“Some old things are lovely warm still with the life of forgotten men who made them.” ~ D. H. Lawrence
I snapped these photos with my phone on July 11th last year while visiting my daughter and her family at their summer property in Lead Cove, NL. They are of my son-in-law’s shed, which once belonged to his father, and to his grandfather before that. The above quote came to mind from one of my previous posts, titled Old.
The weathered closeup depicted in the last photo takes me back to that summer afternoon, when I pressed my hand on the sun-warmed clapboard, grey as driftwood under its flakes of peeling paint. There’s something about old structures that inspire a longing, speak in soft whispers, as if sharing with me the poignant aura of days long gone.
Jennifer’s Journal all started with a little procrastination on my part because I couldn’t pull myself away from my best-loved musical / fantasy / children’s movie, The Wizard of Oz. Check it out!
Follow the Yellow Brick Road…
PUBLISHED ON
Hello, and welcome to my Journal! This is my first foray into the world of blogging, so being a total newbie at this, I am not even sure where my words will take us. The one thing I can tell you, Dear Reader, is that Jennifer’s Journal will be a sharing of my thoughts in the forms of prose, poetry and musings. As well, I plan to include selections of photography that I think you will like.
New Year’s Eve 2011 is upon us, and 2012 beckons with promise. I should be getting gussied up for the Ball at the Barbour site here in Newtown in a few hours, the first one in several years for us. I should be primping and preening, painting my nails, curling my locks and donning a frock to ring in the new year in style with the local revelers. Instead, I’ve happened upon The (wonderful) Wizard of Oz, a movie that has hijacked my attention for the hundredth time.
And once again, I ask myself, What is it about the Scarecrow (always my favorite), that makes my silly heart melt? Is it the way he falls about in his straw-filled pants, like he hasn’t a bone in his body, or is it the way he talks so kindly to Dorothy, making me wish I was her? Yes, I smile at the Tin Man, and I laugh at the Cowardly Lion, but it is the Scarecrow that makes me PVR the rest of the movie before I am reluctantly pulled away.
And I know it is the last day of the year, but I didn’t want to wait for January One, which would have been the expected start date of a blog. I had to ask that very important question today.
Wait—what?? How can this be? I had thought my November would have dragged by much more slowly, after I signed up for NaNoWriMo and sequestered myself to my writing cave for thirty days. Most of those days started early too—pitch-black early before the clocks rolled back on the 7th—and yet the month flew by anyway.
It was pleasant rising with the sun on those mornings. Most of this blog’s “sun photography” has been of the sunset variety like the one on my header, but there is something special about the quality of the sun at dawn. The stillness, the quietude, the fresh hope that gives birth to each new day is perfect inspiration for writing a new chapter in a novel or starting a new chapter in your life.
“I write for the same reason I watch the sun rise every morning. Not to express some great truth, but because it makes me feel wildly, gloriously alive.” ~ Marty Rubin
Even though it’s November, we are still seeing shorebirds around Perry’s Point. Sandpipers, plovers, whatever the species, I like them all.
And I love that they make their home here in late spring, summer and fall. With the cold temperatures increasing, I predict our feathered friends will be winging their way south very soon. Here are three of my favourite shots of them from my files.
This one seems to have something to say!
So imagine my delight when I scored these lovelies at HomeSense recently:
Now I can enjoy beach birds all year round. 🙂
Bloggers and e-friends: My apologies for not visiting your blogs as much this month, due to my participation in NaNoWriMo. By the time I finish writing each day, I need to take a break from constant screens. But I shall return!
Vivian K. Perry here, filling in for Jennifer who is up to her eyeballs in paint cans, brushes and rollers this weekend. Besides that, she needed a break from her laptop, as she’s been busy this month outlining a new novel.
Anyhoo, I’m sharing several photos of yours truly today. I want to show you a little bit of what an ordinary day looks like for a fourteen year-old feline like moi. I love to explore around Perry’s Point every day, rain or shine, because I’m an excellent watch-cat. These two photos were taken during a misty morning vole hunt.
I spend a lot of time listening for the tiniest of movements in the grass.
No luck this morning. Not even a measly shrew. I’ll try again later.
I happen to have a fondness for ordinary, drama-free days. No pressure, no worries, and oodles of moments I can spend any way I please.
My peeps noticed that I’m doing something new recently. I look for warm spots! Does this mean I’m finding it colder than I used to? Perhaps it goes along with my advancing years. In the photo below, I am in Jennifer’s recently vacated (warm) spot. I’m always stealing it.
May I help you?No, this isn't a guilty look. This is my spot now, so kindly buzz off.
“It has taken awhile, but I certainly do know it now – the most wonderful gift I had, the gift I finally learned to cherish above all else, was the gift of all those perfectly ordinary days.” ~ Katrina Kenison, author of The Gift of an Ordinary Day: A Mother’s Memoir
A little late, but this has been my take on Lens-Artists Photo Challenge 169: The Ordinary
Have a purr-fect week, everyone! Head bumps and nose kisses, Vivian
Hi, everyone! It’s a wild and windy Thanksgiving weekend with storm surges in my corner of the world, so I thought I’d share a few photos that show weather that is more, shall we say, temperate.
“The unthankful heart discovers no mercies; but the thankful heart will find, in every hour, some heavenly blessings.” – Henry Ward Beecher
“I’m grateful for always this moment, the now, no matter what form it takes.” – Eckhart Tolle
Happy Sunday, all, and Happy Thanksgiving to my Canadian friends and followers! ♥♥♥
Thanks to two local photographers, you can see why Newtown has been nicknamed “the Venice of Newfoundland.” The community is like an archipelago, connected by a series of causeways and bridges.
Newtown:Tom Cochrane Photo, August 11, Facebook
Barbour Heritage Village, Newtown: Chelsey Lawrence Photography, Sept. 22, Facebook
I think it’s pretty cool that our house can be seen in both photos. 🙂
Indian summer winds blow through the hills, As the autumn sun shines on your hair; I will always remember the day that we met, In that wonderful time of the year.
So, will you dance with me tonight, my love, Beneath the September sky? Will you sing with me tonight, my love, And we’ll waltz for the rest of our lives.
~ excerpt from the song September Sky by Louise Morrissey
I will never forget the night we met in September of 1994, when “I fell head over heels in LIKE,” and how my whole life changed. Thank you for being you.
The above photo was taken by my son’s significant other, Jennifer (yes, another Jennifer, but I’ll return to that topic in a bit).
Vivian was enjoying a catnap in our back garden that day. Some days during summer, she crawls into the wild rosebushes in our garden for naps that can last for hours! She hasn’t got the life, I know. Thinking of the photographer reminded me of something I wanted to share.
First, about the southpaws: I am a lefthanded person. I was one of those little girls whose grandmother tried to switch her over to righthandedness, whether I was holding a spoon, fork, crayon or pencil. But I was having none of that. No siree bob. Mom finally convinced my Nanny Lambert that it was useless for her to keep trying.
I was the only lefty in my immediate family. My parents, sister, and brother were all righthanded. But then something interesting happened.
I had: 1 GIRL and 1 BOY
My brother had: 1 BOY
My sister had: 1 BOY and 1 GIRL
Three of those boys, our only sons, were born lefthanded! What are the odds on that?
Now, back to the “Jennifers.”
There are three other Jennifers in my extended family. No, none of them were named after me (shucks).
These other Jennifers are the wives/significant others of mine and my siblings’ three sons! All three couples have been together for years. ❤
Funny how life in all its randomness created such a happenstance. Do you have any strange coincidences in your family? Many southpaws? While thinking on that, have another, more closeup look at our Vivian. Thanks again for the great capture, Jenny!
Jennifer's Journal 