It is Misty’s birthday today; she is 6 years old. Yes, we did sing Happy Birthday to her and she enjoyed it very much. She gives us enormous pleasure and devotion and makes us laugh constantly. This is a photo of her not long after she came to live with us.
Nicholas Sparks is on top form with this 2006 novel which explores relationships in his typically quirky and individual style. Not unexpected from a writer who has given us The Notebook and Message in a Bottle.
The hero is a member of the United States Army who finds love but also finds himself conflicted with duty to his country following the events of 9/11 He falls in love with a girl who holds the key to helping him understand his father and their unusual ways of communicating.
It is not really a “feel-good” book – or is it? Certainly, the plot twists and turns in unusual ways. As readers we learn about maturity and tolerance and ultimately we are convinced of the reality of true love. I read it whilst struggling with a biography of the Queen (more about that if I ever finish it,) In fact, I found myself almost unable to put Dear John down. And that despite the fact that the plot was not going the way I wanted it to. Perhaps I am too influenced by fairy stories or romcom films.
I think it deserves a nine out of ten. What do you think?
Thanks to Schmidleysscribbling for this cartoon:
An imaginative Hallelujah Chorus
We’re being lulled into thinking winter is a long way away. Yes, the nights are dark by half-past four, but the temperature outside hovers from 9C to 14C – and the grass is still growing. HBTW cut the back grass a week ago, and may yet have to do the front.
This little shepherd boy is from the Fontanini range and is called Aaorn. He is one of the 5inch range and is part of our present to ourselves this year to add to the nativity scene. The set of stable, figures, angels and animals now spreads over most of the top of the piano; that means stopping buying extras or nudging everything up closer together. Go on, guess,which do you think is more likely? Of course this relies on a) HBTW being agile enough to get up into the loft to get the storage box down; and c) nothing terrible having happened to them – mice don’t seem to like them so I am hoping all is well.
My source in the UK has stopped stocking this make of figurine, so they are having to travel from the States. I have also ordered three palm trees and a campfire (no picture).
If you have a good memory, you may recall that last year’s additions included an elephant. To be honest he was a bit of a disappointment as he was too small to be full-sized. Now you may be wondering why on earth I enjoy this gathering of the toys together. Perhaps it has something to do with the Christmas times of austerity at the end of World War II – or maybe I am still just a kid. It’s fun anyway.
Here is a confession and Ssshh! don’t tell anyone – it is only lack of space that stops me going into the dollshouse business. I love all the miniature pariphernalia. Now I did have a dollshouse when I was quite young. However, it is associated with being in isolation hospital for 6 weeks. And of course the furniture and fittings were not all that sophisticated. Except for the lights. I adored the lights. Happy Days.
By the way – was there an elephant at Bethlehem?
And does it matter?
My new dancing shoes arrived in the post today and thankfully they fit perfectly. As to whether they are magic shoes that will help me to dance better, I cannot say. Tomorrow night will tell. There is one slight problem, though, they have a very significant smell. I can’t decide if it is greasepaint or glue.
Bertie is a new member of our wider family. He and his companion adult are coming to stay over Christmas. He looks beautiful, let’s hope he and Misty get on.
A sprightly 60-year-old woman was walking along 5th Avenue when she heard a voice from above:
“You will live to be 100.”
She looked around but didn’t see anyone. Again she heard the voice: “You will live to be 100.”
Boy, she thought to herself, that was the voice of God!
And then she thought it over: I’ve got 40 more years to live! Might as well make the most of them.
So off she went to the plastic surgeon. She got everything fixed, from head to toe. She was going to be as gorgeous as a 20-year-old. She was ready for her new second life.
When she left the plastic surgeon’s office after her final checkup, she walked across the street, got hit by a bus, died, and found herself in heaven.
She complained to God, “You told me I would live to be 100! I was supposed to have had 40 more years! So how come you let that bus kill me?”.
God looked over at her and replied, “Oh, sorry. I didn’t recognize you.”
Thanks to Wounded Bird
It turns out that the bug had not quite had its way in the Dalamory Homestead, HBTW suffered his own collapse and took to bed. This involved wearing several extra jumpers, plugging in earphones to the radio and “coorying” under the covers for the best part of 24hrs. We are both now in the more pleasant stage of recovery. There is not much energy to do anything, but plenty of time for contemplation, light reading or watching the TV.
Especially this weekend it has meant time to focus on the Remembrance services. We couldn’t manage our own church this morning, so watched the coverage at the Cenotaph in London. Very moving it was too. Last night I watched the British Legion Festival of Remembrance from the Albert Hall. Maybe it was my convalescent state, but I found myself very tearful and ended the evening red-eyed with a bunged up nose. The stories of the injured and the relatives of those who had died, particularly the young war widows told of courage and sorrow. And somehow hope shone through all the same.
As ever, at this time, I think of relatives who were in the forces in the Second World War and Korea. I remember their stories and their sense of humour, which seemed so necessary to get them through it. I watch the parade of people in the march-past and note how they are getting older year by year. I know I often have a grumble about our way of life nowadays, but in general terms we are moving on and becoming a more just and fair society. I don’t believe that war and fighting is the way to spread justice, but I do understand that sometimes it has been inevitable. Some of my colleagues in the ministry had difficulty with paying respect and remembrance for the fallen, because of their strong belief in peace. I believe that life is muddier rather than straightforward, and as I get older I am more grateful for the freedoms we enjoy.
Oh dear – I had better stop before this turns into a sermon or a treatise on the Just War Theory. Things I used to wrestle with regularly.
Wherever you are, I wish you a peaceful Remembrance Day.
Unfortunately, I’ve been unwell for two days following a night of throwing up. Pah… or perhaps that should be Blah! The good side is that I have been able to read a bit more, though I slept for Scotland for most of yesterday.
Can you make any sense of what is going on in the European economy? I watch the TV pundits and read various predictions of gloom, but to be honest it is not making an awful lot of sense. I just don’t seem to be able to understand. People are reacting out of fear, though I have the dark suspicion that somebody out there somewhere, sitting in front of a computer is either manipulating financial matters or taking advantage of them for personal profit.
That brings me back to a snippet from Joan Chittister (The Gift of Years)
The world has been upside down for so long, it is almost impossible to believe anymore that the meaning of life is not about doing. The notion that it is about being – being caring, being interested, being honest, being truthful, being available, being spiritual, being involved with the important things of life, of living – is so rare, so unspoken of, as to be obtuse. We don’t even know what meaning means anymore.
The way I read it, the world would be a better place if we remembered to be kind, and to look out for one another. Any thoughts?
