Coming down out of the freezing sky with its depths of light, like an angel, or a Buddha with wings, it was beautiful, and accurate, striking the snow and whatever was there with a force that left the imprint of the tips of its wings — five feet apart — and the grabbing thrust of its feet, and the indentation of what had been running through the white valleys of the snow — and then it rose, gracefully, and flew back to the frozen marshes to lurk there, like a little lighthouse, in the blue shadows — so I thought: maybe death isn’t darkness, after all, but so much light wrapping itself around us — as soft as feathers — that we are instantly weary of looking, and looking, and shut our eyes, not without amazement, and let ourselves be carried, as through the translucence of mica, to the river that is without the least dapple or shadow, that is nothing but light — scalding, aortal light — in which we are washed and washed out of our bones. Author

Thursday 8 January 2015

The Garden Gate


Todays card is made using the brilliant cdrom Janet Kruskamp 'The Collection' brought to us by Joanna Sheen. The cd has a huge amount of wonderful images. I loved this image of the garden gate with it's path to the house. There are various pieces decoupaged on the image. The backing paper has been mounted onto some green card as well as the main image. I have embellished using some diecut leaves and some pearl effect flowers.

Here in the mountains it has just started raining even though we have a perfectly blue sky. Last night was a wild one with the wind and rain lashing the house. It is supposed to get wild again tomorrow. Just as I've written this it's stopped raining..lol.It looks as if it's going to be one of those days. The cats are not having any of it though. No-one is leaving and they have all cuddled up and gone to sleep.

When I look at this picture I think of the pride that my Grandmother had in her flower garden.On the farms that we lived on, she had a flower garden in both. The largest areas were always the vegetable gardens, producing most of the farms vegetable and fruit needs. I can remember picking peas for a sunday dinner and being sent to the herb garden to pick the mint for the mint sauce. As hard as she worked in the vegetable garden, alongside the work she did with the animals and the keeping of the chickens, it was always her flower garden that gave her the greatest joy. I can picture her now watching for the first shoots of the snowdrops coming through. The banks of daffodils that she grew on the banks of the drive. The perpetual battles that she had with the slugs over the marigolds. And of course the roses. I can still remember the rose bushes flowering in the flower garden. They were all a deep deep red and I can see her now stroking the petals gently as if they were a child. She always considered it a marvel every time something bloomed. She grew a lot of the flowers for the house and loved to see them in all the different rooms. She had a special glass vase..blue and white with streaks of lilac which she always kept for the hydrangeas which she grew. They were always a bluey purple colour that went perfectly with the vase. I still have the vase and it lives in my bathroom on the window sill where the light shines through the glass and takes me back to a different time.

A lot of people considered my Grandmother to be a hard woman.She wouldn't stand for any messing and wouldn't take any nonsense off a man or a woman. She could work as hard as any man, loved her animals and worked hard to ensure that they had the best lives possible. I can see her now, after spending a night up with a sick cow, still getting on with making breakfast for the farm hands as if she had had a full night sleep. She was a good friend to many and the house was often filled with her friends.But most importantly to me the house was always filled with love and understanding for anyone who was down on their luck. If I could manage to be half the woman that she was..I would be a happy woman.

Well the coffee is calling and a caffeine hit is the urge of the moment. So until tomorrow..take care and happy crafting.      
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