erin go bragh

image from flickr

Happy St. Patrick's Day to you! We have just been to our local parade (the boys' school always take part) and now we're getting ready for some friends coming over this evening. St. Patrick's day is often wet and cold, so today we're glad it's just cold! A little nip of whiskey might be in order...

half light

'abandoned'

'towards the light'

'harbour series'

'home series'

Oh I do like the paintings of Maeve McCarthy. That murky half light, the starry skies and atmospheric gloomth that comes with encroaching darkness or that pre-dawn time, early morning, when a street light or lamp light, however hazy, is most welcome. Her work reminds me of those quiet night hours spent sleepily feeding the baby when you would honestly think not another soul was awake and then a car would drive slowly past, its headlights casting light and shadow momentarily and you would find comfort knowing that someone else was there in the world, sharing that same mysterious time.

See more of Maeve's work here

it's okay

 

image from pinterest

This weekend we had a lovely time. We did nothing. Well, we did very little. Friday was spent making homemade pizza for dinner and watching The Irish R.M. On Saturday the weather was kind enough to allow a bit of gardening to be done- muck spreading, planting and general tidying up. On Sunday we went to our friends Will and Becky for lunch. After we ate, the boys went outside to play and we spread ourselves on the sofa. Becky and I chatted and cooed at her beautiful baby Nancy. I told Becky about the five year diary I'd started in January. I said that looking back over the last couple of months I couldn't believe how much of my life was spent cooking and baking and being at home with the boys. It's all gingerbread and chicken pies, books read, walks taken, weather watching, following foxes footprints in the snow. She looked at me as Nancy lay in her arms and then she said that's the perfect life. I had been seeing it as quiet, dull, uneventful, boring even. But no, viewed from a slightly different perspective it is the perfect life.

spring reading

The calendar tells me it's early March, the beginning of Spring. I happen to know otherwise. It's still very cold and wintry here and with snow showers and blustery wind it's hard to believe Spring has come. These days I am never very far away from a pot of tea. I warm my hands around a favourite cup and there's gingerbread too. Of course a new month means a new book as part of Laura's The Year in Books. This time it's The Light Years by Elizabeth Jane Howard. The first in a series it follows the Cazalet family just as the world stands on the cusp of war. I'm looking forward to starting it and if the weather continues its wintry ways I think some fireside reading will be time well spent.

the ordinary

Now that the mornings are finally brightening it is time to get back to early morning walks. Between 7.00 and 7.30am I stumble outdoors to feed the dogs and then we set off for our walk which takes us along quiet lanes sometimes dusted with snow, sometimes under grey clouds, sometimes under blue skies. We hear the raven's throaty call, see ducks rising from the marshy wooded roadside, listen to the singing of the frogs. We walk this walk, the dogs and I, each morning with footsteps taking us past all the familiar sights. The fields, the drumlins, the wind stubbed trees, the tumbling stone walls, the hedges, the bubbling stream, the simple, the ordinary, the peace, the peace, the peace.

wintry reading

I finished I Capture the Castle and totally, totally loved it! What to read next though? Well, bearing in mind we'd had a recent fall of snow and it's still very wintry feeling I decided to go with The Snow Child. I'd read reviews on blogs ages ago and since I am not an early adapter it has taken me this long to get round to reading it. It can be a problem when you hop from one book to another that you have the wispy reminiscences of your previous companion caught in your mind as you start your new relationship but I have to admit I am now deep in the wooded landscape of frozen Alaska in the 1920s waiting to see how this fairy-tale will play out...

kitchen aid

Comfort in the cold - freshly squeezed juice, morning light on the (very messy) dresser and the spindly winter trees. It's been cold and wet here with the odd dusting of snow. Enough for us to know that we are still in the firm grip of winter. The dogs are filthy, the house is filthy, the roads are potholey, we wake to the drum of rain and we climb into bed to the drum of rain. Yes, it's winter. But that can only mean one thing. Spring isn't too far away.