Wednesday 28 September 2016

autumn feelings


Autumn means darkening days, finding cosy spaces to curl up with a book, lights on, comforting food (cinnamon buns and porridge with maple syrup, flecked with mixed spice). Grey skies on my morning walk and that sudden sense of bleakness that comes when the leaves fall, although there is the occasional splash of berries to brighten the way. It's cold and windy and I'm thinking about the sloes up the lane. There's a good bounty this year, so that means gin, which bring me back to cosy spaces...




Wednesday 21 September 2016

what it means





 
September. One of the most evocative words. It means nightsounds and darkness. Wood stacks and splitting timber. The heavy thud of the axe. It means blackberries, pies and jam. Tea, endless tea. Dark skies and shadowed fields. It means school. And hometime treats of bread and jam, hot chocolate and marshmallows and sitting outside while there's still light.

Wednesday 7 September 2016

walking





Last weekend we went walking by the sea. We chose an easy 4km or so loop which brought us to the Cooley peninsula near Carlingford. We passed golden fields and oyster shell strewn beaches. The distant purple hued mountains kept a quiet eye on us. It was warm. And we only had one mutinous child about half way along. Our trail started and ended at Lily Finnegan's pub, which by the time we got back there was thankfully open... never had the packet of Tayto crisps and glass of Bulmers tasted so good!

Thursday 1 September 2016

light, dark

Rooftops caught in evening light. Last week we ate out at our favourite local restaurant after a difficult day (autism is a tough task master). And, just for a few minutes, the sun gilds the chimney pots and weather vane of the town and from our vantage point we get to enjoy it.
Sunrise. I am out walking early. This time of the morning brings me peace. Just the dogs and birds for company. I love the contrast between light and shadow. Bright, dark. Good days, not-so-good days. All parts of the same story.
Parenting is a tough gig. The difficult times are there when you wake and when you go to sleep. Likewise the good times, it has to be said, but they are the easy days. It's the hard days that make you wonder at yourself and I wish, wish, WISH I hadn't lost the instruction booklet that tells you how to do it properly.