ssshhhh.... hear it?

It's peace and quiet.

The house looks like a bomb has hit it thanks to a couple of weeks of  ".... just leave it, I'll sort it... no really... just walk away and I'll see to it....".  I think I now know how parents feel when all the kids go to camp all at once.  Except here, it's the parents who've gone.

I have such plans.

In between...

• decluttering the entire house
• power-hosing all the paths
• painting all the fences
• replanting the garden and tubs
• filling the freezer with meals to feed us for months
• entertaining every night
• paint that bedroom
• source the fabric and make new curtains

... I plan to eat without consultation as to what others fancy, lose at least 20 pounds, have a daily walk for miles on the beach and have a three hour quiet time every day.  Oh yes, and order the book for book club and have it read by the time the folks are back.

It's only a week... but a girl can dream huh?

Now, where to start... maybe a cup of tea and a list.

Oh man, what a week.

It's been 'one of those weeks'.

Monday tea time and a phone call summoned this worried aunt to the children's hospital.  The li'l guy (my 7 year old nephew) took a tumble on the trampoline - or to be totally accurate, some of his friends took a tumble and landed in a heap - he just happened to be at the bottom of the pile.

In theatre, he had an op to pin his arm just above the elbow and is out of action now for a wee while but being very brave.

Over the week, I've been reminded of the power of ice cream to deliver smiles.  I've also learnt that despite an abundance of technology, boys banned from football (temporarily) and tree climbing (similarly) can be diverted with a mad game of ludo.  Who knew!

On Tuesday night, I accompanied my father to a concert - his birthday gift.  The Seekers (anyone old enough to remember?) were on a 50th anniversary tour and since their music is part of the soundtrack of my childhood I was looking forward to it just as much as he was.  The concert was superb - much, much better than I'd hoped for.  Remember The Carnival is Over?    Or Georgy Girl?  Or Morningtown Ride?  We're still smiling and humming - and lovely to have 'dad time'.

Friday night and it was dad's turn to be up front.  He's having chemo treatment at the moment and energy levels are low, BUT he still managed to sing with his choir at their annual concert.  So very proud of him!

On Saturday afternoon, it was 'mum time' - her treat to take us to the Belfast Opera House to see Cinderella - the Rogers and Hamerstein musical.  It was performed by an excellent amateur group - Belfast Operatic Company - joined for each performance by two white rats and the tiniest wee white pony.  A very polished performance all round, completed with a lovely meal in a local restaurant.  Mum is on the right of the picture with her cousin in the stripy top beside her.

I'm so thankful for much this week - for having parents still around who love to enjoy life to the full; for the skills of the medical team at the Royal Victoria Children's Hospital and for an NHS that hasn't been completely stripped of resources and can still excel at doing what it does best when it gets the chance.  

As I sat with my nephew waiting for him to go to theatre, I couldn't help but reflect on the difference between his treatment and the children at our project in Uganda:  

He had a vehicle to get him to the nearest A&E, an ambulance to transfer him to the children's hospital, a surgical team to do the needful and pain medication throughout.  

In our unit, children reach us months after an accident, after village bone setters have done their best - often making bad situations worse.  The journey is long, painful and often the injury beyond resetting and long drawn out intervention is required to save the limb.

We have so much to be thankful for, and such a responsibility to share our blessings.

The Art of Celebration.

The Art of Celebration - the new album by these lovely people - the Rend Collective who hail from Bangor, Co Down (about 2 miles away from where I live).  

I love the title of the album - I've heard them describe the 'art' element as something that's both playful and something that has to be worked at.  It's all about joy - and that's a gift.

Tonight, I'm heading up to Belfast where we're recording their concert for a radio broadcast later in the year and we'll record a quick interview with them.  I've worked with them before and they're the real McCoy - joy-filled, lovely, happy, real people.  No celebrity nonsense going on here.  If you didn't catch them on Graham Norton's Radio 2 show and you like a slightly folky, slightly rocky, slightly whacky sound… have a listen to some of their sound here.  

Looking forward to this gig!

I sing of brooks, of blossoms, birds and bowers...

How lovely is this?  I'd been looking at some poetry online - was trying to remember the author of 'gather ye rosebuds while ye may…' 

and came across another verse written by the same 17th century poet - Robert Herrick.  

It almost sums up the photos I took on the visit to a friend today - a beautiful, sunny  afternoon when Northern Ireland was looking it's best. 

(They were taken near Minnowburn and Edenderry if you know south Belfast.)

 With the exception of the birds, I was obviously in the vibe for the verse I'd find later - and since he mentions cakes, I've added two that I did for a bride last week - not often wedding cake gets a mention in poetry!!!

  

"I sing of brooks, of blossoms, birds and bowers,

of April, May, of June and July flowers.

I sing of May-poles, hock-carts, wassails, wakes,

of bridegrooms, brides, and of their bridal cakes."

In the pink

It seems large chunks of Northern Ireland have gone pink this week in anticipation of the Giro d'Italia cycle race.  (Is that tautology at work?  Does everyone else in the world know what the Giro is?)  

Anyway, on my way home yesterday from the little lump of God's own country that is the beautiful Causeway Coast, there were pink decor bikes at the entrance to every village and town - and all along the wayside people were enjoying the joke.  Wish I'd had a proper camera with me - pink tractors, pushchairs etc.  

Shop windows had gone for all pink merchandise, but taking the biscuit really was the wag of a farmer who'd pinked half his flock of sheep.  I stopped to snap a pic with the phone's camera, so it's not great quality - but by the time I'd moved off, three other cars had stopped.  I can only imagine it's a plan to pre-dye the yarn for the biker's woolie jumpers.  Bella bella!  Not a baaaad idea really.

All is not lost....

We have leaves.  It shouldn't be a surprise but it is.  A few months ago, my very enthusiastic dad bought a new shear-like clipper tool and got carried away with my beloved apple tree.  I was devastated.  I tried my best to swallow the lump in my throat and blink away the tears of disappointment.  He thinks the tree is getting too big for the tiny garden.  He may be right, but to my mind, it was the wrong time of year and the wrong way to do it.  I tried to joke about him turning the tree into a climbing frame for my 7 year old nephew but it hurt.

With the help of a double pollinator (a graft with two varieties) in a pot nearby, 'my' Bramley seedling produces the finest cooking apples in the world.  The windfalls don't go to waste - my father turns them into the most beautiful apple jelly.  So although it's 'my' tree - it's his too.

My mother loves to harvest the fully grown apples and produces crumbles, apple tarts and bags of stewed apples that are frozen and just when you think you'll die for the want of a sweet autumnal pudding long after the leaves and fruit have gone, she'll set one on the table.  So I guess that makes it her tree too.

We have one child in the family - my brother's son.  He has inherited his grandmother's tree-climbing gene and his aunt's love of baking too. In years to come, his memories may well include harvesting apples at granny and granda's.  In his mind's eye, he'll almost certainly hold a view of our garden from the top of the brambly branches.  It's his tree too then.

Today, I've noticed the bare branches have little green leaves in unlikely places, long, long after they should have been there.  Small, new reminders that no matter how bad things seem, there's is hope.  I needed to see these leaves.  I needed the sign, not because I long for apple tart and windfall jelly but because my dad is sick.  Every few weeks, I sit beside him in the hospital as a toxic cocktail drips into his vein.

He's a quiet man, the uncomplaining type, a teacher to his very core and a woodworker.  He's spent his life pointing young people in the right direction, in school, in Boys' Brigade, in Bible Class, in a Government run project for young offenders.  And now, unbeknown to him, when he over-enthusiastically clipped away at 'our' tree, he was setting a lesson in place for me.  It's a resurrection thing and I'm glad for the lesson that no matter how broken and hopeless things seem, there is always hope.  Maybe this year, we get by and cling to that hope.  Next year there'll be fruit... and all will be well with the world again.

Until then... I need to remember what it was like last year.

At last, my very own wee painting job...

I'm a convert.  I've admired many repainting projects on other sites, so was excited to be doing one at last. This old wooden "Sunday school" chair came from a church in Belfast and with a couple of coats of Annie Sloan chalk paint, it's be re-born into a lovely clean, fresh little chair for a child.  Can't bear to part with it though.... 

happy memories

Today, I've spent a lot  of time saving old slides onto the computer.  It's one of those jobs I put off as long as possible but when I do start into it, I love the memories the images bring.  

The memories are great - work trips in this current box - and on some visits, members of my family flew out for a holiday when I'd finished working.  They weren't all pleasant trips; South Sudan, Uganda in the mid 80s and Kosovo come to mind.  One sobering thought is how many horrible things I've witnessed around the world.  I've presented the images and told the stories, but years on, I'm feeling challenged to reflect on what I've seen and make more sense of it.

Another - slightly more trivial thing leaps out in every slide I'm in too - I'm much lighter in the pics than now and remember having so much more energy.  Ok, we're talking quite a few years ago.... but it's a good boot in the backside to take things in hand a little!

So... a few of my favourite shots; The Taj Mahal, Kenya, Nepal, Nepal again - my favourite day ever when we flew over a real life relief map, Owen Falls in Uganda - the source of the Nile - and a little boy called Moses, after an interview with a Korean man who had a "cure" for HIV, and filming in the Himalayas.  Sighs with pleasure.

Lovely surprise!

I am a winner!!  No, literally!  I entered a wee competition and said why I loved the photograph below and have actually won it!  Yippee!    It's "The Cove at Dawn" and it's a small bay on the North Antrim Coast near a tiny harbour called Ballintoy - close to where I have a holiday home.

I loved the way the photographer (gilbertlennoxphotography.com) captured the stunning dawn light and the geology of the area - bassalt and chalk - and the mirror like reflection in the water as well as Sheep Island in the distance.  

Now does this not just make you want to go and see the glory of it all for yourself?!

Mad hatters

A scarf on Christmas day wasn't enough.  A hat was required...  and today, the fitting - though I'd slipped up.  One smaller nut needed a lid too, so a hasty click and wind was called for during the Hidden Kingdoms programme on telly this afternoon (small beasties and astonishing camera work).  The final product was a pom-pom topped offering for a clearly very cold penguin.

The boyos hands were icy after an hour kicking ball outdoors this afternoon...... am afraid to mention gloves. I'd forgotten how satisfying it is to make something for someone else who loves it.  Just like the whole day.... church, then an "elbows up" lunch with the whole family squeezed in round the table for finger licking roast chicken dinner and lots of conversation.  Mellow and perfect pleasure on a Sunday.  Hope yours has been good too.

Cosy tops and toes

These I didn't have to make.  Friends bought mum a pair of great cosy-toes sock slippers - she loved them!  Perfect for the lazy days post Christmas when we all just need jammy-time and big mugs of tea to wash down plates of hot, buttery toast and lemon marmalade.  

I did make these scarves however!  On demand - "Liverpool" red, with dark blue and orange stripes... for me and Pingy".  Very specific orders, easily fulfilled and clearly appreciated.  He (they) wore them all through Christmas dinner and the whole evening.  Very cute.  Granda will want one next!

treats all round...

Treats for a birthday - mine today!   The village has a long history - the harbour wall allegedly dates back to the vikings, the Duke of Schomberg landed 10 thousand troops here in 1689, Titanic sailed past in 1912... and it's one of my favourite places as the day draws to an end.  Not many little yachts in the water by late November.... and not too many visitors to the historic cottages on the left.  The children's paddling pool is empty and the visitors over the winter months are mainly dog walkers.

To Belfast next, and the ornate interior of a very nice restaurant.  With a gift still in my grasp since last November, I treated my parents to a visit to The Merchant.  It's an old bank, and a favourite haunt for people in search of a deliciously posh afternoon tea... we like to break the mould, so had lunch instead and oh, it was so good.

Not the place for a discreet outing though - we knew the family at the table right behind us and the couple at the table beside - great to catch up with old friends.  Belfast's like that - a small world where it's a rare day when you don't meet someone you know.

Birthdays demand a little pushing out of boats I think.  Tea at home with the family and a friend.... the perfect end to the start of another year.

empowerment

No photos today... am tired and have had "one of those days".  Actually, it's been one of those weeks... but that's not for here, even though it's an unread, cathartic wee spot!

I worked a 16 hour stint at the weekend on a writing job and finished at breakfast time on Monday.  Today, the inner clock is still out of kilter.  Today, the computer also is out of kilter... I had an advert infestation and now the anti-virus has plonked too so I've spent hours trying to sort it out.

Tonight, a FB friend threw a bit of a huff at a comment I made ... and I kind of lost the will to live and hit the blue bit at the end of the rope.  Five indulgent minutes of a wee weep and feeling sorry for myself... then I wised up.  

Sure, there are times when I wish things were different, but generally I'm a contented kind of person.  I'm accepted by the ones who count and forgiven by the one who created me... and while I screw up too often, I'm still loved.  

As for the huffy friend, he'll get over it.  Facebook drives me nuts anyway so I've deactivated my account (again!) and the recovery in my mood was instant. 

Now to take control of other things that are getting on my wick!  

There now.  That felt better!

oops.... note to self... .read the recipe.

Tried a new loaf recipe today... spelt with mixed seeds and some dried fruit.  Enjoyed it a lot, but thought I'd like it a smidgeen sweeter... then checked the recipe and realised I'd forgotten the molasses/treacle.  Oops...   get it right next time.

Thanks Mrs C - this one's a keeper!

Blustery weather, an anniversary, cakes and God's larder....

Yeay!  Fresher weather at last wtih choppy-ish waters at the historic little harbour of

Groomport on the County Down coast, but sunny still.  Cooler nights mean better sleep.

The harvest of Bramley apples has been abundant this year - the weather has suited.  We've had good windfalls to make pots and pots of apple jelly for the winter and the first crop of full fruit has yielded half a laundry basket so far.

 

"God's larder" is a small country lane within a mile of home;  in season we have elderflowers for cordial, then wild garlic for the best, greenest pesto, and now we have blackberries and rosehips.  Again, the weather of a long, cold winter followed by a wet spring and hot summer has filled the brambles and we've already potted blackberry jelly galore and had our favourite pudding of all - blackberry apple crumble.  The freshest of apples from our garden (harvested by my father and nephew) dotted with "perfectly placed pockets of purple plumptiousness" (blackberries to us mere mortals!) with an oaty, sweet crumble and softly whipped cream.  Divine and clearly enjoyed by small nephew - bowl licking good.

The wedding cake season is over and all went well.  A couple of new types of decoration were required - elegant ivory piping for one bride and an alternately tiered fondant lace and fondant silk for another. Beautiful brides and delicious cake.

And a celebration of our own as my parents celebrated fifty-five years of marriage with a little tea party for family and a few friends. 

We're thankful for family, friends, the late summer sunshine and food from God's larder.  What are you thankful for today?