follow the Vicar of Bray down the rabbit hole

'Still, it might not be a bad idea, every time you commit an anti-social act, to make a note of it in your diary, and then, at the appropriate season, push an acorn into the ground. And even if one in twenty of them came to maturity, you might do quite a lot of harm in your lifetime, and still like the Vicar of Bray, end up as a public benefactor after all.'

Coming on new ideas and resilience.  This morning I happened upon the American Rebecca Solnitt, she had written a 'long article' in the Guardian.  Her arguments about fighting back over the great problem of our future under Climate change  is to the point, and of course stresses that it is up to all of us to bring about change.

She has written quite a few books, and from what I can see of the titles that she has written are around her life.  She is criticised by  one critic of going from one story or incident to another without joining the thinking of how they relate to each other.

But her latest book is interesting, it is about Eric Ernest Blair or using his pen name George Orwell and his gardening experience.  Whenever we speak of this author it is with reference to  social conscience writing about poverty in the times that he lived but there is no lightness of touch, or what he did when he was not writing.  

Well Rebecca Solnitt, decided to come to England to explore what she wanted to write about.  It was about 'Orwell's Roses', he had carefully noted that he had planted 7 roses, some fruit trees and two gooseberries.  So 80 years later she went to the  rented cottage in which he lived for a few years to see if they still existed.  Maybe they do for there were still roses there but no fruit trees.

The book itself according to this article is not wholly focussed on Orwell but meanders from subject to subject in a loose manner. What of course it brings to mind though is a different aspect of Orwell, a man who was both practical and in need of a break from the rather heavy subjects he wrote about and of course his great love of gardening

Actually meandering from subject to subject appeals to me, it is what I call the 'magpie mind' taking the glittering jewel like words from the page and thinking about them.

Many of us love roses, flamboyant or elegant they display with an extravagance few other flowers have. They clean the soul.  There is even a rose bush on Orwell's grave.  I have planted many in my lifetime as well as fruit trees, and whilst reading came across an essay Orwell wrote on 'The Vicar of Bray', a clergy man who changed his opinions and loyalty to ever who was governing at the time.