“I don’t think of all the misery, but of the beauty that still remains” - Anne Frank
Firstly: I’ve moved the release date of the Beagle to the first week on the month rather than the last. It will always land on a Friday. I can then point you to events or seasonal ideas beforehand. Secondly: my shop is coming soon. My hubby and I have been choosing samples, sourcing the right supplier. I want to be 100% satisfied with the end result so that you get the very best quality pieces. Thirdly: I’ve designed a free downloadable calendar page just for you. Print at home if you have a good printer or take it to a shop where they make prints. Simply click HERE or on the image to receive your page. This pdf is password protected and you need to be a Beagle Monthly member to access. Join up via the link on the home page and the code will be sent to you. You can leave at any time.
Lastly: next month will be the Beagle's 1 year anniversary! I am going to be giving a special giveaway to celebrate so keep a look out for that.
Really lastly: If you enjoy the Beagle would you please consider sharing about it any which way you can? Whether that's social media, email, word of mouth or carrier pigeon. I offer this for free as an encouragement to others but really want to reach as many people as possible. If you were to help me that would mean a lot : )
Artists: The ‘new’ Vemeer. Comic artist Lunarbaboon. Austin Kleon and his pandemic prayers.
Giveaway: October calendar page.
Dallas Jenkins; destiny from disaster.
Watching: Larkrise To Candleford. Tokyo Story.
Poetry: The Darkling Thrush, Thomas Hardy
Books: Sarah Clarkson. Help, I’m Drowning. Digital Minimalism. The Castle On The Hill.
Music: Bejamin Gordon. Andy Squyres. BFB monthly Playlist.
Recipe: Chicken Parmigiana.
Adventuring: Lindisfarne, The Holy Island.
Photographer: The water lily harvest in Vietnam, by Trung Huy Pham.
What’s on my iPhone? Did you know I link every book, film, recipe etc in the Beagle? Where you see words highlighted, simply click the link.
A big warm welcome around a steaming pot of tea to my new Beagle friends. Many of you landed here via my giveaway with dear friend Sally Clarkson. I’ve known Sally for almost seven years and have been involved with encouraging mum’s with her in the UK. I recorded a fun podcast with Sally before she went back to the States for hip surgery: Beauty: A Profound Anchor In The Storms of Life. You’ll hear more about our friendship as we giggle, and also talk about the importance of initiating in friendships. I’m no Pollyanna but you’ll find me seeking beauty, truth, goodness while grasping the nettle at the same time. We wrestle with life and sometimes with God but I think we can learn to wrestle well, like the Psalmist. There’s hope in the hurting. I hope you find this a place of kindred spirits. I’ve shared previously about why I create the Beagle before if you’d like to know more. This is my death-defying work!
The pathway which leads to our front door is currently strewn with windfall apples. I really must gather them in for compost but the fragrance of ‘apple cider’ as I walk it each day is quite comforting. We also have a hazelnut tree which has been enthusiastically sharing its seed pods, they resemble something you’d find in a rock-pool with their many curving tentacles. The squirrels will be sad to discover that the street sweeper came this morning and happily gobbled them all up though. Well, here we are friends, entering autumn. There’s so much to love about this time of year, though I feel a little crest fallen. The summer seemed too short, lockdown so long, I find myself longing for length of days and sun-kissed walks a little longer. I know this is natural, I can’t be the only one? Like the natural seasons we’re in a time of transition in our home. I’m a recently graduated Home Educator, my sixteen year old once about the house is now off to college each week. I’m like a teenager again with a world of opportunity before me. This in-between, is in itself a season tucked amongst the folds of seasons. At times I’ve felt a little suspended, adrift in space like the Apollo mission entering the dark side of the moon. Transitions can feel like that, yet transitions are hallways, and in and of themselves a space we inhabit. We do come out the other side. Beyond the seeing of the eye or the hearing of the ear we are tethered and being carried along in a greater ongoing story. It’s natural in the unknown to cry, “My God, my God, why have you abandoned me?”. For the moment we are in the middle, we are the caterpillar soup that precedes the emerging butterfly. If anyone were to look inside a chrysalis midway they’d wonder if there was anything of worth in there. There’s a lot of creative work going on in the mess! What we think looks untidy, like loose ends, could actually be the midpoint between death and resurrection.
“In winter I believe you, in springtime I see you . . . my hope has come” Cherry Blossom, Andy Squyres