Povey Prattle

Peter Tchaikovsky was born on 7th May   in 1833 Johannes Brahms was born on 7th May in 1840 Evelyn Maud Finch (my mother) was born on 7th May 1913 in Lowestoft, Suffolk, U.K. Benjamin Britten was born in 1913 in Lowestoft, Suffolk, U.K. (Mum was born as Evelyn Maud Povey.  When she married my Dad she became Evelyn Maud Povey.  After his death she re-married, and became Evelyn Maud Woolcock.) Mum, a matter of months before her death in 2002   Johannes Brahms Peter Tchaikovsky  Benjamin Britten.  Lowestoft Harbour area. The drawbridge, left centre, (with a bit of blue at each end), is the only link between South and North Lowestoft.  When it is "up" traffic in the town grinds to an all embracing halt.     QUIZ:    What do Tchaikovsky, Britten, and John Michael Povey have in common?.

 Many of us have very likely taken a stick of hard butter from the fridge, and then softened it in a toaster/convection oven, set at "warm".     I did so today, forgetting that I  should have placed the butter in or on a china dish or plate.     My stick of hard butter was on a plastic plate:             Oh dearie me, that was not a good idea! 

The following is from my secondary health insurance provider, United Health Care.       What's your joyful noise? A whisper of gratitude for a stunning sunset? A belly laugh at a child's sweet silliness? A "Yes!" for a challenge mastered? No matter how you express it, you deserve and need joy in your life. And whatever its source — from a drowsy pup on your lap to a parchment diploma in your hand — it doesn't just feel fabulous. Blissful moments can also give your well-being a boost. What's joy got to do with it? Many activities that create feelings of happiness — being lively, joking around, helping others — can also have physical benefits, such as: Lower risk of illness Improved circulation and heart health A rise in feel-good endorphins Relief from stress and depression So for hea...

What a difference a days makes. On last Saturday afternoon I was in the screened -in porch, sipping some lemonade, reading a good book  ("Amsterdam" by Ian McEwan), watching the bids and the water-fowl (a crow chased off a pelican, who flopped down into the pond and caught a fish) , with  Penne my faithful friend lying at my side. I felt utter peace and contentment.  "It doesn't", I thought,  "get any better than this". Yesterday I was on the same Lanai, with another of McEwan's books ("Sweet Tooth"), a glass of water (lemonade all gone!), dearest Penne at my side.  An almost identical scenario. I felt utterly sorry for myself, and entirely woe-be-gone. Maybe it's because I am a Gemini.