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Posts Tagged ‘J.R.R. Tolkien’

For friend hearts, and sweethearts, and parent hearts, too,

for hungry tummies, and open arms, this one’s for you.

Some truth, some fluff, some real love stuff . . .

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Ah, Janey, make us swoon.

To be fond of dancing was a certain step towards falling in love.

~Jane Austen, Pride and Prejudice

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Love? Yeah . . . You’ll be crying . . .

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Well, well . . .

Handsome is as handsome does.

~J.R.R. Tolkien

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Ah, at last . . .

I don’t want sunbursts and marble halls. I just want you.

~Lucy Maud Montgomery,

Anne of the Island

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Sweetest video ever made–send this one to your honey.

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And this is what you can tell them over Valentine’s dinner 😉

Opening her eyes again, and seeing her husband’s face across the table, she leaned forward to give it a pat on the cheek, and sat down to supper, declaring it to be the best face in the world.

~Charles Dickens, Our Mutual Friend

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Love? Oh, WOW.

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Love comforteth like sunshine after rain.

~William Shakespeare, Venus and Adonis

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A little something for the Valentine table.

For your children, for your honey, or for you!

Beetroot and Parsnip Soup with Horseradish*

(nope, not tomato!)

pink soup? think of that! and jolly easy to make!

30 grams butter

1 potato, peeled and chopped

2 parsnips, peeled and chopped

1 small onion, chopped

2 large or 4 small beetroot,

peeled and chopped

800 ml vegetable stock

1oo ml cream and sour cream,

combined

1 T horseradish mixed with

1 T olive oil and 1 t vinegar

Melt butter in a large saucepan over low heat. And the onion and cook till soft but not brown, then add the potato, parsnip, and vegetable stock/broth. Bring to the boil and then add the beetroot, cooking for a further 15 minutes. Don’t overcook, as the beetroot will go from a lovely deep pink to a red color. When the vegetables are tender, remove from heat and puree with a stick blender (or blender) until the soup is smooth, but with a few lumps. Stir in the cream, sour cream, and horseradish mix and season with salt and black pepper. Exquisite!

*Recipe adapted from Delicious Soups by Belinda Williams

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Though our feelings come and go, God’s love for us does not.

~C.S. Lewis

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Wishing the happiest of Valentine weekends to you!

Avonlea x

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Happy Little Sigh is now on Pinterest! Join me there?

http://www.pinterest.com/happylittlesigh/

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A little cry breaks the breath,

the sound of the furnace as it warms the chill of these rooms,

makes the red living room curtains dance.

I rush to feed him, lay him back down, hoping for bit more time with my thoughts.

Any moment, another will call out.

And with the words, “Me ‘wake” our day will begin.

Breakfast, with toast crumbs, and sticky honey, and spilled milk (always there is spilled milk).

And sometimes giggles, and little voices lifted to sing our morning prayer.

Other times fights over who gets the blue bowl.

Or someone falling off his chair (twice) followed by hysterical tears.

And I try not to sigh. I try to remember.

The song I am writing

with this, my life.

The song they’ll be singing when they go.

What will they remember, when they go from me?

What are the notes that will dance, involuntarily, through their heads?

Notes of discord, notes of complaint?

A tune of sighs and “why”s?

Or those of grace?

Of overlooking others’ faults.

Sometimes with “I forgive you.”

Other times with silence. Ignoring that burning desire to point it out.

Lyrics of love?

Of my love, and God’s love, for them.

With myself I play it. I play my life’s song.

With my words and my hands and my feet.

With the way I do what needs to be done

(and there is a lot that needs to be done).

With the way I smile as I sweep it, wipe it, clean it up.

Put it back where it belongs. Again.

With the song of thanksgiving that I speak with my tongue

and in my heart

for all we have.

For these little ones, for their daddy.

Singing their own song that I help to write.

I can hear them now. Stirring. Scampering.

The day begins.

The song begins.

My life goes on, the song is endless.

And no part, no day, can be redone.

But each day, each moment, is new.

Each day, the song

it must be written.

And with all I have

all I’ve been given.

How can I keep

how can I keep from singing?

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The Lord will command His lovingkindness in the daytime; And His song will be with me in the night, A prayer to the God of my life.

~Psalm 42:8

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If more of us valued food and cheer and song above hoarded gold, it would be  a merrier world.

~ J.R.R. Tolkien

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May the words I say
And the things I do
Make my lifesong sing
Bring a smile to You

~ Casting Crowns

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My life goes on in endless song
Above earth’s lamentations,
I hear the real, though far-off hymn
That hails a new creation.

Through all the tumult and the strife
I hear it’s music ringing,
It sounds an echo in my soul.
How can I keep from singing?

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You might also be inspired by Castle Stone, Cottage Moss https://happylittlesigh.com/2013/09/20/if-youre-scared-to-go-or-you-cant-bear-to-stay/

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HappyLittleSigh is now on Facebook and Twitter – Join me there?

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I wouldn’t be surprised if the dictionary definition of the word cozy (or cosy, as it’s spelled in the UK) read “of or relating to all things British.” During the years I spent in Great Britain, I came to recognize, appreciate, and love Britain’s penchant for the simple, the ordered, and the beautiful things in this world. Those uncomplicated, quiet routines, which have the ability to add much richness and comfort to life. Pulling on a worn pair of wellies and a wooly jumper to take the dog for a walk through the woods, the continued popularity of a real, open fire, and that wonderful, ongoing routine of a mid-morning tea break, known as elevenses.

Over the sweltering hot summer months we experienced this year in America, I was disappointed to find that the last thing I wanted to partake of was a hot drink (although my husband continued to brew himself a cuppa several times a day). And so I’ve been thankful for the recent dip in temperatures, which sent me searching for the cozier items in my wardrobe, and once again found me reveling in the slow sipping of a hot cup of tea from my favorite mug.

Yes, elevenses continue at our house. It falls conveniently just before naptime for my youngest, and is a chance for us to break away from whatever has occupied our morning and come together for a little company and refreshment. Even our six-year-old enjoys a cup of tea, “with loads of milk and sugar,” and we all enjoy a piece of shortbread or two. Routine adds a sense of comfort and stability to our days, and I believe that any routine that involves tea, and gives us the opportunity to speak and laugh together, is a good one. So hurrah for elevenses. Long may they live!

What about elevenses? Luncheon? Afternoon tea? Dinner? Supper? He knows about them, doesn’t he?

~ Pippin, Lord of the Rings

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