Philosophy and the Soul, a good choice!

Si vis studere philosophiae animoque, hoc studium non potest valere sine frugalitate. Haec frugalitas est paupertas voluntaria. Tolle, igitur, istas excusationes: "Nondum satis pecuniae habeo. Si quando illud 'satis' habebo, tum me totum philosophiae dabo." Incipe nunc philosophiae, non pecuniae, studere. Seneca, Epistulae 17:5

If you wish to devote yourself to philosophy and to the soul, this pursuit is not able to be strong without frugality. This frugality is voluntary poverty. Therefore, take away those excuses of yours: "I don't yet have enough money. If ever I shall have that 'enough', then I shall give my entire self to philosophy." Begin now, to devote yourself to philosophy, not to money.

Good advice! When philosophical thinking becomes passion, then finances will fall into the correct perspective!

Remembrance Day

A friend from Canada gave me a poppy on Sunday. My sister forwarded a pictoral message entitled "Lest We Forget". I am awed at the courage of these brave, patriotic soldiers, whose choice to go isn't an option, but a life's drive, a must go. No greater love be known, but the love that lays down his own life for another's sake. I remember a few here: Uncle Richard, Richard Madden, Jesse Strong, Helen's son, Tim's friends...and I'll remember the fields in France, to which poppies return each year to remember the blood that was spilled...so many to thank, to honour.

Teddy Bear's Picnic

If you go out on the lawn tonight
You'd better go in disguise!
If you go out on the lawn tonight
You'll never believe your eyes.
For Bruno Bear, as bold as you please,
Will come and dine, way down on his knees
On sunflower hearts I hung in the sun for birdies!

A Gaggle of Geese

It happens every year round about this time, when one goose says to another goose,"Gaggle, gaggle, gaggle!" And then that goose turns to his nieghbour and almost repeats what he just heard, "Goggle, gaggle, goggle", who honks to his friend, "Gotta goand google", who, honking sweet nothings into the ear of his fiance, includes "Gotta, getta, going!!" It's the old Norman Rockwell thing all over again. Nobody really listens, but in this case, the geese somehow get it right, because as everybody knows "Gaggle, gaggle, gaggle" means "Come on, you lot, it's time to fly south again! Pack your bags and line up straight!! And don't forget your goggles!" And off they go gaggling, goggling and giggling all the way, flying low over the house to make sure I come running out to wave them off, and in the waving, feeling just a little part of me leaving with them, and knowing that if I don't warn them about Chesapeake Bay, they won't beware...Have a good flight, a warm winter, and we'll see you in the Spring...so long, farewell, auf wiedersehn, adieu! And off they go, ribboning their way across the autumn skies to warmer climes, that tiny part of me trailing behind...wait for me...

The Malta-Weave Knitting Bag

Today I found my Mummy's bag
The Malta-Weave striped knitting bag.
It used to hang right by her chair,
Her comfy, sagey fire-side chair.
She bought the bag when I was new
And she not more than thirty two.
It used to house her knitting things
Her needles, patterns, wools and pins,
With which she'd knit such lovely things
For tiny maidens, tiny kings!
It's nice to know that I love too
The art of knitting that she once knew.
It's nice to know that in that bag
Lie memories that never lag
When brought to mind, when stirred anew,
Of island warmth, of childhood muse.
I'd like to think she sees me now,
As I knit and click and hum and how
In this little bag I find such joy
As I knit for our little girl or boy!

Take Me Down To The Sea Again...Again

Have just been remembering some fine memories of Boothbay Harbour, Maine, especially when we first arrived. We had to finish off the school year at home, which I thoroughly enjoyed. We would do our scholastic studies in the morning, and then in the afternoon we'd often go to the beach for our 'Marine Research Unit'! There was a terrific Aquarium nearby which had an amazing educational program for the children, and we had a few friends who worked there, so we had great opportunity to have many guided tours around the place. I was particularly remembering the enormous blue lobster who lived there. He was so.o old! And the cool rock pool, which housed horse-shoe crabs and one of our favourites...the sea cucumber, which never ceased to entertain us by squirting us! Every time! We spent hours and hours down on the beach at Hendick's Head on Southport Island, where we'd find no end of shells and crabs and star fish. At low tide, a group of rocks were left high and dry on the sand, the tallest of these, the girls christened 'Commercial Rock'. I'm not sure that I can remember why! I think they used to play a game that Soe called 'Let's 'tend!' There was always a part for everyone in this 'tending game, and I expect they used to make commercials on Commercial Rock. Telling stories, pretending, collecting treasures...of course, the whole setting was made that more exciting by the fact that the Wicked Witch of the West from the movie 'The Wizard of Oz' had a house just there, down the bay on the rocks, and that certainly added a spicy seasoning! However, if you spent too much time pretending and making commercials, you'd have to swim back to shore, because the tide was tricky, and would rush back in, surrounding all the rocks, before you had time to say 'Shiver Me Timbers!!'
Hannah and Emi were part of the Dolphin Swim Team, which met at 4 pm every afternoon at the 'Y'. Any kid that could swim from one end of the pool to the other could be a part, and they were thrilled and proud to be able to wear those red hooded sweat-shirts with the dolphin on the back. A team to be reckoned with were those Boothbay Dolphins!
On the beach, down by the sea, the whole ebb and flow of it all...a great place to be a child...even when you're old...a great place to be a child!

Woodland Walk

Today, I wore my Mama's hat,

Her bright autumnal titfer (tat).

We walked among the ferns all drippy,

We walked the old familiar way,

Down to the river, down to the pond,

Down by the way of the loon's clear song.

An acorn at my feet I found,

Then lichen, moss and bark and flower,

And soon my arms were full of fall

Of dripping earth and autumn's call.

So homeward bound with all we'd found,

To share with friends

And nourish all!