Hello Kitten

Gopher · Apr 28 06 12:06

kitten wrote:
You are adventurous, aren't you. You swim well, I suppose? Have fun out there.Unbrellas have already been packed for the rain that's sure to fall during the barbecue.

kitten · Apr 28 06 12:46

Gopher wrote:
Unbrellas have already been packed for the rain that's sure to fall during the barbecue.

One never knows, but that's usually what happens. You also should take snowshoes, gloves, tanning lotion and mosquito repellent!

Gopher · Apr 30 06 12:01

A windbreak, gloves, scarf, warmest winter gear and a pair of sunglasses were all that were needed: it was bitterly cold, very windy and very sunny.

As luck would have it the boat was moored overnight by 'much-pied' field of cows.

kitten · Apr 30 06 02:06

Gopher wrote:
A windbreak, gloves, scarf, warmest winter gear and a pair of sunglasses were all that were needed: it was bitterly cold, very windy and very sunny.

As luck would have it the boat was moored overnight by 'much-pied' field of cows.

It's good to see that you're back without mishap. So you didn't need scuba gear after all! It must have been lovely making your way to the boat, though. Cows seem to have rather a bizarre impact on your life.

Gopher · May 01 06 11:26

Oh yes, the journey itself was terrific - especially interesting was to travel through countryside where the land was at a lower level than the rivers. However the 'cabin' left a lot to be desired, the first time in my life that cold has prevented sleep.

As for cows playing a great part in my life, they don't really - only of late. However I DO love their eyes, their long-lashes, their gentleness- and always find them worthy of a word or two.

kitten · May 01 06 12:03

Gopher wrote:
Oh yes, the journey itself was terrific - especially interesting was to travel through countryside where the land was at a lower level than the rivers. However the 'cabin' left a lot to be desired, the first time in my life that cold has prevented sleep.

I once lived in an apartment like that when there were very few vacancies that I could afford. It was a basement, and the wind actually whistled through the walls. Sometimes the snow blew through the walls too!! I've never been happy about moving, but in that case I made an exception.

As for cows playing a great part in my life, they don't really - only of late. However I DO love their eyes, their long-lashes, their gentleness- and always find them worthy of a word or two.

Cows are beautiful beasts with soulful eyes, but I do draw the line at the kitchen. In my childhood on my grandparent's farm I had the task of taking the herd to the field in the morning and returning them to the barn at night. I loved it.

Gopher · May 01 06 12:06

Oh yes, childhood. Wasn't it a beautiful time? (And I don't care if now I'm only seeing it through rose-tinted glasses, as far as I'm concerned it will always be hot haymaking summer days and mild and misty mornings).

kitten · May 01 06 12:10

Gopher wrote:
Oh yes, childhood. Wasn't it a beautiful time? (And I don't care if now I'm only seeing it through rose-tinted glasses, as far as I'm concerned it will always be hot haymaking summer days and mild and misty mornings).

Remember running through the grass in bare feet? I also loved playing with the farm animals and picking fruit off the trees. Didn't care for the spider-infested outhouse though!

Gopher · May 01 06 12:13

Those outhouses were often stores of the most wonderful treasure - I have various 'finds' even to this day (needless to say they're most precious possessions i.e. they were bought with love, not money).

Oh yes, and buttercups under your chin...

kitten · May 01 06 12:24

Fresh milk and freshly churned butter. Yummy! And newly-picked blueberries were a treat. It was one for me and one for the pail until I was too full to think of lunch.

Gopher · May 01 06 12:26

Yes, yes, yes and did you ever try drinking the nectar out of the red clover?

kitten · May 01 06 12:33

Of course I did. I also stole gooseberries from my grandmother's prized bush that was reserved exclusively for her consumption. I also sneaked extra food for the chickens when nobody was looking, just so I could watch them peck at it.

Gopher · May 02 06 01:16

About ten years ago, when I was feeling particularly downcast about my lot, I decided to 'write out' the joys of my childhood a) to cheer myself up and b) so that I could always refer back to them in case they got lost in the ageing process. Result was well over 70,000 words.

The present topic of our interest has filled my mind with thoughts of Dylan Thomas's poem 'Fern Hill', have you read it? As for Wordsworth and 'nothing can bring back the hour of splendour in the grass or glory in the flower', then poor Wordsworth I say, how and why did he let the hour pass?

Roll on my third childhood (I'm already in my second).

kitten · May 02 06 06:41

Gopher wrote:
About ten years ago, when I was feeling particularly downcast about my lot, I decided to 'write out' the joys of my childhood a) to cheer myself up and b) so that I could always refer back to them in case they got lost in the ageing process. Result was well over 70,000 words.

My joys of childhood are limited to the first five years. Illness took over and the fun went away. By the time I was fully recovered I was no longer a child. I traded carefree play for books and still love reading. They were an escape into other places and times that sustained me in the dark hours. Perhaps that's another reason why I'm not a movie-goer. With books, one can visualize the background and let imagination fill the details. It's like jumping into a book and going along with the adventure. Movies just put the story out in front of you. You don't participate, you just watch.

The present topic of our interest has filled my mind with thoughts of Dylan Thomas's poem 'Fern Hill', have you read it? As for Wordsworth and 'nothing can bring back the hour of splendour in the grass or glory in the flower', then poor Wordsworth I say, how and why did he let the hour pass?

Roll on my third childhood (I'm already in my second).

Reading poetry is an attempt to see through another's eyes exactly how they feel. This isn't coming out the way it's supposed to: it's hard to explain. One person looks at the sky and sees clouds, while another looks at that same sky and sees angels. The thought of angels is communicated in verse, but the first person still only sees clouds. The words don't alter the perception. I haven't read a great deal of poetry since I left school, perhaps because teachers tried to tell me how to feel about the imagery. My opinion didn't coincide with the teaching.

Not my two cents worth. The price has gone up to a nickel to account for inflation.

Have a great day, Gopher. *sans bovines*

Gopher · May 02 06 11:16

kitten wrote:
Gopher wrote:
About ten years ago, when I was feeling particularly downcast about my lot, I decided to 'write out' the joys of my childhood a) to cheer myself up and b) so that I could always refer back to them in case they got lost in the ageing process. Result was well over 70,000 words.

My joys of childhood are limited to the first five years. Illness took over and the fun went away. By the time I was fully recovered I was no longer a child. I traded carefree play for books and still love reading.[FONT color=#40007f] If you ever come across it, give :'Mary, dear Mary' a try[/FONT] [FONT color=#40007f](by Jenny Melmoth)[/FONT][FONT color=#40007f], I'm sure you'd like it; [FONT color=#40007f]it's[/FONT] comprised of letters from a cat who has recently moved homes: she writes incessantly to her previous owner. I read it about two months ago, just about the most LOVING book concerning animals that I've ever come across.[/FONT] They were an escape into other places and times that sustained me in the dark hours. Perhaps that's another reason why I'm not a movie-goer. With books, one can visualize the background and let imagination fill the details. It's like jumping into a book and going along with the adventure. Movies just put the story out in front of you. You don't participate, you just watch. [FONT color=#40007f]I thoroughly agree, and what's more with a book you can cast your own characters and arrange the background scenery to that which pleases you most.[/FONT]

esent topic of our interest has filled my mind with thoughts of Dylan Thomas's poem 'Fern Hill', have you read it? As for Wordsworth and 'nothing can bring back the hour of splendour in the grass or glory in the flower', then poor Wordsworth I say, how and why did he let the hour pass?

Roll on my third childhood (I'm already in my second).

Reading poetry is an attempt to see through another's eyes exactly how they feel. This isn't coming out the way it's supposed to: it's hard to explain. One person looks at the sky and sees clouds, while another looks at that same sky and sees angels. The thought of angels is communicated in verse, but the first person still only sees clouds. The words don't alter the perception. I haven't read a great deal of poetry since I left school, perhaps because teachers tried to tell me how to feel about the imagery[FONT color=#40007f]. I persevered, despite the fact that my opinion never coincided with the teaching[/FONT]. My opinion didn't coincide with the teaching. However[FONT color=#40007f]However, try the one below:[/FONT]

[FONT color=#40007f][/FONT]

[FONT color=#40007f]Call me not man, for man I would not be[/FONT]

[FONT color=#40007f]If in the name of man I - man - preclude[/FONT]

[FONT color=#40007f]The joys of nature from the sovereignty[/FONT]

[FONT color=#40007f]Of my delight, and trade the fragile mood[/FONT]

[FONT color=#40007f]Of innocence for knowledge, love for lust,[/FONT]

[FONT color=#40007f]And leave the vastbness of ghe poetic wild[/FONT]

[FONT color=#40007f]For prosaic-pretty gardens. Though I must[/FONT]

[FONT color=#40007f]Run with the years, let me remain a child.[/FONT]

[FONT color=#40007f]If not in body, then within my heart,[/FONT]

[FONT color=#40007f]Let childhood be the compass of my days,[/FONT]

[FONT color=#40007f]And fill my soul with every glorious part[/FONT]

[FONT color=#40007f]Of this so lovely world: let all my ways[/FONT]

[FONT color=#40007f]Mix with the budded charm of youth and spring:[/FONT]

[FONT color=#40007f]Child I was born, and to that state I cling.[/FONT]

[FONT color=#40007f][/FONT]

[FONT color=#40007f]Salve atque vale![/FONT]

Not my two cents worth. The price has gone up to a nickel to account for inflation.

Have a great day, Gopher. *sans bovines*