DEAR MOTHER

Mother dear,

I meant to write every day, I truly did...
you are always in my thoughts....
I miss your laugh, your smile, 
I even miss your rousing at me 
for not chopping the wood. 
I know I promised that once I got home 
you would never have to do it again.

Did you get the poppy I sent you? 
They are such a beautiful bright red
and I know how much you love them. 
I hope the censor didn't take it out of the envelope.
I forgot to say Thank You for the socks
I know they took you a long time to knit them all
I hope you don't mind, but I gave a pair to my mate
His boots leaked, but the socks helped. 

I promised to fix the fence as well
I am sorry, Mother, I really am,
but it's good that you got our neighbour in
you might need him to help a bit more.
You taught me never to break a promise
but sometimes, you can't help it.

I'm sorry, Mother, that I can't see your smile
I long for your arms around me, I'm cold
as I sleep among the poppies in a Flanders field
No need to keep knitting, Mother
I have enough socks now
Sorry, Mother, for not keeping my promises
Today, I did write, with all my love.

(c) Crissouli

                                            (c) chrismilne

A Trinket Or A Treasure

A Trinket Or A Treasure

                                    

A trinket or a treasure

It means the same to me

For holding on to this small thing

I feel that you're with me.

I feel your touch

So warm and kind

As if you're asking me to see

That though the years

 They do us part

You are a part of me

I may not have a photograph

To see your kindly smile

But still I feel your presence

As if you linger for a while.

Please know that I am grateful

For this link that we have shared

Know also that you still do live

In the heart of one who cared.

Crissouli(c) 

THAT WAS THEN...

I love leather... I would have walked on hot coals to have a  

leather satchel like the one that I saw in the second hand shop...

such stuff as dreams are made of. 

I always longed to go to a solid brick school, with lots of timber and surrounded by  

beautiful gardens. Instead, I simply had to put up with quaint timber  

schools, lots of light and open spaces and surrounded by huge Moreton  

Bay figs, some literally hundreds of years old, which we were  

forbidden to climb. 

I would have taken notice, I really would, but  

it's very hard to hear a yelling teacher calling out "ChrisTINE, for  

the last time, come down from that tree, or ELSE!!" Hard, because the  

branches I liked to sit on were a long way up. One hot afternoon, the  

grade teacher went marching into battle, at least that's what she  

looked like, straight down to my parent's shop, and demanded that my  

mother do something about me climbing trees as "she is setting a bad  

example". My mother got her Irish up and asked if I had ever fallen  

out of a tree, or if I ever pushed anyone out of one, or even up  

one...   "Well, no, but..."

"No?" said my mother, and gave her her best glare, "Well you had  

better get about your business and let me get about mine."

"Well, I never" said Battling Bertha, as we called our dear teacher....  

she really was ok. " Maybe you should" said Mum. The teacher left, Mum  

took a deep breath and I came out of the back room, all smiles.  

Whack. Through tears, I asked why.. when she had stood up to the  

teacher. I was told in no uncertain terms that Mum letting the teacher  

know that she thought it was ok, was one thing, but me causing  

problems and then the teacher needing to come see Mum was another.  

From then on, I never climbed the trees, in school hours. I know I  

digressed, but it still brings a smile to my face when I think of that  

day and I reminded myself when I mentioned the trees.

Crissouli (c)

SUMMER DELIGHTS!

BLOG OF THE YEAR AWARD 2012

BLOG OF THE YEAR AWARD 2012

It is with great pleasure and surprise that I accept the Nomination by 

Pauleen of Family history across the seas to be included in 

her selection of five blogs she has chosen to nominate for 

"Blog of the Year 2012 Award ".

 I feel I am in very good company as you can see by her nominations 

HERE

Congratulations to all.

 Now it is my task to nominate others... not by any means easy  

as I follow and enjoy so many blogs and choosing just a few

 means leaving many other great blogs out this time.

You may find that you are following some of these already, if not, 

I hope you will read a little and see why they have caught my attention.

A Silver Voice From Ireland

written by the wonderful Angela 

who takes us on a journey through history or introduces us 

to the charm of Ireland today. 

She writes with such passion and enthusiasm 

that you can't help but be swept up 

in her always interesting posts.

MaherMatters

written by Janet who invites us to learn more about the history 

of Irish settlement in Connecticut in particular 

and has led to her very much sought after book 

released last year.

From the Old Sod to the Naugatuck Valley

Her articles are so comprehensive and written 

with such feeling and understanding that, 

even though I have no connection 

to those whose lives she explores, I find her blog 

compulsive reading.

Seeking Susan ~ Meeting Marie ~ Finding Family

I can't overlook Catherine who is always so modest 

about her work, but doesn't recognise the power she has 

to lead us through so many emotions...

One minute, I am battling to stop the tears flowing, 

the next I am laughing out loud. 

This incredible natural writer simply shares 

her ancestors, her life, her thoughts and feelings 

so well, that the reader becomes her friend.

Irish in the American Civil War

written by Damian whose passion and love of history 

has taken me on an amazing journey and taught me 

so much about the Irish participation 

in the American Civil War and the attitudes 

of those times. His diligent research 

and copious links to other reading provides 

so much more than the normal tales of history.

 Family history across the seas

Though Pauleen nominated me for this award, 

I can't overlook her always intriguing blogs. 

I have learnt so much from reading her tips on research, 

her guidance towards helping us to be better researchers 

has been invaluable. Pauleen has a great way of exploring 

the story behind the facts, so you really feel attached 

to those she writes about, and look forward to even more 

tales to come.

Sincere Congratulations to all my nominees and 

Thank You for sharing your wonderful blogs with us all.

The ‘rules’ for this award are simple:

1. Select the blog(s) you think deserve the ‘Blog of the Year 2012’ Award

2. Write a blog post and tell us about the blog(s) you have chosen – there’s no minimum or maximum number of blogs required – and ‘present’ them with their award.

3. Please include a link back to this page ‘Blog of the Year 2012’ Award –http://thethoughtpalette.co.uk/our-awards/blog-of-the-year-2012-award/ and include these ‘rules’ in your post (please don’t alter the rules or the badges!)

4. Let the blog(s) you have chosen know that you have given them this award and share the ‘rules’ with them

5. If you choose, you can now join our Facebook group – click ‘like’ on this page ‘Blog of the Year 2012’ Award Facebook group and then you can share your blog with an even wider audience

6. As a winner of the award – please add a link back to the blog that presented you with the award – and then proudly display the award on your blog and sidebar … and start collecting stars… For further information on collecting stars, just click on the link provided in Rule 3.

I AM

I am the summation of all who have passed on, 

all I have met and all I admire... 

I am brushed with days and years gone by, 

of friends who left and those who have stayed, 

of places I've lived and places I've visited. 

I am the summation of the books I've read, 

the craft I have done, 

the sunrises and sunsets I have seen, 

the babbling brook and the raging sea.

I am the summation of tears shed

of laughter shared,

of long winter evenings

and the blissful days of spring. 

I am the petals of fragrant roses

and inviting fruits.

I am brushed with death, and tears, 

of life and joy..

I am the past and the present

I am the future..

I am me.

(c) Crissouli

THE BLUE CANDLE

The Blue Candle

Just a simple candle to remember

The times we used to have

Though we cannot touch your arm

We still can touch your heart

As you still touch ours.

Margaret Joy Swadling, known as Peg, was born in Coffs Harbour, NSW, in 1930, the youngest of four children to Roy Leonard and Bridget Teresa (nee Dillon). 

She married her soul mate, Vince, and despite her numerous illnesses, they worked together most of her life, raising three children along the way. She was to be blessed with three grandchildren, before passing away at 51. Another two grandchildren came along after.  Peg loved her family above all else, her children, her son in law and daughter in law, her grandchildren,  and she would be so excited to know she has a grandson in law and two beautiful great grandchildren. 

She adored children, loved to sing, loved being surrounded by family and friends, loved her garden, and was so proud of her Irish mother, who gave her her Irish background. Sadly, her mother died when Peg was just 11.

She was uncomplaining, courageous, and an inspiration to all.

Peg was my much loved mother. 

For her and all our departed loved ones, I will light a blue candle on Christmas Eve.