We swing together you and I

in that old shaded place we love,

peaceful sweet smelling garden air

that gentle breeze that tickles hair,

the yellow Iris in our view,

Oh how I love to be with you!

Tranquil sounds of garden spirits

the chirping of the evensong thrush

lavender blue scent comes through,

we swing together like children do.

This quiet spot where we can dream

these special hours away,

amid the slowing of day ending

we talk of yesterday,

no more is needed for you and I

we know that time is short

and so we talk and dream and think

of what this life has brought.

We dream together

                                              you and I,

                                                                     on this old garden swing.

Photo: from “Hemingway”

All Rights Reserved.

She came rushing in, or though it seemed to me,

disbelief that this colourful Lady with her cloak of reds and golds had already arrived, when I glanced from my window.

I must have been looking the other way!

but then we don’t count the days pursuing more important matters now…

As the relentless stricken battle appears once more

on the horizon, had she come to distract my mind or bring colours to my heart?

This feckless stunning Lady who sheds her clothes

and scatters them where she will, like drops of tears in

a template of sadness perhaps?

A powerful change of authority as restless and now incipient to decay.

Old roses fade and fall like shattered fragments of glass from a precious mirror,

the hedgerows become bare, no  more luscious berries

but still holding onto their thin strips of  life.

Leaves, could they ever be more beautiful? 

turning to deep maroons and burnished, glinting,  jewelled colours.

Conkers appearing from their secret shells to fall in copper splendour from the impressive stately Horse Chestnut trees.   

We arrived, like we had  just opened our eyes.

Another Autumn! who would have believed we would

see this majestic Lady together, dumbstruck once more at her  beauty

but belligerently waging war on staying in our perfect peaceful Summer… 

not for us, the rushing of time…

@Copyright Susie Hemingway 2009

Photo at “Hemingway”

How beautiful this Summer day the colour of the flowers,

to match my mood, I’d like today,  rain and thunder all the way.

The snow and hail they could come, and even lightning too,

If I could take your pain away a hurricane would do.

How beautiful this Summer day, with not a cloud in sight

and there you are again in bed, putting up a fight.

The sun is blazing down the rays, and when you turn and smile,

I’ll keep you with me  and that gaze, and never miss the flowers

and if you think I love you less, I’ll long for summer showers.

How beautiful this Summer day the stillness of it all,

the sky is brilliant almost red!  you smile at me and rest your head.

So does it matter the flowers are out does it matter that their blue!

if I could take your pain away, then this is what I’ll do.

For then the rays, the lovely sun, the flowers each and everyone,

I’ll keep you and that lovely gaze then this will be my Summer day.

@ Copyright 2006

How glorious the gardens

each and and everyone,

how extravagant and bursting forth

with riot of perennial fun,

we wandered down the sunlit lanes

on this our lovely ‘open day’

the splendid evergreens and rose-beds  wide

to narrow scented lavender surprise,

walkways of the greenest hues

from red, to yellows and to blues,

the pinks so soft upon your eyes

geraniums  potted on one side.

Hellebores in groups of six

herbaceous borders in pretty mix,

cabbages, onions and chickens too!

fruits and herbs in stunning views

delphiniums lush in velvet blue

sturdy potatoes in their pots!

leeks , carrots and shallots.

Water features to cool and trickle

fish ponds, rock gardens and plants that tickle!

Many pots and nursery beds

perfumed scented that turn your head.

Arbour’s, enchanting ‘rose cascades’

Ah! what a wondrous pleasant day.

What a wondrous pleasant day…

All Rights Reserved @ June 2009

 

It was our village ‘open gardens’ day this Sunday, the morning dawned fair and after such preparation from the eleven sensational gardens that would be open to the public, we knew we were in for an exciting and enticing day. Abundant flower drenched bowers, roses dripping in splendour,  colourful arbour’s, covering walkways, plants of  such exotic delights, lawns manicured to perfection, handmade paths so clever in design.  All manner of interest and panoramic views to mesmerize, scents to please the senses and calm and serene borders and textures. Corners of interest and wonderful hidden places to sit and view awhile.  Vegetables crammed and laden, bursting full of goodness and showing skills of years of knowledge and precious tending. For many of the gardens with chickens, ducks and geese producing a self sufficiency with daily  eggs, crops of every vegetable,  fresh and packed full of glorious vitamins.  We feasted on wonderful fare on the stroll around the lanes of this enchanting village, stopping for a ploughman’s lunch with a selection of English cheeses and pickle and a cooling drink at the hottest part of the day. Then peeping into our little church to view the theme displays of flowers, some shown below.  On we went, with ice-cream in hand to end our very English day at the last garden for afternoon tea and delicious cakes and scones laden with strawberries and cream. My photos do not do justice to these wonderful gardens but perhaps will give you my reader a little idea of this heavenly day…

As most of my readers know, I am very fortunate to live in a lovely Wolds Village in Lincolnshire. Living in such a beautiful  place often  turns up rather special days. The views shown above are  from my windows which especially at this time of the year are magnificent. Always changing  like the seasons, the sheep arriving in the spring and then within a glance the spectacular Lincoln Red Cows have taken their place!  So the ‘pictures’  I see, often change by the hour. I do spend rather a lot of time looking at this  stunning change of scene. Then sometimes a little ‘extra gift’ is thrown into the melting pot of nature. Imagine my surprise when gazing with morning coffee in hand and there standing proudly in my garden was the  most exquisite Peacock. He stood surveying the scene seeming very tame.  Not wanting to frighten him I crept closer with camera in hand. He later accepted some bird seed and small nuts and enjoyed a chat staying for the day, sitting on my wall in the dark and then returning again for the next three days. I was sad to see him go but  Mr Peacock was last seen walking down the lanes of this very special Village What a  gift!

Although you’re down and feeling blue

a little bit dreamy not wanting to

talk or read,  I understand,

just love smiles will do…

I’ll wrap you soft as feather down,

and feed you from a silver spoon,

bewitch you with procured delights

just return those love smiles tonight.

I’ll fill the room with bergamot

and camouflage  your pain,

find the crystal glasses

and then I’ll pour champagne,

unstring my heart like oyster’s pearls

enthral at just one glance,

if you can muster just for me

a ‘love smile’ when I glance.

I’ll soften all those noisy vowels

when cooing gentle mantra,

and even toast some butter crumpets

or pick a  Shakespeare rose…

and as the peace from pain

like absolution comes,

as when the scent pungent and loved

reaches to your nose,

smile for me beloved one

those ‘love smiles’ that I know…

All Rights Reserved @ May 2009

www.myeloma.org.uk

My dear sister brought these beautiful roses as a gift at the weekend, how lovely they are and how they cheered and lifted our spirits. It has been rather a sad week in our little village, losing a much loved older village member. Arthur was in his eighties and had started work at the age of thirteen on the local farm – he was such an interesting and very knowledgeable man – often winning the first prize at the village vegetable show. He knew all there was to know about growing vegetables and was a fount of knowledge for us all. He answered all our gardening questions with such grace and clarity. He had not been  well in recent years but still managed to tend his plot and produce the best tasting and marvelously ‘giant’ marrows and onions amongst all other vegetables, that I have ever seen.  We will miss him at all the shows and when on our walks, seeing him with his cheery smile, sitting in his window, waiting with a  wave. Today we celebrated his life. The village church was full to bursting  as over two hundred people paid their respects to this much loved man. He never travelled far, once visiting Skegness  but didn’t like it much there, quickly returning  to his beloved village. Arthur was honoured with a medal from the Queen for forty years service to farming but carried on for many more years after that. He was laid to rest in the village churchyard with his family and many friends around him.  We will miss him so.

From my window across the fields, the leaves are nearly gone, it is chilly and  starting to look  somewhat bleak already. Still my little firs give some  colour to the view now that Winter approaches.

It is Remembrance Sunday tomorrow and our thoughts  return to those who gave their lives for us in the first and second World Wars. We also remember the brave men who have been lost, in the Falklands War,  in Iraq and Afghanistan.  In our little village, at the service tomorrow, we shall wear our poppies with pride as we remember these brave and courageous men

They shall not grow old, as we who are left grow old. Age shall  not weary them, nor the years condemn. At the going down of the sun We Will Remember Them…                                     

“As pears that do not ripen, affirmation takes it’s place, when Autumn leaves turn to gold, my mind trenchant and keen; I conquer many fearsome things, subdue and overcome, and as the mists arrive, how precious days become” …

Extract taken from the poem “Seasons Pass” by Susie Hemingway.

All Rights Reserved

  As there are so many Apples on the trees right now and many windfalls as well, I thought it was time for my chutney making to begin, storing some jars away for the winter season.  The following recipe has been devised by me and makes a very good  delicious tasting chutney that is very simple to make and lasts well.

~Major Moursi’s Chutney ~

Garden Apples (as many as you can peel, well at least 8 large ones )windfalls are good for chutney if not too damaged and a great way to use them.

Ingredients: 4 -5 large onions -   4-5 cloves of garlic – 2 tablespoons of good honey, 2 tablespoons  golden syrup – small cup of  soft brown sugar – at least 250 grams of  pitted prunes ( 500 grams  would be better) – cup of sultanas – 3 good teaspoons of  ‘Madras’ curry powder – 2 teaspoons of  all spice – 1 good dessert spoon of  Dijon mustard – good quality vinegar to cover.

Chop apples, onions and prunes to med size about 1″ ( not too tiny – not too big ) chop garlic. Place in a good solid saucepan . Add everything else and bring to gentle boil and stir. Then turn down to lowest heat and cook for at least 3 -4 hours stirring occasionally. When everything is soft and of a good dark rich colour, take from the heat and allow to cool.

When chutney is cool place in very clean sterilized jars pushing down to get rid of air spaces. Cover with greaseproof  paper lid pushed closely on chutney to get rid of any air bubbles then seal with screw lid.  Looks nice  to cover with pretty cotton lids made from scraps of  material.

Enjoy with any cold meats or chicken, curries or fabulous with cheese. This chutney last for ages and even better when cooked with love.

It has not been a very good summer  this year and yet these amazing village gardeners always managed to produce the most wonderful vegetables and should be so proud of themselves when collecting their various plaques and trophies.

It is such a nice social afternoon with tea and cakes or a glass of wine for those who choose.  Long may this wonderful show continue, I look forward to the 35th Flower and Vegetable show, in our really lovely little village.

On Saturday we were invited to a wonderful  50th birthday party for a friend who lives in the same village. It was so beautifully planned, I believe there was upwards of one hundred and thirty persons present, yet the organization was amazing.  A fantastic live band which always sets the scene  for me, was ensconced under a canopy,  and arriving to the gentle sounds of a saxophone was very pleasing. It was held in the extremely large rear garden  of a village house and there was something for everyone, the children had loads to do as there was a wonderful ‘Sumo ‘ wrestling’ game among many others.  The food was scrumptious, with a wonderful ‘hog-roast’ and some amazing desserts.  We chatted and danced to some wonderful old tunes and what a perfect evening it all was.