a simple yarn

…off to Cork for a brief Easter holiday with family and friends, a few archive photos from one of my favourite spots in Ireland.

The Rock of Cashel, in Co. Tipperary, served as the traditional seat of the Kings of Munster. The majority of buildings on the current site date from the 12th and 13th centuries. Cashel is reputed to be the site of the conversion to Christianity of the King of Munster by St. Patrick in the 5th century A.D.

Right, I realise I’ve been sounding like the Irish Tourism Board of late, but the Kiddies are out of school which minimises craft time. Sigh. Hope to finish a knitting project while on our mini break!

Hard to capture but yes, there is a second rainbow in the sky.

Wishing you and your family a very joyous Resurrection Sunday!

As Irish Language Week comes to a close…

…I wonder the future of the Irish language.

Is Gaeilge becoming obsolete?
Is it merely an academic exercise dreaded by students across the island?
Are the Gaeltachts reduced to being tourist attractions?

I confess I do not know.
But the signs of the times seem to point to a diminished need to understand and speak the language. That’s sad, I think.

Looking eastward, though, I’m encouraged by Wales and their fierce national pride reflected in a seemingly healthy Welsh language. So it is possible.

Well, ironically being only a non-Irish-speaking-blow-in, it’s my sincere hope that the Gaeilgeoir* does not become an antiquated notion.

*English = Irish speaker, learner of Irish

And I’m not talking about the pastel kind.

Walking home from the school bus stop brings me by the farm of Salt-Of-The-Earth-Neighbour-Sean. I was distracted from my morning chat over the fence by miniature noises. Bleatings, to be more precise.

Two lovely lads (or lasses…or one of each…I’m not sure) cautiously peek their heads from behind their mother, first among many to announce their presence in the animal world. Lambing season. Feeling like an observer of a James Herriot tale, I am delighted to now notice more frequently wee dots of fleece in nearby fields.

But, no camera. Geesh! I come back later, camera in hand, to find Mother-Ewe stuck in the fencing…

Apologies, Cultural Pronunciation Diversion Ahead:
When telling Farmer-Sean’s-Wife-Mary of the ewe’s predicament, I found myself pleasantly distracted by her lovely Irish pronunciation of ewe. Not ‘yew,’ as I would have been used to hearing, but rather ‘yo.’ Yo? Wonder where that originated? Hmm…

Anyway, Mary said she’d be down later, as busy farm wives have a full day’s work, so I go to see if I can shift her myself…the ewe, not Mary. Before releasing Mum, I can’t resist a few close-ups.

Is it my imagination or is this lamb smiling?

And I’m sure that’s a laugh!

Happy Leap Year!

Warning: Completely fibre-less-cuz-eternal-twisted-rib-on-a-never-ending-jumper-doesn’t-make-for-exciting-reading cultural observation to follow…

Have you ever seen something repeatedly only to have it take on new meaning with the addition of one small thing? I’ve driven over these road hazard warnings for months now. An unmistakable message, right?

But seeing this…

…yes, that hearse sitting there…it’s with irony of the ‘noir’ kind that I realise these warnings are posted outside the cemetery. Huh, never noticed that before…

Here’s a mathematical equation I’m wrestling with:
Sit (Knit + Weave + Spin) + Winter Weather + Home Baking = Unwanted Kilos

I don’t like to exercise. By that I mean, I don’t fancy going to the gym and running with futility on a machine. Would rather take a bullet. But, get me out walking, digging, hauling, tugging, shifting, moving, sweating—I’m okay with that. It’s called synergy. If, in doing chores, I inadvertently get my heart rate up and do a few arm reps, righty-o, that’s great. So, taking a synergy approach to this…

I walk the children to the bus stop each morning.

View of The Lodge on the journey home.

I live in a lovely Irish valley.

I don’t have to rush to the job commute.

The weather is getting noticeably brighter.

Beautiful, but oh so prickly, gorse

Why not take the long-way-scenic route home?

And why not take my camera along?

Thing to do today: supermarket, errands, collect kids, dodge sheep in the road…

While modern Dubliners seemingly want to shift away from the stereotypical imagery of ‘The Quiet Man,’ leprechauns and old gents in tweedy flat caps, I seem to bump into them with regularity.

Why, just last week I found myself swinging the car into a side lane to accommodate a farmer and his herd. Like a scene from ‘Babe,’ he came sauntering down the narrow lane with its towering hedgerows on either side. In front of him ran the group of woolly wonders, while he ambled behind—stick in hand, tweedy flat cap on head, faithful sheepdog alongside.

Kicking myself for leaving the camera at home.

But not to worry, sheep in the road are rather a common sight these days. Surely then, the leprechauns are lurking nearby…

For those in colder climates, a blanket o’ white of a different sort.

Before there were few…now there are many.

Have a lovely weekend!

Next week—feeling less like Ulysses and more like Goldilocks…

It snowed.

For those in the colder climates, this will seem like a negligible blip on the meteorological map, but for constantly-temperate Ireland, it’s an occasion to celebrate.

Like icing sugar, the dusting covers the winter-barren hilltops peeking over the neighbouring Lodge.

Amazing what children can do with a small amount of precipitation.

Needless to say, the Kiddies are bursting with excitement and hoping that school’s closed…

New year, new choices, new directions, new projects…hmm….I wonder what else will be ‘new’ in these next twelve months?

Have you ever had that subconscious feeling that something is about to happen…you know, catching a glimpse of what might be and that what is ‘now’ is perhaps the proverbial calm before the storm? Who knows? I suppose if I were to have a pictorial representation of what my new year might look like, it would include this view of our road…

Happy new year to all and to the new opportunities this year will afford!

‘Few things are commonplace in themselves. It’s our reaction to them that grows dull.’

Arthur Gordon

The moment has come when the seemingly-endless-settling-in-process has finally come to an end and the transition, which began in June, is done. Time to come out of my stupor, hoping to not take for granted the park-like setting in which I live. Hmmm….have my reactions grown dull? Eek, hope not! Sure, the cold and rainy days hold us prisoners, but perhaps it’s time to break free and see that which is not commonplace.

One of the many things I love about Ireland is the way it wears its natural history…like a familiar cardigan, a little frayed around the edges, but comfortable and timeless. A picture album of today’s stroll down the lane to the back fields, quietly reveals evidence of…

…iron treasures around stone corners…

…previous residents…

…gates to nowhere…

…stone steps where many a foot have trod…

…and secret gardens.

Well, we didn’t make it into the Knitty.com calendar this year…

…but pleased as punch that we made it into the honorable mentions list on Amy’s Flickr site.

Son-Alex models the skull embellished Knucks in fine Dublin-Inner-City-Youth-Style. Have to say I’m chuffed. Here’s a reprint of the photo.

The morning school run sure looks different these days.

In the city, at about 8.15am each weekday morning, I dreaded the morning commute to get the Kiddies to school. We lived about 1.5 miles away, which took approximately 35 minutes to drive. Gridlock. It doesn’t take a mathematician to realise that it would be quicker to walk, which we did quite regularly. Nowadays, I rather look forward to the morning school trip. Here, let me show you…

The kids trotting off down the country lane—

Stopping to greet the neighbours—

After putting the children on the school bus comes the leisurely walk back, stopping at a moss-and-lichened stone wall—

Which reveals a quaint stone bridge—

Called the Step Bridge by the locals, for obvious reasons—

And before the busyness of the day begins, I nick a bit of breakfast along the way—