Subject: Bali High
Date: Sun, 25 Jun 2000 19:19:33 EDT
People seem surprised to hear that I made seven trips to Australia between 1975-1995. I was 65 when I made my first journey down, just before Scott Graeme Lockhart made his world debut. Friends were leery that I was going down by myself at such an age, but I did not feel at all decrepit.
To offset the strain of the long trip, I started my practice of breaking the trip for a few days (the last flight was the only time I flew “straight through”). After flying from Philadelphia to Los Angeles, I stayed with friends in Pasadena. Another jaunt by air, then a second break in Tahiti.
Tahiti was incredibly beautiful. My hotel was inexpensive, but it was stunning. If I walked outside my room door, I was right on the beach. Oh, it was lovely. There was a dock. When I walked out to look around, there was a big pen of sharks. I beat a hasty retreat. I was not afraid of them, I just did not want to look at the ugly critters.
There is no describing the beauty of Tahiti - it is beyond description. The hill that rose behind my hotel was covered with flowering trees.
With all that beauty, it was still perhaps the loneliest time of my life. Gay & Willard had gone to Tahiti on one of their trips to Australia and Gay very much wanted me to see the island. She underwrote a bus trip around the island. The difference between her trip and mine was that her Own True Love was by her side. All that beauty made me miss Pete, who had just died the year before, and feel so alone with no one to share it with.
The loneliness was compounded because the Tahitians I had contact with tended to be very sullen and spoke French and very little English. Waiting for my plane to take off to Bali, my next stop, I went to buy a newspaper or a magazine - they were all in French. There was not even anyone in the airport - they all went home between the flights.
Now, Bali was another cup of tea. Unlike Tahiti, it was a British possession and everyone was friendly and beautiful. It seemed strange to hear the natives speaking impeccable English. I could have kissed each and every one of them. If you have ever seen the musical South Pacific, it captures the big smiles and friendliness that I experienced.
Love to all - KRL, world traveler
reposted with sweet memories of its author, KATHARINE REYNOLDS LOCKHART, by her scribe/daughter, Elsa Lockhart Murphy aka Deev in honor of the 05/14 centenary of her birth
Wednesday, June 30, 2010
Tuesday, June 29, 2010
JANNA ... 06/14/00
Subj: Janna Synnestvedt Glebe
Date: 6/14/00 9:17:41 PM Eastern Daylight Time
It rocked me to hear this morning of Janna Glebe's death last night. She was just a kid, in her late 60s. I instinctively called Elsa at work, who - sensing my sadness and turmoil - suggested I use the rest of the day to think of how Janna touched my life.
The first time I set eyes on Janna, she was around 3 years old and her aunt, Anita Synnestvedt, was taking care of her and brought her by Harold and Clara Pitcairn's for a paddle in their pool. I was enchanted.
As they grew up and throughout their lives, the two Synnestvedt girls - Freya and Janna - were good foils for each other. Freya was outgoing and daring, ready to climb trees that left manly men of 12 years old quaking. Janna was quieter and quietly wound her way into my heart.
Our paths crossed over and over and over. I was a friend of her parents and had the fun of watching her grow up. Later, we had daughters - my youngest, her oldest - in the same class throughout elementary school and high school. Most of the time, we lived on the same side of town. Many's the time I would walk past their house - perched up on sort of a little bluff overlooking Fettersmill Road - on my way to or from the Valley and would hear, "Hello, Kay!" from the drive or from the way-high-up porch.
Our husbands, relatively quiet men, always found plenty to talk about, what with Ted being a builder and carpenter, Pete a lumberman and cabinetmaker.
Recently, we participated in the same discussion group, although I had not been since last year. As recently as last month, Janna wrote and called me - she was kicking herself for not stopping by to see me, but had been "under the weather." Even though Freya recently told me her sister was not doing well, I thought she must be mistaken - Janna sounded so good to me on the phone.
From the moment I saw her pool-side at Cairncrest, I sensed something magical about Janna. It went beyond her artistic talents, which included creating exquisite elf-land sculptures that stole the heart with their beauty and charm. Remarkably talented with her hands, Janna was talented at carefully crafting friendships as well. She was remarkably self-effacing, able to deflect a well-earned compliment with a laugh and light comment. I felt that Janna had difficulty seeing the incredible special qualities that were so apparent to my eye.
An interesting thing about her - she never seemed to age. They say that only the good die young, but I think that is twisted 'round - the truth is that the good seem always young.
This loss has hit me hard. The only thing that makes this moment, when my sadness is so fresh, bearable is remembering how Willard closed Pete's memorial service and applying it to my friend, Janna - she was taken from us because the Lord has need of her.
Sending out a cosmic hug tonight to my dear and doubly-appreciated circle of friends.
Love to all - Kay
reposted in sweet memory of its author, KATHARINE REYNOLDS LOCKHART, by her scribe/daughter, Elsa Lockhart Murphy aka Deev, in celebration of the 05/14 centenary of Kay's birth
Date: 6/14/00 9:17:41 PM Eastern Daylight Time
It rocked me to hear this morning of Janna Glebe's death last night. She was just a kid, in her late 60s. I instinctively called Elsa at work, who - sensing my sadness and turmoil - suggested I use the rest of the day to think of how Janna touched my life.
The first time I set eyes on Janna, she was around 3 years old and her aunt, Anita Synnestvedt, was taking care of her and brought her by Harold and Clara Pitcairn's for a paddle in their pool. I was enchanted.
As they grew up and throughout their lives, the two Synnestvedt girls - Freya and Janna - were good foils for each other. Freya was outgoing and daring, ready to climb trees that left manly men of 12 years old quaking. Janna was quieter and quietly wound her way into my heart.
Our paths crossed over and over and over. I was a friend of her parents and had the fun of watching her grow up. Later, we had daughters - my youngest, her oldest - in the same class throughout elementary school and high school. Most of the time, we lived on the same side of town. Many's the time I would walk past their house - perched up on sort of a little bluff overlooking Fettersmill Road - on my way to or from the Valley and would hear, "Hello, Kay!" from the drive or from the way-high-up porch.
Our husbands, relatively quiet men, always found plenty to talk about, what with Ted being a builder and carpenter, Pete a lumberman and cabinetmaker.
Recently, we participated in the same discussion group, although I had not been since last year. As recently as last month, Janna wrote and called me - she was kicking herself for not stopping by to see me, but had been "under the weather." Even though Freya recently told me her sister was not doing well, I thought she must be mistaken - Janna sounded so good to me on the phone.
From the moment I saw her pool-side at Cairncrest, I sensed something magical about Janna. It went beyond her artistic talents, which included creating exquisite elf-land sculptures that stole the heart with their beauty and charm. Remarkably talented with her hands, Janna was talented at carefully crafting friendships as well. She was remarkably self-effacing, able to deflect a well-earned compliment with a laugh and light comment. I felt that Janna had difficulty seeing the incredible special qualities that were so apparent to my eye.
An interesting thing about her - she never seemed to age. They say that only the good die young, but I think that is twisted 'round - the truth is that the good seem always young.
This loss has hit me hard. The only thing that makes this moment, when my sadness is so fresh, bearable is remembering how Willard closed Pete's memorial service and applying it to my friend, Janna - she was taken from us because the Lord has need of her.
Sending out a cosmic hug tonight to my dear and doubly-appreciated circle of friends.
Love to all - Kay
reposted in sweet memory of its author, KATHARINE REYNOLDS LOCKHART, by her scribe/daughter, Elsa Lockhart Murphy aka Deev, in celebration of the 05/14 centenary of Kay's birth
Monday, June 28, 2010
THE RAIN IS RAINING... 06/14/00
Subject: "The rain is raining all around..."
Date: Mon, 12 Jun 2000 22:39:40 EDT
It certainly was today - a torrential thunder & lightning storm. In spite of the furious weather, I went with John to meet Elsa at Barnes & Noble/Willow Grove after work. It was worth it to see my daughter, who - knowing how skittish I have become over venturing out in bad weather - never dreamt that I would come along. She was practically agog helping me out of the car, the rain whipping all around.
What a pleasure to say, "I am not made of sugar, you know. I will not melt."
Very satisfying!
reposted with sweet memories of its author, KATHARINE REYNOLDS LOCKHART, by her scribe/daughter in honor of her 05/14 centenary
Date: Mon, 12 Jun 2000 22:39:40 EDT
It certainly was today - a torrential thunder & lightning storm. In spite of the furious weather, I went with John to meet Elsa at Barnes & Noble/Willow Grove after work. It was worth it to see my daughter, who - knowing how skittish I have become over venturing out in bad weather - never dreamt that I would come along. She was practically agog helping me out of the car, the rain whipping all around.
What a pleasure to say, "I am not made of sugar, you know. I will not melt."
Very satisfying!
reposted with sweet memories of its author, KATHARINE REYNOLDS LOCKHART, by her scribe/daughter in honor of her 05/14 centenary
TALL SHIPS 06/24/00
very strange - posted this yesterday, but apparently it's out in cyberspace. luckily, i posted copies onto scott & karen's fb pages. this was 06/28/10 posting, so look for two today (playing catch-up)...
Subject: Tall Ships
Date: Sat, 24 Jun 2000 21:10:06 EDT
The tall ships arrived in Philadelphia yesterday, setting off all sorts of wonderful memories. The pictures in the paper of rigging and billowing sails and nimble crews took me right back 15 years, to Australia's own Bicentennial celebration, which included two special sailing vessel events.
Sydney Harbour is, to my mind and most experts' minds, the most beautiful harbor in the world. It's geographical setting is without peer and the Opera House gives it cosmopolitan dash. A perfect setting for celebrating Australia Day and the drama of tall ships.
The five of us - Mike & Kerry, Scott & Karen, and "Nan" - packed up a picnic and found a great spot on Farm Cove. We had an excellent view of the harbor.
I don't remember how many ships were there, but then I was pretty stunned by the majesty of it all. The ship from Argentina stands out in my mind - it had at least 5 rows of sail on each mast. "Awesome" really is the best word to describe it.
We were there to see them off on their way. Oh, the sight of those great majestic ships working their way out of the harbor, past The Heads, to the open sea. If I could find the words to describe the images in my mind I would, but I cannot.
The other time we packed up a picnic and headed to Farm Cove was for the reenactment of the arrival of the First Fleet. Now, that is not the same as tall ships by any stroke of the imagination. They were much smaller, which made them, in some ways, all the more dramatic.
Imagine sailing all the way across the world on those smaller vessels. We practically went delirious when one of the ships anchored right in front of us. Any closer and we would have been sharing our picnic with them!
One look at the cover of the Weekend section of the Philadelphia Inquirer and I am a kid of 75 again, a world away, snug with the Down Under branch of our clan, with good food, great sights and a full heart.
Yo ho to one and all - Nan Lockhart
reposted in sweet memory of its author, KATHARINE REYNOLDS LOCKHART, by her scribe/daughter, Elsa Lockhart Murphy aka DEEV, in honor of the centenary of Nan's birth
Subject: Tall Ships
Date: Sat, 24 Jun 2000 21:10:06 EDT
The tall ships arrived in Philadelphia yesterday, setting off all sorts of wonderful memories. The pictures in the paper of rigging and billowing sails and nimble crews took me right back 15 years, to Australia's own Bicentennial celebration, which included two special sailing vessel events.
Sydney Harbour is, to my mind and most experts' minds, the most beautiful harbor in the world. It's geographical setting is without peer and the Opera House gives it cosmopolitan dash. A perfect setting for celebrating Australia Day and the drama of tall ships.
The five of us - Mike & Kerry, Scott & Karen, and "Nan" - packed up a picnic and found a great spot on Farm Cove. We had an excellent view of the harbor.
I don't remember how many ships were there, but then I was pretty stunned by the majesty of it all. The ship from Argentina stands out in my mind - it had at least 5 rows of sail on each mast. "Awesome" really is the best word to describe it.
We were there to see them off on their way. Oh, the sight of those great majestic ships working their way out of the harbor, past The Heads, to the open sea. If I could find the words to describe the images in my mind I would, but I cannot.
The other time we packed up a picnic and headed to Farm Cove was for the reenactment of the arrival of the First Fleet. Now, that is not the same as tall ships by any stroke of the imagination. They were much smaller, which made them, in some ways, all the more dramatic.
Imagine sailing all the way across the world on those smaller vessels. We practically went delirious when one of the ships anchored right in front of us. Any closer and we would have been sharing our picnic with them!
One look at the cover of the Weekend section of the Philadelphia Inquirer and I am a kid of 75 again, a world away, snug with the Down Under branch of our clan, with good food, great sights and a full heart.
Yo ho to one and all - Nan Lockhart
reposted in sweet memory of its author, KATHARINE REYNOLDS LOCKHART, by her scribe/daughter, Elsa Lockhart Murphy aka DEEV, in honor of the centenary of Nan's birth
Saturday, June 26, 2010
COMMUNICATION IN MARRIAGE 06/17/00
Subj: Communication in Marriage
Date: 6/17/00 8:21:26 PM Eastern Daylight Time
Today was lonely. John and Elsa were away from 8:30 a.m. to 5:30 p.m. at a seminar on communication in marriage. Knowing it would be a long and potentially depressing day for me, Elsa reviewed how to operate the CD player - and suggested that I think about my own experience with communication in marriage. Both suggestions were godsends and I was in pretty good spirits when they returned.
Pete & I were married long before the term "marriage enrichment" was coined. The thought of sitting around with other couples - including people we knew - to consider ways to deepen our relationship would have seemed strange. Of course, we also did not have the many distractions and challenges today's married couples face. Pete worked and I took care of the children. I did not consider myself suffocated, but in the fullness of my use. I remember many years back, a person who knew me through my political activities asked what I did, if I went out to work. I said, "Oh, no. I stay home and look after my house and children." She said, "Don't you resent that?" I said, "No, I enjoy it. I think I am lucky." I did and I still do.
Through the years, some family members dismissed the relationship I shared with Pete as a "fairy tale." In their eyes, he dominated and I cow-towed. The possibility that we genuinely were partners in every sense seemed hard for them to accept. I felt like they saw me as a squashed cabbage leaf.
Not so, not so. It is true that Pete & I did not fight, although we did disagree. There were certain things we did that helped keep our marriage on an even keel. If I was giving a seminar on communication in marriage, I would emphasize:
>> The power of having a shared faith.
Pete grew up Presbyterian and I was raised in the General Church of the New
Jerusalem, but as adults we came to believe in the same idea of God and the same principles of life. Having a shared faith is powerful stuff in a marriage.
>> The power of respect.
I have heard married couples bait and tear down each other for sport, then say "We are just kidding" or "But it is so lovely making up." In my experience, it is impossible to completely take back an unkind comment; each one leaves a scar, however small.
>> Shared life goals.
Pete loved our faith’s doctrine of use, which guided his life. I hope it has guided mine, even when it has not been the popular or profitable way to go. I recall the horror a family member expressed hearing that I had sold a prime piece of property, asking for only the original price plus the taxes we’d paid. "You OWED it to your children to get as much for it as you could." That was not how I saw it. We bought the lot for a rock bottom price, because the seller wanted to develop the area as an extension of Bryn Athyn; to me, the right thing to do was to pass that savings and intention along. I had one stipulation – that the lot be sold to a couple with young children. The family member did not agree with me, but I know Pete would have.
>> Treat each other like full partners.
Before Pete went into business for himself, he discussed it thoroughly with me. When the children were growing up, they had to come first in my time. When the business was starting and growing, it had to come first in his time. I never doubted that we both came first in each others' hearts.
>> Pray together.
Say grace with the family at dinnertime and prayers together at night. Give thanks everyday for something outside of the two of you.
>> Remember that love does not consist in looking at each other, but together in the same direction.
That is part of what I would say if I held a communication in marriage seminar. One thing I forgot – focus less in the importance of being married and more on marrying someone with whom there is true compatibility. Marry the wrong one, and life turns into a never-ending nightmare; marry the right one, and you will find that fairy tales can come true. It CAN happen to you!
Love to all on this hot, steamy early evening - Mrs. Raymond Lewis Lockhart
reposted in sweet memory of its author, KATHARINE REYNOLDS LOCKHART, by her scribe/daughter, Elsa Lockhart Murphy aka Deev to honor the centenary of Mom's 05/14 birth
Date: 6/17/00 8:21:26 PM Eastern Daylight Time
Today was lonely. John and Elsa were away from 8:30 a.m. to 5:30 p.m. at a seminar on communication in marriage. Knowing it would be a long and potentially depressing day for me, Elsa reviewed how to operate the CD player - and suggested that I think about my own experience with communication in marriage. Both suggestions were godsends and I was in pretty good spirits when they returned.
Pete & I were married long before the term "marriage enrichment" was coined. The thought of sitting around with other couples - including people we knew - to consider ways to deepen our relationship would have seemed strange. Of course, we also did not have the many distractions and challenges today's married couples face. Pete worked and I took care of the children. I did not consider myself suffocated, but in the fullness of my use. I remember many years back, a person who knew me through my political activities asked what I did, if I went out to work. I said, "Oh, no. I stay home and look after my house and children." She said, "Don't you resent that?" I said, "No, I enjoy it. I think I am lucky." I did and I still do.
Through the years, some family members dismissed the relationship I shared with Pete as a "fairy tale." In their eyes, he dominated and I cow-towed. The possibility that we genuinely were partners in every sense seemed hard for them to accept. I felt like they saw me as a squashed cabbage leaf.
Not so, not so. It is true that Pete & I did not fight, although we did disagree. There were certain things we did that helped keep our marriage on an even keel. If I was giving a seminar on communication in marriage, I would emphasize:
>> The power of having a shared faith.
Pete grew up Presbyterian and I was raised in the General Church of the New
Jerusalem, but as adults we came to believe in the same idea of God and the same principles of life. Having a shared faith is powerful stuff in a marriage.
>> The power of respect.
I have heard married couples bait and tear down each other for sport, then say "We are just kidding" or "But it is so lovely making up." In my experience, it is impossible to completely take back an unkind comment; each one leaves a scar, however small.
>> Shared life goals.
Pete loved our faith’s doctrine of use, which guided his life. I hope it has guided mine, even when it has not been the popular or profitable way to go. I recall the horror a family member expressed hearing that I had sold a prime piece of property, asking for only the original price plus the taxes we’d paid. "You OWED it to your children to get as much for it as you could." That was not how I saw it. We bought the lot for a rock bottom price, because the seller wanted to develop the area as an extension of Bryn Athyn; to me, the right thing to do was to pass that savings and intention along. I had one stipulation – that the lot be sold to a couple with young children. The family member did not agree with me, but I know Pete would have.
>> Treat each other like full partners.
Before Pete went into business for himself, he discussed it thoroughly with me. When the children were growing up, they had to come first in my time. When the business was starting and growing, it had to come first in his time. I never doubted that we both came first in each others' hearts.
>> Pray together.
Say grace with the family at dinnertime and prayers together at night. Give thanks everyday for something outside of the two of you.
>> Remember that love does not consist in looking at each other, but together in the same direction.
That is part of what I would say if I held a communication in marriage seminar. One thing I forgot – focus less in the importance of being married and more on marrying someone with whom there is true compatibility. Marry the wrong one, and life turns into a never-ending nightmare; marry the right one, and you will find that fairy tales can come true. It CAN happen to you!
Love to all on this hot, steamy early evening - Mrs. Raymond Lewis Lockhart
reposted in sweet memory of its author, KATHARINE REYNOLDS LOCKHART, by her scribe/daughter, Elsa Lockhart Murphy aka Deev to honor the centenary of Mom's 05/14 birth
Friday, June 25, 2010
R.L.S. 06/11/00
Subject: R.L.S.
Date: Tue, 13 Jun 2000 22:49:28 EDT
Sitting in Barnes & Noble yesterday, looking out at the downpour drenching the parking lot, brought to mind, "The rain is raining all around, it falls on field and tree, it falls on the umbrellas here, and on the ships at sea."
There is something special about Robert Lewis Stevenson’s poems. I dearly loved A Child’s Garden of Verses when I was little and they were read to me and I dearly loved it as a parent reading it to my own little ones and I dearly love it today. Sweet memories of getting lost in the words and in Jessie Wilcox Smith’s beautiful illustrations. I wish I knew where that book has rambled off to. The volume close at hand these days is one illustrated by Tasha Tudor. It is exquisite, but there is something in Jessie Wilcox Smith’s illustrations that will always call to my heart.
I cannot pass up the chance to share some of my favorite RLS poems with my special circle of loved ones. If I included all of my dearly beloveds, Elsa would be at the key board for several hours. These are especially dear to my heart. So many memories and so much loved wrapped up in each one.
Foreign Lands
Up into the cherry tree ~ Who should climb but little me? ~ I held the trunk with both my hands ~ And looked abroad on foreign lands
I saw the next door garden lie, ~ Adorned with flowers, before my eye, ~ And many pleasant places more ~ That I had never seen before.
I saw the dimpling river pass ~ And be the sky’s blue looking glass; ~ The
dusty roads go up and down ~ With people tramping into town.
If I could find a higher tree, ~ Farther and farther I should see; ~ to where the grown-up river slips ~ Into the sea among the ships.
To where the roads on either hand ~ Lead onward into fairy land, ~ Where all
the children dine at five, ~ And all the playthings come alive.
To Alison Cunningham, From Her Boy
(his dedication in "A Child’s Garden of Verses")
For the long nights you lay awake and watched for my unworthy sake;
For you most comfortable hand that led me through the uneven land;
For all the story-books you read; for all the pains you comforted;
For all you pitied, all you bore, in sad and happy days of yore: -
My second Mother, my first Wife, the angel of my infant life -
From the sick child, now well and old, take, nurse, the little book you hold.
And grant it, Heaven, that all who read may find as near a nurse at need,
And every child who lists my rhyme, in the bright, fireside, nursery clime,
May hear it in as kind a voice, as made my childhood days rejoice!
Bed In Summer
In winter I get up at night and dress by golden candle-light.
In summer, quite the other way, I have to go to bed by day.
I have to go to bed and see the birds still hopping on the tree,
And hear the grown-up people’s feet still going past me in the street.
And does it not seem hard to you, when all the sky is clear & blue,
And I should like so much to play, to have to go to bed by day?
At the Sea-side
When I was down beside the sea
A wooden spade they gave to me
To dig the sandy shore.
My holes were empty like a cup,
In every hole the sea came up,
Till it could come no more.
Windy Nights
Whenever the moon and stars are set
Whenever the wind is high,
All night long in the dark and wet,
A man goes riding by.
Late in the night when the fires are out,
Why does he gallop and gallop about?
Whenever the trees are crying aloud,
And the ships are tossed at sea,
By, on the highway, low and loud,
By at the gallop goes he.
By at the gallop he goes, and then,
By he comes back at the gallop again.
~ and my favorite of all ~
The Lamplighter
My tea is nearly ready and the sun has left the sky;
It’s time to take the window to see Leerie going by;
For every night at teatime and before you take your seat,
With lantern and with ladder he comes posting up the street.
Now Tom may be a driver and Maria go to sea,
And my papa’s a banker and as rich as he can be;
But I, when I am stronger and can choose what I'm to do,
Oh Leerie, I’ll go round at night and light the lamps with you.
For we are very lucky, with a lamp before the door,
And Leerie stops to light it as he lights so many more;
An Oh! Before you hurry by with ladder and with light,
Oh Leerie, see a little child and nod to him to-night!
I leave with you the short & sweet …
Time To Rise - -
A birdie with a yellow bill,
Hopped upon the window-sill,
Cocked his shining eye and said:
"Ain't you shamed, you sleepy head!"
Nite-nite & God bless. This sleepy head is ready to head up the wooden
hill!
Love to one & all (and a special hug to Nora) ~ Ma Lockhart
reposted with sweet memories of KATHARINE REYNOLDS LOCKHART, by her scribe/daughter in celebration of the centenary of her 05/14 birthday.
Date: Tue, 13 Jun 2000 22:49:28 EDT
Sitting in Barnes & Noble yesterday, looking out at the downpour drenching the parking lot, brought to mind, "The rain is raining all around, it falls on field and tree, it falls on the umbrellas here, and on the ships at sea."
There is something special about Robert Lewis Stevenson’s poems. I dearly loved A Child’s Garden of Verses when I was little and they were read to me and I dearly loved it as a parent reading it to my own little ones and I dearly love it today. Sweet memories of getting lost in the words and in Jessie Wilcox Smith’s beautiful illustrations. I wish I knew where that book has rambled off to. The volume close at hand these days is one illustrated by Tasha Tudor. It is exquisite, but there is something in Jessie Wilcox Smith’s illustrations that will always call to my heart.
I cannot pass up the chance to share some of my favorite RLS poems with my special circle of loved ones. If I included all of my dearly beloveds, Elsa would be at the key board for several hours. These are especially dear to my heart. So many memories and so much loved wrapped up in each one.
Foreign Lands
Up into the cherry tree ~ Who should climb but little me? ~ I held the trunk with both my hands ~ And looked abroad on foreign lands
I saw the next door garden lie, ~ Adorned with flowers, before my eye, ~ And many pleasant places more ~ That I had never seen before.
I saw the dimpling river pass ~ And be the sky’s blue looking glass; ~ The
dusty roads go up and down ~ With people tramping into town.
If I could find a higher tree, ~ Farther and farther I should see; ~ to where the grown-up river slips ~ Into the sea among the ships.
To where the roads on either hand ~ Lead onward into fairy land, ~ Where all
the children dine at five, ~ And all the playthings come alive.
To Alison Cunningham, From Her Boy
(his dedication in "A Child’s Garden of Verses")
For the long nights you lay awake and watched for my unworthy sake;
For you most comfortable hand that led me through the uneven land;
For all the story-books you read; for all the pains you comforted;
For all you pitied, all you bore, in sad and happy days of yore: -
My second Mother, my first Wife, the angel of my infant life -
From the sick child, now well and old, take, nurse, the little book you hold.
And grant it, Heaven, that all who read may find as near a nurse at need,
And every child who lists my rhyme, in the bright, fireside, nursery clime,
May hear it in as kind a voice, as made my childhood days rejoice!
Bed In Summer
In winter I get up at night and dress by golden candle-light.
In summer, quite the other way, I have to go to bed by day.
I have to go to bed and see the birds still hopping on the tree,
And hear the grown-up people’s feet still going past me in the street.
And does it not seem hard to you, when all the sky is clear & blue,
And I should like so much to play, to have to go to bed by day?
At the Sea-side
When I was down beside the sea
A wooden spade they gave to me
To dig the sandy shore.
My holes were empty like a cup,
In every hole the sea came up,
Till it could come no more.
Windy Nights
Whenever the moon and stars are set
Whenever the wind is high,
All night long in the dark and wet,
A man goes riding by.
Late in the night when the fires are out,
Why does he gallop and gallop about?
Whenever the trees are crying aloud,
And the ships are tossed at sea,
By, on the highway, low and loud,
By at the gallop goes he.
By at the gallop he goes, and then,
By he comes back at the gallop again.
~ and my favorite of all ~
The Lamplighter
My tea is nearly ready and the sun has left the sky;
It’s time to take the window to see Leerie going by;
For every night at teatime and before you take your seat,
With lantern and with ladder he comes posting up the street.
Now Tom may be a driver and Maria go to sea,
And my papa’s a banker and as rich as he can be;
But I, when I am stronger and can choose what I'm to do,
Oh Leerie, I’ll go round at night and light the lamps with you.
For we are very lucky, with a lamp before the door,
And Leerie stops to light it as he lights so many more;
An Oh! Before you hurry by with ladder and with light,
Oh Leerie, see a little child and nod to him to-night!
I leave with you the short & sweet …
Time To Rise - -
A birdie with a yellow bill,
Hopped upon the window-sill,
Cocked his shining eye and said:
"Ain't you shamed, you sleepy head!"
Nite-nite & God bless. This sleepy head is ready to head up the wooden
hill!
Love to one & all (and a special hug to Nora) ~ Ma Lockhart
reposted with sweet memories of KATHARINE REYNOLDS LOCKHART, by her scribe/daughter in celebration of the centenary of her 05/14 birthday.
Thursday, June 24, 2010
CONSIDER YOURSELF AT HOME 06/26/00
Subject: Consider yourself at home
Date: Mon, 26 Jun 2000 21:16:40 EDT
The descent into Sydney is always exciting, but the first time you experience it is beyond description. We came in over Manley, which is like a little peninsula that stretches out into the harbor; you have to go over it to get to the harbor. I remember being fascinated by the red roofs. I remember being awed by the beauty of Sydney Harbour, a sensation I never lost. I was practically leaping out of my skin with excitement over being in Australia and the thought of seeing Mike & Kerry.
I did not think I would be able to restrain myself while going through customs. I wanted to be out of there and into my family's arms. At last I was free and spotted Mike & Kerry. Mike was so happy to see his dear old Mum, he literally swept me off my feet. Kerry looked beautiful – and very pregnant. All three of us were happy as dickey birds.
I arrived Down Under a month before the anticipated birth so that I could get down the routine of the house. They were living in Paddington at the time, a charming neighborhood with "Federal" houses of red brick trimmed with white wood. As I recall, there were beautiful wrought iron railings that made it reminiscent of pictures I have seen of New Orleans. .
Scott was born at what they call a laying-in hospital - dedicated to birthing. Australia is often more advanced than the USA in its medical practices (they do not have to fuss around with the AMA) and this hospital was no exception. I remember how much I liked it and the staff. It was so exciting to hold my grandson and even more to watch Mike holding his son. It made me miss Pete, in a sad but wonderful way.
When my children were born, the dad was not allowed in the delivery room and babies were brought to Mom according to schedule. For one of my children's births, I had a roommate. She had just finished feeding her baby and her husband was watching her and picked up his little bitty baby. One of the nurses came in, dressed him down and took the baby away. She really let him have it. He was in total disbelief - "What is the matter? I am not dirty." But the nurse would not budge.
Not so with Scott's birth. I remember Kerry asking me if I wanted to hold him, because I was making such a big fuss over him. I protested that the nurses would not let him, but Kerry set me right, pointing out that he was her baby and she said I could hold him. What happiness!
When Kerry and Mike brought their bouncing baby boy home, I was there to be a delighted chief cook and bottle washer. For a month, Kerry could just take it easy and let me take care of the house. It felt so good. I had not been needed like that since Pete died and it nourished my soul. I remember one of her friends dropping by and asking her what she was planning for dinner. Kerry tossed off her reply - "I haven't had to think about a meal in a month." The friend looked at me and said, "When you're through here, will you come over to my house?" And I think she meant it!
What lovely memories to take with me to my slumbers. Love to all - Mum/Nan
reposted in sweet memory of its author, KATHARINE REYNOLDS LOCKHART, by her scribe/daughter, Elsa Lockhart Murphy aka Deev in honor of the centenary of Mum's 05/16 birthday
Date: Mon, 26 Jun 2000 21:16:40 EDT
The descent into Sydney is always exciting, but the first time you experience it is beyond description. We came in over Manley, which is like a little peninsula that stretches out into the harbor; you have to go over it to get to the harbor. I remember being fascinated by the red roofs. I remember being awed by the beauty of Sydney Harbour, a sensation I never lost. I was practically leaping out of my skin with excitement over being in Australia and the thought of seeing Mike & Kerry.
I did not think I would be able to restrain myself while going through customs. I wanted to be out of there and into my family's arms. At last I was free and spotted Mike & Kerry. Mike was so happy to see his dear old Mum, he literally swept me off my feet. Kerry looked beautiful – and very pregnant. All three of us were happy as dickey birds.
I arrived Down Under a month before the anticipated birth so that I could get down the routine of the house. They were living in Paddington at the time, a charming neighborhood with "Federal" houses of red brick trimmed with white wood. As I recall, there were beautiful wrought iron railings that made it reminiscent of pictures I have seen of New Orleans. .
Scott was born at what they call a laying-in hospital - dedicated to birthing. Australia is often more advanced than the USA in its medical practices (they do not have to fuss around with the AMA) and this hospital was no exception. I remember how much I liked it and the staff. It was so exciting to hold my grandson and even more to watch Mike holding his son. It made me miss Pete, in a sad but wonderful way.
When my children were born, the dad was not allowed in the delivery room and babies were brought to Mom according to schedule. For one of my children's births, I had a roommate. She had just finished feeding her baby and her husband was watching her and picked up his little bitty baby. One of the nurses came in, dressed him down and took the baby away. She really let him have it. He was in total disbelief - "What is the matter? I am not dirty." But the nurse would not budge.
Not so with Scott's birth. I remember Kerry asking me if I wanted to hold him, because I was making such a big fuss over him. I protested that the nurses would not let him, but Kerry set me right, pointing out that he was her baby and she said I could hold him. What happiness!
When Kerry and Mike brought their bouncing baby boy home, I was there to be a delighted chief cook and bottle washer. For a month, Kerry could just take it easy and let me take care of the house. It felt so good. I had not been needed like that since Pete died and it nourished my soul. I remember one of her friends dropping by and asking her what she was planning for dinner. Kerry tossed off her reply - "I haven't had to think about a meal in a month." The friend looked at me and said, "When you're through here, will you come over to my house?" And I think she meant it!
What lovely memories to take with me to my slumbers. Love to all - Mum/Nan
reposted in sweet memory of its author, KATHARINE REYNOLDS LOCKHART, by her scribe/daughter, Elsa Lockhart Murphy aka Deev in honor of the centenary of Mum's 05/16 birthday
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
