The Glory of the Garden by Rudyard Kipling

Our England is a garden that is full of stately views,
Of borders, beds and shrubberies and lawns and avenues,
With statues on the terraces and peacocks strutting by;
But the Glory of the Garden lies in more than meets the eye.

For where the old thick laurels grow, along the thin red wall,
You’ll find the tool and potting-sheds which are the heart of all,
The cold frames and the hot-houses, the dungpits and the tanks,
The rollers, carts and drain-pipes, with the barrow and the planks.

And there you’ll see the gardeners, the men and ‘prentice boys
Told off to do as they are bid and do it without noise;
For, except when seeds are planted and we shout to scare the birds,
The Glory of the Garden it abideth not in words.

And some can pot begonias and some can bud a rose,
And some are hardly fit to trust with anything that grows;
But they can roll and turn the lawns and sift the sand and loam,
For the Glory of the Garden occupieth all who come.

Our England is a garden, and such gardens are not made
By singing:- ‘Oh, how beautiful, and sitting in the shade,
While better men than we go out and start their working lives
At grubbing weeds from gravel paths with broken dinner knives.

There’s not a pair of legs so thin, there’s not a head so thick,
There’s not a hand so weak and white, nor yet a heart so sick,
But it can find some needful job that’s crying to be done,
For the Glory of the Garden glorifieth every one.

Then seek your job with thankfullness and work till further orders,
If it’s only netting strawberries or killing slugs on borders;
And when your back stops aching and your hands begin to harden,
You will find yourself a partner in the Glory of the Garden.

Oh, Adam was a gardener, and God who made him sees
That half a proper gardener’s work is done upon his knees.
So when your work is finished, you can wash your hands and pray
For the Glory of the Garden that it may not pass away!
And the Glory of the Garden it shall never pass away!


And now to some current views around my garden (I am still not happy with the way 'blogger in draft' place my photographs. They seem to do the opposite to what I want - takes forever.)I may have to change back.

Have not been able to spend too much time working in the garden recently as we are having a heat wave. With the forecast for 88 degrees last weekend (and that is always in the shade) it was into the 90's outside. On the plus side we have been eating all our meals outside which is nice as we are a bit confined at present.

The birds love their daily bath

The above group of rose pictures were taken at night

You might like to click here and view my post on Rudyard Kipling's own garden.

Never Too Late

Believe it or not I have had a hard time coming to terms with getting older. I know that I am blessed with health and strength but since turning 70 in 2008 I have struggled with this issue. I know that my time is in God's hands and that my life has been full and rewarding but I have become so aware of how quickly time passes and that there is not a thing we can do about this. Interestingly I had a hard time facing 50 but sailed through facing 60 without a thought. Maybe 80 will be fine!!

Time passing gives one a greater sense of living in the now and appreciating each moment but I am having to learn acceptance of what is, too. There is so much to be grateful for, family, friends and the blessing of faith amongst them. I don't know what new activities are still to come my way but here are a few from recent years.

Learning to sail at 60

Interestingly I was the only one in that lesson that managed to tack across the current and wind and make my way between two pontoons successfully

My first attempts at Archery at 60

Not forgetting sledging down my road at 70

I had my first riding lessons at 42 but have no photos to prove it

and in my mid-fifties studied Psychology at degree level

Clambering up and down and under and over the assault courses with Oliver in the park has now become a norm

So........... what's next? No, I will not learn to play golf - that's hubby's department

let's wait and see!

I had the following piece of writing given to me on my 70th birthday by a friend who knew of my struggle. It was stitched in fine silk on silk and aptly says:

LIFE'S CLOCK

The clock of life is wound but once,

And no man has the power

To tell just where the hands will stop

At late or early hour.

To lose one's wealth is sad indeed,

To lose one's health is more,

To lose one's soul is such a loss,

As no man can restore.

The present only is our own

Live, love, toil with a will-

Place no faith in tomorrow - for

The clock may then be still.

Behind My Life

I do not make New Year resolutions but felt it wise to remind myself of this poem and share it here with you.


Behind my life, the Weaver stands
And works His wonderous Will.
I leave it in His all-wise hand
And trust His perfect skill.

Should mystery enshroud His plan
And my short sight be dim,
I will not try the whole to scan,
But leave each thread with Him.

Not till the loom is silent,
And the shuttles cease to fly,
Shall God unfold the pattern
And explain the reason why.

The dark threads were as needful
In the Master's skillful hand,
As the threads of gold and silver
In the pattern which He planned.

Author Unknown

Praying in 2010

Ring Out, Wild Bells

Ring out, wild bells, to the wild sky,

The flying cloud, the frosty light;

The year is dying in the night;

Ring out, wild bells, and let him die.

Ring out the old, ring in the new,

Ring, happy bells, across the snow:

The year is going, let him go;

Ring out the false, ring in the true.

Ring out the grief that saps the mind,

For those that here we see no more,

Ring out the feud of rich and poor,

Ring in redress to all mankind.

Ring out a slowly dying cause,

And ancient forms of party strife;

Ring in the nobler modes of life,

With sweeter manners, purer laws.

Ring out the want, the care, the sin,

The faithless coldness of the times;

Ring out, ring out my mournful rhymes,

But ring the fuller minstrel in.

Ring out false pride in place and blood,

The civic slander and the spite;

Ring in the love of truth and right,

Ring in the common love of good.

Ring out old shapes of foul disease,

Ring out the narrowing lust of gold;

Ring out the thousand wars of old,

Ring in the thousand years of peace.

Ring in the valiant man and free,

The larger heart, the kindlier hand;

Ring out the darkness of the land,

Ring in the Christ that is to be.

Alfred, Lord Tennyson

This poem written by Tennyson so long ago is still appropriate for today, my reason for posting it here.

So Happy New Year to all who visit as we look ahead into 2010

Sitting here at my desk this first morning of the new year I am overwhelmed at the goodness of God through yet another year. I am particularly thankful for the opportunity afforded me to see the new year in, in the way that we do.

We began at 7.0 pm meeting next door with about 30 neighbours who are part of our house church set up. We ate a delicious meal together - either chicken or salmon served with a six vegetable cheese topped crumble,roasted tomatoes and new potatoes, followed by a delicious mix of deserts.

This was followed by a mixture of silly party games. We were divided into teams and given a roll of Christmas wrapping paper, a few decorations and a roll of cellotape with which to make something resembling a Christmas tree! The one seen here was the most elaborate but they did not win as they 'stole' other bits and pieces from around the house to enhance their ensemble. Very good effort though.

Here we see the winner!

Our team did not do well with our tree - our roll of cellotape did not work - you know the type, you just cannot find the end! However we did manage to make a tripod stand with the cardboard inside the roll of paper.

As we moved later into the evening with games over, we moved into a time of waiting on God for new revelation for the new year before a time of praise, worship and prayer. We were so taken up with exhalting our Saviour we were totally unaware that we had moved into 2010 until about 12.10 am. After a time of hugging and greeting each other it was time to go home.

For me the end of a blessed time was to momentarily revisit the old year by phoning my dear blogging friend Sara in California.

An Update in Spring

Would You Believe It

Would you believe it? It's happened again
the gold hazel catkins are out in the lane.
The crocuses making bright lakes in the grass
ripple like waves as the stormy winds pass.


The chiffchaff is building. The aconites glow
like stars in the woods where the swelling brooks flow.
The winter is passing. I sense on the breeze
the stirring of life in the roots and the trees.


The daffodils eager to dance into view
are poised and are ready, awaiting their cue.
The spirit of Springtime has tapped on the pane.
Would you believe it? It's happening again.
Patience Strong

Yes, I am still here not having posted for over a week. Life has been pretty hectic in many ways - various committments, family etc. and not to mention a spell of decorating that turned into a nightmare. More on this later in the week.

Could not resist the above Spring poem as we are having some beautiful spring weather 60f in March! As in the poem the crocuses and Hazel catkins are thriving in the garden and just as the poem says, the daffodils are poised and waiting their cue.

This of course means that I need to be out there pruning and weeding big time while the weather, which is forecast to last a few more days, is so warm and inviting.

Today I was at a four and a half hour business meeting at Pilgrims Hall and we stopped for a quick lunch taken out on the terrace and it was a joy to feel warm sun on bare arms.

So while Alan continues with the decorating I will leave the household chores and see what impression I can make outside before another day caring for Grandson Oliver on Friday. My daughter Janie is now on maternity leave so has been able to return to posting on her blog http://www.fromunderthemaple.blogspot.com/ Our week will culminate in a friend's birthday celebration on Saturday before embarking on another full week next week.

Before taking my leave - I received this 'Friends' award from Andrea of A Parson's Wife. I know that all kinds of 'rules' are sent with these awards and I am honoured and grateful to Andrea for her kind words and truly appreciate her friendship but I am sure these 'rules' get changed along the way. I have already in the past received this award and have passed it on, so instead of the 8 people suggested on Andrea's blog, I am sending this on to one friend, Sara of Much Ado About Something (even although I know that many precious friendships have developed in blogland) because Sara has become a special friend in many ways and there is so much about her blog and life that I appreciate.

Bedside Table Challenge

A Woman Who Is has come up with a 'bedside table' challenge. In other words photographing the books that you presently have on your bedside table. So having agreed to do this here are the pics.

I will work from left to right.

Praised Voices - Compiled by Chris Walton. Over 90 Christian writers from all walks of life have come together from all over the world, to spread the good word through their poetry. My own poem 'The Mind of God' is included in this collection and was awarded the distinction of 'Editor's Choice'.

The Fables of Aesop These and the rest of the brief allegorical tales known for over 2500 years as Aesop's Fables are not just children's stories, but a vital part of our culture says the editor.

The Prayer of Jabez by Bruce Wilkinson. A study on the prayer of Jabez in

1 Chronicles 4:10

Summit Living - Selected Daily Readings of the late Norman Grubb, missionary and one of the founders of WEC International and the son-in-law of C.T. Studd and also a friend of ours.

Speaking to the Heart by Sister Wendy Beckett. A collection of 100 poems of wonder, love, sorrow, laughter, longing, prayer and hope that speak directly to the heart - each with a short introduction.

Mama Tina by Christina Noble. The inspiring sequel to Bridge Across My Sorrows where Christina wrote about the story of her early life as a Dublin street-child. In 1989, driven by a dream and by the memory of her own past, she travelled 6,000 miles to Vietnam. Against extraordinary odds, she opened the Christina Noble Children's Foundation, a haven of food, beds, medical aid and schooling for the street children of Saigon.

At Home with the Queen by Brian Hoey. Life Through the Keyhole of the Royal Household.

After Midnight by Susan Sallis. A sequel to The Pumpkin Coach.One of my favourite contemporary English novelists.

BATEMAN'S - Rudyard Kiplings Home

On a recent day out we managed to visit 3 National Trust venues and the lovely village of Burwash. The reason we could manage so much in one day is because we have visited all of these places before so we were going over familiar ground.

For this post we are visiting Bateman's, the home of Rudyard Kipling.

Rudyard Kipling described Bateman's, his family home from 1902 - 1936, as "a real home to settle down for keeps" . Built in 1634 of the local sandstone, this dignified home excuded the calm tranquility Kipling needed to write, and the gardens and surrounding countryside became the inspiration for much of his work.

Today the house is shown as it was in his time, filled with the traces and memories of his extraordinary life and work. His study overlooks the Dudwell Valley and it was here that he wrote 'Puck of Pook's Hill' and 'Rewards and Fairies'.

My own childhood memories of Kipling were through the Jungle Books which I Ioved and my favourite poem of his is "IF". This poem was voted Britain's favourite a couple of years back.

The House from the front lawn

followed by views from different angles

amongst the formal gardens

Kipling designed and built this pond after winning The Nobel Prize for literature

See the Oust House to the left

These were used as a free standing Kiln for drying Hops

This one has had a Dovecote placed on the top and it is now part of the Gift shop

The Orchard

Some views of the Wild Garden

The Gift shop

Kiplings 1928 Rolls Royce

There was a lot of reflection on the glass surround to get a good picture

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Rudyard_Kipling

IF

If you can keep your head when all about you
Are losing theirs and blaming it on you,
If you can trust yourself when all men doubt you,
But make allowance for their doubting too;
If you can wait and not be tired by waiting,
Or being lied about don't deal in lies,
Or being hated, don't give way to hating,
And yet don't look too good, nor talk too wise:

If you can dream - and not make dreams your master;
If you can think - and not make thoughts your aim;
If you can meet with Triumph and Disaster
And treat those two impostors just the same;
If you can bear to hear the truth you've spoken
Twisted by knaves to make a trap for fools,
Or watch the things you gave your life to, broken,
And stood and build 'em up with worn-out tools:

If you can make one heap of all your winnings
And risk it on one turn of pitch-and-toss,
And lose, and start again at your beginnings
And never breathe a word about your loss;
If you can force your heart and nerve and sinew
To serve your turn long after they are gone,
And so hold on when there is nothing in you
Except the Will which says to them: 'Hold on!'

If you can walk with crowds and keep your virtue,
Or walk with Kings - nor lose the common touch,
If neither foes nor loving friends can hurt you,
If all men count with you, but none too much;
If you can fill the unforgiving minute
With sixty seconds worth of distance run,
Yours is the Earth and everything that's in it,
And - which is more - you'll be a Man, my son!
by Rudyard Kipling

Kipling never got over the death of his son having got special permission for him to be accepted into the army (even though he had been rejected initially because of poor eyesight)

He was traumatised to learn of the death of his son while fighting in World War I

This was portrayed vividly in the recent film

My Boy Jack