“There’s something magical about Mason,” said Lita (my sister-in-law) last night.

“He makes me want to have a child just like him,” smiled William (my nephew) as we waved goodbye in the afternoon.

Likewise, Celing (William’s grandma) waved him off with smiles and a certain wistfulness – she was still swooning because the two-year-old had taken a shine to her and had sought her out for cuddles.

“I could take him home with me,” said Henry (my brother) yesterday morning before we went to the play-park at Wynnum seafront.

“Aren’t you coming too?” Mason, strapped into the baby seat, searched my face for a positive reaction and may have found a tear.

Everyone loves the little boy who shoos away the ibis birds, pats big dogs, plays with the whales and dances to Beethoven…

The necklace is not made of lapis lazuli, aquamarine or opal – it’s just a trinket, worthless and so old that the marbled aqua-green paint is gradually wearing off the white ceramic beads. But the string of beads was shiny and pretty when, many years ago in Australia (well before Chris), it was given to me by Joseph.

During our love affair I used to wear the necklace almost every day; and when we parted finally I put it away in a jewellery box, which I rarely opened. With the passage of time I would  look in the jewel case occasionally and even select the necklace to wear with outfits of matching aqua-green or complementary orange. When the clasp broke several years back I didn’t have the heart to throw away the aging beads; instead I hung them over the top edge of my dressing table mirror so that they became duplicated on the front surface of the mirror; and many times I forgot the broken clasp and felt disappointed when I found I couldn’t wear them.

Last June a well-wishing stranger contacted me through my website.

“I have news of Joseph Gyorffy,” it read, “please get in touch if you’re interested.”

Shortly after making contact I restrung the beads and put on a new clasp. I wore the necklace on the plane. I wore it last week on my visit to see our mutual friend. I was about to take the beads off as I prepared to go out shopping this afternoon but something prevented me. You know it’s only a trinket, quite worthless, and yet…

As we expected, they were far too busy to entertain visitors on a weekday at the Murray ranch, which is why we didn’t phone to announce that we were coming. Chris and I just popped over to say hello and take a few photographs for Rosie, Ellie’s mum back in Devon. And then we went on to the Outpost Cafe at Canungra for a famous speciality pie for lunch.

Lots of things make us feel ‘on top of the world’ – don’t they? It could be something as basic as waking up and feeling healthy, or being out in the sunshine, or finding that you’ve lost a pound or two in weight, or you are in the most scintillating company…

Well, it’s actually raining here – just a light misty rain – nothing to get miserable about, and the sun is behind the clouds but it’s not dark and grey like some winter days, and it might well come out soon; and no, I haven’t lost any weight recently but I am keeping even and I don’t feel unhealthy. On the contrary I reckon I must be in blooming health because I’ve just come back from a walk right up to the topmost fields on Rosie’s farm; Malachi and Inca, the younger of the four dogs went with me (Sasha and Jas couldn’t face going out in the rain). I took an umbrella and walked in my green Wellington boots.

The dogs led the way, up and up, until I could see not just the farm below, but the neighbouring farmsteads and properties, and beyond to the River Exe, the estuary, the headlands and the sea in distance. Even the dogs seemed to take pleasure from stopping every so often to take in the view from their changing vantage points.They enjoyed also bringing me sticks and an old tennis ball one of them had found; and it was fun to be with them, throwing the sticks and the ball, and patting their heads when they came up to me for contact. Malachi never goes too far ahead lest I should be out of her sight; she’s as watchful as a mother hen.

I can’t say that I’ve yet mastered walking up steep grassy hillsides in Wellingtons – no matter how well-fitting, my socks always slip off and into the toes of the boots – and my feet still manage to feel wet and cold. But nothing could dampen my spirits. And although it’s raining harder now, and we are all indoors again, I still feel on top of the world. It is not only because we five are easy companions, comfortable sitting in near silence (Sasha is snoring a tad and someone is gnawing on a bone) as we warm ourselves by the Aga stove, or because ‘Horsey’ the cat came in just now for some food and a bit of love… Ah! Typically of England, the sun has broken through and the world outside looks so much prettier for it, but that’s not all… my beloved sister Mary returned from Australia on Tuesday.

And for fans of The Carpenters….

Top of the World (The Carpenters song)

From Wikipedia, the free encyclopedia

“Top of the World”
Cover to the single “Top of the World”
Single by The Carpenters
from the album A Song for You
A-side	“Top of the World”
B-side	“Heather”
Released	September 17, 1973
Format	7″ single
Recorded	1972
Genre	Country pop
Length	2:56
Label	A&M 1468
Writer(s)	Richard Carpenter; John Bettis
Producer(s)	Jack Daugherty
Certification	Gold (RIAA)
The Carpenters singles chronology
“Yesterday Once More” (1973) “Top of the World” (1973) “Jambalaya (On the Bayou)” (1974)

“Top of the World” is a 1972 song by The Carpenters. Originally recorded for and released on the duo’s 1972 studio album A Song for You, the song topped the Billboard Hot 100 singles chart in late 1973, becoming the duo’s second of three number one singles, following “(They Long to Be) Close to You” and preceding “Please Mr. Postman.” Originally intended to be only an album cut for the Carpenters, country singer Lynn Anderson covered the song and was the first to release it as a single. Her version nearly topped the U.S. country singles chart, reaching No. 2. Karen Carpenter re-recorded the song for the band’s first compilation as she was not quite satisfied with the original.

In Japan, the song was used as the opening theme song for the 1995 Japanese drama Miseinen. In 2003, it was used for another drama, this time as the ending theme song for Beginner. It appeared on the 2010 soundtrack of Shrek Forever After when Shrek enjoys being a “real ogre” and terrifying the peasants, as well as in a prominent scene of the 2012 film Dark Shadows, with a performance by the Carpenters seen on a television screen.

“Top Of The World”

Not many people nowadays will know of the poet William Barnes, one of my ancestors (three generations ahead of my maternal grandfather), unless perhaps you belong to the William Barnes Society; or maybe you frequent English country dances and quite by chance, hear folksingers singing the words of Barnes’ poems put to music (as happened to me once).  Born in 1801, he was a contemporary of Thomas Hardy and could well have become famous as one of England’s greatest poets had he not had a thing about writing in the Dorset dialect. Fluent in many languages, including classical Greek and Latin, my philologist forebear wrote mainly in simple English (without Greek or Latin roots) in order to keep alive the purity of the English language, especially the Dorset dialect… thus ensuring, sadly, that his works have fallen into obscurity.

There has been some discrepancy as to the number of languages that William Barnes studied: I once read in an article that William Barnes was well versed, if not fluent, in seventy-eight languages (although I can no longer find the source); whereas my mother believed the number to be even greater – such is the power of ‘word of mouth’ handed down through one hundred and forty years. I can’t name half that amount. A cursory check on several websites was inconclusive as to the exact figure.

Last night my husband Chris likened me to my famous long-gone relative (no, nothing to do with my nose). You may remember that I’ve become a bit of a vexillologist (a flag collector) of late, since I became intrigued by the little flags that come up on my website stats to indicate the many different countries from whence my visitors hail. At the time I was adding the flags of Greece and Hong Kong to my growing collection…

“Darling, would you believe I now have fifty flags?” I asked gleefully.

“Goodness,” said Chris feigning interest, “soon you’ll have nearly as many flags as William Barnes had languages!”

Click on the youtube link below to watch and listen to William Barnes reading one of his poems of rural life.

Biography of William Barnes

William Barnes was born at Blackmoor Vale in Dorset, the son of a farmer. He took a Bachelor of Divinity degree on a part-time basis at St. John’s College, Cambridge, and became a clergyman in 1848. The poems he wrote about his birthplace on themes such as love, natural landscape and regional life brought him a lot of public acclaim. But he also had many other interests, especially languages. Apart from the classical languages, he also learned Welsh, Hindustani, Persian, Hebrew and a handful of European languages. His great interest in different kinds of knowledge made him write on different subjects such as mathematics, astronomy and geography. His real talent, however, lay in exploiting his poetic gift in the writing of folklore, thus setting the stage for people like Thomas Hardy.

The sun was out, the sky was blue (not a cloud to spoil the view…) and Chris, Bobbie and I couldn’t resist going for a walk to Coryton Cove at the end of the sea wall, even though Bobbie didn’t have much time before having to catch her train back to London. We weren’t the only ones with the same idea – practically all of the inhabitants of Dawlish (and Devon) were out and about, which made it a rather sociable walk.

Firstly, we met my Aunty Lee, who was returning from Coryton Cove. I hadn’t seen her for months so we had to stop and talk, and explain that Bobbie had a train to catch. Just as we had begun to move on I heard a man behind me.

“Isn’t that Sally?” he asked.

I turned around and saw a couple, familiar to me, but out of their usual environment.

“That is you, Sally – isn’t it?” the lady stepped forward.

“Hello,” I said smiling, “It’s Pat Rowsell – isn’t it?”

“Nearly right, it’s Pam,” she corrected.

“And you are…” as I searched the man’s face the letter ‘C’ came into my head, “you are…Chris!”

“Cyril,” he laughed, “But you had the right letter.”

When last I saw the Rowsells, who still own the hardware store in Woodbury, East Devon, I was younger than Bobbie, our baby of the family.Thank goodness they still recognised me over three decades later! They looked exactly the same except for their grey hair. I would have liked to stay chatting for longer but, conscious of the limited time before Bobbie’s train, we made tracks.

We hadn’t gone far before a pretty young blonde stopped pushing her pram.

“Hello Sally!” she said.

“Hello Olivia,” I kissed her and peeked in the pram.

We all stood around the pram and admired five-month old Louis.

At the age of nine Olivia had become my first private art student; I taught her until she left school and went on to art college. Later she became quite a good sculptor and now she is a mother aswell. Coincidentally, I was thinking about Olivia only yesterday when I saw photographs of Louis on Facebook. And Bobbie and I had chatted about Olivia and the days when I had little art students. Now Bobbie – daughter, accomplished artist and ex-student of mine (no babies yet) – has started to give art lessons. And it’s over thirty years since I saw the Rowsells…

Don’t worry, Bobbie made to the station in plenty of time and will be home by now.

And, for your interest, I found this interesting snippet about “Time and Tide” in The Phrase Finder:-

“Do you think that animals go to Heaven?” asked a friend of mine.

“No,” I replied.

“Why not? If there is a Heaven and God, why wouldn’t He allow animals into Heaven?” he challenged.

“Because animals don’t have conscious thought,” I answered meekly and without much conscious thought as I had never before had the question put to me.

This snippet of a longer conversation took place many moons ago when I was about twenty-two. As you can guess, my friend, who was an atheist, was trying to make me see how ridiculous I was to have any doubt about the existence  – or rather the non-existence – of God.

In the ensuing years I have often thought about the gist of that conversation and have had cause to reconsider the idea of ‘conscious thought’ as being the main difference between humans and animals. Quite a deal of ‘conscious thought’ went on during my last night of farm-sitting, and I can tell you that most of it came from the characterful, considerate, understanding, loving and beautiful dogs in my care…

Coming down in favour of a good night’s sleep instead of another night of love, I said goodnight to the four lovely girl dogs in the kitchen and shut my bedroom doors behind me before getting into my sumptuous four-poster bed. “I shall sleep well tonight,” I thought, as I closed my eyes. No sooner had I enjoyed that thought than the door was pushed open by Inca. I put on the light to be sure.

“Not tonight Inca,” I said and I took her out to her basket. “Now you be good and stay here with Malachi, Jas and Sasha.”

Perhaps twenty minutes had elapsed when I was awakened by the sound of paws on the door, and again, a bigger push – and Inca was in. I didn’t have the heart to turn her away again but I got up and almost closed the door – leaving it just a crack open – to let the others know that it was not going to be a free for all night. Inca claimed her prized spot (the full half of the bed to my right) and we slept soundly for a couple of hours. Jas waddled in – she needed the air – and everyone, including ‘Horsey’ (Hunter) the cat and I, took the air. We all went back to our respective beds.

Some hours later (I didn’t ascertain the time) dear Malachi, like a responsible older sister, entered with little Sasha (the tiny white fluffy one). Sasha ran over to the bedside and reached her paws up to me. Malachi stayed by the door and looked on, as if to say, “I don’t mean to intrude – I shan’t be staying myself – but I think it only fair that Sasha have a turn sleeping with you. If you don’t mind, that is…”

“Okay, Malachi,” I said. “Come on Sasha!” And I picked her up and brought her onto the bed.

Inca relinquished her position without being asked and went back into the kitchen.

Sasha moved her small body, one way then another, under my hand so that I would always stroke the place she like best at any given moment; and her sweet notes of pleasure filled me with love for the little creature. I went to sleep feeling the softness of her tongue licking my hand.

Naturally, Inca couldn’t bear to be away too long and she found her way back in to the end of the bed. At dawn Inca began licking Sasha and Sasha returned the good morning kiss. At last Inca snuck in-between Sasha and me – no hard feelings from the tiny one who had had her blissful sleep.

Now if anyone asked me, “Do you think that animals go to Heaven?”, I would have to ask, “Why not?”

According to an article in “The Real Truth” there are many distinctive characteristics that set humans apart from animals; some of these characteristics (which I would question) are listed below:

• Self-consciousness: Beyond a simple recognition of self (as seen in a few animals), man can step back and become a spectator, critic or admirer of the world around him.

• Understanding time: Animals are only able to relate time to themselves; they have no ability of relating time to third parties.

• Connections between words: While animals can understand simple words or tones, they do not comprehend syntax or communicate in complex sentences.

• A sense of morality: Animals always take the path of least resistance. They do not have a conscience or sense of right and wrong.

• Free moral agency:  Animals react through instinct—programming.

• Capacity for wisdom: Without the ability to place themselves in time, animals are unable to weigh situations with previous experiences. While animals are able to develop behavioral patterns based on positive or negative stimulation, they are completely unable to analyze actions before they are performed. This ability, known as wisdom, is unique to human beings.

• Love: While some animals form lifelong relationships for the purpose of reproduction, none exhibit a parallel with the human characteristics of love, in which a couple shares experiences, goals, dreams, hopes and aspirations.

“A life lived in fear is a life half-lived.”

After all the festivities, today I thought I had better easel my way back into my normal painting routine. The new canal painting is progressing at last. You may remember that this was the painting I started as my art demonstration piece for the Sidmouth Art Group (lovely people) . They must be wondering how I got on with it.