Just Before You Go, Summer.....

Well, these last few mornings there is a definite autumny shiver in the early air, the top of Bray Head has a wooly cap of damp clouds just sitting on it, and the milky sunlight filters through the apple boughs that are literally bowing under their swag. School is looming, literally imminently, and we are getting ready to embrace our first autumn in a house with heating in it! Suddenly, my love for this season has grown tenfold.
Fittingly, a whole new chapter is beginning for me, in so many ways I couldn't list them here, their microscopicness adding up to a Significantness that thrills me and excites me and has me revving to go.

But first, as a Last Blast before that school business is upon us, and to celebrate the return of my man, we took ourselves off on a little adventure, back across this island of ours again, this time out into the west of Ireland. Poor Jay missed all our traipsing and trekking, all our adventuring on beaches and down boreens, and all the fine, unexpected weather we had, so we just had to squeeze something in. And if this mild weather continues into the autumn, we will just do the same, we will take it and run with it for as long as we can.

We rolled along the winding roads, under those white skies that shower occasional fine rain, that sit high and hard above us, not gloomy, but with a bright glare that turns the landscape into a glowing, magical vista. Everything about it so familiar to myself and Jay, though it's been two decades since we were here, and I found my heart filled with fondness, with tender memories of those young things we were when last we walked the streets of Galway city. Oh how we have changed!

And of course, there had to be a beach, and an extra special one this time, a glowing wonder of a coral beach, the likes of which I'd never seen. The water appeared tropical in it's hues, set as it is against the glow of the coral sand, but I can vouch that it is by no means tropical! It was cold! But in we got, regardless, and it was delicious.

We took a winding road back, the scenic route, stopping whenever we fancied. Meandering, I think is the word, and I savoured the pleasure of unhurried meandering, for I know it is coming to an end now, for another year.

But in the midst of my lament for the end of summer, I admit, I have never felt so ready to get back into the swing and routine of school, of all that autumn brings.
In spite of missing Jay, or perhaps because of it, along with the good weather, we have had The Best Summer Ever. We had to, or it would have been unbearably lonely without him. I have never been more grateful for the brilliant timing of a Random Act of Nature, for this out of the blue amazing summer we had, for it allowed us an excuse to make the most of it, and get out there and enjoy it.

And so, back home now, it's the first day of school, for some, and as I sit with my steaming cup, looking out my window at the slightly worn and fading green that looks partied out and hung over,  the early morning sun is now creeping over the top of the headland, and I hear the first stirrings upstairs, the creak of floorboards above my head, the murmur of sleepy voices. 

And so it begins.

Holding Fast.

I'm afraid I'd have nothing more to show you here but more beaches, for there have been many more since last I wrote.
There has also been occasional rainy days, though there is a faint whisper of autumn in the morning now, and the apple tree in the garden is laden with red, ripening fruit, and we are beginning to tingle with that sense of urgency now, to cram in as much Summer as we can before the leaves begin to turn.
Yet again, Jay has been away for six weeks now, has missed this marvelous summer we have had, all the way across the other side of the world, in Australia. We have kept ourselves busy, true, but it's not the same without him.

Portrait Of My Sleeping Husband.
(I did this of Jay just before he left)

We are counting the days until we see him, and then there will be yet more cramming while we ignore the calendar that goes on counting down without us, to the return of School. That we will ignore, yes, until the last possible day, and take ourselves off again, over the mountains to visit some dear friends, and then on until we reach the other side of this island.

We will not think of that other S word until the bell rings and we really have to.

In the next day or so, I will have something new to share. And maybe some of those beaches.

Where I Think You Are When You Are Not Here.

This last week, I spent mostly in my car, zooming around the greening land, like a busy spider weaving a web in haste and without time.
Jay has flown again, to the Land of the Rising Sun, and as I have never been there, I cannot image him anywhere solid, but instead he floats, Somewhere Out There, like a sleeping balloon man whose ribbon I hold in my hand without thinking. You know when you are holding something you never want to put down, but you carry on with your day, and forget it is there, except for a vague awareness of how hot and clammy your hand has become, or how awkward or difficult things are with only one hand.
And so above me he follows me, floats, sleeping, throughout my day, and Up There, where I cannot see, he drifts through beautiful moss gardens that drip with water, where the breeze rustles the leaves over his head, tickles his sleeping beard, and stirs the bamboo, making them clack together, through bright lights of city nights, between gleaming glass towers that shower him in little bokeh balls of sunlight.

Though I know in reality he is not at all sleeping and dreaming, that in fact he is actually more likely running, just running, flat out through the night, leaping over obstacles, throwing aside impediments, barely pausing to rest, running to get home to us. And I like to think he too holds my ribbon, and somewhere above him, I am streaming out behind him, floating in a sunlit garden where children play and laugh, and we bake cakes and read to one another, pausing to tickle the cats, lie in the grass and watch the clouds roll around the sky, and thinking about what to make for dinner.

Of Bungled Plans, And Some Birthdays.

Three days past now, Milkmoon turned four. And I missed it! Oh my..... 

I did remember last week, and there were plans for a make-over and a giveaway, which I hasten to add will still go ahead, they will. But then my technical advisor was whisked away to Tokyo, at rather short notice, and I quietly folded my plans away into a shoebox and placed it on a sunlit shelf in my studio, to wait.

In my mother's kitchen,
she pauses to light the candles.

But just before he left, we had a birthday. Eight years ago our bonny babe no.3 was born here in our sitting room, all 11lbs (5kilos) of him, and such a ray of sunshine he has turned out to be. An all-singing, all-dancing, most agreeable cabaret of a lad, if ever there was one!

And so our week has been, as usual, a hectic one. A blustery, wind-swept, whiplash sort of a week that careened between autumnal gloomy rain-drenching days, and hot sirocco-like days, that found us mostly over-dressed, peeling off layers as we went, kicking off our shoes and longing for cool water on our toes.

There is a strange thing that happens when one tenacious season will not let go, isn't there? An odd sort of waiting. We stand in the wings, costumes in hand, just waiting for our cue to don them, but each time we do, we must remove them in haste as we are overcome, yet again....*sigh*
Let autumn begin proper, please, I say, as I eye my favourite tweedy skirt, woolen scarves and ankle length coat, and hats! Oh yes, hats, please!

But for now we will bide our time, scuffing our toes in the last of the warmth before the sun begins to thin, and we have to scramble and savour any heat we can find.
Although I was better, I am hobbling again, and so trying to slow things down a little, (yes, I did say 'slow things down', though when I say those words, I do hear manic laughter echoing somewhere in the background...)  and I have plans to actually get into my studio this week and get stuck into an exciting project I have in mind.

Ah, yes, the studio. Did I mention it before? I think possibly not. I may do a little feature to show you around, and you can peek into some shoeboxes and tins and see what we can find. I am still unpacking hence the shoeboxes etc but do stop by later this week to see where we are, and pop in for a cup of tea when I am settled in.

But in the meantime.

I'll be right here, fixing myself up and finding new homes for everything, unpacking and unwrapping and setting things to rights.

And waiting for the technical advisor to make his way home again.....

Did I Miss Anything?

I'm still here, chasing sun and waves and music and time out.
We were not finished with sickness in this house. It's been the worst year ever, but hopefully we have turned the corner now, and everyone is determined to enjoy themselves as the sun comes out, the school year winds down, and thoughts turn to frivolity and fun.
I am having problems with uploading photos, hence the dodgey iPhone shots on this post, which I hope lend a certain nostalgic dreaminess to it.
I have been out, as I said, finding thrills in all kinds of places, such as spectacular live shows like this one.

Sufjan Stevens in the Olympia, Dublin.

I travelled north west, to the wild, wild sea for a weekend of surfing, (yes, you did read that right!), incredible seafood, and the best company. A weekend of switching off and winding down and getting away from it all. Something I haven't done in years and years and years.

I liked it....a lot.

Bundoran.

The important things: great company, great food.

And with Jay finally home, we have managed to escape a little too, off into the city, in the sun, for more live music.

Summer in the city.

Phosphorescent, The Workman's Club, Dublin.

And yes, the sun is making a gradual comeback, and we have seized it and run with it, run to the beach.

Silver Strand.

So hopefully normal blogging will resume in the next day or so. In the meantime, in about five minutes I will be off out the door to walk (let's be realistic!) the Dublin Women's Mini-Marathon. And if any of you fancy sponsoring me, it's for a very good cause. Here is the link to my donation page, as well as information about the charity of my choice, CARI (Children At Risk in Ireland)

The sun is shining here, I do hope it is shining wherever you are too!

Warmly And Affectionately Yours....

Where does the time go? Does it sneak out the open window when my back is turned? A slippery trickster who somehow can be too much or too little at the same time, it seems, and never whichever one you most want.
Jay has been gone a month now, and we are on the final countdown to his return in a few days. And in these weeks that seemed to stretch interminably we have somehow done very little, yet a lot has happened.

For example......

....these five little dearlings arrived quietly in the night a week ago. Five little bundles of joy that have leant the house a hush, a desire to creep and whisper and peek every so silently around the door at this little nest of sweetness. There is something so heartening and reassuring about tiny baby animals, it brings out the softness in even the coolest teenagers! And what is most heartening is that each of these little things is going to a home we know and love so we will be able to continue with the sweet love affair that has begun here in our home.

We have, as always, been surrounded by the most wonderful friends who fed and entertained us beyond measure, and who remind me just how lucky I am to have somehow landed in this place that seems to have an excess of Remarkable Humans who take the true meaning of friendship to heart and deliver every time.

And they also brought much sustenance, joy and laughter, through two suspected cases of Fifth's Disease, a dose of Chicken Pox, which was swiftly followed Croup. *sigh* I may be wrong, but these things only ever seem to happen to this extent when Jay is away....!
And on the subject of joy, can I just share this wonder with you? Elaine Prunty, she of Jaboopee fame created one of her marvellous Toy Portraits of this little family of mine. I Laughed Out Loud upon opening the package that Jimmy the Postman brought to my door, so thrilled and delighted to receive it.

L to R: The Eldest, My Only Girl, The Dude, The Smallest, Me (yes, the taxi driver!), and My Hero. 

So now, as the last few days tick by, and as Jay's homecoming approaches, it feels as though I have got the better of time for a while, (until that is, I read back at just how little writing I got done, and how little blogging too!) I take a moment to look around and once again feel a deep Gratitude for all that I have.

Turning My Face To The Steadfast Sun.

8.12am and the house is still quiet. It's the Easter holidays after all. My usual routine is to put on the kettle, then go and browse as I decide where to look for this mornings soundtrack. But today as I make my morning pot of coffee, for once I hold off on pressing the play button. Instead I savour the silence and I listen. To the ticking clock, the birdsong just outside the window, the water just beginning to boil, and just before that takes over, in the distance the sound of the surf hitting the stones. There is a blue haze over the mountain, indistinct wispy cloud cover, altogether another day that promises gold.

We are four days in to the holidays now, and four days in to another three week stint away from Jay. To keep to our usual pattern, so far the car has behaved itself, but we do have one (possibly two) unwell little boys. It's always one or the other.

But the sun is shining. And there is no school. And that makes it all the difference.

I hope the sun is shining wherever you are!

Something In The Air.

Although the cold has not given up the ghost, creeping as it does around the edges of our recent days, still we are warmed by the defiant sun that holds on to more and more minutes of each passing day like a champion.

We are back to school now and enjoying the brighter mornings, the lingering evenings. Grabbing time outdoors whenever we can. Taking deep lungfulls of Spring, offering our skin to the warming air in tiny increments, willing the sun to find us.
And find us it does, most days.

There is an air of busyness about town, found in the flurries and flocks of birds that climb the sky above our heads, wheeling in joyful dedication, thrilled even more than we are to see the returning light.

And we cannot help ourselves: in our hearts we are soaring with them!

This morning, a crowd of curlews chased one another above the marsh, calling and keening, their wings pale against the dark of the evergreen trees beyond, catching the sunlight and holding on to it for us.

We are climbing up out of the winter circle, out of the slumbering earth.

Breaking forth.

~*~

Today I am grateful to have both Jay and my parents home safely at last.

I Was Taken Away...

Thank you all, for your warm wishes and sweet words. I've had a magical week.

Almost every day this week I was meeting with friends, breakfasting here, lunching there, being fed and spoilt, and pampered and gifted. It was wonderful. Absolutely wonderful. And I'd like to dedicate this post to all those dear folk, you know who you are!

Then, after depositing the children to my most generous (and uncomplaining) parents, on Friday myself and Jay rose in the small hours of the freezing morning and drove to the airport. I had no idea, until we were at the airport, where we were going!

All photos taken on my phone as my camera was on holiday too!

LONDON!

Books...

A favourite place of ours, and although it's only a couple of years since we were there, it's many more since we were there without any little people along. 

And so, we spent a weekend wandering the streets, Covent Garden, Charing Cross, Primrose Hill, Portobello, Notting Hill, browsing bookshops and markets for hours.

Books...

And the highlight was a most exhilarating, spine-tingling, magical night with some dear friends, Tom  and Nina, (thank you!!!) who brought us to see this incredible performer, Jónsi, who is someone both myself and Jay love, which is rare enough! It was, I think the best show I've seen, in the best year of amazing gigs I've ever had. And the most visually stunning. Take a look here and here  to see what I mean. It was an Icelandic cornucopia of falling leaves, tidal waves, flocks of birds and butterflies, racing, chasing animals, and thunderstorms that breathlessly swept you away. I was moved to tears on more than one occasion, and the show is something that is impossible to do any justice to here. This man is a wonder. And I was left wondering just what creates someone with such vision and beauty and absolute magic that seems to explode out of his very pores.
I thought my heart would burst right out of my chest, and I was left feeling battered and bruised and elated all at once, such is the power of his music.
An amazing night, truly, and one I will never forget.

We packed a lot into our two days, and although it was cold, it was the most perfect, crisp, blue-sky kind of weather that made walking around very pleasant, once we were dressed for it!

And of course, when it's cold what do you do but eat! Which we did. Heartily. And often.
And while we didn't do much in the way of shopping, just being away, being able to sleep in, and wander and browse, is as much a tonic as anything.

...and more books!

The other highlight for us was visiting The Museum of Everything in Primrose Hill, which is holding an exhibition of the Collections of Sir Peter Blake. It was one of the most wonderful, surreal and completely Marvellous shows I have ever seen. Unfortunately photography is forbidden, with signs like "No Photography = £1000" and "No Photography = Death"! so I have nothing to show for it, and even their website, frustratingly, has no images. But it does have lots of links so if you have the time, do explore them, and be prepared to be amazed. Let's just say it is a magical, marvellous, experience, and at the same time strangely sad.
And if by any chance you will be in London any time soon, I urge you to pay it a visit.

A visit to the fabulous Pedlars shop in Notting Hill.

It was wonderful to have some quiet time to hang out together, after all the chaos and busyness of everyday-life-with-four-children and work taking Jay to the oddest corners of the world. We both agreed another two days wouldn't have gone amiss.

Thank you Jay, for an amazing weekend!

We came home to a snowy, winter wonderland, (more on that later), to happy children, to tired grandparents, and to not just a house warmed for us, but to dinner cooked for us, by Lisa. So thank you, thank you, thank you to you all! 

I feel incredibly blessed.

It was a wonderful birthday week.

Quite Early One Morning.

I took a short walk down the garden, and contemplated the arrival of Winter.

I took a few minutes to pause and breathe and wonder.

A few moments in which to gather myself.

To let go of the whirlwind of chaotic madness that took over my life for the last few days.

The running round chasing my tail driving endless forking out meeting needs hugs and kisses bumped knees shouting laughing toast and jam soup fireside stories bedtime waking up time bath time homework washing clothes friends coffee driving nagging nursing hugging walking breathing dreaming loving...
driving
driving
driving...

Yes. Jay is away again. And someone always gets sick!

Roll on the weekend...

Glimmer Lantern Glimmer.

I thought I would share with you another post from our now defunct blog I mentioned before. This is something that we won't get to celebrate this year on the day as we have someplace else to be!

Tonight, my man, Jay, is having an exhibition opening in Dublin, so if any of you happen to be around then do join us! You can read about it here. So in the midst of him preparing for this we have had a run of sick kiddies and storm and flood warnings, all mixed in to the general daily tizzy and winter wildness settling in. Great fun!
I do hope to actually do this lantern a walk at the weekend, or the next. I am so mindful of all the things I did with the older two that the younger two might miss out on simply because life is twice as hectic.

So without further ado...

~*~

There is a lovely tradition we try to celebrate every year which I first came across through some Steiner/Waldorf friends. It is usually celebrated on Martinmas eve which is the 11th November, although it is a lovely thing to do once the darkness draws in and the evenings shorten, a simple symbolic way to entice the light back.

The basic premise is that the children make lanterns and then take a candle lit walk in the dark dark woods! You can either make them together as part of your evening together, or everyone can do them at home and then get together.

There are so many types of lanterns to make. What we did was very simple. 

You will need:

A glass jar for each child.

A roll of thin wire eg. florists wire.

Some sheets of coloured tissue paper.

Some pva glue in a small container like an egg cup.

A small brush for each child.

A tealight for each jar.

To begin, tear the tissue paper into small pieces.

Start painting glue onto the glass jar and press pieces of the tissue paper onto it. Continue until the jar is covered.

Once the glue is dry, measure a length of wire to form a long loop, plus extra to wrap around the neck of the jar. Secure it by twisting the ends tightly around the wire where it meets the vertical lengths.

It's important to have a long loop so as to avoid little hands getting too close to the candle!

Once everyone has gathered together outside, the adults can help light the candles. Then we can set off into the dark, dark woods.

These next few photos were taken with a flash so of course it loses the candlelit atmosphere.

It was equal parts thrilling and slightly scary, even for the older children!

They really do get such a thrill out of doing something they would rarely get to otherwise.

There are simple little songs that are traditionally sung for the duration of the walk. It helps if a few people know them to start off.  But any song that includes light or sun would do. The walk by the way need only be ten to fifteen minutes long. Believe me, after ten to fifteen minutes tripping through the darkness, their imaginations start to take off, and it's not long before everyone is ready to head indoors for some warming soup!