Oh Susie, that poor child will now spend the day in my thoughts, how horribly painful it must be to see it all played out in front of your very eyes, while you remain impotent. Sorry 😔
As for twinkly lights et al, reassure yourself that the whole shebang (just one day!) always happens one way or another and nobody else will notice if we’ve missed a string or two. Sending love. Xx
Every case is hard Vanessa, as I’m sure you can imagine but this little chappie I’ve taught (on and off) since he was two years old - I won’t even describe the deplorable state he arrived to our care in - as a result (a very unprofessional one admittedly) I am rather attached so obviously the heartbreak is tenfold when not one solution will help him further through an already very hard life. I don’t think I’ve ever felt so useless… I guess it comes with the job - it doesn’t make it easier though! 😓
Yes! Indeed, Christmas will happen regardless, and as long as I don’t forget to order the capon and turn on the oven when I slide it in) all will be an improvised success, the same as every other year! I hope… 🙃love back to you xx
I don't know how you do what you do, how you convince these words to trail along beside and behind as you walk your hillside in whispered shadow... but I am most grateful to smell the air and glimpse the owl, to imagine the intermittent purring of snoozy cats and the tapping of grimy fingernails attached to a failure-prone mum. You might be tempted to imagine all this as unremarkable, these walks and thoughts that you elicit and trail... until you consider that parting look from the Tawny... who, like some of us senses your goodness, your willingness to see, and feel ....and wonder. Respect.
I do what I do because nobody else will David, because if, in the end, I have helped move even the smallest of shadows from their lives I can smile and know that for a short time, they can too. It is hard, often unbearably so but if can I carry the weight of that hardship onto my hill and let it loose amongst the trees and wait for the wind to carry it heavenwards, wait for that look from the Tawny, I can return the next day with a lighter heart and begin again with all the optimism a new day brings, despite the gravity of knowing the final chapter.
Bless your goodness for feeling that weight my friend - thank you, from my heart.
Thanks lovely, I don't think I ever recover from these meetings Pipp, every day I ask myself if Im capable of getting into the car and driving to another class...I do though, because if I don't there is nobody standing with a kind heart waiting to take my place and these kids rely so heavily on kindness... I'll message you later - have paperwork covering the table xx
Arghhh, Jonathan stop, I'm blushing! But thank you, and never is there need to apologise for tardiness, life happens, thankfully!
I am sure you must know, I remember why... I hope only that in Sweden there is perhaps a more empathetic system of teaching not only to the child concerned but their families also. This mother obviously loves her boy deeply, she couldn't hide that, but the word 'Love' is misleading isn't it... it can be abused and misunderstood, it can destroy.
'How do I love thee, let me count the ways, For the ends of being and ideal grace' says Elizabeth Barrett Browning in an attempt to rationalise her love for own beloved but how can one justify a love, no matter how strong, that has caused irreparable damage, how can a family have let this happen, five times? I search for the grace...
Apologies, (my turn) no answers are ever going to be enough in this case, ignore my still raw nerves - this case has been too hard is all. They all are... this damn bloody world is right! :-(
I do know and you remember why. I suppose in the end there is only so much you can do, and to carry the weight of all tragedy is not one of them. I remember writing about the only option we have in some ways when faced with all this agony:
"Soon she will head into her day, not to take part in the world but to be the world, not to be tempted by the ever gushing fountain of trivial tinsel, but instead to look each and every one squarely in the eye and see them in their struggle or their triumph or their defeat or their arrogance and treat them all with the same gracious manner, regardless of gain or favour, for that is what should be done."
It's not much, but it's something. Lots of love and care to you Susie.
Thank you, again... perhaps there is an equation for 'finding grace'? If so, I need to understand the formula... though I fear it is more a three body problem, endless possibilities in a never ending spiral.
Wherever you wrote those words, can you send me the link please, even if ive already read the essay, I'd like to read it again.
Jo, you're very sweet but I don't even know what all the buttons do on my grown-up camera, never mind what all the settings mean! I love photography though and a few people seem to like that which makes me very happy - if that's being a photographer then I concede! 🙏🏼
I have a feeling I found that word on Instagram... I fell in love with it immediately - it seemed somehow important. As for broken heartedness, its life isn't it - you know so well, we just have to patch up the wound and carry on... forward march, blind and numb.
May your week be filled with warm blossom filled air lovely one - thank you 💛xx
Dear Susie, I am filled with emotion as ever, reading your heart stopping words. And isn’t that what we all aim to do, to elicit feeling in each other with our words. Of course Kalee loved what you sent her, your words and photographs are of a special and unique magic ✨
The owls, what privilege to see them and hear them, a small reward for your early morning toils, I think perhaps their fleeting glance is a great honour and privilege, only shared with souls such as yours.
I have been thinking of dead trees recently, a post half written that is still not ready even after weeks of me working on it, starts with a dead tree. How strikingly beautiful your tree is in death, I hope my own end will be so graceful and amidst such beauty.
I hope that this week ahead will show kindness to your heart, and that the mild panic will subside xx
Thank you dear Emily, I think the very worst of that whole meeting was the knowledge that no matter the outcome, this poor sweet boy cannot change his unfortunate origins. Or that no matter where he is placed, even if it turned out to be the school he would prefer, he will not be happy because he will struggle so terribly to keep up.There is no happy ending for him... It makes my work seem so futile... and truthfully, its not the first time I have asked myself if I am capable. My heart is not tough enough.
I love that you mention the owls, I have become quite obsessed by them, often staying out in my little patch of woodland in the hope of catching sight of them. I hear them all the time, even from my bed which I find a strange but wonderful comfort. I wonder often about buying a lens with the zoom capacity to capture them close up and just as quickly change my mind for fear of encroaching on their very private lives.. its a matter of respect I think. So maybe they do respect me... maybe?
I too have a tree post half written (along with about twenty others!🙃) it feels, again, like the owls as though much respect needs to be given and I'm not sure I have given enough... eventually we will both be happy with our essays I'm sure - time is irrelevant when speaking of such things, after all they've known far more than we have for far longer...
Mild panic is mounting! It's a perfectly me situation at this time of year though - I'm used to it - tea and cake always helps and if not wine! I hope your week is calm too lovely xxx
There are days when the two are indecipherable Kimberly they run on an even up and down keel like waves, then comes a great tsunami where the violent undertow is just too strong and I feel my self slipping in a vast ocean of doubt - Friday almost drowned me permanently!
But I hung on and in there and Monday I smiled as usual... as if not a thing in the world was wrong. Apparently, this is my job. 💛
I call yours pictures, more than photographs. To quote the Cantos again... 'out of all this beauty something must come'.
Of a small boy and another teacher with words to match the ruin, Charles Causley'; "Timothy Winters comes to school ... A blitz of a boy is Timothy Winters ... And through his britches the blue winds blow. [and then the poem proceeds to the last wondrous] "Timothy Winters roars 'Amen!' So come one Angel, come on ten: / Timothy Winters says 'Amen' / Amen amen amen amen. / Timothy Winters, Lord"
Philip I like very much, "I call yours pictures, more than photographs." indeed, what I see is pictures, many thousands of them, some are raw and unsightly but so many more fall under "To quote the Cantos again... 'out of all this beauty something must come'." and I, who feel so deeply about sharing my good fortune to be beholden of such beauty will die, I hope, having painted it all through eyes that have loved every second.
I have just found the poem you speak of, another I have neither heard of or read; you are a veritable anthology and I wish I lived close by you for I would surely be at your door relentlessly devouring more... Timothy Winters, even down to his hair, is he, my poor boy and I pray for the angels, when I say Amen. Good Lord, I pray for ten!
'Hours are predictable passengers in time I rely on; that is to say they can be held, moulded to needs, read, understood and laid down, they hold music, laughter and tears, exhilaration and tragedy until the next arrives, on time, as dependable as the seven days in the week that form each month and so on… Other passengers—moon, sun, stars, people—timeless undependable tremblings, sometimes faded or shining brightly, sometimes violently, other times more gently; that is to say they cannot be held, either they are too fleeting or they burn in there persistence or, they are absent entirely, though life is not life without them.'
Thank you Roselle, even though hours, usually so dependable seem to be slipping this month, as they invariably do in December.
I hope all is well with you - did you have snowfall? Not even a single flake fell here but the Cantal mountains I can see from my window were snowcapped for a few days.. I do love to see that. X
So much in this newsletter! First congratulations on the article request. It's great that people are finding you.
Second, your work story was so moving...I didn't realize you had to be part of this sort of meeting. It must be very tough.
Finally, Christmas preparations? I've become Madame last minute. Fortunately I only have a very small family to prepare it for: my daughters, sometimes the eldest's "pacsé" who is conveniently from Aveyron, and husband of course. I wait until one of the daughters shows up from the big city to put up the tree, and rely more and more heavily on local "artisans de bouche" to provide our Christmas treats -- not ready-made dishes, but special things that are easy to cook. This is our busiest time at work -- for example, we're working today -- so I also like to kick back a bit at Christmas.
Thank you Betty, I am not sure a small online magazine via Instagram can be considered much of a discovery but I am quietly delighted to have some of my pictures in print for the first time ever.
Yes, sadly I do have to attend these meetings, I wish it weren't so but it is an obligation of the job. Perhaps the hardest part in some cases, although that does depend on the child in question... this one has been heartbreaking from the very beginning. It will be until the end... and I ask myself, for the umpteenth time, 'am I cut out for this work?'
I think people like us may quietly enjoy the last minute chaos of Christmas prep Betty, we must do or we wouldn't put ourselves through it every year! I have managed to refine the whole madness over the years though... Christmas is a very simple affair here which is just how everyone likes it! and thank goodness for that!
It is the coziness that counts - its exactly that... xx
I love how you thought 'no' to the article request but said 'yes' nonetheless 🙂
And, oh dear, the madness that is December is about to descend upon us all. I enjoy the slowing down for winter, but not the frenetic nonsense that surrounds Christmas.
Lynn, I truly wish I'd stuck to my instincts in replying, between writing the short text, which should have been easy (and even sent in is clumsy and bland), our chaotic wifi connection and choosing just a handful of photos out the hundreds of thousands I have in files, I just wanted to cry! Much the way I want to cry every year when December 1 arrives and I realise, once again, I've forgotten my promise to be organised so as not to have any last minute panics... it never happens!
Christmas is just another job these days at a time when I should be resting and enjoying down time!
I gave up being organised for Christmas years ago. These days it just happens. The only presents that are bought are for my husband and boys. We have a very chilled slow food day on Christmas Day and generally shut the world out for the three days our shop is shut. Bliss!
So much beauty and pain. No words.
Thank you Anna…
This is heart-breaking Susis.
But you absolutely are a photographer as well as a lyrical writer with so much soul x
Kind words Jan, thank you from my heart lovely lady… xxx
Oh Susie, that poor child will now spend the day in my thoughts, how horribly painful it must be to see it all played out in front of your very eyes, while you remain impotent. Sorry 😔
As for twinkly lights et al, reassure yourself that the whole shebang (just one day!) always happens one way or another and nobody else will notice if we’ve missed a string or two. Sending love. Xx
Every case is hard Vanessa, as I’m sure you can imagine but this little chappie I’ve taught (on and off) since he was two years old - I won’t even describe the deplorable state he arrived to our care in - as a result (a very unprofessional one admittedly) I am rather attached so obviously the heartbreak is tenfold when not one solution will help him further through an already very hard life. I don’t think I’ve ever felt so useless… I guess it comes with the job - it doesn’t make it easier though! 😓
Yes! Indeed, Christmas will happen regardless, and as long as I don’t forget to order the capon and turn on the oven when I slide it in) all will be an improvised success, the same as every other year! I hope… 🙃love back to you xx
congrats on being honored, Susie 🌻
i really like that first shot of the grazing cow -- beautifully lit.
🙏🏼💛
I don't know how you do what you do, how you convince these words to trail along beside and behind as you walk your hillside in whispered shadow... but I am most grateful to smell the air and glimpse the owl, to imagine the intermittent purring of snoozy cats and the tapping of grimy fingernails attached to a failure-prone mum. You might be tempted to imagine all this as unremarkable, these walks and thoughts that you elicit and trail... until you consider that parting look from the Tawny... who, like some of us senses your goodness, your willingness to see, and feel ....and wonder. Respect.
I do what I do because nobody else will David, because if, in the end, I have helped move even the smallest of shadows from their lives I can smile and know that for a short time, they can too. It is hard, often unbearably so but if can I carry the weight of that hardship onto my hill and let it loose amongst the trees and wait for the wind to carry it heavenwards, wait for that look from the Tawny, I can return the next day with a lighter heart and begin again with all the optimism a new day brings, despite the gravity of knowing the final chapter.
Bless your goodness for feeling that weight my friend - thank you, from my heart.
Congratulations Susie!! Can’t wait for the link. What a week. I hope you are recovering from your school meeting xx
Thanks lovely, I don't think I ever recover from these meetings Pipp, every day I ask myself if Im capable of getting into the car and driving to another class...I do though, because if I don't there is nobody standing with a kind heart waiting to take my place and these kids rely so heavily on kindness... I'll message you later - have paperwork covering the table xx
I had no idea you were involved in such difficult situations
Sadly yes, although I wish it weren’t so!
Actually you are a photographer, and a fabulous one.
And a writer, what a beautiful post. You know I feel your helpless melancholy with that poor lady. The damn bloody world. Sigh.
There’s snow falling outside now, in the dark, which barely decamps before striding back again. Winter certainly is an occupation!
Thanks Susie, sorry for the late read, been occupied ;)
Arghhh, Jonathan stop, I'm blushing! But thank you, and never is there need to apologise for tardiness, life happens, thankfully!
I am sure you must know, I remember why... I hope only that in Sweden there is perhaps a more empathetic system of teaching not only to the child concerned but their families also. This mother obviously loves her boy deeply, she couldn't hide that, but the word 'Love' is misleading isn't it... it can be abused and misunderstood, it can destroy.
'How do I love thee, let me count the ways, For the ends of being and ideal grace' says Elizabeth Barrett Browning in an attempt to rationalise her love for own beloved but how can one justify a love, no matter how strong, that has caused irreparable damage, how can a family have let this happen, five times? I search for the grace...
Apologies, (my turn) no answers are ever going to be enough in this case, ignore my still raw nerves - this case has been too hard is all. They all are... this damn bloody world is right! :-(
I do know and you remember why. I suppose in the end there is only so much you can do, and to carry the weight of all tragedy is not one of them. I remember writing about the only option we have in some ways when faced with all this agony:
"Soon she will head into her day, not to take part in the world but to be the world, not to be tempted by the ever gushing fountain of trivial tinsel, but instead to look each and every one squarely in the eye and see them in their struggle or their triumph or their defeat or their arrogance and treat them all with the same gracious manner, regardless of gain or favour, for that is what should be done."
It's not much, but it's something. Lots of love and care to you Susie.
Thank you, again... perhaps there is an equation for 'finding grace'? If so, I need to understand the formula... though I fear it is more a three body problem, endless possibilities in a never ending spiral.
Wherever you wrote those words, can you send me the link please, even if ive already read the essay, I'd like to read it again.
I hope your day is blessed my friend.
A beautiful ode to "becoming winter" Susie.
Thank you for being a photographer (!!!!) and sharing your amazing photos with us. I looked at and into the tree one for a long time. Stunning.
I also love knowing there is a word for noticing and cherishing the little things: "Philocalist."
Thoughts for the mother and her son. My heart breaks also.
Wishing you a lovely week Susie. xx💛
Jo, you're very sweet but I don't even know what all the buttons do on my grown-up camera, never mind what all the settings mean! I love photography though and a few people seem to like that which makes me very happy - if that's being a photographer then I concede! 🙏🏼
I have a feeling I found that word on Instagram... I fell in love with it immediately - it seemed somehow important. As for broken heartedness, its life isn't it - you know so well, we just have to patch up the wound and carry on... forward march, blind and numb.
May your week be filled with warm blossom filled air lovely one - thank you 💛xx
Dear Susie, I am filled with emotion as ever, reading your heart stopping words. And isn’t that what we all aim to do, to elicit feeling in each other with our words. Of course Kalee loved what you sent her, your words and photographs are of a special and unique magic ✨
The owls, what privilege to see them and hear them, a small reward for your early morning toils, I think perhaps their fleeting glance is a great honour and privilege, only shared with souls such as yours.
I have been thinking of dead trees recently, a post half written that is still not ready even after weeks of me working on it, starts with a dead tree. How strikingly beautiful your tree is in death, I hope my own end will be so graceful and amidst such beauty.
I hope that this week ahead will show kindness to your heart, and that the mild panic will subside xx
I would say, tea, cake and wine for laters, all absolutely required 🫖 🍰 🍷
Thank you dear Emily, I think the very worst of that whole meeting was the knowledge that no matter the outcome, this poor sweet boy cannot change his unfortunate origins. Or that no matter where he is placed, even if it turned out to be the school he would prefer, he will not be happy because he will struggle so terribly to keep up.There is no happy ending for him... It makes my work seem so futile... and truthfully, its not the first time I have asked myself if I am capable. My heart is not tough enough.
I love that you mention the owls, I have become quite obsessed by them, often staying out in my little patch of woodland in the hope of catching sight of them. I hear them all the time, even from my bed which I find a strange but wonderful comfort. I wonder often about buying a lens with the zoom capacity to capture them close up and just as quickly change my mind for fear of encroaching on their very private lives.. its a matter of respect I think. So maybe they do respect me... maybe?
I too have a tree post half written (along with about twenty others!🙃) it feels, again, like the owls as though much respect needs to be given and I'm not sure I have given enough... eventually we will both be happy with our essays I'm sure - time is irrelevant when speaking of such things, after all they've known far more than we have for far longer...
Mild panic is mounting! It's a perfectly me situation at this time of year though - I'm used to it - tea and cake always helps and if not wine! I hope your week is calm too lovely xxx
Both heaviness and levity in the cycles (human and natural), and you walk us through their manifestations with such sensitivity Susie. 💛
There are days when the two are indecipherable Kimberly they run on an even up and down keel like waves, then comes a great tsunami where the violent undertow is just too strong and I feel my self slipping in a vast ocean of doubt - Friday almost drowned me permanently!
But I hung on and in there and Monday I smiled as usual... as if not a thing in the world was wrong. Apparently, this is my job. 💛
I call yours pictures, more than photographs. To quote the Cantos again... 'out of all this beauty something must come'.
Of a small boy and another teacher with words to match the ruin, Charles Causley'; "Timothy Winters comes to school ... A blitz of a boy is Timothy Winters ... And through his britches the blue winds blow. [and then the poem proceeds to the last wondrous] "Timothy Winters roars 'Amen!' So come one Angel, come on ten: / Timothy Winters says 'Amen' / Amen amen amen amen. / Timothy Winters, Lord"
Philip I like very much, "I call yours pictures, more than photographs." indeed, what I see is pictures, many thousands of them, some are raw and unsightly but so many more fall under "To quote the Cantos again... 'out of all this beauty something must come'." and I, who feel so deeply about sharing my good fortune to be beholden of such beauty will die, I hope, having painted it all through eyes that have loved every second.
I have just found the poem you speak of, another I have neither heard of or read; you are a veritable anthology and I wish I lived close by you for I would surely be at your door relentlessly devouring more... Timothy Winters, even down to his hair, is he, my poor boy and I pray for the angels, when I say Amen. Good Lord, I pray for ten!
'Beauty is difficult' had been the refrain previously a measure recurrent during the imprisonment, until the last:
'Under white clouds, cielo di Pisa
out of all this beauty something must come'
Yes, ten from me and ten from you! 👍
This is a beautiful and poignant post Susie.
Oh and THIS! Wow.
'Hours are predictable passengers in time I rely on; that is to say they can be held, moulded to needs, read, understood and laid down, they hold music, laughter and tears, exhilaration and tragedy until the next arrives, on time, as dependable as the seven days in the week that form each month and so on… Other passengers—moon, sun, stars, people—timeless undependable tremblings, sometimes faded or shining brightly, sometimes violently, other times more gently; that is to say they cannot be held, either they are too fleeting or they burn in there persistence or, they are absent entirely, though life is not life without them.'
Thank you Roselle, even though hours, usually so dependable seem to be slipping this month, as they invariably do in December.
I hope all is well with you - did you have snowfall? Not even a single flake fell here but the Cantal mountains I can see from my window were snowcapped for a few days.. I do love to see that. X
For sure!
Thank you Philip!
'Philocalist' !! How wonderful a word. Thank you, dear Susie. Yours in disorganisation, xx
Why is it always such a relief to hear we are not alone in our disorganised states! Thank you Chloe - sending calming hugs amidst the chaos; xx
Hooting smoothly, sending my love. 💛
Thank you sweet soul xx💛
So much in this newsletter! First congratulations on the article request. It's great that people are finding you.
Second, your work story was so moving...I didn't realize you had to be part of this sort of meeting. It must be very tough.
Finally, Christmas preparations? I've become Madame last minute. Fortunately I only have a very small family to prepare it for: my daughters, sometimes the eldest's "pacsé" who is conveniently from Aveyron, and husband of course. I wait until one of the daughters shows up from the big city to put up the tree, and rely more and more heavily on local "artisans de bouche" to provide our Christmas treats -- not ready-made dishes, but special things that are easy to cook. This is our busiest time at work -- for example, we're working today -- so I also like to kick back a bit at Christmas.
Bon dimanche!
It's the coziness that counts, right?
Thank you Betty, I am not sure a small online magazine via Instagram can be considered much of a discovery but I am quietly delighted to have some of my pictures in print for the first time ever.
Yes, sadly I do have to attend these meetings, I wish it weren't so but it is an obligation of the job. Perhaps the hardest part in some cases, although that does depend on the child in question... this one has been heartbreaking from the very beginning. It will be until the end... and I ask myself, for the umpteenth time, 'am I cut out for this work?'
I think people like us may quietly enjoy the last minute chaos of Christmas prep Betty, we must do or we wouldn't put ourselves through it every year! I have managed to refine the whole madness over the years though... Christmas is a very simple affair here which is just how everyone likes it! and thank goodness for that!
It is the coziness that counts - its exactly that... xx
I love how you thought 'no' to the article request but said 'yes' nonetheless 🙂
And, oh dear, the madness that is December is about to descend upon us all. I enjoy the slowing down for winter, but not the frenetic nonsense that surrounds Christmas.
Lynn, I truly wish I'd stuck to my instincts in replying, between writing the short text, which should have been easy (and even sent in is clumsy and bland), our chaotic wifi connection and choosing just a handful of photos out the hundreds of thousands I have in files, I just wanted to cry! Much the way I want to cry every year when December 1 arrives and I realise, once again, I've forgotten my promise to be organised so as not to have any last minute panics... it never happens!
Christmas is just another job these days at a time when I should be resting and enjoying down time!
I gave up being organised for Christmas years ago. These days it just happens. The only presents that are bought are for my husband and boys. We have a very chilled slow food day on Christmas Day and generally shut the world out for the three days our shop is shut. Bliss!