This is for Esme Slabs prompt Through the door press > Join in < to do just that.
Abbotsbury.
This is The Husband and myself wrapped up from the driving wind one March day in Dorset in the UK..
A relitivly short but very steep climb took us to St Catherines Chapel. It is high on a hilltop overlooking Chesil Beach the swannery below and views of the Isle of Portland. The 14th century chapel was built by the monks of nearby Abbotsbury. Today the chapel still sits in isolation. I felt pretty close to God that day. This is a curious little chapel, full of secret ‘knooks’ and ‘wishing holes’ where local women used to pray to St Catherine and ask her to find them a husband. Luckily I did not need her help with that task.
The local parish holds occasional services throughout the year, which are open to the public. The acoustics inside are amazing so accopella voices are the best thing to hear as are the choral voices of Children at Christmas. So going through this door, … delivered atmosphere, surprises and history. #NationalHeritage
Picture on loan from the English Heritage page Here
She sidle’s next to him at the cocktail bar. Tempts him with a challenge, shows him her new car.
But he is a wordy poet who has seen her type before. He bandies words that were meant to anger. Soon she is heading for the door.
The poet sips his nectar, ashamed at his poorly chosen words. Notices the sky, thick with feathers, his ears filled with squawking birds.
He puts it down to the liquor and gulps another drop. Wobbles on the stool, leans to swallow a final shot.
Wipes drool from his chin, straightened up his shirt. He puzzled, when last he drank enough, to make his body hurt.
Then he hears a sultry voice as if it’s in his ear. As he hails a passing taxi the sky suddenly is clear,
Quietly, he wishes, he’d not behaved like a clown, He may have dozed, the way that drunkards do. But wouldn’t be wearing a frown.
That devil can not get you, no matter what she may think. Your soul is spread far and wide, inside the words you think.
It has been scribbled on cardboard cartons. Etched on an Angels wing. Put inside birthday cards and in every song you sing.
Your soul is in each thought you think. It is dribbled in your poetic Ink.
You see, the devil doesn’t stand a chance. So pour her a final conciliatory drink.
Painting of Crow by my sister Anne Maxwell. No one other than myself has permission to copy this painting in any way, without express permission from A.M. Maxwell or myself.
Devil.
This came about when I was set an exercise By Sophie Hannah of Dream Author Coaching. The task was to take a random dream and write. Nonsense and theatre included.
I recall the Valentines when I purchased a spud gun, to remind him of his youth! Having heard stories of the fun he and his twin brother had as boys in the sixties. It took time and research on my part to find one.
Beautifully wrapped in brown paper and string in keeping with the times past. Given with a giggle and a kiss that sealed the start of this gloriously decadent day.
For a Valentine should be a measure of your lives a bit of a tickle not too serious, just … fickle. A show of happiness that he already knows and trusts. The receipt of such a gift is unlikely to have ever been given before, like me then, original and unique.
Then came my gift from the husband, not wanting to advertise I will not photograph the wrapping.
A chocolate honeycomb filled Bunny was prestnted to me, in a pre opened package … minus a leg! He remembered us laughing at an advert on television which in it’s self is lovely, as me and he and television don’t often, or should I say, don’t regularly meet. Television seems to act as a sleeping draft on me. Give me a comfy seat and the husband to cuddle; throw in the screen and sure enough I am gone. Anyway, my present … an edible bunny with an already missing leg. The husband grinned and said. “A bunny only needs one leg … to hop.”
We laugh a lot him and me, and banter constantly. I ate my gift … not enough to spoil the Valentines banquet that I knew he would cook; but enough to make me smile.
Unfortunately certain body parts if mine, became targets for testing the power of the innocuous looking spud gun. I can tell you it stings! I really should have thought this through.
I know, I am a bit of a loon but I have it on good authority that all the best people are.
Thank you Esme for sharing our stories on the salon this Valentine week.
Have you had an unusual Valentines gift? Let me know in the comments and click to read more @esmesalon Now!
I always loved Tag as a kid, today I am responding to a set of questions for those of us in the wonderful Facebook group .
Here are the Questions and of course my answers.
SIPB Summer tag.
My favourite holiday destination.
is Lerici in Italy, i is where the natives holiday, where The Husband took me on our first holiday as a “couple”.
My favourite childhood memory of summer.
Sand in sandwiches (that is how they got their name … well I thought) tin bucket and spades, three sisters the parents and me. Splashing about, being scared in case the undertoad got me… I didn’t ever see one; though I looked.
Which do you prefer ice-cream or frozen yoghurt.
Ice-cream, but this girl never says no to any Dairy.
What is your go to dinner on a hot summer evening? Feel free to share the recipe!!
Spatchcocked chicken, roasted with butter, herbs, garlic and lemon under the skin.
Served with steamed baby new potatoes, Asparagus tips, tiny corn cobs, all in a dish. Crumble Wensleydale cheese over the mix of potato and veg. Put in the already hot oven until cheese melts a little, then serve Alfresco with a light rose wine. Magnificent!
Due to having been diagnosed with Haemochromatosis last year. I am restricted to chicken or white fish, but I now make a Mexican style bean burger and home made slaw, so I join in and love the ambience created by a barbecue with family and friends.
A song/s that take you back to an amazing summer.
Andre`a Bocelli’s Mi Manchi.
Our song. The Husband took me to watch him live, singing in his home town, in his own outside theatre, amongst the Tuscan hills.
How do you beat the heat in the summer?
I don’t, I just go with it, lucky to be alive experiencing the sun on my bones the air on my skin.
Do you prefer swimming in the ocean or a pool?
Float, I float in the Ocean. Not a swimmer, medically I mustn’t get too tired 😢😡
What is your preferred summer vacation. Travel with family? Solo? or Friends?
The Husband and I, in the motor home, working our way from England to Italy. Finding new places to stop, new people to watch; making memories.
So flip-flops or barefoot?
Either, I love barefoot and am always at home. But on sand flip-flops stop the sand burning my feet.
SIPB peeps your are it! Tag!!
Now it is your turn. Cut and paste the questions, answer in a post on your blog then link to Reshare. https://www.facebook.com/groups/SharingInspiringBloggers/ It is a super group if you want to join in follow the link join the group and make A Summer tag post. Good luck and hope to see you there.
What is your favourite Summer holiday destination?
What is your favourite childhood memory of Summer?
Which do you prefer: ice-cream or frozen yogurt?
What is your go-to dinner on a hot Summer evening?
What is your favourite BBQ food?
Share a song that takes you back to an amazing Summer
How do you beat the heat in the Summer?
Do you prefer swimming in the ocean or a pool?
Do you prefer to travel with family, friends or solo?
Welcome to Writing Through the Soul to Heal the Soul. Where you will learn everything you need to know to heal your soul through writing! Thanks for stopping by.
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