AN EARLY MEMORY ABOUT THE COLOUR RED THE FRIDAY BLOG

AN EARLY MEMORY ABOUT THE COLOUR RED

Red always plays a part of our life’s with its power and energy to keep a memory alive even if it is rather a small moment in my life.

As you opened the front door into my childhood home the wonderful red carpet runner caught your eye. The red paisley patterned Turkish carpet. It went from the front door all door almost to the kitchen door at the end of the hall.

I loved it. and was fascinated by its magical intricate paisley pattern a tear-drop shaped motif with a curved upper end. The same amazing carpet was used on the Stairs going up to the bedrooms My mother had on the top of this carpet a white cotton runner, both were held in place with wooden stair rods

For the size of the three bedroom family home, there were rather a lot of people living there. Myself, mother and father, my grown-up sister and her little boy, her husband when on leave and two boarders. Yes, a great many pairs of feet. No shoes were worn inside and would you believe one had to take your slippers off to go up and down the stairs. The white cloth had to be kept clean and smooth for as long as possible. What my mother called “being house proud” I can see clearly was a problem with being obsessive about keeping the house ultra clean and tidy at all times.

If I sit quietly even now so very many years later I can see myself as a small child playing a game on those pristine looking stairs. I would try to get up or down on the very edge of the treads where you put your foot as you used the stairs. It was so much easier going up and I often got to the very top. Of course, coming down was harder, I’m sure I would have fallen many times if I hadn’t been hanging onto the bannister with all my might.

Before the Dawn CHRONICLES FROM THE DARKENED PATHWAYS A travel log of the soul

Before the Dawn

Descending into the twilight

Walking on through the starless night

While sunlight fades rear of memory

An outer, beyond the rim of consciousness

Truly the coldest point

Meets just before the dawn

Where frozen, fingers the bone

As we now edge from rising twilight

Breaching into dawn’s delivering promise

Of warm radiance, streaming from the soul

Copyright ©

Robbie Grace / Clive Robert Grace

RED FLOWERS ON BLACK THE FRIDAY BLOG

RED FLOWERS ON BLACK

Yes, he was rather tall, very handsome indeed and had a most beautiful voice. He worked for the diplomatic wireless service at Bletchley Park. So he really was a little out of my league to start with. We dated a few times, the cinema and quiet drinks at a country pub on a Sunday evening.

He had invited me to a Guy Fawkes party at the home of a friend of his. I got ready and was well wrapped up for the chilly evening. But he didn’t arrive to pick me up. I had been stood up. He didn’t come into my place of work or phone or even write a note.

It was several years later that I saw him again at a restaurant in Bedford. As I passed his table he stood up and just said “hello Loraine” I can be honest all these many years later my heart did miss a beat and it was a very nice feeling. We did the usual talk, how are you? you’re looking very well etc. Then to my surprise, he said he was sorry and that he sometimes thought about me, you always looked so lovely in that black dress with the red flowers. The dress was a shirtwaist style with a stand-up collar three quarter length sleeves and a semi-full skirt much loved but long gone, but not forgotten by then. But I have always remembered his words with a soft smile.

I never saw another dress like that one. But I have found myself over the years with so many scarves that have red flowers or patterns on a black background.

WHISPERING WISTERIA FRIDAY BLOG PAGE

WHISPERING WISTERIA

A dear friend of our family commissioned a piece of Serendipity Grace’s beautiful artisan jewellery after seeing a piece of work that my daughter had made for me last year. Serendipity was delighted, her first commission and from her home town too.

A very rough outline of colours was given “maybe blue and green” was all she had said.

In due time the gift arrived and there was great excitement as phone calls were made and a time to come and pick up the jewellery was made. It was so lovely to see the wonderful smile on the face as the friend unpacked the small package. And was I ever the very proud mother to see such exquisite workmanship.

WHISPERING WISTERIA

Bare copper wire woven with tiny glass seed beads, and blue sea sediment stone

The wisteria has been known to live up to 100 years and beyond, It’s long life bestows the symbolic meaning of immortality, wisdom and longevity. With it’s beautiful and elegant draping vibrant blossoms, there is a great sense of harmony and peace within.

Wisterias can teach us to make gentle but determined pursuits, many great things take time but are worth the effort, hard time must be endured in order to reach the beautiful ones.

Its magical associations include psychic development, wisdom and meditation, love, prosperity and healing from grief, and beauty that increases with age, divine blessings, comfort, softness, soothing and a feeling of stress relief.

Wisteria blossoms come in a huge variety of delightful colours, ranging from white, pale pink, pale blue, deep violet to double violet. Whichever colour you are drawn to, clusters of delicate blossom will waterfall down the vines in a spectacular show of great beauty.

Wisteria blossoms come in a huge variety of delightful colours, ranging from white, pale pink, pale blue, deep violet to double violet. Whichever colour you are drawn to, clusters of delicate blossom will waterfall down the vines in a spectacular show of great beauty.

ST DAVID’S DAY THE FRIDAY BLOG PAGE

ST DAVID’S DAY

As I thought about making Welsh cakes for St David’s Day on the first of March, my thoughts wandered to my mother who, unlike me, made these delicious little cakes very often indeed. In fact, I have often wondered what she would think of my Welsh cakes. Although my mother was an invalid, having contracted Polio as a small child, she managed the running of the house wonderfully well. She never let her disability stop her doing anything at home. There was no wheelchair; every step taken was one at a time with the help of her crutches when I was very small and later, after many rounds of surgery, a calliper and walking stick. But my goodness she could move around with great dexterity. One of my favourite memories is of her putting away the ironing on a pulley maid, standing on a wooden chair in the kitchen while I handed the clothes up to her so that they were aired before being put away. Another is of her baking. She would do this once a week. I loved those days as I came into the house from school with the smell of what she would have made filling the house. After washing my hands I was allowed to get a plate from the dresser and choose two of anything that was laid out on the kitchen table. What a dilemma? A jam tart or a Welsh cake and a piece of the cake she always cooked in a large meat tin called Teisen lap. Or one of those little coconut cakes. It was wise not to take too long to choose or my mother would make the choice for you. She had a wonderful contralto voice and was always singing, mostly hymns sung in Welsh, or songs we heard on the wireless. She had been brought up in a small town in South Wales and the Chapel and its choir had played a huge part in her life growing up. She also had a great belief in cleanliness keeping one closer to God. And she had an almost obsessive need to have everything clean and in its place at all times. I think she really believed that no one should enjoy the day until her idea of having every job in the house was done. As I grew older, I used to think that she had to keep finding stuff for me to do, so there was little time for playing. I learnt to do my best and get the job, whatever it was, done right, the first time.