Sunday, 4 April 2010

Easter at Tillypronie







The Easter rabbit has hidden the eggs, in fiendishly clever places, and the 'little ones' (now six-foot something teenagers) have found them. In the warmth of the dining room, bowls of crocuses are flowering, alongside a dish of eggs dyed with onions. (Remember doing that as children? Out of such a simple ingredient comes a magical yellow).
The r on my keyboard is sticking, which means I have developed a lisp.
Still no sign of a white mountain hare on the snow-covered hill, but will keep looking this afternoon. Ragged white clouds and patches of sailor blue sky; like a wind-torn ship, spring voyages onwards...

16 comments:

kairu said...

Lovely photographs, Justine. Those crocuses are such a beautiful purple, with their powdery orange pistils (is that what they are called? I forget the anatomy of a flower). I love the onion-dyed eggs, and Mr. Rabbit is, upon closer inspection, wearing a very dashing pair of cufflinks.

Happy Easter!

Sarah Standalone said...

I am inspired by your last 2 beautiful posts. I hope the highlands restore and renew you.

My favourite Easter reading with my children was Hare and the Easter Eggs by Alison Uttley, with the Margaret Tempest's beautiful drawings.

In contrast to your jaunt to the country I am going to St Pauls today - my son wants to see Nelsons tomb, I want to see John Donnes final resting place.

Enjoy the rest of your trip.

Sarah Standalone said...

I am inspired by your last 2 beautiful posts. I hope the highlands restore and renew you.

My favourite Easter reading with my children was Hare and the Easter Eggs by Alison Uttley, with the Margaret Tempest's beautiful drawings.

In contrast to your jaunt to the country I am going to St Pauls today - my son wants to see Nelsons tomb, I want to see John Donnes final resting place.

Enjoy the rest of your trip.

enid said...

I love those photos especially the crocuses which we don't get in SA. I am wearing my gorgeous rabbit brooch from London made by Anne Sherbourne. I hope that the Highlands are restful and regenerative. What are you reading?

joj said...

Dear Jusine,
A series of unlikely events have led me to read your book "If the Spirit Moves You..."and impelled me to take the time and effort to try to find you and write to you. It should not have been a surprise that you have been a prolific writer since the time of that book...I am happy for you.
My heart is touched by the poignancy of your longing to be with your sister.
I offer my personal witness that we can not only feel the presence and love of our departed dear ones--but that we can also be with them again in glorified family relationships that go on eternally.
Please contact the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter Day Saints. They have authentic and healing answers to your questions about spirit, life and love after death.
I took time out of my busy life to read your book because I was moved by the spirit to do it. Your book is searchingly well written, and there are so many more answers than you were able to find in all of that seeking.
You began your search with "Jesus is dead and so is my sister."
The end of your search is Jesus lives and so does my sister, and Jesus has a plan so that my sister and I can be together again with our children and all those that we love.
Thank you for sharing your search and writing your excellent book. It broadened my perspective and caused me to ponder the truths I have held dear since childhood which comfort me now as I contemplate the photo of my mother who "graduated" to the spirit realm a month ago. Justine, I love you and Thank you. I wish you happiness and peace. Sincerely, Janis

Sarah Banks said...

Hello Justine. I love the photos. Even after all the snow we've had in Yorkshire this year, your blog still makes a walk in the snow sound tempting. Is that a Viburnum you have in your photo? I have just planted one this year in the hope of future winter scent. And on Saturday, I also stumbled across a sought-after Daphne at our local market for an equally lovely winter fragrance. An apt plant for you!

Karen, Surrey said...

It sounds idylic there. Although I am not tempted to enjoy any more snow this year. It does make the Spring even sweeter though when the winter has been like this one we've just had. Enjoy your time away.

Emma said...

Beautiful photos. ♥

Justine Picardie said...

Thanks, everyone, for your comments. I am back in London in the rain, feeling stressed, which is of no use to anyone. A thousand small worries, adding up to a sense of overwhelming anxiety. We all know the feeling...

Justine Picardie said...

Computer crashed, oven broken, electrics failing. But the sun is shining, and a blackbird singing outside.

kairu said...

The sun is shining here, too. Last night it rained and I curled up in bed in my pajamas and ate chocolate-chip cookies (homemade, with the darkest chocolate I could find in my pantry) with a glass of milk, while reading a Patricia Wentworth mystery.

enid said...

It has rained today after a sweltering summer and I love the clean air and I am sure the garden loves the rain. What is everyone reading ?

Knitting Out Loud said...

Anxiety is debilitating, hope you are feeling better Justine. And that the oven and computer are fixed. Rain doesn't help.

I am dealing with a current bout of night anxiety by watching Upstairs Downstairs til my eyelids droop, then reading "A Pig in Provence" in bed til it falls out of my hands.

But it is a beautiful spring here in Maine, with forsythia, daffodils, abeliopyllum, puschkinia, squill and one brave hellebore (which I saw blooming in huge clumps all over London in February years ago - that trip to London was amazing, everything so green, with so much in bloom at a time when Maine is usually frigid and covered in crusty snow ).

And my daughter in Ireland, today at Newgrange then heading to the Galway coast.

Perhaps the sun has come out for you today?

enid said...

I do hope that your worries have dissolved. I am missing your blog.

Sarah Standalone said...

I wanted to write a poem but a bird on lilac spray,
was thinking the same and whistled what I was going to say.

Except it wasn't a bird, it was Enid. And it wasn't a poem.

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