Ruth

More from the lovely Stephie 😉 xx

e-Tinkerbell

“If a young woman have beauty, birth, breeding, wit, sense, manners, modesty, and all these to an extreme, yet if she have not money, she’s nobody, she had as good want them all for nothing but money now recommends a woman; the men play the game all into their own hands.” (Moll Flanders, Chpt 4)

Can a “fallen women” be also pure, innocent? A sinless sinner? Elizabeth Gaskell’s Ruth is the answer to these questions. Ruth is the angel that sins without even knowing the meaning and the consequences of her action, she is a pure ray of light that brightens the entire novel and gently glides over the greyness of Victorian prudery and moralism. Ruth is an orphan of about sixteen, who works at a sweatshop and whose uncommon beauty attracts the young and rich Henry Bellingham. They form a secret friendship, which is found out by Mrs Mason, the…

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Winter has arrived

Just so long as we don’t get a repeat of winter 2010…

beetleypete

It has been a while since my last Beetley weather report. Well at least it seems so, to me. 🙂

After the hot summer, and an unusually mild early autumn, we are getting payback, as I might have guessed. Almost gale force winds, and torrential rain that lasted for over twenty hours. The leaves are still falling, and are now sodden clumps all over the place. Driven into piles by swirling winds, then rained on, they will have to be left where they are, as I cannot even contemplate trying to clear them up in this weather.

And the mud is back, let’s never forget the mud. In the space of a few days, pleasant dog walks have returned to battling high winds, and slipping around in the rapidly forming mud pools.

Checking the weather forecast, the earnest young man predicted ‘showers’ for Norfolk. You have to laugh at those…

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Past, Present, and Future

Adam is looking forward to seeing his daughter in Australia…

itinerantneerdowell

The Thanksgiving Day celebration went on in an orderly fashion, from rising at 4 AM to place the 23 pound sacrificial turkey in the oven, to relaxing with satiated guests later that evening.

Hard-core family shoppers gathered for 6 AM breakfast at a popular chain restaurant near the malls.  I politely declined their offer to join the entourage.  Instead, chatted with wait staff at a local “greasy spoon” a couple of hours later.

Traditional Holiday Season has been extended from Halloween, through Thanksgiving and Christmas.  That should satisfy the  hardiest of shoppers.

Our daughter returned from Australia–where she will be taking up residence.  She spoke of minor cultural differences in arranging furnishings for rented housing.  Driving on the left, after a week, became second nature.

She cautioned us to obey local speed limits when visiting.  That was prophetic, because on our return trip yesterday, I was stopped by local gendarmerie…

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Ollie: A dog’s weekend away

Ollie’s holiday ;

beetleypete

As I was getting ready to leave on Saturday morning, Ollie was showing signs of interest in my preparations. He noticed that I was dressed and ready earlier than usual, and that I was packing things into bags. By the time I got around to picking up his food and water bowls, he was beside himself. Could he be going out somewhere? Was I going to leave him behind? He ran around panting, and sniffing everything I touched. And his expressive face portrayed the full range of his emotions; from excitement, to worry, and eventual desperation.

Then I picked up his large bed, and folded it to carry to the car. That was it for him. If his bed was going, then he was sure he was going too. He scampered around like a pup, displaying every possible sign of canine enthusiasm. For all he knew, he might just be…

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Guest author: Karen Hugg ~ How My Cat Died, Was Revived, and Shook My World

What a beautiful cat!!!

Sue Vincent's Daily Echo

Have you ever been so shaken by an experience that you had to write about it? That happened to me a year ago with my cat. She’s now fourteen-years-old but we got her as a stray in 2004. My dog Arrow had cornered her in our backyard. She was a beautiful ragdoll calico with a black patch on her nose. Arrow had bit her, but not hard, so we rushed her to the vet to try and save her. After she was stitched up, we contacted our neighbor whose garage she had been sleeping in, but the neighbor told us she didn’t want her. Meanwhile, our little stray had a warm disposition and chirpy chattiness and sweet playfulness. So, with the cyclists in the Tour de France riding up the Col de la Madeleine that day, we brought her home and named her Madeleine. We joked it was Arrow’s punishment…

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Joy, and Sadness

Welcome to the world Violet 😉 xx

beetleypete


Violet Rose. 6lbs 1oz.

It has been a good few years since we had a new baby in my maternal family. I was delighted to go and visit the latest arrival, Violet, last weekend. She was delivered by C-section, and I am pleased to report that Mum and baby are both doing really well.

The added joy of seeing the new baby was that she is named after my mother, Violet, and also my grandmother, Rose. As I have never had children, it made me feel very happy to know that my own mother’s name will live on in this new addition to our family, and I know that my Mum would have been touched beyond belief.

Then this morning, along came the sadness. Violet’s great-grandfather, and my last surviving uncle, passed away after a long illness, at the age of 87. He never got a chance to see Violet…

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Weather window

I hate the cold!!!

Sue Vincent's Daily Echo

We woke, the dog and I, to a white and wintry world. A hard frost stuck the soles of my slippers to the path as I went out to retrieve the first ball of the day. I have attempted to explain, over the years, that, given both her species and her parentage… she is supposed to do the retrieving, but if the grass is cold, wet or muddy, she disagrees. She gets it half right…the setter half of her will ‘set’, freezing into the classic stance and indicating the ball’s position with every tense line of her body. It is the retrieving half she refuses to acknowledge, except for the Toller’s ‘song’ with which she is apt to communicate if I am not taking enough notice. Especially when a ball is in play.

So, in naught but dressing gown and slippers, I went out into the frozen morning to retrieve…

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