Random Thoughts at the End of January

 

This is not my patch of snowdrops, but my neighbour's, and as it adjoins our driveway, I enjoy it to the full. I think it's getting a little crowded and may ask the owner if I can divide a few clumps and move them over to my own garden patch to augment my tiny cluster. 

A light skiff of snow fell in the night, surprising us this morning. I went out early to capture some photos - above is an allium seed head spikey with ice and wet snow. 

Winter has been quite mild here, but sometimes February gives us another blast just to remind everyone that winter is not officially over. Happily, we reached the mid-point between the winter solstice and the spring equinox just yesterday meaning that daylight hours will increase noticeably. I also read that the sun will no longer set before 5 pm until next November. Let's just ignore that and enjoy the lengthening days and coming spring/summer. 

Hellebores are emerging from the ground. I poked around in the garden this morning and found this trio of blooms looking rather shivery. 

First published in 1987, Victoria magazine inspired me in so many ways. I loved reading it in my jungle home in South America, but that's a story for another time. I kept many of my favourite issues, and others collected for me. This month I pulled out January 1994 and re-read Phyllis Theroux's essay "On Keeping a Journal." Here are a few quotes that I find myself nodding to in agreement.

"There is no right or wrong way to keep a journal. The mind of the writer inevitably imposes itself upon the style."

"Some time ago, a friend of mine showed me a large trunkful of journals that had been written by his mother, the dutiful wife of a career diplomat. While she was alive, no one, not even her husband, knew they existed. Perhaps, I thought, one of the reasons she kept a journal, as she kept to her diplomatic rounds, was to remind herself that she existed, too."

"...the pages of one's journal are where the least self-conscious and most eloquent (although not necessarily most polished) voice is first found, which is why so many writers often keep one."

I've kept a journal since about 1989, with periodic writings before then. I don't write every day - it's not a diary. I'm opening those journals these days in writing my family's story, and there are things that make me laugh out loud, and others that make me weep. One thing that I wish I could tell my younger self is to be kinder to myself. 

Do you keep a journal? Or a diary? Do you go back and read your past writings? 

Scattered

After Tim's conference in Vancouver last week, we drove out to Chilliwack to see my family.  A beautiful white miniature rose plant was sitting on the dresser with a card - a gift from my parents. I've been admiring its creamy blossoms and thought they needed photographing. They might be used for the textures assignment for Donna's Personal Photo Challenge coming up on Saturday.
 

With all our gallivanting, I neglected to shout out a Happy Birthday to Eldest Daughter, who can visit now on her own blog, Dapple Design. My birthday, hers, and daughter-in-love Katie's fall within a two week period, so we usually celebrate together. This year's will be on Saturday.

In the photo, Cristal models an apron I sewed. I've stitched up a bunch of them for an upcoming craft fair, and to stock my Etsy shop. There are such fun fabrics out there. I want them ALL. But I can't. 
 

Early last year, Elizabeth of Cornish Cream contacted me about creating a custom blank journal for a friend of hers. We consulted via email and Skype. Green was the preferred colour, and she said her friend loved fritillarias. I confess I had to look up the flower, but now that I know its name, I've seen it growing around here in the spring, too. Does it grow in your area? For the journal I used the covers from an old cookbook, drilled the holes, inserted eyelets and stitched the covers with the pages in linen thread.

I've also re-stocked my Etsy shop with more blank journals.  Do you keep a journal? Blogging is a type of journaling, but I continue to fill blank pages with words as well. Some things are not meant for publication. Virginia Woolf referred to her journal writing as "this loose, drifting material of life..."

Yep. That about sums up my journal writing. And this post. Off to my sewing machine!