"To enable peace to cast its net around." You must have known when you wrote that, how perfect it was, Prue! I think that's just how your readers feel after spending some time here with you. I second what you say about clothes too. I've been trimming up my own closet and finding that I have no need of SO many things - even if some future version of myself has to impress (who, exactly?) there's no reason to hang on to so many work clothes. Even though I like the idea of dressing like a Bloomsbury-ite, in my life with Terrier feet, cat sick and scrabbling about in the garden/kitchen/basement it can never be realistic! But, red shoes? YES. I have just worn out my fav pair (and they are no longer avail in red, gasp!) so I am actually going to take a new pair in a beige colour (same style) to be professionally dyed next week at the cobbler, no less. Cherry Red sling-backs with (mature kitten) heels!!! Always a good thing xo
I LOVE that you want to gress Bloomsbury style and can just see Stanley hanging off either handkerchief hems or the wide legs of pleated pants. GREAT look, Sue.
Yes, red shoes! Wow, you have a cobbler who dyes for you? And how wonderful that he is CALLED a cobbler still. We have a delightful man whom I just call my shoe man but he doesn't dye things, sadly.
I've found the red shoes I want. Having problem feet I buy the same brand and style and the fact that they're machine washable is perfect. Made from plastic bottles and stretch to comfort. But like you (well, natch!) I have a love of slingbacks and have bookmarked some for when the weather warms.
This was a delight to read, just like a chat with a friend over a cuppa.
I don't get out much and i like it that way, until i'm asked what have i been doing? how do i spend my days? then i feel like a felon lining up for a mugshot, totally in the spotlight with nowhere to hide.
I loved the clip of the terrier with his toys, so much joy and happiness, what a delight until it's your hankie.
Kate, I lead such a routine-ised life. Most would find it boring but truly, there's so much in every day to be grateful for and when's all said and done, we do what we ant, what suits us and what presses our buttons, don't we?
Wonderful. For a little piece supposedly about nothing, I found so much to enjoy. My ‘silence’ is full of birdsong and chatter. The cockatoos, galahs and corellas, the currawongs and magpies, the starlings - so much noise amid the late afternoon sunshine. Life is wonderful. Happy, happy sigh. Take care dear Prue. (And perhaps buy a second ‘bell’ next time you’re in town. Protecting the bonsai AND growing beautiful daffodils sounds like the perfect solution to me.) Hugs and best wishes. 🤗🤗
Oh thank you, Beth! And yes, the second bell would be lovely. They told me the second one was sold, but when my husband and I walked past the shop the other night, it was in the window.
Isn't bird song just the most beautiful choir in the world? I love it.
I continue to be delighted and amazed with the community that has grown on Substack. Reading your musings every week along with the writings of the other Substackers from around the globe is much like meeting for brunch or afternoon tea with delightful friends. I love seeing the comments and supportive words from much loved writers that I follow in each others comment sections. You all are casting a net of peace and affection around the world. Many, many thanks...
What you say is much appreciated, Susan, and so affirming. It serves to remind us all that this world of ours can be a peaceful place despite it all.
The thing that never ceases to amaze me is the way kindred Substack readers and writers gravitate toward each other. It's like a flock of starlings flying disparately and then, like a murmuration, suddenly moving together. I always think the telepathy in those birds must be phenomenal. So it is with likeminded folk on Substack.
Your gardens and their ornaments and plants remind me of a favorite client's garden in Massachusetts. The wired dome shouted her name - I immediately thought, "She would LOVE this!"
I'm also a huge silence fan, a reason I love to swim and ride. Though they aren't silent activities, it's the solitude while engaging in them that I love. As far as dressing at this stage in my life, I've settled into only considering what I'm comfortable in, not what anyone might think of my clothes. It's freeing to be divested in someone's opinion (in that department).
Feel the contentment, Prue, of knowing that I always look forward to your posts. I see my them in my Inbox and always think, "I wonder what Prue's been up to, and how that pup is doing". I don't always have the chance to read them the same day they're posted. But I queue them up for when I can get to them, like today.
Pup is off for his final school class tomorrow and then we are debating if we will take him into more advanced training or just work one on one with his instructor on specific areas. It’s actually us who need the training, not the dog...
My answer to your question: Can one be an Uncarved Block in one’s seventies? Is a resounding yes. I love reading about our walks on the beach and the newest addition to your family.
Everything about this is comforting, Prue, and uplifting in its own way. I appreciate that you acknowledge the pressure on us writers to have "something to say" week after week. It reminds me of the pressure to keep the nourishment coming from my kitchen. As soon as one meal is done, I have to start thinking about the next. It's exhausting! And there's no take-out for weekly memoirists. I have no idea how those who post daily keep their sanity.
The video of the Pupsicle made me laugh out loud. He's so vigorous! I don't have a city place, but I do still have a job that requires me to dress appropriately from time to time (whatever that means). Fortunately, I work with farmers, so I have it easier than some.
The garden is magical, though I'm sorry it's tinged with a layer of sadness now. That photo of the worn sandstone rock is worth of a gallery. Yes! That's how I feel most days.
The Bennett/Buble video at the end was the perfect icing on this sweet treat of a post. Thank you for always showing up just the way you are.
Sometimes, I feel a kind of self-indulgence in writing for Substack. And I wonder at its value. It’s probably a driver for a future post, I think.
Pups had a quiet day travelling today, and when we returned home with him, he was fizzing like a shaken up bottle of champers! I had to charge along the beach with him and then play soccer with him to tire him out. Even now, I know he won’t settle until a long evening walk is done. The perils of being aged and owing a young dog!
There are many things in my life that remind me of the Late Terrier but I welcome the memories. They’re poignant but so warming. I honestly feel so lucky to have had him as my muse and soul mate for 13 years, pain notwithstanding.
PS: Meals! Hell on wheels! I’ve been the meal provider for 49 long years and am soooooo over it! Occasionally I’ll tell him to go and BBQ, or cook some fish, or make a mornay (his specialty) but it’s mostly me. That said - this time a year ago, he spent weeks looking after me so well - cooking, cleaning, laundry, ironing, dogwalking, chauffering. I mustn’t complain...
Reading from our coastal area here in the US I so love your depictions of life. I "found you" oddly enough through a comment you made on Susan Over 60s" blog and have enjoyed your musings and outlook ever since. Cats on my lap and salt in the air keep us company here. Joy.
We are all uncarved blocks, aren't we? Parts of all of us, at least, remain uncarved, unexplored; their potential never discovered. But that's the beauty of our existence, isn't it? Always something new to explore, a new movement in a different direction every day taking us to uncharted territory.
Thank you for the lovely share of the 'pocket handkerchief tree'! Never be without a hanky in your pocket - whether it's for spilt tea, spilt milk or spilt tears. Hugs! xxx
"To enable peace to cast its net around." You must have known when you wrote that, how perfect it was, Prue! I think that's just how your readers feel after spending some time here with you. I second what you say about clothes too. I've been trimming up my own closet and finding that I have no need of SO many things - even if some future version of myself has to impress (who, exactly?) there's no reason to hang on to so many work clothes. Even though I like the idea of dressing like a Bloomsbury-ite, in my life with Terrier feet, cat sick and scrabbling about in the garden/kitchen/basement it can never be realistic! But, red shoes? YES. I have just worn out my fav pair (and they are no longer avail in red, gasp!) so I am actually going to take a new pair in a beige colour (same style) to be professionally dyed next week at the cobbler, no less. Cherry Red sling-backs with (mature kitten) heels!!! Always a good thing xo
I LOVE that you want to gress Bloomsbury style and can just see Stanley hanging off either handkerchief hems or the wide legs of pleated pants. GREAT look, Sue.
Yes, red shoes! Wow, you have a cobbler who dyes for you? And how wonderful that he is CALLED a cobbler still. We have a delightful man whom I just call my shoe man but he doesn't dye things, sadly.
I've found the red shoes I want. Having problem feet I buy the same brand and style and the fact that they're machine washable is perfect. Made from plastic bottles and stretch to comfort. But like you (well, natch!) I have a love of slingbacks and have bookmarked some for when the weather warms.
XXXX
This was a delight to read, just like a chat with a friend over a cuppa.
I don't get out much and i like it that way, until i'm asked what have i been doing? how do i spend my days? then i feel like a felon lining up for a mugshot, totally in the spotlight with nowhere to hide.
I loved the clip of the terrier with his toys, so much joy and happiness, what a delight until it's your hankie.
have a great weekend
Kate, I lead such a routine-ised life. Most would find it boring but truly, there's so much in every day to be grateful for and when's all said and done, we do what we ant, what suits us and what presses our buttons, don't we?
Have a gentle weekend too. Cheers and best.
Wonderful. For a little piece supposedly about nothing, I found so much to enjoy. My ‘silence’ is full of birdsong and chatter. The cockatoos, galahs and corellas, the currawongs and magpies, the starlings - so much noise amid the late afternoon sunshine. Life is wonderful. Happy, happy sigh. Take care dear Prue. (And perhaps buy a second ‘bell’ next time you’re in town. Protecting the bonsai AND growing beautiful daffodils sounds like the perfect solution to me.) Hugs and best wishes. 🤗🤗
Oh thank you, Beth! And yes, the second bell would be lovely. They told me the second one was sold, but when my husband and I walked past the shop the other night, it was in the window.
Isn't bird song just the most beautiful choir in the world? I love it.
I continue to be delighted and amazed with the community that has grown on Substack. Reading your musings every week along with the writings of the other Substackers from around the globe is much like meeting for brunch or afternoon tea with delightful friends. I love seeing the comments and supportive words from much loved writers that I follow in each others comment sections. You all are casting a net of peace and affection around the world. Many, many thanks...
What you say is much appreciated, Susan, and so affirming. It serves to remind us all that this world of ours can be a peaceful place despite it all.
The thing that never ceases to amaze me is the way kindred Substack readers and writers gravitate toward each other. It's like a flock of starlings flying disparately and then, like a murmuration, suddenly moving together. I always think the telepathy in those birds must be phenomenal. So it is with likeminded folk on Substack.
I'm off to build a paper airplane....this week in the lightest of yellows...I enjoyed our musings, Prue. As always! J
Paper planes sound good!
I always look forward to your posts. For me they are about the ebb and flow of a life.
Thanks, Alice. I like that idea. In fact, it could be the way to describe the latest novel - 'the ebb and flow of... life...'
Have a lovely weekend.
Your gardens and their ornaments and plants remind me of a favorite client's garden in Massachusetts. The wired dome shouted her name - I immediately thought, "She would LOVE this!"
I'm also a huge silence fan, a reason I love to swim and ride. Though they aren't silent activities, it's the solitude while engaging in them that I love. As far as dressing at this stage in my life, I've settled into only considering what I'm comfortable in, not what anyone might think of my clothes. It's freeing to be divested in someone's opinion (in that department).
Feel the contentment, Prue, of knowing that I always look forward to your posts. I see my them in my Inbox and always think, "I wonder what Prue's been up to, and how that pup is doing". I don't always have the chance to read them the same day they're posted. But I queue them up for when I can get to them, like today.
Lovely warm feeling here, Mary. Thank you.
Pup is off for his final school class tomorrow and then we are debating if we will take him into more advanced training or just work one on one with his instructor on specific areas. It’s actually us who need the training, not the dog...
My answer to your question: Can one be an Uncarved Block in one’s seventies? Is a resounding yes. I love reading about our walks on the beach and the newest addition to your family.
Everything about this is comforting, Prue, and uplifting in its own way. I appreciate that you acknowledge the pressure on us writers to have "something to say" week after week. It reminds me of the pressure to keep the nourishment coming from my kitchen. As soon as one meal is done, I have to start thinking about the next. It's exhausting! And there's no take-out for weekly memoirists. I have no idea how those who post daily keep their sanity.
The video of the Pupsicle made me laugh out loud. He's so vigorous! I don't have a city place, but I do still have a job that requires me to dress appropriately from time to time (whatever that means). Fortunately, I work with farmers, so I have it easier than some.
The garden is magical, though I'm sorry it's tinged with a layer of sadness now. That photo of the worn sandstone rock is worth of a gallery. Yes! That's how I feel most days.
The Bennett/Buble video at the end was the perfect icing on this sweet treat of a post. Thank you for always showing up just the way you are.
Thank you, Elizabeth for your comments.
Sometimes, I feel a kind of self-indulgence in writing for Substack. And I wonder at its value. It’s probably a driver for a future post, I think.
Pups had a quiet day travelling today, and when we returned home with him, he was fizzing like a shaken up bottle of champers! I had to charge along the beach with him and then play soccer with him to tire him out. Even now, I know he won’t settle until a long evening walk is done. The perils of being aged and owing a young dog!
There are many things in my life that remind me of the Late Terrier but I welcome the memories. They’re poignant but so warming. I honestly feel so lucky to have had him as my muse and soul mate for 13 years, pain notwithstanding.
PS: Meals! Hell on wheels! I’ve been the meal provider for 49 long years and am soooooo over it! Occasionally I’ll tell him to go and BBQ, or cook some fish, or make a mornay (his specialty) but it’s mostly me. That said - this time a year ago, he spent weeks looking after me so well - cooking, cleaning, laundry, ironing, dogwalking, chauffering. I mustn’t complain...
Reading from our coastal area here in the US I so love your depictions of life. I "found you" oddly enough through a comment you made on Susan Over 60s" blog and have enjoyed your musings and outlook ever since. Cats on my lap and salt in the air keep us company here. Joy.
Sounds perfect, Carol and thank you so much for following.
I do love Susan’s style - she’s so quietly and sensibly elegant, isn’t she?
We are all uncarved blocks, aren't we? Parts of all of us, at least, remain uncarved, unexplored; their potential never discovered. But that's the beauty of our existence, isn't it? Always something new to explore, a new movement in a different direction every day taking us to uncharted territory.
Thank you for the lovely share of the 'pocket handkerchief tree'! Never be without a hanky in your pocket - whether it's for spilt tea, spilt milk or spilt tears. Hugs! xxx