the skinflint philosopher

Attempting to thrift our way to a better life, with a toddler in tow!


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The deep heart’s core

We have had a quiet sitting-around-in-bed kind of day as Tiddler was up most of last night with undiagnosed but weird and wonderful symptoms that ranged from high temperature and ice-block feet, to an elusive moment when I seriously thought she was talking in tongues.
The weather outside is consistently damp, grey and windy, so I am happy to snuggle in and take time out from the real world with her. In the quiet lassitude I think of Yeats’ Lake Isle of Innisfree, for it is worth recalling on a regular basis, and I think about Tiddler’s warm milk and biscuity smell, the soft tickle of her hair against my cheek, the clasp of her hand in mine. Love and yearning can be a person, a place, a state of mind.
Make sure you Arise, and Go.
I will arise and go now, and go to Innisfree,
And a small cabin build there, of clay and wattles made;
Nine bean-rows will I have there, a hive for the honey-bee,
And live alone in the bee-loud glade.
 
And I shall have some peace there, for peace comes dropping slow,
Dropping from the veils of the morning to where the cricket sings;
There midnight’s all a glimmer, and noon a purple glow,
And evening full of the linnet’s wings.
 
I will arise and go now, for always night and day
I hear lake water lapping with low sounds by the shore;
While I stand on the roadway, or on the pavements grey,
I hear it in the deep heart’s core.
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