“A voice was heard in Ramah, sobbing and loudly lamenting: it was Rachel weeping for her children, refusing to be comforted because they were no more.”
“. . .A commonplace book is what a provident poet cannot subsist without, for this proverbial reason, that ‘great wits have short memories:’ and whereas, on the other hand, poets, being liars by profession, ought to have good memories; to reconcile these, a book of this sort, is in the nature of a supplemental memory, or a record of what occurs remarkable in every day’s reading or conversation. There you enter not only your own original thoughts, (which, a hundred to one, are few and insignificant) but such of other men as you think fit to make your own, by entering them there. . .”
The “few and insignificant thoughts” are exactly what will be found here in Commonplaces.
A snap General Election has caught us on the hop. It is one’s civic duty to vote, but hoards of people haven’t registered. You have only three days left!
Don’t you DARE give me a “fun” funeral or put me in a “kooky” coffin or I swear I’ll haunt you.
Struggling is on my mind because I am trying to write something about my parents. A few simple paragraphs to show how they seemed to me, which might account for myself being the way I am.
I can’t remember not singing. As a family we all sang, even those that couldn’t; my dad groaning like a grampus. But in appropriate places, like church. Never in a bank, perish the thought.
One tries to put oneself in another person’s shoes, but Emma Morano’s are a tight fit as far as I’m concerned, ‘specially her diet of a raw egg a day.
Yes Virginia, you are jolly well eighty years old. Promise I tried not to advertise it but the inner sixteen in me bobs up every now and then and I do love a party.
If you have been to Bethany, less than two miles from Jerusalem, you won’t have forgotten the stoniness of it or the light; a small village in New Testament times that was home to Lazarus and his sisters.
On Mother’s Day, this particular mother was given a milk bottle and a lunch box – two presents that truly surprised me.
British Summer Time has come at last! On January 2nd we thought it never would. Now, we have until the end of October to revel in longer days, warmer temperatures and all things wide awake.