Summer Longings

Ah! my heart is weary waiting,
Waiting for the May--
Waiting for the pleasant rambles,
Where the fragrant hawthorn brambles,
With the woodbine alternating,
Scent the dewy way.
Ah! my heart is weary waiting,
Waiting for the May.
Ah! my heart is sick with longing,
Longing for the May--
Longing to escape from study,
To the young face fair and ruddy,
And the thousand charms belonging
To the summer's day.
Ah! my heart is sick with longing,
Longing for the May.

Denis Florence MacCarthy 1817-1882

Oh, I can't wait for the summer, the long days of doing nothing, the kids playing and exploring, the absence of study and timetables. Flowers, fruit salad and day trips to new places. This week has been very grey and gloomy with great long showers of rain but despite this, you can see how nature is again blooming, drawing her finery around her in bounteous joy. I have tiny salad seedlings popping up in pots and baby plums and cherries forming on the fruit trees. The apple tree, notoriously fickle has yet to show her hand but then she is an old Irish heirloom tree so we put up with her moods. The youthful quince twins appear to be almost miraculously free of rust this year, thank goodness I didn't pull them out.

I have walked for miles this week and eaten a lot of cake outside on my back step. Walking has become almost a meditative process for me, particularly in very bad weather! It becomes refreshing and soothing, one foot after the other, the little dog trotting alongside, walking out into the rain and solitude. Myself and the kids have watched this **video (**scroll down to the 3rd video) about beach artist Andreas Amador over and over again, how cool would this be to spend some hours doing this!

I have so many half-crafted posts I have been wanting to share but life keeps getting in the way. I have so many works in progress, books to review, fabric to find for my sewing project and many many seeds to plant. I am feeling a tiny bit overwhelmed as I have a huge OU deadline looming. Four thousand words in three weeks which will count for half the marks on my course. Thank-goodness, I am off to Newry for our day-school tomorrow which hopefully should give us all some inspiration on how to progress.

Also, our book-cub has been picked for the TV3* book-club of the month for May so we have to read Mansfield Park for next Wednesday for filming on Thursday. Despite hating the sound of my own voice and getting my photograph taken, I managed to volunteer to speak on camera. I was at the time fuelled by a lovely South African shiraz and feeling ecstatic from completing the first 'half' (12 thousand words across 7 months!) of my course. Groan. We are hoping that they bring lots of make-up and hair stylists...

I am going to take a little break from blogging until this is all finished and hopefully when I come back I shall begin the McCall's sew-along and have plenty of little veggie seedlings to show you. Oh and the Giro d'Italia sweeps through our town this weekend, the whole place has gone pink in it's honour! See you on the 6th of June! xxx

(*Irish television channel, similar to ITV in the UK)
(**scroll down to the 3rd video)

Sharing is caring-blog giveaway!

Hi all,
Sorry to have been away for so long! I hope you all had a great Easter, we had a very busy one. I can't wait to have the time to write a proper post but I just had to pop in to share a lovely blog giveaway that my friend Lisa is running on her fabulous book-review blog. Why don't you drop by and pay her a visit!
http://lisareadsbooks.blogspot.ie/2014/04/the-crimson-ribbon-by-katherine.html?showComment=1398544812002#c4309684226066841504

Housewifery.

Let me tell you a secret. Sure you won't tell ANYONE? Ok, then. I quite like housework. Not all the time, obviously but every now and again I take the notion for a good auld scrub.
Most of last week was spent writing in the perplexing brain-curdling mist that was my penultimate essay for my OU module for this year, just one more short one to go then the big EMA which is like a mini dissertation and then summer freedom. Hurrah.

After a good sleep I was ready to tackle the cob-webby slovenly hovel that my home turns into with a couple of days neglect. There is something about sitting down with a steaming cup of coffee and home made Lemon and Poppy seed cake and admiring order, clean surfaces, sparkling bathroom and a washing-line billowing with clean linen and all scented with fresh flowers and furniture polish. I found this cute tutorial for a Land-girl style head-scarf on YouTube, great for bad-hair days and protecting those victory rolls while playing at house. I am so tempted to do the shopping looking like this!

 

Hello, to all of you that are popping over from Daisy's blog. I am so sorry if you were disappointed that there has been no sewing. I wanted to try and source the pattern locally or at least on the island of Ireland but I have had no luck. I capitulated and ordered it from Amazon this morning.

I get so worried about our independent shops when browsing that site -no matter how many times I swear I am not going back I always do.  I am so consistently surprised at the range of items that Amazon carries, how can local retailers survive in this difficult economic climate? Last month, we lost our biggest newsagent in the town, Eason's have a chain of stores all over Ireland and while there were many faults with that particular shop it was a huge shock to lose them. We still have some gorgeous wee crafty shops hanging on my the skin of their teeth though, The Crafty Fox, Quaint, Breda's Wool shop and two of my absolute favourites, Kirwan's fishmongers and Sampson's Craft Butchers. I was a vegetarian for almost twenty years till I moved here...

Do you guys have any favourite shops? I wish I could go back for an hour or so to the weird and wonderful shops that we had when I was little. All family owned business and all so different even those the three I remember best sold the same stuff, groceries, sweets and newspapers. There was one shop that I cant even remember the name off, I don't think it even had a sign but it was run by this ancient old lady and her mother! They never took the dark red wooden shutter from the window and it was so dark inside but that is where my Gran got her newspapers and gossip and a comic for me every week. Twinkle, Bunty and then Judy. I still have some of the Christmas annuals of those comics and when I peek inside I forget I am a middle aged housewife and transported back to being a little girl with white socks and scuffed shoes again!

All sew together.

 

I am very excited and a tad tingly. Finally after all the procrastination, at the weekend I made something with my sewing machine. I actually made two pillowcases, they are a little bit crooked, a little bit wonky and needless to say that if Patrick from the Great British Sewing Bee looked inside he would not be impressed by my seams. I had a few anxious moments along the way, I can tell you. First I got a great wedge of fabric stuck in the thingy-ma-jig ( I mean the feed dogs) I thought I was going to have to tearfully phone John Lewis and explain that I had broken my wee sewing machine on its first proper outing!

After managing to remove the trapped fabric with much pulling, poking, cursing and praying to St Anthony,  I then had the shocking realisation that I had not sewn a completely straight seam so there was some gapage in the seams and then I sewed one bit on back to front, it was completely exhausting but sooo much fun. E had a little turn pressing down the pedal to make the machine go while I held the fabric but she kept ignoring me when I yelled STOP so she flounced off and played with her dads iPad. Mr S and O were out for a walk with the dog so I was delighted to show them all my afternoons work when they all came back from the muddy fields and the virtual woods.

Mr S attempted to settle down and watch the football but did look at little alarmed when I burst in to show him yet another mistake. I made the covers from some spare pieces of curtain material that we had left over from trimming our Ikea curtains. Mr S claims that he 'hates' these curtains but so far he has been a complete sport and not complained about the matching cushions now cluttering adorning the bed!

Thank the Goddess of common sense that I did not blithely start learning to sew with my gorgeous collection of vintage scarves. The pattern for the simple covers is available from this cute blog here. I must say while I was sewing I was transported back to first year in secondary school to domestic science, Mrs W and those loathed Bernina machines that I found nigh on impossible to thread. Why, oh why did I not listen to Mrs W at the time? Is it interesting that the two skills that I had the opportunity to learn at school-sewing and violin-the two lessons that I couldn't stand are now the very skills I really really want to be proficient at. Anyway, that is enough navel gazing for now.

So I pondering what to attempt as my next project when I happened to drop into the lovely Lazy Daisy Jones only to find that this lady who is a very talented and witty crafter is hosting a sew along. She is going to hold our hands while we attempt this easy (?) A-line skirt. Fantastic. Now I have to chose some fabric and try and source the pattern here in Ireland. I think I might try and look for a pattern for a similar skirt for a certain seven year old girly, she would love that. So that is why I have a new side button on the blog. Please share your thoughts on the project as it progresses and why not join in. The link should take you there. Lovely. Talk soon.xx
Oh, ps Sewing Bee is back tonight, I have been having severe withdrawals. I do so want Lynda to win and then adopt me and teach me all she knows...

Fifteen.

Dear Mr S,

Unaccustomed as I am to public declarations of affection I do think that celebrating fifteen happy years together is such a significant milestone that it should be marked in some way. So since I didn't get you a present, I would just like to say thank-you.

Thank-you for our two beautiful children and the patient thoughtful way that you parent them.
Thank-you for our cosy home and for spending too much time in vintage land.
For mending my bookcases and making sure our pictures are straight.

Thank-you for telling me you loved me in Camberwell in the rain.
Thank-you for getting me back to our first flat together that night when I drank too much blue aftershock and red wine.
Thank-you for staying up late with me and listening to my waffle.
For The Soprano's

Thank-you for your Arsenal addiction and for sorting out all our electronic devices.
Thank-you for never knowing where anything is and always remembering.
Thank-you for London, Amsterdam, Vietnam, Australia and La Sagrada Familia.
And for Galway, Glastonbury and Venice.
Thank-you for Paris, I know not yet but we will...

Consolidation Week

Last week on the Open University timetable was the Very Important Consolidation Week, a time for review and reflection on ones progress so far. What have I learned so far through this module? Actually it is all a bit of a weary blur so instead I  treated myself to a break from Solow, Ikenberry, Lenin, Gramsci et al.

Instead I consolidated myself with some slow time, time to ease oneself back into a frame of mind that is ready to take on the next 8000 words.
So we:
Walked and foraged,
in the beautiful tranquil Beaulieu Woods. Can you see all the wild garlic from my picture? Perhaps not but it was lush and bountiful so inspired by this article in Landscape magazine,

and gathered a handful and made a delicious chicken and wild garlic pie from the leftovers from our Sunday roast. Alas no pictures, we were far too hungry to wait but I am definitely going to try some more recipes with this fragrant and delicious little plant. (Of-course please act responsibly when gathering food from the country-side. Be certain that what you are picking is edible, you have permission to be on the land and that you leave nothing but a faint footprint.)

I have been crocheting and watching Shetland.
I am so glad that I began this project, it was inspired by this post by the lovely Kirsten and so soothing to work. I bought some gorgeous pure welsh wool from The Wool Croft in Abergavenny and it has been a revelation to use, so soft and fine, all my acrylics now feel too scratchy and scritchity. The Wool Croft is a gem of a shop nestling on the main street of the gorgeous market town of Abergavenny, I wish I had longer to linger and really appreciate all their sumptuous selection of yarn.

I was pointed to the excellent Ann Cleaves, Shetland series by Dovegreyreader via the equally enjoyable Lewis Man trilogy by Peter May which I devoured in a weekend, holding my kindle while I absentmindedly tackled various tasks completely transported to Shetland. The Jimmy Perez series, I am borrowing from our local library as they are returned. (For some reason in reverse order!) Is anyone watching the BBC adaptation of the Cleaves crime novels? They are very enjoyable, just the thing to settle down with by the fire and chill out with. The cinematography of the wild remote and ultimately mysterious island is beautiful but I am a little disappointed with the changes to the original texts.

Finally, planning and reading:
It has been so much fun planning our allotment planting, last Sunday we were there for hours, clearing, weeding and Mr S had so much fun digging, he snapped the fork! The kids picked out some bright flower bulbs from the garden centre, multi-coloured freesia for O and sunny yellow begonia's for S. In vain, I tried to steer them towards the chocolate and ruby dahlias which I have fallen in love with particularly after reading the completely marvellous 'Virginia Woolf's' Garden by Caroline Zoob.

This book is an absolute joy, a treasure for your favourite gardener or book-worm. It is a elegant combination of biography and garden design inspiration. Caroline Zoob's affectionate portrait of the Woolf's marriage and the construction of the garden is perfectly complemented by Caroline Arber's stunning contemporary photography, archive pictures and Zoob's delicate embroidered planting schemes. To sit in a quiet sunny room with a steaming cup of coffee and dip in and out of these pages has been one of the highlights of the week. I do wish you some great highlights of your own for the forth-coming week which takes us yet further into spring!

Wild Garlic and Chicken Pie
Caramelise some onions and garlic.
Add left-over free-range chicken from Sunday roast.
Add peas and chopped wild garlic.
Cover in Béchamel sauce.
Season to taste.
Pop into a piecrust made from shop bought frozen puff-pastry.
Cook until golden brown and bubbling.

Yellow Gorse, Green shoots, Black Dog

Today, I walked to a green mossy bridge and looked at the sky. All around the gorse has suddenly triumphantly burst into bloom, great swathes of golden flower line the hedgerows, spiky and exuberant. In our house it was known as 'the wins', on Easter Sunday we would carefully gather the canary petals and boil them with our Easter Monday eggs to transform their henny brown into a soft honeyed hue.

About this time last year I was coming back home on the train from Belfast, it was a beautiful day and I overheard two old country boys reminiscing about using 'wins' as a fire-lighter. Their accents sounded so familiar I think that word for gorse comes from County Tyrone perhaps travelling down with my Granda to County Antrim. That day was one full of vitality, I was particularly inspired by the colours that flashed by, the pale blue sky, the warm grey dry-stone walls and the yellow gorse and lots of creative ideas simmered gleefully.

This week is not so good, I think I am being followed by the black dog, although my experience is becoming more akin to being held under a black fog, my heart feels heavy and my lungs stifled. I feel fragile and weak although my temper is unfortunately neither of these. I have been asking myself questions that I would simply not ask another who was suffering from depression and anxiety. What do I have to be depressed about? Can't I see how lucky I am? I have so much to be thankful for and so much to look forward too. Why now? I simply don't have time for all this self-absorption.

My Grand-mother with whom I spent a lot of time with, lived her life (in my perception) in a state of constant anxiety. She was - I think - addicted to tranquillisers in her later years, 'give us one of those wee diazepams there' she would say and for a long time I did not connect the wee diazepam with it's more notorious nomenclature, Valium. She always had a steady supply and would regularly and quite innocently share them out with some of her neighbours. She was full of fear of the outside world and all of the dangerous things that could potentially happen to the unsuspecting traveller, she found it hard to cope calmly with something out of the ordinary and yet managed to reach the ripe old age of 93 with her twin armoury of prescription drugs and religion, her diazepams and her rosary beads.

Sometimes, in the midst of all the fretful worrying and over exaggeration she would have flashes of great intuition. She would 'see' things that were about to happen or perceive something about say another persons character that no one else would pick up on until much much later. The rational brain lives in tandem to the irrational mind, thank-fully. In 'The Concept of Anxiety' (which I have barely understood, let alone finished but continue to stumble over) Kierkegaard comfortingly supposes that anxiety can be regenerative rather than degenerative especially if the individual realises the possibility of freedom and of faith.

'Anxiety is the dizziness of freedom...and freedom looks down into its own possibility.'

There may be an intermission.