The Tides Of Summer Rolling In.

Like an old friend, Summer has arrived again. Arrived and shaken out her bag, and we clamour round to peer in expectation, revealing a sparkling array of gatherings, of friends and family and celebrations.

And so we have been busy!

Making the most of the warmer weather, we have been shindigging and sharing, gathering and convening in all manners, spending time with family and friends.

We celebrated the arrival of summer, and the arrival of My Only Sister and her Darling Cherub all the way from the US, with our Annual Summer Solstice Party, a gathering of particular meaning and importance to me. And to be honest, what I would write here about that night I could not better what I wrote last year about it.

What is it? What is it in us humans that drives us to come together and share food and swap news and smooth out the wrinkles of time that have accumulated between us since last we saw one another until there are none? 

For all my pre-party stress I would not give this up. Even if I find that I miss out on actually speaking to some who come, for sheer want of just sitting down for a spell! This Gathering Together, this reconnecting, or indeed forging new connections, is the beat of my heart, is what fuels my passage through this blessed life I have been bestowed with. It is the oxygen in my blood.

Photo by Líosa.

And as I said before , if ever I need an affirmation, if ever I need an injection of wonder, of heartening wonder at the circle of life, then this annual event is just that. 

To witness, by virtue of this One Day a year, the passage through life of all these children as they swarm around us momentarily, and then fly off into the distant sun, they're wings outstretched in joyful anticipation, this is what gives me wings too.

So, as the air grows milder in this temperate isle of ours, as we brave our mediocre summer, we will, in true stalwart Irish fashion, make the most of it and carry on as though we basked in hot sun, regardless. We will take ourselves off to visit friends, and call them to visit us.

We will break bread and touch our glasses together, salute the long days. Give thanks for the bounty of friendship, more than anything, and the means to celebrate it.

And in doing so, I like to think somewhere, deep in their bones, our children will find these threads are woven tight, and so will continue this weaving and pulling together of family and friends, of holding tight.

For in the end it is in the weaving together we find our cushion in life. That which in turn holds us.

And Then The Night Threw Down It's Winter Cloak.

Musings of a party hostess after the fact.

All week my weather app was never far from my hand.
Showers, sun/cloud, showers. Such a threat hanging over us after last weeks perfect Saturday!
But somehow we managed to hide away from those portentous clouds and the day was perfect.

I wondered as I wandered,
at how thirteen years of celebrating Midsummer with our friends has seen a generation of children grow up before our very eyes.
Children who, only yesterday it seems, were freckled, gap-toothed scallywags with muddy knees and bruised foreheads, swinging out of the trees and running through the grass on some important mission. A gaggle of earnest explorers, commandeering one tent or another for late night rumpus or shadow plays on the wall.
And now they arrive, towering above me, nodding and smiling, standing and chatting with the adults, adults themselves I am amazed to find! And I turn a slow twirl in my garden, my grateful heart beating in my chest as my eyes find the latest gaggle racing away on piggy-backs into the gathering gloom, swords waving as they disappear shrieking into the meadow.

Each year has seen the return of old friends, and each year the arrival of some new. An opportunity to catch up, to reacquaint, and sometimes to discover new connections or rekindle old ones.

The setting sun graciously gave us a spectacular show as we gathered in the cooling air. We had the most generously splendid banquet-like spread in my kitchen, each family bringing the most beautiful food and cakes and such to share.

And this year there is a new flock of fledglings testing their wings, thrusting their way out of their smaller skins as the fearsom Teen-somness creeps in amongst them. And they prowl and preen throughout the night, their voices too loud, bodies wayward and clumsy. And oh how they make my heart squeeze!

And there was a fire.

There is something about a fire. Something is stirred deep inside as we sit around the fire together, passing the short hours of the night until the sky leans towards morning, the barest glimmer of light blooming low over the sea as the full moon slides behind the trees and up into the intense blue that heralds the arrival of the dawn.

Something that nourishes and reaffirms like a warm hand on your shoulder, that gentle squeeze, the friendly nod.

And even though part of my heart was pierced so painfully with memories of the one who always loved this night, and who will never sit around that fire with us again, his presence and his absence more real than ever, I sat and was grateful, for these people who in all their human ways are part of the fabric that is this life of mine.

And as we set off a fire lantern in his memory into the deepening sky, I said a silent thank you. A silent, grateful, thankful prayer. For all that we have been blessed with.

And the sun rose. And morning came.

Again.

What I Missed.

Photo by my Dad.

So on Sunday, when I came home, I was reminded of one of the things I love most about having a party. It's how the house and garden feel after everyone has gone home. And though I missed the event itself, I have this to savor.

How do I describe it?

There is a feeling of lightness, and clear buoyancy in the air, and I relish it.

There is grass and sand walked throughout the house, and I don't care.

The whole house smells sweetly of woodsmoke, even the children's hair I cannot resist burying my nose in.

A mountain of bowls, dishes, coats, blankets, tents, lanterns, torches, drink and food, lie unclaimed. 

Toys scattered about the garden.

Smoke still drifting from the fire-pit.

Photo by my Dad.

The echoes of friendly voices, laughter and conversation hang in the air. All those dear loved ones and friends who came and held my little family in their midst, and surrounded them in love and support.

Photo by Lisa.

Who allowed them to be okay, to celebrate, and to be happy.

And to be quiet when they needed to.

Photo by my Dad.

And then, later, the exuberance and jubilation of a good bonfire, combined with a gaggle of little friends to run wild with. How it does the heart good.

Photo by my Dad.

The sheer thrill of being out in the night air, and no one telling them to behave themselves. This is the time to be Wild Things and make a Rumpus!

Photo by Cliona.

This is their time, their making-memories time. And even though Sweet William has his own version of this year's midsummer, his own little journey, in the words of a friend, that for a short while veered away from us ever so slightly, it too is now a part of the thread of this beautiful life we are weaving together. 

Photo by Cliona.

And these bright threads move and intertwine with one another so intricately, so delicately, that they are entangled resolutely, set fast to one another. 

Photo by Cliona.

All these amazing people we have crossed paths with fortuitously, whose threads we now include in our weaving.

So grateful to be so favoured.

Thank you one and all. You know who you are.

A Tale of Woe.

So, this is not the post you were expecting. 

This is where I spent the weekend, while the band, or rather, the party, played on. 

On Friday, hours before the first guests were due to arrive, The Smallest, who had been unwell the last couple of days had what we now know was a febrile convulsion. 

It was horrific. 

I have no doubt there are a number of you reading this have experienced it and know what I mean when I say that briefly we thought he was gone. I've never experienced anything like it. 

But thankfully, while it's terrifying to witness, it is not harmful, and is fairly common. Although  he did have another one that night so they kept him in hospital a second night. 

I suggested to Jay that the party go ahead, and I think the distraction of it was just what he needed. Lots of people turned up, though lots didn't as word traveled through the grapevine. I'm glad for Jay, and for the other three children, that they were surrounded by so many of our family and friends, and by so much love and support. 

A huge thank you to everyone who was there for us, and my phone was red hot with all the lovely messages pouring in.

We're home now, and The Smallest is well and healthy and back to himself. 

The house has that lovely post-party feel and I am sorry I missed what sounds like a great night. I am rounding up as many photos as possible from people who were there and I hope to have a selection to share with you in the next day or two. 

In the end, there is nothing like an experience like this to make you appreciate, and feel incredibly grateful for, all the blessings you have in your life.

I am blessed.

Here We Are!

The summer Solstice is rolling around fast. Can you believe it?

So next weekend we are having our annual party to celebrate the halfway point in the year, and in many ways the start of the summer holidays, and I enlisted the help of the amazingly talented Lisa to create this wonderful invite for it. 

This is where we are. This is home (or rather, garden,) to us, and it would be so fabulous if all you wonderful blogger friends I have made over the last couple of years could come see us here. I know that's not possible for some of you, but for those that can and those that can't, consider yourself invited when you hit that play button!

A Gaggle Of Family And Friends.

It's A Washout!

Well, this is a first. After all the build up. By mid-day we had to make the difficult decision to postpone the party. After all these years. I haven't seen rain like it in quite sometime. One look at the rain radar online showed the whole country covered in rainclouds far into the night. The main focus of the party each year is the bonfire and sitting out under the stars at this magic time of year, so sitting in our little house was not going to do it really.
Boo!

A few people turned up and we spent the day and evening eating and chatting and it was lovely.
And next weekend we will do it for sure, and I don't care what the weather does. It can't possibly be as bad as today!

I took a photo of the ten minute peep of sun we had as dusk came. Then that was that, back to the rain.

And it rains...

Party Time!

Well. The forecast could not be worse. Rain, wind, and cold. This will be a first. Nearly twelve years of summer parties and we have never been rained out if it. Showers yes, but this?

But you know? This is Ireland. You just cannot predict the weather, and you have to have faith. So, we will bravely soldier on, and we will have our party!



And I'll leave you with a quote from, I believe, Billy Connolly:

"There's no such thing as bad weather, just the wrong clothing"!

And So They Cometh.

And so it begins. The first party folk arrive and make camp.



As far as I know today is actually the Summer Solstice! Something about the leap year maybe? So:

HAPPY SOLSTICE TO YOU ONE AND ALL, WHEREVER YOU MAY BE IN THE WORLD!