Monthly Archives: April 2017

A Walk near Blyss that brought me joy

With the apparent arrival of spring throughout the town and its magnificent surroundings, that being Mountainside, Summit and the Watchung Reservation in particular, I ventured about outdoors to experience it firsthand while it was still fresh in its glory.  Starting with the Watchung Reservation, it was magnificent to see the leaves out their first day after being buds.  Then, there were the flowering bushes and trees everywhere I drove about: azelia, Bartlett pear, and magnolias.  And then there were the flowers, both wild and cultivated, and I cannot say enough about them.  At a club luncheon with friends on Thursday, a women recommended taking the time to stop and see the field of daffodils at the Reeds Arboretum in Summit, a place I drive by all the time.  I realized  how foolish I was never to stop and sit for a while, so I made it a point to later that very day.  As that silly saying goes, “Take time to stop and smell the roses”.

I had been there before, actually for meetings and programs in the old mansion that has been preserved for such purposes, but never actually to enjoy its many gardens.  I thought that was rather a dumb omission on my part, too, always thinking, I must find the time to drive by this way and drop in for a while……   but never do.  I found my effort to have been well worth it.  Yes, the many thousands of daffodils were still in bloom, and according to the nearby plaque, all 30,000 of them, in a geological bowl shaped formation caused by a glacier.  How beautiful a vista they made!  Seeing all those blossoms in one place reminded me somewhat of the Presby Memorial Iris garden  in Montclair, NJ, not too far away.  My husband, Bob, who grew up in Montclair, used to take me there.  We both had a great love of irises and had them at the first house we shared together, on Oak Tree Road in Mountainside, before we had our borzoi and lived on Summit Lane.   It’s too early to visit there yet, about another four to six weeks for irises.

Perhaps I can retain some of the splendor we achieved in the Oak Tree Road gardens here.  It will be difficult because I am doing it alone.   Yes.  That word again.  Alone.

My landscaper can bring in the mulch and other soil supplies, but for the most part, I will be on my own.  I find when I am in the garden working, still in the weeding phase, the borzoi are nearby.  I know they would rather be out walking somewhere, especially the Watchung Reservation.  Tresor would like to be running loose, looking for another dog to fight, disobeying me by not coming back when called.  Jelly just wants to walk by my side like the Lady she is.  She knows how to present the best possible picture of her canine self.

Everyone Jelly meets  falls in love with her on sight.  I take her on long walks with me and she meets people wherever we go.  She also gets taken to the Scouting Field in Watchung Reservation where she runs and plays off leash with a Dalmation named Lazarus.  He is a constant there and her best friend.  I leave her there with his owner, and she brings her back to me hours later after she and Lazarus have had their long and happy canine play date.

Afterwards, it is the dogs’ dinner time and they eat heartily.  Jelly may not always eat her breakfast, but she always eats her dinner.  The days are moving along more the  way I would like them to of late.  The departure of winter is an enormous help for me.  I am able to do more varied things and enjoy my surroundings and especially the borzois I love so much, my beloved Tresor and Jelly.  Moreover, in addition to the enormous weeding project outdoors, I am tackling the job of interior, or shall I say, mental weeding, trying to get rid of all the bad thoughts and memories of the winter before that disturbed me so much.

I would like to add one more thing before ending, that on Monday this week, April 17, my Jelly was seven years old.  I am so lucky to have her.  She is a comfort to me in this world that I never believed could be possible.  I can never thank her breeder, Frances Wright, for letting Jelly come to live with me two years ago.  I am forever in her debt.

A poem in Facebook brings me joy

A borzoi breeder I know posted a lovely, old poem in Facebook this week thereby sharing it with her friends. It has a simple, beautiful and wise message.  I am posting it here so I always have it to remind me of its values and to share with my readers.

I had no thought of violets of late,

The wild, shy kind that spring beneath your feet

In wistful April days, when lovers mate

And wander through the fields in raptures sweet.

The thought of violets meant florists’ shops,

And bows and pins, and perfumed papers fine;

And garish lights, and mincing little fops

And cabarets and songs, and deadening wine.

So far from sweet real things my thoughts had strayed,

I had forgot wide fields, and clear brown streams;

The perfect loveliness that God has made,—

Wild violets shy and Heaven-mounting dreams.

And now—unwittingly, you’ve made me dream

Of violets, and my soul’s forgotten gleam.

Alice Dunbar

 

 

A Poem for Blyss Keeping

A borzoi breeder I know shared this poem on Facebook this week.  I thought I would place it here for my readers to find.  It says so much so well.

I had no thought of violets of late,

The wild, shy kind that spring beneath your feet

In wistful April days, when lovers mate

And wander through the fields in raptures sweet.

The thought of violets meant florists’ shops,

And bows and pins, and perfumed papers fine;

And garish lights, and mincing little fops

And cabarets and songs, and deadening wine.

So far from sweet real things my thoughts had strayed,

I had forgot wide fields, and clear brown streams;

The perfect loveliness that God has made,—

Wild violets shy and Heaven-mounting dreams.

And now—unwittingly, you’ve made me dream

Of violets, and my soul’s forgotten gleam.

~Alice Dunbar

This is all so true of the shallow life I live without thinking until I remember what lies just beyond my back door, in the nearest field.  There abounding are every kind of “violet” and wild flower one may seek, only a step or two away off the rocky and inclining, twisting trail.

And while I am at it, let me add another I found on my own once:

Life is for the living

Death is for the dead

Let life be like music

And death a note unsaid.

~ Langston Hughes

Perhaps if death is a “note unsaid”, then death will never be.  I can say it over and over like a mantra so my borzoi Tresor and Jelly will never die.

 

Blyss Transitions of Seasons and Life

Sometimes I do not know how I go on one day to the next.  Much is happening here at Blyss.  Some of it is very private, such as my relationships; some pertains to my life with borzoi, such as Lucy’s continued good fortune in the ring; some pertains with my colossal efforts to make serious changes to my outlook on life in order that I may be more successful going forward.   I expect to do better in the short term going forward.

First of all, my borzois, Tresor and Jelly, are doing well.  Both recently went through a period of harrowing, serious health scares.  Then, winter has gone, and we are slowly easing into the rising temperatures of spring.  It is April now, and soon there will be the seemingly sudden greening of the Mountain behind me, that dimension of ancient places, the Watchung Reservation, that I call home, in my back yard.   Moreover, I have been called upon to do a job for my primary breed club as Show Chair for our Specialty show in September.  Having spent the second half of the day and evening working on it, I am confident it will be completed very soon, pending the answers of some questions I asked of the President.

There is now a thaw in a formerly cold relationship but sadly I expect the relationship to remain forever in the past.  My assessment of the man was correct when I said good-bye.   I have further come to believe he hurts me so much because he, along with another man I recently loved, is a cad but for a different reason.  For, like the Tin Man in The Wizard of Oz, he has no heart.   I am  looking for a different kind of partner for my world, one who may have some space in his life for a woman like me.  It sounds so simple when put this way but this person is very elusive to find.  Although it’s been easy to lose all hope, I will be committed to finding such a partner until the day I die.

In the meantime, there is the special beauty of Tresor and Jelly who make every day a special gift of love, grace and beauty.

Jelly at home