days of steady rain. Altogether the camera (and operator) doesn't do them justice, but you get the general idea, I hope.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)