The Sweetest Balm For A Broken Heart.

Meet Sparrow, the loveliest of tiny things that has brought the sparkle back to My Only Girl. You may remember our most heart-rending little tragedy, still regretted today and every day.

She was worried about how she would feel, afraid she would be trying to replace Oz so soon, (she was adamant about no more black cats~that would just be too heartbreaking) but this only girl of ours needs something small and helpless to love. We all need some unconditional love in our lives, and as I know many of you know full well, the love of a pet is wholehearted, unreserved, and unlimited, and a perfect, pure balm to the tribulations of life.

Somethings just go together, and need no explanation, and a girl and her cat are one.

Things We Found.

When they tore down the wall,

there,

hidden,

by some unknown hand,

a newspaper page.

From 1928.

And behind a wall of old, old books,

which I always meant to look through, but never found the time,

until now,

this wallpaper.

I fancy from the same era.

Faded and still so beautiful.

Too aged to remove in one,

I fought to keep a little piece.

And have it now,

to remember these workmen of old,

who walked this floor,

and knew the view from my backdoor,

and signed their names on a post

and hid it within these walls.

I'll keep this too,

for you, whoever you were,

James Kiernan, Kilcoole Station. 1928.

Things We Found.

Renovating part of our house over the last three weeks has been revealing in so many ways. There has been a number of things from another era that we found or uncovered and I would love to share with you. So with that in mind I have a few posts lined up for the next few days.

But first I thought I'd share something a bit more recent, but that was mislaid and turned up in all the moving and shifting that is going on.

It's a poem that My Only Girl wrote last year when she was ten.

A Country Life.

May make-up be every girls priority,

But me I like the forestry,

Down the road and by the shed,

I delight in seeing it from my bed.

At night the moon it glistens far

beyond my room, beyond the farm.

It sees things that I cannot see,

like sleepy little bumble bees.

In summer I am happy to see

the trees are growing wild and free.

Unlike the ones in winter's crawl,

they're fresh and green and never fall.

By Me age 10.