My Diary Entry for 11th February 2010
The book I am reading at the moment ‘Wish I May’ by Justine Picardie, struck a note with me whilst I was reading in the bath this morning. I am actually enjoying the book, although it isn’t the kind of ‘chick lit’ that I would normally go for. In one passage the author describes the kind of house ‘Kate’, the protagonist of the book, would buy if it could be found:-
A little wooden house by the sea: a perfect cottage, in the sand dunes
With a garden gate that led straight to the beach. Inside there would
Be sun-bleached linen and walls the colour of seashells; shelves
Made out of driftwood and a worn teak floor. Outside would be clean
Air and golden light, the crash of waves beyond empty expanses of
Unlittered, perfect sand. Her very own Shangri-la.
This is a version of my own fantasy house and the pictures I often find in ‘Country Living’ magazine are very like the above description. I play a game with the weekend newspapers in the Home section when I go through all the adverts and decide which house I would buy given an endless supply of money. To be honest I have never really found one that fits my exacting imaginary requirements. I play the same game with the television programme ‘Escape to the Country’, and in all the programmes I have watched, I have only ever seen one that I would gladly move in to. So in all probability, the house I fantasise about is just that – a fantasy. My dream home is just a dream!
I popped over to Janets’ house this morning to use her computer for finding some more of my ancestors, there is a puzzle I am working on concerning one of my great grandmothers x 3, and although I have accumulated a good deal more paperwork, I am still no nearer to solving the puzzle. Perhaps that is what tracing your family is all about – solving the puzzle.
We had a snow storm this morning which lasted for about fifteen minutes, then vanished. This has got to be one of the longest winters I can remember, I can’t seem to keep warm even with the heating on all day; albeit on a low mark, just to keep the chill off.
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Today is just an ordinary day. But, maybe we shouldn't ignore the ordinary days - just maybe, way back in time, something happened to mark this particular day as special.
What a fascinating post! Flighty xx
ReplyDeleteThanks Flighty - good job I have an enquiring mind.
ReplyDeleteThe Winter of1963 was long and cold .Snow started to fall on Boxing Day 1962,and icy conditions lasted well in towards the end of March.
ReplyDeleteThe Winter of 1947was also very bitter. Ice on the inside of the bedroom windows, no central heating. However large thick eiderdowns on the bed, those with real feathers.
I wonder if the historic folks in your post had homes in which they felt content.
ReplyDeleteNot sure I catch your drift Susan
ReplyDeleteWell, I was just thinking Tiberius and Amadeus didn't have particularly pleasant or easy lives. Nelson Mandela in prison for so long. Perhaps he had an imaginary home like "Kate's".
DeleteOr maybe I'm not making sense as I have just been to the dentist:)
Ah I get what you are saying now - and you are probably right.
DeleteNice post but now I have a picture of you covered in bubble reading chic lit!
ReplyDeleteAs Dorcas Lane says in Lark Rise to Candelford - it is my one weakness.
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