A Garden Plan and a Typewriter...

 

Every garden needs a plan.  Right?  Or at least, Elizabeth from Elizabeth and Her German Garden thought so.  She once wrote, "I was forever making plans, and if nothing came of them, what did it matter?  The mere making had been a joy."  

What a blessing it is to love books.  Everybody must love something, and I know of no objects of love that give such substantial and unfailing returns as books and a garden. 

When I got to the library I came to a standstill. -Oh, the dear room, what happy times I have spent in it rummaging amongst the books, making plans for my garden, building castles in the air, writing, dreaming, doing nothing.    

~ Elizabeth von Arnim 

  

 

 The typing in my Journal of Quotations is being done on my electric Royal Scripter typewriter that I bought when I broke my wrist a few years ago.  I enjoy the typing, even though I learned the skill on manual machines in two years of typing classes.  These were my favorite high school classes, made even better since they were taught by my absolute favorite teacher of all.  

So, for quite a while, I have been watching typewriters on eBay.  The one listed below ended a few days ago.  I loved this one and it was just what I had dreamed of owning.  I didn't even place a bid, but now I almost wish I had.  Undoubtedly, I wouldn't have won the auction, but it would have been worth a try.  There were a total of over 60 bids, ending at $355.  The shipping was free.  

 

"If you are looking for a special writing companion, then this just may be your writing soulmate.  A stunning example of a 1937 Royal De Luxe (Model A).  The glass-topped key strokes on this Royal queen are snappy, confident and yield a consistent print in an elite font.  Obviously, this typewriter was not overly used as there is little to no wear anywhere to be found and it is near spotless inside and out.  A newly inked black and red nylon ribbon has been installed onto the original Royal metal spools.  There is an original user manual..."

"However, true love does not occur until the first keystroke.  It's something that has to be experienced to be fully appreciated.  For the serious writer, there are no disappointments with this particular writing companion.  It has been completely serviced, properly lubricated and is ready to write.  Its condition is as close to being brand new from 1937 as could possibly be for an 87-year-old mechanical writing machine.  This is a stunning example of this rare model from a most pivotal time in American history."

And, finally...  We have new barn kitties.  Four of them.  They lost their mother, so we took them all in.  They will be sweet, but not yet!  I love them, anyway!  (Note:  I can stroke, from the head to the tip of the tail, three out of the four.  The black and white one is still afraid. Another little black one doesn't show up well in the picture.)

A Cooler Morning Walk...

 

What a glorious morning it was for a walk up and over The Hill.  It was a cool 55 degrees when on this 844th consecutive day, we put on jackets and boots and grabbed the sticks.  How long it seems since we had temperatures  so cool!  My leaf-dyed trail jacket, which you'll probably remember from the previous year, was the perfect weight and thickness for the walk up and over.

Millie wore the same coat she always wears, but it's, never the less, a fine one that resembles my trail jacket somewhat, I think.  It has been a bit too warm for her on the oh-so-many long hot days of summer, but for today she seemed to think it was just perfect.

It's always fun to have company show up along the way.  This morning, we found our guy waiting on us near the pond.  He offered us a ride, but we declined, preferring the walk on such a beautiful day.  

 

A little cloth-covered notebook that my daughter gave me a couple of Christmases ago has become a book of favorite quotes.  I have included several quotes by Marcus Aurelius and other old Stoics, of which I will share here later.      

"It was full upon the Northern Hemisphere..."

 

"The happening was migration.  It was full upon the Northern Hemisphere.  The shorter hours of sunlight and lowering temperatures were telling millions of birds to go south.  The event had begun in mid-August.  The loons, geese ducks, and shorebirds had heard the message and had left the barrens of Alaska and Canada.  A few days later the swallows and swifts felt the change and left the Northeast.

And then it happened.  Frightful hopped from limb to limb until she reached the wispy top of the ancient hemlock.  She turned her head slowly as she took a bearing on the sun's rays.  She fixed on a longitude between ninety and seventy degrees.  After many takes, the direction was indelibly printed on her brain.  She pointed her head and body along the invisible line.  She bent her knees and ankles.  She lowered her wings"

~Jean Craighead George, Frightful's Mountain