We're Going To The End Of Ireland.

In the words of my six year old, we are off to the end of Ireland.

A little holiday, though without Jay, down in Clonakilty, Co. Cork. A visit to my oldest and dearest friend.

We'll be back sometime next weekend.

I think...

Though I have left one Week of Pictures post for you, due up here on Sunday.

Have a great week, where ever you get to!

Thoughts While Out Picking Fruit.

When Summer starts to feel like Autumn,

I like to be reminded

we are still only halfway through

the holidays.

So a phone call from my brother

and we find ourselves driving

with our mother,

and my children,

up the Dublin mountains,

winding along on unfamiliar roads,

in search of a long ago, childish memory.

Of hot summer days spent picking strawberries,

complaining loudly about how boring it was,

and eating as much as we could,

secretly delighting in the intoxicating smell and colour of it all,

and the anticipation of jam! at the end of it all.

We found familiar, long forgotten roads on our way,

roads that motorways have taken away from us,

roads of our childhood.

Roads that stirred memories of funny family stories,

and people no longer with us.

And though we were clearly not seasoned early risers,

and pickings were slim on the ground,

we gathered raspberries

and filled our buckets as best we could,

intoxicated by the scent

and the anticipation of jam!

And the sun did not shine,

and no one complained,

and the journey home was filled with quiet,

and that intoxicating scent of summers past.

And I like to think these little things we do every day,

memories are made as easily as this,

someday to be taken out by one or other of these children of mine,

taken out and given a little shake and then smoothed out at the edges,

and not reexamined

but gently inhaled.

And they will be taken to a distant place they once were together,

when life was straightforward and full of simple passions,

and they can smile and nod to one another,

and maybe not even talk about it.

But it's enough.

Things We Found.

When they tore down the wall,

there,

hidden,

by some unknown hand,

a newspaper page.

From 1928.

And behind a wall of old, old books,

which I always meant to look through, but never found the time,

until now,

this wallpaper.

I fancy from the same era.

Faded and still so beautiful.

Too aged to remove in one,

I fought to keep a little piece.

And have it now,

to remember these workmen of old,

who walked this floor,

and knew the view from my backdoor,

and signed their names on a post

and hid it within these walls.

I'll keep this too,

for you, whoever you were,

James Kiernan, Kilcoole Station. 1928.

Things We Found.

Renovating part of our house over the last three weeks has been revealing in so many ways. There has been a number of things from another era that we found or uncovered and I would love to share with you. So with that in mind I have a few posts lined up for the next few days.

But first I thought I'd share something a bit more recent, but that was mislaid and turned up in all the moving and shifting that is going on.

It's a poem that My Only Girl wrote last year when she was ten.

A Country Life.

May make-up be every girls priority,

But me I like the forestry,

Down the road and by the shed,

I delight in seeing it from my bed.

At night the moon it glistens far

beyond my room, beyond the farm.

It sees things that I cannot see,

like sleepy little bumble bees.

In summer I am happy to see

the trees are growing wild and free.

Unlike the ones in winter's crawl,

they're fresh and green and never fall.

By Me age 10.

A Week Of Pictures.

So much happening here, between family, building, and everything that they involve.

And I know posts have been thin on the ground, and I'm cheating by just doing posts like this, but I promise next week we'll be back on track.

In my kitchen one morning.

Eeeww! Pigs!

The quiet in the glade.

At the The Hermitage.

Through the doorway.

Wow!

(You should have seen The Smallest's face...)

From inside.

Judith's door, The Hermitage.

In my hallway. Where will we put them all now?

Seize the day, sunshine or not.

What they found abandoned.

My Sister Emma.

After a gap of two years, my only sister is home.

All the way from Alabama.

We anticipate days like this one we had yesterday.

Where the little ones get to know her all over again.

And we hang out together.

And meet with friends.

I just know the weeks will fly by far too fast,

so without monopolising her,

we have plans to monopolise her...

a teensy bit.

A Week Of Pictures.

Sunset.

Summer flowers.

Play.

Morning sun, Greystones.

Kate's garden.

Abundance.

As though a memory...

The remains of how it was.

A Sort of Heaven.

When it comes to friends, and the people we choose to have in our lives, it's no surprise we are happiest when we surround ourselves with people who reflect the world as we want it to be.

I escaped to chaos that is home,

and came to this place.

Bringing my children,

even the ones too cool for the country!

And even those cool ones,

ran and chased and played.

And had nothing but books and air and sunlight to entertain them.

And a movie at bedtime,

A row of heads in a cosy makeshift bed on the floor.

And in the morning,

gathering eggs for pancakes,

and leaves for lunch,

and berries for whenever they felt like it.

And there was time to sit.

And just be together.

And to talk and see the world from another perspective,

where there is hope and hard work and reward.

And there was time to wander and to wonder.

And be reminded of some of the things that have slipped out of my grasp in the last two years.

A reaffirming of my mother-priorities.

The ones I had held onto so firmly, for so long,

but that somehow, four tipped the scales away from, in another unwieldy direction,

for a moment.

And there it was,

right with me all along.

As simple as stopping and listening.

And I left these humble giants that I call my friends,

as always, with a renewed sense of my Self,

and my place in the world,

and my purpose.

And what I want for these children of mine.

Happy Daze!

Well, we're away off down the country for a couple of days to visit this lovely place again. So it'll be a few days before I post again. 

Here's a sweet happy song to make you smile!

See you soon!

A Week Of Pictures.