Archive for the ‘Fernlea House’ Category

Pastel Drawing: Reflections
May 16, 2013

DSCN2380A golden ring of self containment and sufficiency

A fountain of life

Droplets rippling out, impacting on people in different ways

Calm, Serene

Water lilies reaching for light from the murky, muddy depths which nourish the roots.

A reminder that grief for one death can awaken past griefs for lost dreams, wounds, missed opportunities, disappointments, loss of others.

A reminder that our actions and words ripple out into the world we inhabit affecting others in ways observed and unobserved.

A reminder that our actions and words need to spring from a place of gratitude, compassion and love


If we can’t manage that,

At least a place of honesty and authenticity,

If we are to bring light and life to our world.

Thursday, 4th August 2011.

I drew this picture to honour Frances Folletta, the Volunteer Co-ordinator at Fernlea House, who died Wednesday, the 6th of July 2011.


In Memory
July 24, 2012

The Glory of Life is Love

The Glory of Life is not that it endures forever,

 but that, for a time,

it includes so much that is beautiful.

It is a tree to those who grasp it,

and happy are all who retain it.

Its ways are ways of pleasantness,

and all its paths are peaceful.

We do not demand that the flower shall never die,

nor that the song shall never end.

Nor would we be angry with life because one day its beauty will be dust,

its music silent, and all its laughter and tears forgotten.

Life, the reality, is ours: we would shape it as nobly as we can.

We will not linger, like timid sailors in port,

but will live dangerously, devoting ourselves with vigour

to what seems to us good, beautiful and true.

The Glory of  Life is Love. Unending.

This reading formed part of the Fernlea House commemorative celebration held on the 8th of July 2012 to honour the memory of those guests, staff and family members who had died over the past 12 months. 

I dedicate this reading to the memory of my aunt, Anne, who died of cancer on the 16th of July 2012.

 Anne and I took great pleasure in wandering around gardens which opened during the Festival of Gardens held every two years in and around Castlemaine.

We lingered and admired the gardens lovingly created by their owners,

We sniffed perfumed blooms and picked dead heads from the irises,

We sat on garden seats, gazing dreamily into the distance deep in contemplation,

We chatted to the owners, patted their cats, dogs and alpacas and startled the goldfish,

We sipped cups of tea and sampled scones and slices.

Anne’s day was not complete until she returned to the car laden with the plants she had purchased.