Revival

A message from Brigid ....

I have been a blogger since 2005. At the height of my blogging busy-ness, I had "a small stable" of blogs on different topics: social and political commentary; desert spirituality; food; waste and ....

A few years ago I called time and ceased blogging altogether - although there was an occasional post. I had called it quits. I am an aged woman these days with a couple of serious illnesses. I am not allowed to drive. I am no longer active in organisations. I think it fair to say that I am housebound. I am active on Facebook, although I am not there as often as once I was. I have decided to embark on a re-entry into the blogging world ... beginning with The Trad Pad and, possibly, a return to my food blog, Oz Tucker. I have always used a lot of photographs on my blogs ... and I miss not being out and about with my camera.

The Trad Pad has been my blog for the lovely things of life. The controversial or political has seldom intruded. Occasionally, the spiritual has found its way in, but I kept spirituality for the blog, Desert. I don't yet know if I will revive that. I will stick pretty much to food and the lovely things of life. If I have some regularity with those two categories, I feel that I will be doing well. I hope that, with this blog new friendships can be formed and old friendships renewed; new lovelies discovered; new reflections can enter into the meaning of modern life. I would love to hear from you - particularly if you have suggestions for new topics to enter into the conversation. So, it is a new year. Let's see what it has in store, what it can bring to us. And I hope that those who share the spirit of The Trad Pad can spread the message of a world of beauty, the creativity of humanity, and the joys of simplicity and tradition. ~~~ February, 2017

Monday, August 14, 2006

Thank heaven for little girls!

Lazy Cow has the most beautiful celebration of The Girl's sixth birthday. It led Miss Eagle to recall something she wrote back in January 1970 about Herself who was then six weeks short of her sixth birthday. So she has dusted it off and, 36 and a half years later on that electronic whiz-bang thing called a blog, here it is.

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Photobucket - Video and Image Hosting

VACATION IN RETROSPECT
Tomorrow, school will resume. Girlish hands will be pulled and pushed into gloves and unruly locks covered with the regulation hat. Feet that have run free for most of the summer will be reluctantly shod in brown lace-ups.
As I look back over the past summer, I wonder what will happen to the companions of vacation time.
It all started with the "fair damsel in distress". A passion for pretty ladies found an outlet in an old green skirt (garb for many a tropical fishing expedition) and the torn-off bottom of a large paper grocery sack to which was attached an old very worn lace curtain. All this added up to one lady, mediaeval.
Through this love of pretty things, we discovered two of the greatest artists of all time - Goya and Michaelangelo. Goya's paintings of beautiful women ran a little ahead of Michaelangelo's wonderful "David".
Now, a school opening looms closer, culture and prettiness have given way to an adapted version of an ancient pastime.
Matt Dillon strides around the homestead with his Marshal's badge made from an out-of-date Chronicle; an old, upturned straw hat to shade his eyes; and a popgun and cap gun slung in an old port strap around the hips. We are asked to "holler" for a Marshal.
Tomorrow can't come quickly enough, and being in Grade 1 is a grand thing. New events will take precedence, and I wonder what will remain.
I hope that the colour and wonder of beautiful things will not fade, but I pray that Matt Dillon will, as all good cowboys do, walk off into the sunset.
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Miss Eagle reports that the colour and wonder of beautiful things has never faded. Herself is a collector and a decorator and a stylist. A beautiful shop has come - and has just gone - but it is clear beauty will never fade from her life as she styles a corner here and a laundry there. Matt Dillon remains somewhere off in the sunset.
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