With Valentines Day knocking at the front door, some thoughts on love – not necessarily number one on my personal list of attributes.
Attended the annual fundraiser for the local Museum over the weekend. It’s only a small set up with a passionate belief in preserving the area’s past and is almost completely run on the goodwill of volunteers: lots of farm machinery, military history, and the usual assortment of haberdashery are on display.
The local community theatre group performed Love Letters, after our Roast Lamb and Apple Crumble tea, which was cooked by Museum Members and served under the towering Eucalyptus Gums. Love Letters is a play by A. R. Gurney that was a finalist for the Pulitzer Prize for Drama. The play centers on two characters, Melissa Gardner and Andrew Makepeace Ladd 111 , and follows the power of love, through the point of a pen, over a period of some fifty years.
I’m no theatre critic but this was a community event in every sense of the word.
Sunday was designed for airconditioning. The experts had been tipping a week of 36 to 40 degree days, plus humidity. After venturing out early and spending some time in the garden, I made a mad dash to the Nursery where I discovered these Poppy Seeds for sale as a fundraiser for Legacy. No advertising, no fanfare whatsoever.
I love the Red Poppies and their symbolism is one that takes me back to places and events from before I was born. Anyway, I have to get back to the Nursery pretty damn quick as I’ve taken orders for another twenty odd seed packets. Everybody seems keen to plant them as a commemorative display to mark the end of WW1 one hundred years ago this coming November.
Today is even hotter, even stickier, and instead of mopping floors it’s a day for sitting quietly with a good book. I’ve returned to one I was gifted back in 1988 when my youngest daughter was born. It’s another that is well travelled and won’t be leaving my side.
Pictures In The Post is a book containing some of the illustrated cards that Sir Henry Thornhill, a distinguished soldier-administrator of the British Raj, sent to his two year old grandson, commencing from 1914. This tradition continued with each of his three grand daughters, though when the children reached 5 years of age he would write a message in capital letters, in addition to an illustration.
Not only are these letters to his kin nostalgic, but the book also outlines the life of a fine old gentleman from a long gone era.
Lurvvve is in the air, even at the office.
They say “Love makes the world go round”. Whatever it is you love, whoever it is you love, simply enjoy.
That’s my annual display of mush over and done with. I promise there will be no more till this time next year.
Brizzy Mays Books and Bruschetta 