Well, it did snow yesterday to freshen things up a bit and the cold continues, with today being the coldest - but it didn't end up as cold as predicted. And, as we came out of the grocery store we felt a very fine snow again! It continued for a few hours and now it's all a beautiful soft white blanket out there.
Daisy has been helping me pack away some of the Christmas things.
There's a piece about St. George in Magnificat this month which surprised me. As we all know, Shakespeare died on his feast day, April 23, and was either born or baptized on that, too. And there are the legends, that he slayed a dragon. That's about all I ever knew of him.
The article says he died around the year 303.
this book is lovely, by the way
"Saint George is generally considered to have been a soldier-martyr under Diocletian. He was canonized in 494, but gained enormous popularity during the Middle Ages as one of the Fourteen Holy Helpers, who were specially invoked during the Plague....George is also a beloved patron of England, in whose battles he has a long tradition of miraculous intervention. As recently as 1914, British soldiers, about to be overpowered by a larger German force, reported a winged army around them, calling upon their leader: either Saint George or Saint Michael, depending on the account. The German infantry paused their onslaught, and the British forces escaped destruction. Later, German prisoners mentioned their surprise at seeing the British using longbows again." emphasis mine
What a story!!
The above book was illustrated by the late Trina Schart Hyman, whose work I love. I also am fond of a book of John Updike's poetry about the seasons, for children, also illustrated by her.
January
The days are short,
The sun a spark
Hung thin between
The dark and dark.
The sun a spark
Hung thin between
The dark and dark.
Fat snowy footsteps
Track the floor,
And parkas pile up
Near the door.
Track the floor,
And parkas pile up
Near the door.
The river is
A frozen place
Held still beneath
The trees' black lace.
A frozen place
Held still beneath
The trees' black lace.
The sky is low.
The wind is gray.
The radiator
Purrs all day.
The wind is gray.
The radiator
Purrs all day.
- John Updike, c1965.
Simple in their descriptions, but greatly enhanced by Trina's wonderful paintings.
I had never heard the World War I story before; so interesting! I have also never read anything by John Updike. That poem is lovely!
ReplyDeleteYes, in its simplicity, but you should see the illustrations, Clare - they really add a lot to the verses.
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