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.

Summer - And Nothing More....

Oh hello, there you are, or rather, here we are, in the midst of Summer! Do you see that capital S there at the beginning of the word Summer? Well, I have to tell you, this year it has to have a capital S, because that is what we are having, a proper, capital, long-awaited, hot, hot summer. And it just keeps going on and on and on, and we are not complaining, not one bit!

So, the floors have a permanent dusting of sand, the chores are done to a minimum, for as happens most other years, no matter what the weather, we have simply dropped everything and just taken ourselves off to one beach or another, and let me tell you there have been quite a few, with more to come.

Ahh, the joys of living on an island! I estimate we will have been to no fewer than ten different beaches by summer's end, with definite potential for others I haven't accounted for yet. With such a variety of beaches so close to home (and some further afield) it is impossible to not take advantage of it. Some are perfect for swimming, some for body boarding, some for rock pooling, and some for building epic sandcastles!
I am so very grateful to still have children young enough to have an excuse for spending countless hours, days, just Being At The Beach.

And for the days when other things take us elsewhere, the best part is, we can walk out the door in the evening, before or after dinner, and stroll down to the seafront for a dip, pausing to chat with friends or neighbours we meet along the way, maybe stopping for an icecream, or occasional bag of salty chips, watching the fairground rides against the dimming sky as we wander back up the hill to home.

Moth Season.

There is a small window in my kitchen that stays open all summer long, unless the wind is chilly and from the wrong direction. It opens, just where I stand to make my morning tea, onto a wild and barely contained rugosa rose bush, that conceals all of the garden view, except a patch of sky. On rainy days the dripping green outside this window is like a doorway to an emerald kingdom where tiny creatures scurry and creep and scuttle. The scent of roses is subtle, but so intoxicating it transports me without effort, holds me in a green dream, even fleetingly, as I make tea, or prepare meals, like a small anchor in this sea of moments.

This morning is the first morning in a while that I am up significantly early to noticed the touch of autumn in the air that drifts in as the sun rises, and I am reminded of the swift approach of the end of the holidays, of school, ahead. Once again, each morning the walls of the house are lined with dustly moths, and in the evenings, the spiders line up along the windows like sentries. We are entering the cooling season, my favourite time of year, and the reeds in the marsh are almost at their fullest, the sound of now a late summer hush, as opposed to their winter rattle.

We have had a particularly wonderful summer. There has been lots of camping, lots of gatherings of friends, where we cram as many of us as possible into houses and tents, around kitchen tables, under gazebos, and make it last as long as we can, squeezing as much fun and games and food and laughter into our time together as we can. There has been a lot of rain, but lots of sunny days too, and we are excellent at seizing those and running out the door, so there have been lots of impromptu beach days too, the kind where we go up a hill and end up down on a beach, and then we cannot leave. The beach bag has a permanent spot in my car, just in case. And we are not done yet.
The result is a dusty house with the words Bare Minimum stamped in all the corners, on every pile of laundry and papers, a neglected blog, a car full of sand, but sun kissed, happy faces round the dinner table in the evenings.

We have also had a family wedding. A heartwarming, momentous wedding that was most definitely the highlight for us all.

So now we face The Winding Down, and I am eyeing those other to-do lists that involve the word 'school' in them, knowing I have put everything off until the last minute, knowing that this autumn brings significant changes to our little household, for me in particular, for, among other things, I must get a job. A proper, paid job. Something which every mother who stays home with her babies must do when the day comes, something which I have put off for a year and cannot justify any longer, and the artist in me balks at as I dream about the Making/Writing Hours to myself that I am giving up. But it is also something which I am excited about, albeit completely bemused by.
We shall see how that goes.

I am working on some other significant changes here at Milkmoon, too. Something which just seems like the right thing to do. I have come to realise that my dwindling commitment to this blog is nothing more than the fact that it hasn't evolved to reflect how things are changing for me personally, that I became little stuck, in terms of what I blog.
It's all good, and I do hope you think so too! It's something I am very excited about and look forward to  launching the all-new-and-improved Milkmoon in the next month.

Well, it's turning into a blustery day, but the sun is out, and so we are taking ourselves off out again.
That to-do list, and that pile of laundry, (okay, mountain of laundry), and all those dust bunnies, they'll have to wait another day.

A Mixed Bag.

Oh, what a time we have had lately. Thank heavens for school holidays! Honestly, I could write that last sentence here and just leave it at that. 

This blog post was started during the school holidays over Easter but obviously I got sidetracked! We've had a carnival of weather fronts around here, and although it has now settled somewhat, into typical late Spring weather, I thought I would share some of it with you.

A few weeks back we awoke to this, my favourite kind of day, the kind of day when the veils between the worlds melt away and we find ourselves in some Otherworld, where even sound becomes different, and our footsteps echo strangely, the quiet breath of imagined Other~lings cool against our cheek.

These kind of days take my feet on a wander, down to the sea shore, and away into the hills, where People seem to have retreated away from this world and do not walk the streets, but stay quietly indoors away from the damp, the strange stillness, awaiting the return of the sun.

But not me. No, my feet wander, my heart filled with the monochrome silence, happy to be Lost for a while...

And then, one morning soon after, we awaken to find that Spring has arrived, the bluebells nod outside the window, the air stirs a little warmer and the children shed their winter skins, coats discarded in the garden, shoes and socks kicked off, oh joy! at cool, dry grass between their toes!

And the days warmed so considerably that the sea began it's siren call, drawing us to it's shores, promising summer days to come, filled with sandcastles and picnics and lazy days with nowhere else to be.

And even though the days turned wild and stormy again, still the pounding sea could not quell that growing Summer-ing that has taken hold of us all, now that the evenings stretch out their arms, lingering just that little bit longer each day, shyly hoping we won't mind.

And we did retreat indoors for a while, the halls murmuring with little voices, important business of the day beginning early for some, and for a while the focus was on Home, and Time Spent Together.

But as I said, the Carnival continued, and the sun simply could not stay away.

It's times like these, when little boys are being Little Boys, taking life by the horns with gusto, and revelling in the light and the few extra degrees in the air they storm through, building tents and making go-carts, and doing it all themselves when the grown-ups are too busy to help, it's times like these I catch in my heart, hold tenderly and with complete focus, for I know oh too well they melt away all too soon, drift away into teenagedom and a bigger world.

And although it's behind us now, here's a picture of this year's Easter tree.

We had a lovely break, with family time in abundance and not much else, other than good food and attention to detail.

But tonight, with a storm warning in effect, we baton down the hatches, and await the next dip in this roller coaster that is Springtime Weather, dolefully eye our sagging, leaky sand bags, and hoping the sea stays where it's supposed to, over the next few days!

I hope you are all warm and dry, wherever you are!

After The Long Hiatus, Unplanned, A Recap.

First things first, dear readers, a Happy New Year to you one and all. I do hope the holiday brought good cheer and festive shenanigans, with lots of jovial folk around you!

Ours was lovely, with lots of walks and baking and visiting and do-nothing days. We've sadly had no snow so far this year, although last years white Christmas was a spectacular anomaly, and we do hope we get some yet.

And so, a quick recap of the season's festivities in the Milkmoon household:

Walking the Solstice Spiral in school.

Christmas Eve in our kitchen.

St. Stephen's Day walk.

Out Walking.

My MIL's Christmas tree.

Visiting Family, Friends, Neighbours.

Every good wish to you all, dear friends, for bountiful blessings,

both big and small, for the coming year.

May you be surrounded by lots and lots of love and happiness.

Follow Me....

...come into the woods, 

for I'm afraid we are not ready to leave yet, no,

but give me your hand and we will take you with us and you will see why.

Into the cool green we go, the seeping damp, the air surprisingly warm on our skin. We follow the path, a slow meander, voices murmuring through the trees, quiet footsteps ahead, the rustle of leaves, the distant chirp and chatter of birds.

Hurry now, and hush, for there is One who must not hear us. Quick! Light feet and haste!

 Here we are now, look, everyone is here, I don't think we are last. There is a little work to be done, for we are here for a very special reason.

There is a birthday, here in the woods. A Very Significant 8th Birthday, and we have been invited along to celebrate.

There is a flurry of activity as little wood nymphs and rabbits dash and scamper and scuttle, pulling streamers out of the trees, balloons out of burrows.

A mad dash to prepare, arrange and assemble, for the Birthday Girl has not arrived yet. And she does not even know we are here!

So, as she is 'out for a walk' in the woods with her Nan, the bustle of activity continues, until all is ready, all is set.

And so we wait.

Until it is time to gather together the scattered dearlings, the wayward rabbits and knights, the Tweedledums and Tweedledees, and hustle them all out of the clearing, for a little bird has told us She is on her way!

And for a moment this little dell rings with excited shrieks and squeals and hoarse whispered shouts,

'She is coming!! Quick! Hide! Everyone hide!'

And then a giggling hush descends, and everyone takes their place, the excitement quivering in the air, a tremor in the leaves.

'Here she is!'

Oh the little face as she is surrounded by her family and friends as they spill out of the trees around her, the round eyes and astonished countenance, and we all cheer and clap and our voices echo up into the treetops above:

Happy Birthday to you ♪♫•*¨*•.¸¸♥ ¸¸.•*¨*•♫♪ ♪♫•*¨*•.¸¸♥ ¸¸.•*¨*•♫♪ Happy Birthday to you ♪♫•*¨*•.¸¸♥ ¸¸.•*¨*•♫♪Happy Birthday Dear Darling♪♫•*¨*•.¸¸♥ ¸¸.•*¨*•♫♪ ♪♫•*¨*•♫ Happy Birthday to you!♪♫•*¨*•.¸¸♥ ¸¸.•*¨*•♫♪♪♫•*¨*•.¸¸♥ ¸¸.•*¨*•♫♪ ♪♫•*¨*•♫.........

And then the games begin in ernest, the cakes magically disappear, and the Birthday Girl, aka The White Queen, holds court and regales us with fantastical Tales of Great Adventures.

And the day draws in, the sunlight finds us and persuades us to stay, the forest echoes with the glad little voices. A joyful sound that will linger long after we are gone.

And happiness gathers.

Oh! Are you leaving? Must you?

No, we are staying, for just a while longer. 

The weather is mild and surprisingly dry for November, we have sandwiches and tea, and birthday cake to come. 

We love it here. We are not ready to go. 

Just yet.