bells

Ah man, the wedding. That's right, The Wedding. It was, needless to say, sublime. There's nay point gilding the lilly, so here's my summary:

Pippa's a beaut, Harry's a dish, Beatrice's antlers a huge mistake, maple trees an excellent idea, the dress perfection, the homily lovely, and "Wings Travel" received the best global advertisement one could wish for...

My favourite bit? Probably when William and Harry walked into Westminster Abbey, just the two lads together. Lovely beyond words.

© BBC 

BBQ

Man, I love Easter. All the new flowers, sunshine, warm breezes, chocolate eggs, barbecues, family and every good thing. Marvellous. And today is particularly warm-breezy, barbecue-y and blissful.

All these things I love. But mostly, of course, the fact that:

His love is never, never, never based on our performance, never conditioned by our moods–of elation or depression. The furious love of God knows no shadow of alteration or change. It is reliable. And always tender.
      -- Brennan Manning

Amen.

Monday's Faces (somewhat belated)

What a sweet chap. I love his cap – and pipe for that matter. I accidentally (yes, really) had a puff of a pipe when I was about 7 – the foulest thing I've ever tasted (except for beetroot). Still, they do look dapper.

I'm trying to work out why he was having his picture taken there – it almost looks like someone caught him walking down the street and asked him to smile. Maybe he just wanted his picture taken outside his house? Who knows? Looks like he's fairly dressed up though – maybe the morning of his wedding? Capturing his last moments as a free man? I kind of hope that's the case, I like the thought of him being so happy at the thought that his single days are over.

lemonade

So today I went here with a rather lovely chap. Was a rather lovely day, too.

Monday's Faces

I love this one (realised I say that about all of them, but doesn't make it less true). She really really reminds me of Marilla Cuthbert from Anne of Green Gables – who is, needless to say, a legend.

I wonder why she's wearing black, maybe she's a widow? And, more mysteriously, I wonder what the paper is that she's holding. She looks pretty pleased, whatever it is. I love her smile, she looks very grandmotherly I think. Trying to work out where she's from is also pretty tricky. Something makes me feel like it could be somewhere in America or Canada, not sure why. Something about the combination of that curtain and the wallpaper. Can't put my finger on it though.

So, pretty much a real-life Marilla Cuthbert. Not a bad accolade.

j'adore

Monday's Faces

She's gorgeous, isn't she? I love her hair and clothes, she looks so stylish. I love that she's called Dorothy, I reckon her friends called her Dot.

I think it's so interesting that so many of these old portraits are postcards - I wonder how that worked? Did people get a batch made, or just one-offs? I wonder how much it cost - was it just for special occasions or did everyone get them done?

I love her smile, just a hint. Mona Lisa's got nothing on this lass.

pep

So, I'm really rather excited for three reasons.

1. Last week I availed myself of one of these. This has revolutionised my coffee-consumption. Coffee-making now feels like more of an event - crack out the ol' percolator and away we go.
2. Seriously considering the future and what I want to do after uni has led me to the possibility of a job so exciting that I'm still trying to convince myself that it's within my reach. So I'm sat here giving my CV a wash and scrub-up and pondering thoughts for a cover letter. More on this when there's more to tell.
3. Purchased the soundtrack to this film that I went to see a week or so ago (twice, actually). Well worth a watch/listen:

Élévation

Au-dessus des étangs, au-dessus des vallées,
Des montagnes, des bois, des nuages, des mers,
Par delà le soleil, par delà les éthers,
Par delà les confins des sphères étoilées,

Mon esprit, tu te meus avec agilité,
Et, comme un bon nageur qui se pâme dans l'onde,
Tu sillonnes gaiement l'immensité profonde
Avec un indicible et mâle volupté.

Envole-toi bien loin de ces miasmes morbides;
Va te purifier dans l'air supérieur,
Et bois, comme une pure et divine liqueur,
Le feu clair qui remplit les espaces limpides.

Derrière les ennuis et les vastes chagrins
Qui chargent de leur poids l'existence brumeuse,
Heureux celui qui peut d'une aile vigoureuse
S'élancer vers les champs lumineux et sereins;

Celui dont les pensers, comme des alouettes,
Vers les cieux le matin prennent un libre essor,
—Qui plane sur la vie, et comprend sans effort
Le langage des fleurs et des chose muettes!

________

Above the valleys, over rills and meres,
Above the mountains, woods, the oceans, clouds,
Beyond the sun, past all ethereal bounds,
Beyond the borders of the starry spheres,

My agile spirit, how you take your flight!
Like a strong swimmer swooning on the sea
You gaily plough the vast immensity
With manly, inexpressible delight.

Fly far above this morbid, vapourous place;
Go cleanse yourself in higher, finer air,
And drink up, like a pure, divine liqueur,
Bright fire, out of clear and limpid space.

Beyond ennui, past troubles and ordeals
That load our dim existence with their weight,
Happy the strong-winged man, who makes the great
Leap upward to the bright and peaceful fields!

The man whose thoughts, like larks, take to their wings
Each morning, freely speeding through the air,
—Who soars above this life, interpreter
Of flowers' speech, the voice of silent things!

-- C. Baudelaire