My daughter, who rivals Wikipedia in the breadth of her encyclopedic knowledge of random facts, tells me that ye olde Romans would mark fortunate days on a calendar with a white stone. I like that.
Today, 4th September, is the anniversary of a fortunate day in my life. I have no white stones. I am not Roman ( in case you are wondering 😉 ). But I do have some lovely white markers to place on this day.
This is what is going on my calendar:
a marker to represent my land;
a marker for my neighbourhood;
a marker to celebrate my garden;
and a marker to honour my home.
Can you guess why this date is a white-stone one for me? If not, tune in to my next post. 🙂
Whilst I am remembering a fortunate day, I must also pause and remember another 4th September, four years ago. It dawned an impossibly beautiful, blue-sky, spring day, but but it was black, black, black, and the Romans would, quite rightly, have suggested a black stone for the calendar.
A big thank you to my brother for the first photo taken in the Rakaia Gorge.
An equally big thank you to my daughter for her translation of Catullus*