When The Smallest Went To Town.

So, just a quick post before I retire.

It's Friday tomorrow. Some weeks I am more grateful for that then others. This is one of those weeks! It's late, and I'm just home having finally got my New Moon fix (ahem. Yes. I know...) and I thought I'd share these with you, as I've been meaning to all week.
As you recall, I mentioned a couple of post's back about the photoshoot by lovely Cliona that took place in our garden.

There was, however, another phase to the ad campaign that included none other than our own Sweet Smallest. So anyone who is on this dear isle of ours and is out and about during the coming festive weeks, you may spot a giant 20ft King Kong Smallest bedecking various billboards about the place! We still haven't seen any ourselves yet, though we've seen some of the other ones Cliona did as part of it. I can't wait to see his reaction when he sees himself so big!

And here's the finished pic of the sweet caravan that is still parked in our field. Though I have to say it is rather more forlorn looking now without all it's lovely accessories!

(You can click on the images to see them better).

So, do let me know if you spot any!

On My Birthday.

This evening,
in a fug,

I lay in the bath and I listened.

Out in the darkness
the sea has found it's winter voice
booming onto shingle, a grave Neptunous murmuring in my ear.

I listen to the tap drip,
the candle spit and hiss,
and the strains of Van Morrison echo dimly somewhere in the house.

Tiny footsteps run down the hall,
past the door
and away.

The sweetest voice I know singing as it goes.

And somewhere else
the hum of familiar voices
rumble against one another in newly discovered conversation.

And I look through the steam that swirls through candlelight,
at the robe my mother gave me against the newly painted door,

and happiness will run,
for I am beholden.

And happiness will run.

Sloth and Torpor Abounds.

Rain, rain, rain...

The country has been awash. Literally. And being so close to the sea is often cause for worry as the winter months close in. We have had the sea in around the house on three occasions in the past, but so far this year we have been okay.

But the rain... oh...

So, naturally we are indoors most of the time, and while this provides plenty of opportunity to be creative, it doesn't help with the likes of mundane things like laundry! Six people in a household engenders a significant amount, believe me, and so drying has been on my mind all week.

But the creative juices still flowed, and we were even surprised by a little peek of sunshine on occasion.

And as my 'just because' roses began to fade, (I think I love roses best as they begin to fade...) and everyone settled in to that winter feeling of pottering and musing about what to do with ourselves as the dark days creep upon us, there was a definite edge of sloth and torpor to us all. A kind of hibernating sloth and torpor. Like we need to slow down to just pottering and musing and eating for the next few months.

What a nice thought!

And I've no doubt our fingers will be kept busy, and the stacks of books will be read, and all those Christmas plans will come to fruition.

But I'll need to keep myself on my toes, because I have a feeling Christmas is closer than I think...!

Put The Lights On The Tree.

A few weeks back the lovely Cliona rang me up and asked could she use our field for a photo shoot (check out her work here). We were delighted to oblige. We love having our house invaded by hordes (really!) and it's always exciting to have something like this to distract us on a blustery, cold, wet day in the middle of the mid-term break.

I'm always amazed at how much hard work goes into something like this. The team of people involved, the organisation, the unforeseen hiccups.

The day began with the delivery of a sweet 1970's caravan, all the way from Kerry, no less, which was then deposited not in the right place. I'm sure it was a sight to see three women trying to manoeuvre (maneuver) it round a windswept field. But we did it!

The kids were bemused by the Christmas decorations and lights that went up on it, especially as it was only a few days to Halloween!

And fair play to the crew who were there, standing around for hours in the cold and rain.

For the most part we remained inside, out of the weather. I don't know how they do it. It was quite surreal at times!

As the evening train rolled by, preparing to stop at the station at the end of the lane, I have no doubt the passengers were rolling their eyes at the bedecked little caravan, in a field by the sea, in October...

Whatever next?

But for any of you that are in Ireland, you'll be seeing Cliona's wonderful photo of it around the place as part of the Christmas ad campaign of a certain phone company!

Now I'd happily keep that sweet little caravan, lights and all, if I could. I think it would make a gorgeous studio, wouldn't it?

After The Rain We Took A Lonely Walk.

In the grey,

a winter's day,

the quiet sound of our footsteps

on wet.

Up the lane.

And the stark lonely trees,

cut out against the clouds,

loom like desolate, friendless wraiths.

And the fields so quiet.

The skies a strange, empty hush.

And then, in the distance we see a herd of twenty horses
at full gallop,
their riders lying against their backs it seemed,
as though listening to their heartbeats.

Flying through the fields. Flying!

And my heart beats. My heart beats.

Wins out over the quiet fields, beyond the oppressing gloom,
and above the unnatural silence that rings in the air.

And there it is,
what we were missing.

Something like the breath of the forest,
the breathing trees.

A murmur in our ear, whispered close against our skin.

And so, together we walk on,
a faint brightness clinging to the light on the trees ahead.