Blossom Forth, In Which We Find Ourselves Where We Began

Well here I am again. Sitting in the same office I left four years ago and with my fourth start on this blog, I am so far from where I was and (as usual) so close at the same time. What did I accomplish on my 8 weeks out? I couldn't possibly recount what happened over those two months, four years ago. I know I did get somethings done, I wrote about them everyday, but my memory has let them gently fade into the background and paved over them with memories of far more glamorous events (like getting caught in my first hurricane). I have let writing fall into the background along with those memories, though I have written here and there in journals and on my phone (strangely, I find inspiration strikes me when I am on an airplane, listening to music) I am still struggling with having the discipline to write when ideas come to me for example, this popped into my head while I was driving the other day and I haven't written it down...until now:

Standing at the edge between darkness and light, staring into the unending blackness of sorrow and despair, the inky velvet creeps up to you, into you until everything is gone and only a shadowy void exists anywhere around you. Before you let yourself sag into that void, before you let it rob you of every last drop of hope, look, look closer at that immense blackness do you see it? A flash, a tiny glimmer of light, the most fleeting luminescent moment, keep your eyes on it, so ephemeral you're not sure it was really there, but another incandescent point appears and vanishes, through two breaths, three another and another. Stitched together like stars on a string these brief moments of light representing the bright moments in your life, will light up your way through the darkness and bring you safely to the other side, where you are held in hope's embrace and it's glow will warm you and keep you safe against the darkness of despair.

Okay, that's something I've written.

My life continues to amaze me, that little hopeless girl bounced around from place to place, with no security, no resources, no prospects, no hope, has landed in the most marvelous place. All those little sparks of light strung together have wrapped me up in the insulation of hope, and despite misgivings in my youth, my life is a shimmering, lustrous filament in the tapestry of life.

I will have to read back over the original 8 Weeks blog because I can't remember if there were any Mummies shows while I was keeping the blog. I can't imagine there were, I never take my computer with me when we travel and for a long time, I was very good about writing everyday.

So one of the magical things in my life is that my Best Beloved has been invited over and over to play all around the world and he takes me with him. I should look back over the trips and at least write a little about them, because there have been some unbelievably, enchanting moments in those trips. Sardegna was A-MAZ-ING. The soft air, the tiny villages, the Mediterranean sea it's turquoise body stretching out endlessly. We watched a child buy beers from the concession stand, mouths agape as the clerk took the child's money and handed him three, opened Heinekens. The Milky Way was smeared unapologetically across the sky bringing tears to my eyes, it had been so long since I had seen the stars in their places.

I am trying hard to concentrate on this, but I am at at work, writing in between tasks and it is HARD to keep a train of thought going. I'm off.

Taken Up Again, Another Beginning...

It has been quite some time since I have kept track of my daily ambitions and efforts here, I tried to keep it going after I realized that I wasn't limited to eight weeks, but clearly I fell behind and eventually gave up. Well not completely, because here I am again, head filled with thoughts, hopes, desires, and a heart full of fear of failure. *I feel that I have to insert a disclaimer again, to appease my inner critic (who I had named at one point, but I have forgotten her name) that this accounting is not meant to be grammatically correct or even have perfect syntax. This is a writing for my fancy, to empty my head of thoughts, theories and impressions that would otherwise interfere with my daily activity.* So onwards and upwards?

I was so impassioned by the house in Ireland, swept away with romantic thoughts of keeping house in our own snug cottage in the pastoral countryside of the Emerald Isle. Those fervent feelings have been brushed aside by more sensible thoughts of motherhood and housekeeping. Also our money ran out. I still occasionally think back to those two hopeful weeks and long to feel the wind rushing past my face as I stand at the highest point of the hill and look out over the county. My spirit feels so stirred when I think of all the things I love and love to do, but as usual my body is bound by an inability to move forward past enquiry and I am left frustrated and sad, which transforms into sorrow and hopelessness.

On a far happier note the scholastic year has been progressing forward nicely. Both kids seem to be settled in the year. Prima has found her social feet and is spending more time with friends, sleepovers, a few nights out, she is tentatively feeling her way into the social life of a teen-age girl. She is, as always, self-motivated and has already applied to the one (and only to one) university that she wants to attend. I have no doubts that she will get in, who in the world wouldn't want her as a student at their school? I am more nervous about how we will pay for all of this, though somehow it will all work out. Things always do. And I hate to sound like a pollyanna, but I have found that even when things don't work out exactly as I had envisioned, usually something better takes it's place. She really is such a bright blossom, I am really enjoying watching her walk the path of her life.

Primo seems to have found his place. Ever since he arrived in the PD department at school, he has been shining like a comet. He comes home bursting with excitement over projects he is working on or news of a job he has been given. The fire of his spirit has been ignited and it is burning clear and bright. I have never seen him work so hard, he is even motivated to keep his grades up to ensure his continued participation in PD events. His excitement and enthusiasm is contagious, being near him keeps my own heart warm. I no longer feel fear and anxiety about his way in the world, I see, now, that he will rise up to meet what ignites him and he will fly as high and powerfully as he can.

I know that I am, by no means, a perfect mother, who could be? But I am feeling that I have side stepped some of the pitfalls my parents fell headlong into. Only time will tell, but desperation to avoid those pitfalls has been the chief source of anxiety and self-doubt I have had as a mother, have I changed those patterns? I hope the answer is yes.

I have been struggling with internal battles that I thought I fought and won years ago. I am not sure how to really overcome them. I am not sure why I allow them be such a big deal to me, interrupting my movement and success. I tried to write it down a while back, but I found that I could not physically make myself write those feelings down. I wrote in circles around them, and finally broke down in tears, closed that journal and haven't opened it since. That was months ago. I was thinking today, that I might take one of the more beautiful journals I have purchased and try writing it down there. I have tried all different sorts and each time the idea of being visible makes me shrink back even more.

Not long ago TR gave me the advice of working out what I outcome wanted when confronting anyone with a problem I had ( it was in the context of teachers at school) and I think that may apply here. What do I want? Am I going to confront those that bear the demons with me? Or is it up to me to work it out on my own, and let them continue to travel their own life path? IS the confrontation part of my healing? Or do I need to look deep within myself and decide what I want and then travel there? All of these questions have answers, I just don't know what they are and I feel more and more desperate as I watch my life trickle by into a puddle of mediocrity, while I stand helpless to prevent it, with my hands unbound and hanging uselessly at my side. Inside my heart screams out for it to stop, and still it drip, drip, drips down, draining me of all hope and motivation. So maybe tonight I will take that beautiful journal...actually an idea just struck me, I will make a journal just to hold this story, something that is made just to hold it, and keep it away from me. Then I will write down what I want, what happened and hopefully when I am done, I will be able to see a way out of the void I feel I am being drawn into.

Again on a much, MUCH lighter note, life has been moving along happily (which continually confounds me, how can my life be so full of light and love and I be so hopeless?), as I already mentioned the kids are doing well, growing and stretching into their adult selves in a very satisfying way. I have had 6 months of TR working at home, and it has been absolutely delightful to be near my true love everyday. He is back commuting into the office everyday, I miss him and bug him constantly. But I am thankful for the time we had. Breakfasts together, ( often eaten silently while he was on a call, but together nonetheless) company on errands when he had a lunch he could leave the house for. Mostly it was nice just to be near hm everyday.

Now it is time for me to scoot away, gather up all my carpool children and deliver them to the appropriate places. Maybe I will write down some things tomorrow. I am going to investigate how to make a fab journal!

That's all.

Tree in St. Stephen's Green

Take Three: Watercolor Memories

This segment of 8 Weeks Out has been sadly neglected and my memories of our activities and adventures have faded into the busy-ness of the summer which has transitioned in the new school year and brought with it all the distraction of a freshman and senior year.

Standing in support of Prima as she arranges her feathers in preparation for her first flight, is fraught with anxiety and anticipation. She is such a brilliantly sparkling person, I cannot imagine her flight falling short of fantastic. At the same time I am filled with parental anxiety at her living outside the boundary of my protection. I know that this is the moment TR and I have been building up to, and now that it is arriving, I am so torn. Of course I want her to fly high and far, I just can't divorce myself from the impulse to be there to catch her. They do grow so quickly.

And that brings my thoughts and concerns to my fabulous freshman. Primo has embarked on his own high school experience and is proving to shine as brightly as his sister. His grades are fine so far and he seems to have found a comfortable place to explore the intricacies of who he is. Lunch out with classmates, teachers he admires and enjoys taking classes with, taking public transportation home everyday, all of these thing seem to filling him with confidence and excitement. We do argue a bit about homework, but not too much. He seems to understand more than ever what's grades mean. I am ever hopeful that he sees them not as an eternal judgement of his character, but as a key to unlocking the doors to his own future. I know I will feel the same as I do about Prima, when it is his turn to go, but I do so want him to stand with a key ring full of keys when he gets to those doors.

My own personal ambitions, achievements and general feelings are much the same as usual, general frustration and confusion at my lack. Lack of everything, except belongings. But now that I am writing about me, my interest is trickling away and i feel the impulse to go do something else. Let me see if I have a photo to end with...

Take Three: Hope on the Horizon

A documentation of Wednesday, June 24, 2015

Our landlady at Armcashel is very attentive and we are not allowed to skip breakfast at her specific instruction, and in order to serve each table with complete attention, she schedules each room in 15 minute intervals. So we were slotted for a 9:15 breakfast time with a 10:00 appointment, which meant hurrying through breakfast as politely as we could and scooting off to the house.

NF was there when we arrived, though she assured us she had only just arrived and that she was enjoying the view when we pulled in. We took her into the new house and she said it all looked good, that we didn't really need to do much to get it going and that we were lucky to have found an older cottage in such good shape.

She then went on to say that since it had already been modernized, it wasn't worth the expense and trouble of undoing things like the concrete facing to bring it back to it's original condition. She was, in fact, very practical about the whole thing and said that some purists would say we should scrap all the 'upgrades' but that she felt that things like the cement facing didn't harm the building at all and in her opinion created a kind of "a raincoat" that kept the dampness out. She kept apologizing for not "being much help" but I have to say that she was very reassuring and gave me a lot of hope for forward motion.

After we thoroughly examined the new house we walked up to the old house to check it over. NF was very patient while going over the new house but it was clear that she was excited to go look at the old one. We fought our way through the wild overgrowth of queen anne's lace and nettles and went in. She looked delighted! She was especially excited about seeing the outshot, as she had never seen one in person before and she thought they were fairly uncommon to find nowadays. She said overall the house looked like it was in really good shape, that what we really need to do first is fix the roof and chimney and that would keep it sound for another 100 years. She suggested we photograph the house in as much detail as possible so that when we are finally able to move forward with it, we know how things were put together, so we can replicate it.

Armed with that thought, LS and I set about recording the old house with my pocket camera, I photographed as much detail as I could and we lost ourselves in the task at hand. Birds serenaded us and the queen anne's lace scented the air with its heavy, sweet fragrance. we pushed past brambles, stopped down nettles, LS took a piece of wood she found and dug down until she found a concrete floor under all that dirt! I do remember when we first bought the house, thinking that we would dig out all the dirt and find something underneath. At that point cattle had used the house as shelter for so many years that the dirt was as hard as concrete and we couldn't make a dent with the shovel we bought. Now that a decade or more has passed the dirt was fluffy and loose, LS was able to dig right down with no problem and she was so excited when she hit the concrete. It looks like it might have tiny pebbles embedded in the concrete, whether decorative or just the material they used, it is beautiful and we were so pleased to find it there. LS was inspired to stay and keep digging, she wanted to go and find a shovel at DM's but the camera ran out of room and it started to rain so we headed back into town to find a cell phone.

Ahhh, here is the part of the trip that gave me the most trouble, (but not for too long) driving. I was fine driving in places where I had been before, even as a passenger on trips where TR was the driver. But when I suddenly found myself driving AND trying to find a store or other destination, it became very difficult and, well, pretty stressful. We drove around Roscommon town trying to find the landmarks RM had told us about that would lead us to the Cell Phone Store. We drove behind the main street, we took a couple of different turnoffs on the big roundabout, we ended up at Tesco, starving and went in to find ready made food. No dice. We headed over to Supervalu, found something to eat and sat in the car discussing what to do. LS texted the builder that the Ms had recommended to us and he called back while we were enjoying our car lunch. After making a date for the next evening, we headed out, following phone directions to find the Cell Phone Store and there it was right on the main street, practically next door to Jackson's. I popped in to see what I could arrange and LS went up to Frances Yarn Establishment to get another, badly needed, skein to finish up her project. All went well and we were done in plenty of time, we were going to head back to our room to freshen up and then go to dinner at The Moorings (RM had kindly made us a reservation which turned out to be necessary that whole week). As we sped towards Castlerea we decided that it would take too long and we abandoned freshening up for timelines, rerouted and headed to the restaurant.

We arrived 30 minutes early, which turned out not to be a problem. We were seated in the solarium, which was far too hot for LS and despite the waiter trying to open windows and close blinds, the temperature remained in the surface-of-the-sun zone for the duration of dinner. The food was really good and the atmosphere (heat aside) was charming and we had a delightful dinner.

Afterwards we had hoped to explore Boyle Abbey, thinking that it was the kind of thing that was just open to the public at all times. But no, it was locked up and we strolled along the sidewalk admiring the remains of what was once a bustling, busy center of the community. Afterwards we headed home for some much deserved rest.

And that was that!

main room and cold storage visible

"fix the chimney and roof"

stairs to the loft (also an unusual feature in this type of house)

window in the mud room

our concrete floor!

View from the chimney

fireplace with swing arm and pots

roof of the outshot

Boyle Abbey

Boyle Abbey

Take Three: Abbreviation

In the interest of posting something instead of nothing this will be a super abbreviated post. Let me add the reminder to myself that Wednesday which would have followed the last post was the day we met with NF from the Roscommon County Council and it was a great meeting. I will give details in the next post. In this post, photos!

ready for anything!

Off comes the rotten 'skirting' (I will be fully fluent in Irish Builder's Terms when done with this project!)

Skirting removed from the baby bedroom (it's time!)

clean up time

adding a little cheer

LS models the latest in demolition headwear

beside the hearth in the main room

main room de-skirted (my own technical term)

"tiles" removed from bathroom floor

before

after

Take Three: Up and Running?

On Wednesday, we did nothing, that's not entirely true, we did eat breakfast, as we do every morning, thanks to our wonderful proprietress RM. But let me back up to Tuesday...

Tuesday we planned to catch up on our social calls, as we had missed everyone on Sunday and Monday (except the Ms). We took care of our housekeeping in our room and headed to NW's for a visit, when was warm and wonderful and carried us into the afternoon. We were lucky enough to meet up with SC and had a lovely visit with her. Afterwards we headed to the Badger's Den... and checked in on it. All was in order so we flew away on and adventure. Well there was a period of rest back at our room for a little bit.

We drove up to Sligo for dinner at Shells, fish and chips! After eating all we could possibly fit in, we drove to Knocknarea for the long climb to Maeve's Cairn. Climbing up that mountain is tough on a full stomach. I have to confess, I used the Kimmy Schmidt method after a awhile, I just kept counting from 1 to 10 over and over. Of course the climb is always worth it and we were up top for quite a while, looking at the stones full of sea fossils and examining the exposed tombs and cairn. The view was breathtaking, clear, endless. We didn't know but it was a special night of bonfires and every direction we turned in there were plumes of some drifting upwards from a fire. As we descended, there was one where the flames were clearly visible and the closer we got we realized that the fire itself was as big as a house. It was late, darkness was descending and we climbed in our car and headed home. At one point we passed a bonfire that looked like it was practically on the road. Cones placed on the road warned of the upcoming obstacle, children skipped and danced at the side of the road, faces lit by the fire and with excitement, eyes sparkling.

Getting in late, we weren't sleepy and we stayed up far later than we should have, talking to our dear ones over vast oceans and continents. It was a glorious day in Ireland as usual, the countryside endlessly rolling out in waves of grass, bowing and bending as the wind brushes of and through it. The sky filling with clouds only to be blown away and then fill up again.

In the interest of progress, I am going to post this abbreviated post and then try for longer one later, here are some photos:

Knocknarea panorama

View from Kkocknarea

Ben Bulben

and Good Night?

Take Three: Baby Steps

We shall see if N@the RCC is in fact a lady or a man. For some reason in our emails I have thought of her/him as a lady. Then I looked the name up online and it was touted a male name. Then when we called on DM and LM they said it was a female name. So only time will tell.

It was a productive and full day, LS and I started out slowly, walking over from our B&B to the house of the High King's of Ireland for a tour. It was lovely, our tour guide is a descendant of the family, through his mother, and he and his wife still live in the family home. It is filled with unbelievably wonderful artifacts and antiques that have been his families possessions since they were new. We were shown a "bride", the stone that represents Ireland and was used in the coronation of kings for centuries, perhaps a millennium. There was the imprint of a footprint, the spot, that for hundreds if not thousands of years his ancestors placed their foot upon the rock and vowed their loyalty to the land and it's people. We were told that there are only two stones of that kind left today, the one from his family in his garden and the "King Stone" of Scottish fame that resides under the throne in Westminster Abbey.  His family has had a long and involved with Ireland and even at their darkest or lowest point they never gave up their identity or purpose. We walked into the grounds to the house and on the walk out, our host came driving down the road/driveway and stopped to offer us a ride. Pretty fab, I thought!

We went from there back to the B&B where we gathered up all ur thoughts and efforts, I checked in with TR, LS checked in with her family we got ourselves together and we took off for dinner and stuff. We had a delightful meal at Jackson's (is it telling that this restaurant is thousands of miles from my year round residence but they still know me there? Guess I eat at the same places all the time!) and then we headed out to our village to call on friend and family.

We literally popped in on NW, she was inside watching TV and didn't hear us but we heard some noises round the back and we investigated. We found HC and boy was he surprised to see us. I realize now that I have never met him but I introduced us and he showed us into the house where we had a quick visit with NW and planned a longer visit for the next day.

We went up the LM and DM's house where the eldest of the young Miss M's was still awake. We presented her with a teddy, which she seemed to love and we all sat for tea and a long chat about how to 'do up' the cottage, it was a lovely and very informative visit.

Armed with hope, a list of contacts and a plan we headed home where we stayed up way to late chatting online with our beloved family members and watching silly things on tv.

And now Goodnight.

the little bedroom

carpet out, 'skirting' (baseboards) off

tiniest fireplace ever