Wherefore "Pinks"?

I love these hardy, kaleidoscopic, clove-fragrant flowers. They survive well for me in containers--in the ground, they tend to get crowded out after a season or two.

They are Dianthus, more commonly called pinks--though not from their color (they can be red or white too) but probably from their jagged edges--a look that was popular in fancy clothing during medieval times.

There seem to be countless varieties in various combinations of colors and jaggedness. They are sometimes called gilly flowers or sops in wine. One might become obsessed . . .

Wikipedia says:

The name Dianthus is from the Greek words Δῖος Dios ("of Zeus") and ἄνθος anthos ("flower"), and was cited by the Greek botanist Theophrastus.[3] The color pink may be named after the flower, coming from the frilled edge of the flowers: the verb "to pink" dates from the 14th century and means "to decorate with a perforated or punched pattern". As is also demonstrated by the name of "pinking shears", special scissors for cloth that create a zigzag or decorative edge that discourages fraying. Alternatively, "pink" may be derived from the Dutch "pinksteren" alluding to the season of flowering . "Pinksteren" means "Pentecost " in Dutch. Thus the colour may be named from the flower rather than the flower from the colour

Josie--In Her Own Words

The past two times Josie has stayed with me, she has produced what I call documents. Not my idea, she just set in to writing, calling out for help with spelling now and then.  I love that this is something she does on her own initiative and for fun. 

MY NAME IS JOSIE. I LIVE ON A FARM WITH MY MOM AND DAD AND A DOG. SHE IS CALLED OTTER. SHE IS CUTE. I LOVE HER. MY HOUSE IS BLUE AND IT IS NOT QUITE DONE YET.

WE HAVE COWS. TWO OF THEM ARE CALLED PENNY AND CHOCOLATE. MY FAVORITE COLOR IS PINK AND RAINBOW. 

MY FAVORITE THINGS ARE PLAYING WITH TOYS AND HELPING.

Thus endeth the first document, except for a note on the back AND MORE. 

John said the document sounds like the author's bio for her first book.

Two days later, she produced another document--again, not my idea but I helped with the spelling. (She confided that she was a little nervous about first grade because they would expect her to spell things like washing machine.)

I AM JOSIE. I LIVE IN A BLUE HOUSE. IT IS NOT DONE YET. I AM GOING TO THE DOCTOR LATER AT FOUR O'CLOCK. I AM NOT EXCITED. THE DOCTOR'S NAME IS DOCTOR TEMPLETON. THERE IS A NURSE. THIS IS MY YEARLY CHECKUP. I AM NOT SICK BUT I THINK I MIGHT BE GETTING A COLD BUT I WILL SEE.

 

An Unexpected Treat

It arrived in the mail some time back--a gift from Martin, my English blog/FB friend of many years. "I know how much you love the English countryside," he said. 

This a gem of nature/memoir writing--a love letter to the flora and fauna of the English countryside and a cry of alarm regarding the many thoughtless behaviors that threaten this ecosystem.

Nicola Chester has, like Thoreau at Walden, has travelled much in the landscape she calls home. She quotes the poet Patrick Kavanaugh: To know fully even one field or one land is a lifetime's experience.

I parceled out the reading of this book over weeks to better appreciate the beauty of the writing, the minutiae of her observations.

In search of spiritual healing after a miscarriage, she walks up a beloved hill near her home "to lie by myself in the chalk grass. There were lapwings. I was close enough to hear the creaking beat of their owl-like wings as they dived, tumbled, and called. The soaring 'pewit, wit, wit-eeze wit that followed was quite the loveliest, most joyful sound I could want to hear. Blue-black clouds dark as swallow wings gathered in piles above the wood. I lay back among the harebells, clustered bellflowers and the little purple hop-hearts of quaking grass, shifted to avoid a thistle and disappeared. I scrunched my eyes and mouth tight as a harvestman spider ran over my face. Burnet moths collided with tiny grizzled skippers in the air above me. A buzzard mewed. Out here, at this moment, nature decides what happens. Everything connects and has its place, its lifespan, its small death; every thistle its bee."

Highly recommended.

 

Hosta Blooms

 

Josie and the Real Beauty and the Beast

I went to theater camp last week! It was in Burnsville and on Friday we did a performance of Beauty and the Beast at the Parkway Playhouse. I was Fancy Girl Number Seven, and my best friend Scarlett was Fancy Girl Number Eight, so we sat next to each other on stage. I had lines to say--it was part of the narration. I said "There was a talking wardrobe, clock, candle, feather duster, and a tea pot." I did not forget my lines even though I was a little nervous. I also knew Scarlett's lines--"There was even a barking footstool!"

It was a lot of fun and I hope I do it again next year.

Meema had a bad headache that day and she could not come to the performance. But I went to see her Saturday afternoon and she asked me to tell her all about it. So, I did, and I drew picture to go with the story.

This first picture is Belle. She is the Beauty. She is on a path near her house. Meema asked if there was a castle and I said No, this is in the village.

                                                   

In this scene, Gaston, who is the bad guy, sees Belle and wants to marry her. Gaston has a friend named Le Fou. Le Fou looks a lot like Gaston but is very short.

Meema asked if Belle was afraid of Gaston and I said No. Then I showed Meema how Belle looked when Gaston was talking to her. At the end, Gaston gets locked away in a cell.

Then there is a scene with an old woman who is an enchantress. She gives the Prince a Rose and turns him into the Beast and puts a curse on everyone in the castle that turns them into living objects--like the Barking Footstool. I did not draw this scene because I was already getting tired of drawing.

Meema kept asking me to draw the Beast, but I told her NOT YET. This is Belle's house and her father whose name is Maurice and his horse named Felipe. Maurice's hair is gray like Meema's and he had a mustache like Grumpy. He also has a green vest.

This is the Beast's castle. Over there is Felipe, peeking at the castle. And Maurice's foot is there too. He is also looking at the castle. The tree is there because Meema said I needed something in the empty space.

I was going to do some of the living objects next but I needed a break, so I just told Meema more of the story without drawing it.

This is what happens. Maurice goes to the castle and finds the Living Objects. The candle shows him to a chair by the fire, but the clock says it's a bad idea--what if the Beast finds out? And the Beast does find out and he locks Maurice up in a small cell. Felipe the horse runs off to find Belle.

Bella and Felipe rush back to the castle and Belle offers to take her father's place in the cell. Her father says it's a bad idea, but Belle isn't listening.

The Beast shows Belle everything in the castle and says she can go anywhere she wants except for the secret staircase that leads to the rose. Remember the rose? 

Belle loves books and the candle tells her there is a great library up the secret staircase. She goes up it and finds the rose and the Beast finds her and he roars a loud scary ROAR!

She runs down the staircase to her bedroom and starts to cry. Then she finds the talking wardrobe and the teapot and a teacup named Chip. They give her tea and invite her to go to dinner that night.

When she walks into the dining room, all the Living Objects sing a song called Be My Guest.  She eats her dinner and is quite tired and she goes back to her bedroom and falls asleep. A noise wakes her. Something is knocking at her door! It is the Beast and he asks her to take a walk outside.

Meema interrupts me and says Was all of this in the performance last night? NO, I tell her. This is the Real Beauty and the Beast from the Disney movie. Our performance was mostly a bunch of songs from the movie and some narration. 

Meema has been writing down every word I say, and her fingers are tired and so am I. So we take a break. You probably know how the story ends anyway. 

                                                                                      

Also we made pumpkin bread.

Sunday Flowers

                                                                                   

 

Still Learning . . .

Not upside down--drooping. 

 

Drunk As a. . . Bee?

On the porch yesterday morning, I discovered a bumble bee struggling in a half-finished glass of Scotch from John's pre-dinner sup. I poured it out onto the railing, wondering what a drunken bee would look like.

He appeared . . . well, thoughtful and disinclined to make any sudden moves.

Actually, he seemed to be still sipping from the puddle he was in, so I shoved him to dry land where he continued his meditations. 

I know that bees have been known to get drunk on fermented fruit--I wonder how Scotch compares. We learned long ago that wine attracts yellow jackets--my sister-in-law inadvertently sipped one and was promptly stung on the lips, which swelled till she looked a bit like Daisy Duck. (Good times, huh, Fay?) 

Later in the day when I went to see how the bee was doing, it had evidently staggered off the railing and landed on the step below. It could crawl but wasn't making any attempt to fly.

 Probably just as well.

                                                

 

The Great Wheel Turns and It's Summer Sosltice

 Summer--when I was young it meant long, lazy days in my outdoor hideout, reading books from the end- of-school book fair. Later it was trips to the swimming pool and the smell of suntan lotion and chlorine, the jangle of my friend's transistor radio.  A cherished week or sometimes two at the beach was always the highlight of summer days, when we could fall asleep to the lullaby of the waves.

Summer on the farm was always a sweaty labor of love--keeping up with the garden and dealing with its produce--canning, blanching, freezing.

Nowadays my summer is more leisurely--some Josie duty, to be sure, but chiefly I'm focused on the Zen rules for a happy life.

Brew the tea correctly.

See that the house is warm in winter and cool in summer.

And really, it's enough.

Looking East

It's been hazy for several days, so hazy that we can't see the Blue Ridge in the distance. I believe it's smoke dispersed from the Canadian fires, but it's not been smoky smelling or particularly eye irritating.

Then we had a good, air-cleansing rain and the far mountains were back!

A few hours of sunshine and then the evening mists rolled in. There was rain in the offing--and a bit of a rainbow.

We are so fortunate to have rain--and, at the moment, rather cool weather. It's the sort of weather we moved here for, to escape Florida's heat and to be able to send postcards south in June, saying, Sleeping under blankets!

 

Josie Went to Nature Camp

I love this sign because I love this place! I was at day camp all last week and learned new stuff and made new friends. We played in the forest and did things with Water and Fire and Earth. (Earth was my favorite. Water was not.)

Camp did not start till 9 so every morning I came up before 8 and Meema made pancakes and then took me to camp. It is not very far away. I had a backpack with my lunch and water and a change of clothes and some other stuff.

Even the teachers had backpacks because it in not like regular school where you put your stuff in a cubby and stay in a classroom. At nature camp, we went All Over the place--even in the garden where we harvested some broccoli and kale.

This is the big barn where we met in the morning. There are picnic tables for having lunch.

Meema could only take pictures from her car when she dropped me off or picked me up. She could not get out because there were a lot of cars lined up. And she had to leave as soon as I got out or got in.  Oh, well, she said. 

Those are some of the cars in line.

Here is another place where kids can meet.

And this is the clay pot I made on Earth day. I think it is very good.

Camp was over every day at 3 and Meema picked me up. We went and got ice cream cones on the first day and the last. Then we came home and played the Ladybug game. I won every time but one. Then we read library books. Meema and I take turns reading. We are reading about Snail and Worm, two funny friends and we do their voices. Snail has a little high voice but Worm does not. My favorite story is when Snail finds a penny and thinks it is a mirror! He thinks he looks like Abraham Lincoln!

We also did a game with some cards where you have to find out things like how many cents do you have if you have a dime and a quarter and a nickel and two pennies. (42 is the answer.) Sometimes I count on my fingers.

And of course I did some painting. I got this idea from a kid at camp.

Can you guess what it is? First I painted two slanty red eyes and then I made a black circle all around.

Have you guessed?

It is a scary monster in a dark cave!