Monday, January 30, 2012

February


In Shakespeare's time about 400 years ago, the second month of the year was called 'Feverell'. In Isaac Newton's time one hundred years later it had become 'Februeer'. The modern name, February, is only about a hundred years old.

A Song for Candlemas



A Song for Candlemas
by Lizette Woodworth Reese


There’s never a rose upon the bush,
And never a bud on any tree;
In wood and field nor hint nor sign
Of one green thing for you or me.
Come in, come in, sweet love of mine,
And let the bitter weather be!
Coated with ice the garden wall;
The river reeds are stark and still;
The wind goes plunging to the sea,
And last week’s flakes the hollows fill.
Come in, come in, sweet love, to me,
And let the year blow as it will!

Friday, January 27, 2012

Some thoughts on Diet from Facebook

Kate Rusby sings Candlemass Eve



Lyrics to Candlemas Eve :


Down with the rosemary and bay,
Down with the mistletoe,
Instead of holly, now up-raise
The greener box, to show
The greener box to show.

[Chorus:]
Thus times do shift, thus times do shift,
Each thing it's time doth hold,
New things succeed, new things succeed,
As former things grow old.

The holly hitherto did sway,
Let box now domineer,
Until the dancing Easter day,
On Easter's eve appear,
On Easter's eve appear.

[Chorus]

The youthful box which now hath grace,
Your houses to renew,
Grown old, surrender must it's place,
Unto the freshened yew,
Unto the freshened yew.

[Chorus]

When yew is out, then birch comes in
And many the flowers beside,
Both of a fresh and fragrant kin,
To honour Whitsuntide,
To honour Whitsuntide.

[Chorus]

Wednesday, January 25, 2012

Celebrating Burns once again



Robert Burns (25 January 1759 – 21 July 1796) (also known as Rabbie Burns, Scotland's favourite son, the Ploughman Poet, Robden of Solway Firth, the Bard of Ayrshire and in Scotland as simply The Bard) was a Scottish poet and a lyricist. He is widely regarded as the national poet of Scotland, and is celebrated worldwide. He is the best known of the poets who have written in the Scots language, although much of his writing is also in English and a "light" Scots dialect, accessible to an audience beyond Scotland. He also wrote in standard English, and in these his political or civil commentary is often at its most blunt.

He is regarded as a pioneer of the Romantic movement, and after his death he became a great source of inspiration to the founders of both liberalism and socialism and a cultural icon in Scotland and among the Scottish Diaspora around the world. Celebration of his life and work became almost a national charismatic cult during the 19th and 20th centuries, and his influence has long been strong on Scottish literature. In 2009 he was chosen as the 'Greatest Scot' by the Scottish public in a vote run by Scottish television channel STV.

As well as making original compositions, Burns also collected folk songs from across Scotland, often revising or adapting them. His poem (and song) Auld Lang Syne is often sung at Hogmanay (the last day of the year), and Scots Wha Hae served for a long time as an unofficial national anthem of the country. Other poems and songs of Burns that remain well-known across the world today include A Red, Red Rose; A Man's A Man for A' That; To a Louse; To a Mouse; The Battle of Sherramuir; Tam o' Shanter, and Ae Fond Kiss.

Latest lamp we restored



This is a Plume & Atwood (P & A) Royal bracket lamp. Jim and I restored this one to working order and gave it back a mercury glass reflector. There was no longer one with the lamp when we found it. It took Jim considerable work to get the burner off and cleaned on this lamp, it seems it had been allowed to dry up with a full tank of fuel so it was gummed up something terrible. Jim used a mixture of Coleman fuel and denatured alcohol to soak the parts until they were movable again and he give the lamp a new wick.






http://www.ramshornstudio.com/center_drafts.htm

Sunday, January 22, 2012

The Last Shepherds - Northumberland Cheviot Hills



The Last Shepherds - Northumberland Cheviot Hills

Saturday, January 21, 2012

Snowflakes



Out of the bosom of the Air,

Out of the cloud-folds of her garments shaken,

Over the woodlands brown and bare,

Over the harvest-fields forsaken,

Silent, and soft, and slow

Descends the snow.



even as our cloudy fancies take

Suddenly shape in some divine expression,

Even as the troubled heart doth make

In the white countenance confession,

The troubled sky reveals

The grief it feels.



This is the poem of the air,

Slowly in silent syllables recorded;

this is the secret of despair,

Long in its cloudy bosom hoarded,

now whispered and revealed

to wood and field.



by Henry Wadsworth Longfellow

Friday, January 20, 2012

O Winter! frozen pulse and heart of fire


"O Winter! frozen pulse and heart of fire,
What loss is theirs who from thy kingdom turn
Dismayed, and think thy snow a sculptured urn
Of death! Far sooner in midsummer tire
The streams than under ice. June could not hire
Her roses to forego the strength they learn
In sleeping on thy breast."
- Helen Hunt Jackson, A Calendar of Sonnets: January


~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Photo by Mary Womack Murdock © 2012

This chilly January morn


"Bare branches of each tree
on this chilly January morn
look so cold so forlorn.
Gray skies dip ever so low
left from yesterday's dusting of snow.
Yet in the heart of each tree
waiting for each who wait to see
new life as warm sun and breeze will blow,
like magic, unlock springs sap to flow,
buds, new leaves, then blooms will grow."

- Nelda Hartmann, January Morn

Thursday, January 19, 2012

Maybe real winter is fianlly here....



The next 7 days look to be snowy and cold at last maybe a week of real winter.

The Old Lamplighter


The Lamplighter, engraved by Francois Seraphin Delpech 1778-1825

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
The Old Lamplighter
Words & Music by Charles Tobias & Nat Simon
Recorded by The Browns, 1960
Previously charted by Kay Kyser, 1947

Refrain:

G D F# F#7 Bm
He made the night a little brighter wherever he would go–

G D G D A7
The old lamp lighter of long, long ago.

G D
His snowy hair was so much whiter

F# F#7 Bm
Beneath the candle's glow –

G D G D A7 D A7
The old lamp lighter of long, long ago.


D D6
You'd hear the patter of his feet

D D6
As he came toddlin' down the street,

D D6 D
The smile would hide a lonely heart, you see;

Em Em7
If there were sweethearts in the park,

Em Em7
He'd pass a lamp and leave it dark,

Em Em7 Em A7
Remembering the days that used to be,

D D6
For he recalls when dreams were new,

D D6
He loved someone who loved him, too,

D A7 D
Who walks with him alone in memory.


Repeat Refrain:

Wednesday, January 18, 2012

Tuesday, January 17, 2012

I give you a new commandment


"I give you a new commandment, that you love one another. Just as I have loved you, you also should love one another. By this everyone will know that you are my disciples, if you have love for one another."- John 13:34-35

Monday, January 16, 2012

Sunday, January 15, 2012

Saturday, January 14, 2012

Friday, January 13, 2012

New Video of my P & A Royal Lamp



Plume & Atwood produced a full line of lamps and lamp accessories. Their lamp lines included Royal, Plumbwood and Naugatuck in table, bracket and hanging versions. I am showing the model known as the Royal in brass in a hanging set up with smoke bell and frame.

http://www.ramshornstudio.com/center_drafts.htm

Thursday, January 12, 2012

Leezie Lindsay on Guitar Live



Here is an instrumental version of Leezie Lindsay performed in Taybank Pub Dunkeld Perthshire Scotland. Here is a Tour Scotland video of Dougie Law playing Leezie Lindsay. The tune by Robert Burns. It was Filmed in the Taybank Pub in Dunkeld, Perthshire, Scotland.

This is a lovely tune, and there are a number of versions of the words this song.


"will ye gang tae the Hielands, Leezie Lindsay?
Will ye gang tae the Hielands wi' me?
Will ye gang tae the Hielands, Leezie Lindsay,
My bride and my darling tae be?"

"To gang to the Hielands wi' you, sir.
I dinna ken how that may be;
For I ken nae the land that ye live in,
Nor ken I the lad I'm gaun wi'."

"O, Leezie, lass, ye maun ken little,
If sae be ye dinna ken me;
For my name is Lord Ronald MacDonald,
A chieftain o' high degree."

She has kilted her coats o' green satin.
She has kilted them up tae her knee,
And she's aff wi' Lord Ronald MacDonald,
His bride and his darling tae be.

Leezie Lindsay first appears in Print in Johnson's Scots Musical Museum (1803). These words are by Robert Burns. Other versions found by Child include Donald of the Isles.

Monday, January 9, 2012

In January In Duhallow



The cold winds of January from the north east does blow
And the weather is cold quite cold enough for to snow
And the hungry birds silent on the naked hedgerow
In the flat and rushy fields where the Blackwater flow.

January in Duhallow from here far away
In the chill of the morning the frost bound fields gray
In the farmyard sheds cattle bellow for silage or hay
Where the sun seldom shines on a January day.

The distinctive harsh caws of the silver backed crow
In the Season where grass does refuse for to grow
And few cars on the roadway that leads to the town
Near where the river flows bank high in flood waters of brown.

In January in Duhallow the old fields looking bare
With the harsh chill of Winter in the cold Morning air
And at least eight long weeks till the first breath of Spring
When Nature will bloom and her wild birds will sing.


by Francis Duggan

The meek shall obtain fresh joy


"The meek shall obtain fresh joy in the Lord, and the neediest people shall exult in the Holy One of Israel. For the tyrant shall be no more, and the scoffer shall cease to be; all those alert to do evil shall be cut off— those who cause a person to lose a lawsuit, who set a trap for the arbiter in the gate, and without grounds deny justice to the one in the right."-- Isaiah 29:19-21

Thursday, January 5, 2012

January



The days are short,
The sun a spark
Hung thin between
The dark and dark.

Fat snowy footsteps
Track the floor,
And parkas pile up
Near the door.

The river is
A frozen place
Held still beneath
The trees' black lace.

The sky is low.
The wind is gray.
The radiator
Purrs all day.


by John Updike

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