In memory of little Malty

Little Malty's first day at "Riverbend" in 2001

 

The Rainbow Bridge ℬy the edge of the woods, at the foot of the hill, Is a lush green meadow where time stands still. Where the friends of man and woman do run, When their time on earth is over and done. For here, between this world and the next, Is a place where each beloved creature finds rest. On this golden land, they wait and they play, Till the Rainbow Bridge they cross over one day. No more do they suffer in pain or in sadness, For here they are whole, their lives filled with gladness. Their limbs are restored, their health renewed, Their bodies have healed with strength imbued. They romp through the grass, and sniff at the air, All ears prick forward, eyes dart front and back, Then all of a sudden, one breaks from the pack, For just at that instant, their eyes have met: Together again, both person and pet. So they run to each other, these friends from long past, The time of their parting is over at last. The sadness they felt while they were apart, Has turned into joy once more in each heart. They embrace with a love that will last forever, And then side by side, they cross over ... together.

 

On this day two years ago we said good-bye to our wonderful friend Malty.

Rest in Peace, our loyal friend. You will forever be in our hearts.

Padma & Peter

 

 

Winter at "Riverbend"

 

The origin of tea began, it is said, when Daruma, a Buddhist saint, irresponsibly fell asleep over his devotions, and, upon awakening, was so distraught that he cut off his eyelids and threw them to the ground where they took root and grew up as a bush, the leaves of which, when dried and infused in hot water, produced a beverage that would banish sleep.

It would take a lot more than the thought of cut-off eyelids to put me off my first hot cup of tea of the day taken by the window overlooking the river when it is shrouded in early-morning mist. A Chinese ink painting in motion!

Last night was the longest night of the year which I spent sleeping in front of the fireplace which is the nicest possible thing to do. I can't image that somebody could go through life without ever having toasted marshmellows or prodded glowing coal or made dream pictures in flames or listened to the crackling and the hissing and the sighing and strange whimpering of a knotted log - or just dozed off in front of a fire.

Winter at "Riverbend" is a time of hibernation and introspection, of watching DVDs, reading books, playing chess, or simply dozing off in front of the fireplace.

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