Category Archives: Love

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Hidcote – A Birthday Stroll Through One Man’s Garden

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I often wish that my step-mom Cullene could be by my side as I explore new places during my travels with John. She’s content to travel less these days although you would never guess it based on what she manages to accomplish while out helping others.

We had a chance to talk about all the places we would go if I could persuade her to cross the ocean just one more time, but she feels the need to stay closer to home. She gives so much of herself to those around her and both family and friends are the recipients of her loving attention, but it does leave her with less time for herself.

Today is her birthday and without giving away her age (not that she’d likely care) I am glad to note that this is the 39th birthday I’ve had the privilege of sharing with her even if from a distance. I wish I could be there to make this day special for her or even better if she could be here with me. I’m stealing a bit from the children’s book author, Dr Seuss, ” Oh, the places we would go … ” in order to tempt her.

I left her a gift that will be appropriate for the photos in the birthday post today, but I misplaced the card and did not realize it until it was too late so I’m hoping that this post will act as a substitute for a more traditional birthday card. It is sent with great love and a not so subtle hope of enticing her over when the time is right for her to fly again.

Happy Birthday, Cullene.

You can go here to read about Lawrence Johnston who was often described as a ” self-taught gardener ” and spent much of his life creating the gardens at Hidcote. (Click to enlarge photos)

Can you guess where Cullene might use the birthday gift I left for her?

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And The Winner Is …

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John Biking On Bodmin Moor

When my sweet husband bought me a bike of my own, he gave me a gift that made my heart very happy and I’ve had the wildest thoughts while zipping through the lanes or pushing hard to make it up hills. Due to having only three gears, I love how this little beauty makes me work a bit harder to get up the steeper places. Somehow the success at the top feels more like I’ve earned it. I could not have done it half so well without my season of spin classes and think this new bicycle and I shall become the best of friends.

That said let’s move on to the naming and why I chose the one I did. I tend to assign meaning to most things in life so I should not be surprised that the idea of a name for my new ‘girlfriend ‘ seemed important.

Thanks to everyone who offered a suggestion yesterday. They were all lovely in their own way and I appreciated the explanations as well. Angie came closest to the name I chose … offering something similar, but not quite what I had in mind.

I’m calling her Dora and here’s why …

When I was riding so hard up the hills around our village for the first time, I could almost hear the music playing when the bad witch rides by during the tornado scene in the Wizard of Oz movie. Although not the actual scene I’m referring to, this video link has the music I was hearing in my head on those hills.

Counter the witch imagery with the thrill and excitement of flying down through the lanes and you have some of the childlike enthusiasm I was feeling the rest of the time even going so far as to let out a few ” Weeeee, I love this biiiiiiiike” screams in places where my joy could not be contained.

Given the visual imagery, music, and my struggle to go home, how could I not think of Dorothy, her ruby slippers, (my bike is a deep shade of red) and the witch who had to be conquered. Even though Dorothy was was a front-runner, I knew I wanted something shorter and more racy for my girl. I thought Dora might work and when I checked online, I found it was a nickname for Dorothy and that it meant ‘gift’ which seemed just about perfect since she was gifted to me by John.

I know in America that ‘Dora the Explorer ‘ has been a favorite of young girls in particular for some time and while I had no thought at all about that Dora, I feel sure that my Dora and I will do quite a bit of exploring as we spin our way to new adventures.

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Choosing A Name For My New Baby

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Elizabeth Dodging Sheep On Bodmin Moor

Thanks so much to everyone who commented on yesterday’s post and celebrated my return to Cornwall and John. What a great welcome back it was to have such a thoughtful gift from him. I love how he listens to my not so secret dreams and surprises me with an action.

Now … I need a little fun help from you.

I’ve never really been someone who gave names to things like cars and bikes, but with my lovely retro looking ride, I find that I am thinking of a special name for her. I have something clearly in mind, but I might change it (although not likely) if you leave one that wows me.

I’ve got my reasons why I’m leaning in the direction I am, but I’d love to hear what you think before making a final decision. Thanks for your help!

I’m putting my vanity aside and leaving the photo above one you can enlarge even though my hair looks a fright. I want you to be able to see the sheep on the road and the moor. This is one of the roads we drive on regularly to get to our village. When you meet an oncoming car you have to pull over which is easier than meeting in the mostly narrow lanes where someone must backup.

 

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Back In Cornwall & Home At Last

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If you follow me on Facebook, you know I arrived home in Cornwall early yesterday evening. John met me at the gate and I was over the moon to see him. As we live about 4.5 hours from London, he was a bit tired before the day was over. When he meets me at Heathrow, he likes to do the drive in one day preferring a 9 hour drive (500 miles) to an overnight stay in London. He took this photo right when I saw him. I can’t say the woman behind me looks as happy as I do to be there. (Click to enlarge)

Back At Heathrow After Three Months Away

When we made it home, I walked back into my studio space to find a lovely surprise. I had a happy tear or two when I saw John’s thoughtful and unexpected gift. Can you guess what it was …

Is that not the sweetest, most darling, best bike, you’ve ever seen? John said that I need some Brogues and a tweed skirt and I’ll be kitted out just right for my new retro looking bike. My sister Margaret would say that I need a helmet. I do have one, but it’s not retro so I may need to look for one on the London Cycle Chic site.

I think my face says it all … happy, happy, happy!  Now if I can just navigate the narrow lanes without crashing into anything, I’ll be good.

UPDATE: The first ride …

After making a few adjustments to my bike, I changed into pair of cycling shorts cleverly as a skirt and  John and I went for a ride up on the moor. The route we took through the lanes was stunning with color from the wildflowers that were everywhere and the green of the hedges.

I can’t even describe how it looked and felt except to say I was overwhelmed by it all and felt like I was going to have a happy cry more than a time or two. My urban stress melted away out there. Poof! It was gone, just like that.

I loved it! I’d say that my spinning days will quite happily be taking place outdoors. Some of the hills increased my heart rate in the same way my spin classes did and the sheep and wild ponies made for lovely view. I wish you all could have this experience.

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Finally … I’m Going Home!

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When I left England for America on April 22, I had no idea I would still be here in July. Much has happened that I did not feel free to share online at the time, but now that I have finally booked my return ticket, I will be back blogging regularly.

Henry David Thoreau said, ‘ We should come home from adventures, and perils, and discoveries every day with new experience and character.’

It fits perfectly with what I’ve come to think of as my ‘lost and found’ summer experience and I hope you’ll come back to hear all about it.

Even though I won’t see my  ‘Dancing Ladies’ until early August, my final countdown has begun.

The Dancing Ladies On The Hilltop - Almost Home

I’ve imagined my airport reunion with John more times this summer than I can count and while his face looks very dear each time I think of him waiting just beyond the arrival checkpoint, it’s the memory of our last embrace that I cling to in my mind and how it will feel to finally be back in his arms again.

John Winchurch

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Birthday Wishes & Sage Advice

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David Morris - London 2011

My dear friend David is one of my very best friends. Born five years before me, he is in many ways like the older brother I wish I’d had growing up. Interestingly we were both delivered by the same physician in the same hospital just as true siblings might have been. Part wise sage and part Santa Claus, he is generous with his gifts and a trusted friend and advisor.

Over three years ago on February 23, 2008, I sent him an email on the last day of my first visit with John. I told him all about my feelings for John and that even though it sounded crazy even to me, how I wanted to find a way to come back to him. Having a practical as well as romantic spirit, I knew he was the right person to reach out to when I was trying to decide on next steps back then.

I reread our emails from that period today and wanted to share a bit of what David said to calm my fears particularly about how fast everything was happening. Here is just a small part of what he said to me.

“Listen to your heart.

It’s a good one.

I know one when I see one.

But it is a muscle.

You do need to exercise it.

Use it.

Take a leap for good love.

For the metaphysical heart.

If you fall, all of us will welcome you and help you back on your feet.

If you succeed (and you will),

then we will all marvel at good love.

Restore our faith.

Be happy for you.

Rejoice.”

Wise words from a dear man who has had a tremendous impact on my life … all good and all so appreciated. It’s his birthday today and I was pleased to be able to share some of it this afternoon having a bit of fun and swapping stories. I wish you could have been there.

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Buttercup Madness And Thoughts Of Cornwall

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John In The Buttercup Field - Reunion Day May 2008

When my husband John and I began our long distance romance in early 2008, I was slightly obsessed with trying to get back to Cornwall in time to see what we refer to as the buttercup field. Standing in the field during my first trip to meet him that February, I couldn’t wait to see it again after hearing him describe how the green space would be a golden carpet of buttercups by May.

My imagination didn’t prepare me for the sight that greeted me when I made back three months later. As you can see by the photo above it was just as he said it would be, a beautiful field of gold.

Elizabeth Harper - Buttercup Field In Cornwall - May 2008

It pains me to know that I am missing the summer glory of buttercups and wildflowers that take Cornwall even higher on the beauty scale and I know that John is missing being able to share it with me.

He’s been sending me photographs which help a bit, but I feel quite desperate at times to get back to him and to our home life. It looks as if I will be in Atlanta for the summer and while my friends and family are doing much to make my stay more bearable, I find I cannot dwell too much on what’s happening at home in Cornwall when I am so far from it.

John sent me the photograph below that he took recently of the buttercup field and as pretty as it is it’s missing a little something and that something is me!

Photo Of Buttercup Field By John Winchurch - June 2011

John Winchurch & Elizabeth Harper - 2008

 

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Jersey Baby Girl Comes Home

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Okay, so I’m not being very original with my blog name for the newest member of the family, but I thought Jersey Baby Girl would work for a while. I intend to refer to her most often as JBG for short and will likely shorten Jersey Girl’s name to JG. I hope it doesn’t get too complicated.

My friend Patrice and I were talking about this last night and how some people go their whole lives being called by a nickname. She said she grew up with a much older cousin who everyone always called Baby Sister and to this day she’s not sure what her cousin’s name really was on her birth certificate.

John’s been having all the fun (I’m so jealous) and doing a great job of taking care of Jersey Girl while her mother and baby sister were in the hospital. They both came home a few days ago and I wanted to share some of the sweet pictures John and others have taken that show what I’ve been missing.

Mom shares a moment with her Jersey Girls

I wonder what he’s thinking here …

John with both of his granddaughters.

That baby looks hungry to me.

Jersey Girl gives Boris the Bear a peek at her baby sister. The crates you see behind JBG’s head are there because they moved into their new home by the sea just before she was born.

Mom out walking with her girls.

JG clowning for the camera in a hat and shirt that John and I gave her two years ago for her birthday. She finally grew into them. My daughter Miranda would tell you that I always bought her clothes about two sizes too big when she was a little girl too. John said she came downstairs wearing the hat and shirt and announced that these were things we had given her for her fifth birthday.


I just hate missing these sweet moments. John’s been sending loads of pictures which help, but I wish I could have been there too.

John with his youngest daughter Rachel and her new little JBG.

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The Last Day Of Melanoma Awareness Month

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Some of you may know my story when it comes to melanoma. I wrote about it in detail here and I’ve shared stories of some special people in my life who died young from melanoma.

Marty and Jennifer both had an impact on my life well before cancer took them, but that they both died from melanoma connects me to them in ways deeper than just the good times we shared.

This video is one that has been making the rounds this month and I’ve seen it on a few blogs I visit. I almost skipped it thinking what else do I need to know about this dreadful disease, but I discovered a few facts I hadn’t known and it prompted me to write this post.

No matter if you’re 16 or past 70 like my friend Patrice’s mom, Marilyn, who died only seven months after her diagnosis, you need to know what melanoma looks like and how quickly it can take your life or the life of someone you love.

Spend a few minutes on The Skin Cancer Foundation’s site and forward this post or parts of it to people you love.

May is Melanoma Awareness Month and awareness can save your life. I know because it saved mine.

With my melanoma history, my daughter’s chances of skin cancer increase by 50%. Sunscreen and skin checks by a dermatologist are vital along with a good awareness of how her moles normally look so she can tell if they change in any way. She would likely say I was a bit of a nag as much as I talk to her about checkups and sunscreen, but watching people you love die from something that might  have been preventable is a horrible thing to witness.

Most people think they know enough about melanoma or they think it only affects you when you’re older, but sites like this one meant to educate a younger generation say that melanoma is the second leading cause of death in 15 to 30 year-olds. Facts like these are worth paying attention to so please listen and please talk to the people you love.

Don’t say goodbye to someone too soon.

A Last Goodbye - Patrice & Joe At Their Mother's Grave

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Memorial Day Memories In 2011

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For much of my life remembering the war dead on Memorial Day has been about those lost during WWII or the Vietnam War. It was easier when I was younger to balance a plate of barbecue while watching a parade of war veteran’s marching to honor fallen comrades. It was more distant then, less personal.

There were stories of course like those I heard about my great-uncle Hugh Lee, who died in France during WWII, but nothing close enough to affect me personally. Having died years before I was born, it was my father and my great-grandmother who talked about him the most and made him more to me than just a name on a gravestone in the family plot.

Gratefully, he was the last in our immediate family to die in service and while my father and I both spent time in the Army, neither of us were faced with military conflict.

At fifty, I struggle to read the news reports of war related deaths especially when I see that some of the people dying are my daughter’s age or younger. I can’t imagine their parent’s grief. I don’t want to know how that feels.

What I do know is how important the stories we share are no matter if they happen at the cemetery or over a plate of barbecue. I won’t be doing either today, no visits to war memorials and no family gatherings with food or conversation, but I will remember and not just my family.

I’ll spend some time today with the stories I usually can’t bear to read because this is a day for remembering and for acknowledging the loss that some people can never forget.

Here’s one of my stories from last year. If you have a link to one you’d like to share, feel free to leave it in a comment below.