A New Home

It’s strange, but, as soon as I let go of my old home online, my vision for a new home became clear.

There will be books, there will be knitting, there will be music, there will be art, and of course there will be a border terrier.

There will be just the one project – I couldn’t let go of my 100 Years of Books Project – but there will be nothing else like that – no grand plans, no lists, no targets. I found them difficult to resist in the past, but I took on too much, and I tried to be too many things to too many people.

So now it will be simply what I want to write about, what I want to share, at any particular point in time.

I don’t know how often, or how regular, that will be – time will tell.

What I really want to to catch the interesting things on life without losing my closeness to those things

I’d love company – and one of the main reasons why I’m still here is that are so many people out there  I’ve never met, and may never meet, but want to keep in my life.

Thank you for that.

* * * * * * *

You may be wondering where my new name came from.

It came from a lovely poem by the Cornish poet Charles Causely, and when I read it for the first time in a long time, a few months ago, I knew that it was right.

I hope that you’ll think so too.

(c) Southampton City Art Gallery; Supplied by The Public Catalogue Foundation

They are waiting for me somewhere beyond Eden Rock:
My father, twenty-five, in the same suit
Of Genuine Irish Tweed, his terrier Jack
Still two years old and trembling at his feet.

My mother, twenty-three, in a sprigged dress
Drawn at the waist, ribbon in her straw hat,
Has spread the stiff white cloth over the grass.
Her hair, the colour of wheat, takes on the light.

She pours tea from a Thermos, the milk straight
From an old H.P. sauce-bottle, a screw
Of paper for a cork; slowly sets out
The same three plates, the tin cups painted blue.

The sky whitens as if lit by three suns.
My mother shades her eyes and looks my way
Over the drifted stream. My father spins
A stone along the water. Leisurely,

They beckon to me from the other bank.
I hear them call, ‘See where the stream-path is!
Crossing is not as hard as you might think.’
I had not thought that it would be like this.

Eden Rock, by Charles Causely (1917 to 2003)

* * * * * * *

26 thoughts on “A New Home

  1. That’s a beautiful poem Jane. It is lovely to see you’re not gone, just moved to a new home and a new start 🙂 I too about 2/3years ago cleaned everything down and started again. Same blog but a much simpler format and I’ve never looked back. I hope it works for you too.

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    1. It was a very brief ‘I might be back but I might not’ kind of departure a week or so ago, but I realised that I’d miss the books blogging community as soon as I pressed ‘post’. I’m so pleased that you’ve found your way over here and that we’ll still be in touch.

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  2. It’s a lovely new home, Jane, and I am so very, very happy to see you here. I think I will have to find a copy of that poem. I have been thinking of my mother so much in the past couple of days, so it really speaks to me.

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    1. I’m delighted that you found your may over here, and I look forward to you adding more books to my shelves and my wishlist. The poem spoke to me for similar reasons; I find Causely’s work a little variable, but when he gets it right he’s brilliant.

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  3. Hooray – it’s lovely to visit you here in your new home, and I hope you’ll be happy and enjoy your blogging. I look forward to hearing what you get up to and reading about whatever you read that you feel like reviewing.

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  4. Loved the poem, thank you for sharing it. Really glad to see you are settling in happily in your new home. Looking forward to seeing you and Briar thrive here! 🙂

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  5. Very belatedly, but lovely to see you in your new home! I’ve been so busy lately that I missed your original ‘goodbye for now’ post, which I’m glad about, as it would have filled me with anxiety!

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