From Let Me Be a Woman by Elisabeth Elliot, p. 31
"....a stage [of life] is a gift. God may replace it with another gift, but the receivor accepts His gifts with thanksgiving. This gift for this day. The life of faith is lived one day at a time, and it has to be lived - not always looked forward to as though the 'real' living were around the corner. It is today for which we are responsible. God still owns tomorrow".
Showing posts with label Domestic Reading. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Domestic Reading. Show all posts
Tuesday, February 22, 2011
Sunday, December 9, 2007
All Passion Spent
I have finished reading All Passion Spent by Vita Sackville-West. I don't want to say too much here as I am keen to join in the discussion over on Cornflower on the 15th of December. The book is wonderful and I would encourage anyone who hasn't read it to scout out a copy. The plot is basic - 90 year old Lady Slane's husband dies and, for the first time in her life she decides to do exactly what she wants to do, and retires to a tiny house in Hampstead. She is surrounded by a cast of wonderful characters: her bossy and disaproving offspring, her French maid (Genoux), her landlord (Bucktrout) and an eccentric millionaire who loved her when she was young (Mr FitzGeorge). Oh, but the writing is beautiful and Sackville-West captures human frailty so well. One passage that appealed to me (probably because I often find myself in precisely this situation at work):
She had always taken an enormous amount of trouble to disguise her ignorance from Henry. In the end she had learnt to succeed quite well, and he would disburdern himself of his political perplexities wiithout the slightest suspicion that his wife had long since lost the basis of his argument. She was secretly and bitterly ashamed of her insufficiency. But what was to be done about it? She could not, no, she simply could not, remember why Mr. Asquith disliked Mr. Lloyd George, or what exactly were the aims of Labour, that new and alarming Party. The most that she could do was to conceal her ignorance, while she scrambled round frenziedly in her brain for some recollected scrap of associated information that would enable her to make some adequate reply.
I also did some cooking during the week. I made MommyCoddle's granola recipe. The second time I have done so. It is just delicious. I like having it with greek yoghurt and fresh berries. It makes a great start to the day.
As I mentioned in my last post, we have decorated the house for Christmas. I thought I would share a picture of our Christmas tree.
And, because we finally got a picture of our dogs TOGETHER (very difficult) I will share that too. Abby is the one on my lap and Monty is seated in front - looking a little stunned!
Well, I am off to have lunch and then indulge in a lazy afternoon with my latest read Debs at War by Anne De Courcy. I am about half way through and it is brilliant (my kind of history book). But, more on that later.
She had always taken an enormous amount of trouble to disguise her ignorance from Henry. In the end she had learnt to succeed quite well, and he would disburdern himself of his political perplexities wiithout the slightest suspicion that his wife had long since lost the basis of his argument. She was secretly and bitterly ashamed of her insufficiency. But what was to be done about it? She could not, no, she simply could not, remember why Mr. Asquith disliked Mr. Lloyd George, or what exactly were the aims of Labour, that new and alarming Party. The most that she could do was to conceal her ignorance, while she scrambled round frenziedly in her brain for some recollected scrap of associated information that would enable her to make some adequate reply.
I also did some cooking during the week. I made MommyCoddle's granola recipe. The second time I have done so. It is just delicious. I like having it with greek yoghurt and fresh berries. It makes a great start to the day.
As I mentioned in my last post, we have decorated the house for Christmas. I thought I would share a picture of our Christmas tree.
And, because we finally got a picture of our dogs TOGETHER (very difficult) I will share that too. Abby is the one on my lap and Monty is seated in front - looking a little stunned!
Well, I am off to have lunch and then indulge in a lazy afternoon with my latest read Debs at War by Anne De Courcy. I am about half way through and it is brilliant (my kind of history book). But, more on that later.
Friday, November 16, 2007
The Gentle Art of Domesticity
I placed my first Book Depository order last week. I must say I have been very impressed with them. Not only are the books cheaper than here (even after converting from British Pounds to Australian Dollars), but the order arrived extremely promptly. I did receive one quite damaged book but their customer service department has been excellent and they have committed to sending me a fresh copy.
One of the books I ordered was The Gentle Art of Domesticity by Jane Brockett. I visit Jane’s blog regularly and had to dive straight in when this arrived. Never mind, that I was halfway through The Short Life and Long Times of Mrs Beeton! Jane delights in the joy that the pursuit of the ‘gentle arts’ can bring. Now, I am not that crafty. I love looking at what other people create and am sorely tempted to have a go myself but my perfectionist streak holds me back; I am too concerned that I will make a mistake and my project won’t turn out to my satisfaction (the same reason I find it hard to keep a written journal). But Jane shows in her book that we all have abilities in this area and that the joy is in the process of creation and not necessarily the outcome. I have been inspired; now I have conquered how to thread my sewing machine next stop is a quilt! I should also like to regain my knitting skills. Not that there are many skills to regain as I have only ever known how to plain and purl, but one has to start somewhere. I did quite a bit of knitting when I did a study abroad in the US – the Chaplain ran a program called Craftwork / Soulwork which I attended. My Nanna was the one who taught me to knit as I patiently plain stitched a jumper for my Teddy when I was nine – and then promptly gave the art-form up!
One of the books I ordered was The Gentle Art of Domesticity by Jane Brockett. I visit Jane’s blog regularly and had to dive straight in when this arrived. Never mind, that I was halfway through The Short Life and Long Times of Mrs Beeton! Jane delights in the joy that the pursuit of the ‘gentle arts’ can bring. Now, I am not that crafty. I love looking at what other people create and am sorely tempted to have a go myself but my perfectionist streak holds me back; I am too concerned that I will make a mistake and my project won’t turn out to my satisfaction (the same reason I find it hard to keep a written journal). But Jane shows in her book that we all have abilities in this area and that the joy is in the process of creation and not necessarily the outcome. I have been inspired; now I have conquered how to thread my sewing machine next stop is a quilt! I should also like to regain my knitting skills. Not that there are many skills to regain as I have only ever known how to plain and purl, but one has to start somewhere. I did quite a bit of knitting when I did a study abroad in the US – the Chaplain ran a program called Craftwork / Soulwork which I attended. My Nanna was the one who taught me to knit as I patiently plain stitched a jumper for my Teddy when I was nine – and then promptly gave the art-form up! Before you leave this blog thinking that Jane’s book is solely about craft, I must point that she addresses the domestic arts in all their forms - baking, gardening and decorating. She draws on films, poetry, domestic novels, and artwork to support her beautiful prose. Oh, and the pictures are just delightful. They are so vibrant and full of colour that I want to step into them. I really loved this book and was sad to finish it. I am sure it will be coming off the shelf on a regular basis to give me joy, comfort and inspiration, and add a splash of colour to my life! And now, I am off to put some of those domestic skills into practice sewing black sequins on to a white tutu.
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