Today is the shopping ferry/bus trip. A group of islanders cross.... I stay home and the boxes I order in advance come to the door.....getting too old to travel.
Needs hardly saying that with the high wind and continual heavy deluges, the ferry is cancelled today. Apocalyptic weather....
So emails have been flying with the sheer miracle email is, to rearrange and reorganise for tomorrow..
Of course I keep copious extra stocks in here for such eventualities and could last a few weeks if need be...
No raw chicken for the cats though! It got missed last week, so spares were used. Plenty of tins.. and other treasures in the freezer.. adaptability is the key to island life,,,
And the rain keeps sheeting down, hard against the walls and roof .
Thursday, May 30, 2019
Wednesday, May 29, 2019
Wild, wet, windy...
The weather shattered yesterday with heavy rain. Yellow alerts trimmed the met.ie forecasts and the sky went a lowering gray.
Rain that after abnormally dry months is so much needed, and in abundance. The earth is parched, nothing is growing well,
So now, wind howling and buffeting. No mountains, just lowering gray clouds. Intermittent heavy showers, chill .
But the birds sing on! .
Here, simplicity. Quietude, hands busy with work that will sell to feed babies who have nothing unless we give it. Currently deep purple baggy cabled legwarmers as fashion dictates.. books and youtube,. cats asleep after being out a long while.
Bliss!
Rain that after abnormally dry months is so much needed, and in abundance. The earth is parched, nothing is growing well,
So now, wind howling and buffeting. No mountains, just lowering gray clouds. Intermittent heavy showers, chill .
But the birds sing on! .
Here, simplicity. Quietude, hands busy with work that will sell to feed babies who have nothing unless we give it. Currently deep purple baggy cabled legwarmers as fashion dictates.. books and youtube,. cats asleep after being out a long while.
Bliss!
Monday, May 27, 2019
Monday flowers..
To brighten the day!
Gardening on a small pension is very easy!
The rose bush cost one euro at a "pound shop" several years ago and blooms every year. .... three flowers now..
The marigolds aka calendula survived the winter; although they are often classed as annuals, they will live up to nine years.
Last autumn I checked my seed box and scattered a few very old packets. So now I have a riot of forget me nots and some other flowering plants from the same sowing are showing buds .
Flowers feed the soul and cheer the heart.
Oh and this formidable Marsh Thistle watches over the field...
Gardening on a small pension is very easy!
The rose bush cost one euro at a "pound shop" several years ago and blooms every year. .... three flowers now..
The marigolds aka calendula survived the winter; although they are often classed as annuals, they will live up to nine years.
Last autumn I checked my seed box and scattered a few very old packets. So now I have a riot of forget me nots and some other flowering plants from the same sowing are showing buds .
Flowers feed the soul and cheer the heart.
Oh and this formidable Marsh Thistle watches over the field...
Sunday, May 26, 2019
Of islands...May thoughts
Of islands.
Local lore insists that there are 365 islands in Clew Bay, one for each day of the year...a whimsical and endearing thought.
Without even thinking of counting, there are islands in large numbers all along the west coast...although a day or three out on the water appeals..
When, some 3 years ago, it was decided that I retire from street markets and craft fairs ( 12 hour days out in all weathers is a little too much for such an old person!) my heart turned to my old thoughts of living again on an island. ... a small and very quiet one.
So what became an intriguing and fascinating quest began in earnest, rather than just casually as it has been before.
As a friend and former colleague of over 55 years standing reminded me, I have always been drawn to islands. I can date that no to at least 16 years old; add to that summers in Anglesey and Cornwall, on the ocean's edge.. tides and seaweed, sand and rocks...can you not smell that glorious air!
Every holiday in the decades past had to be ... an island.. Iona, the Hebrides, Caldey, the Channel Islands, Orkney, anywhere as long as there was a boat and water. Always as we left, standing gazing back in longing, yearning to know what it was like when the visitors had left.. hating to leave...
Learning to avoid rose-tinted glasses. Learning to watch and wait and assess what you really seek and need. To be uncompromisingly practical.
NB for those who live such sites as I do, see https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/List_of_islands_of_Ireland
for a comprehensive list; nb the population figures are now out of date,
I spent many a while here, rejecting any island that has a bridge or causeway! Seeking a real island.!
Reluctantly taking my eyes away from the holy places, the now all but deserted monastic sites. Unlike Skellig Michael, many others rest in utter quietude... High Island, Inishglora, Where monastics could be safe in the peace, away from the outside world. a refuge of prayer.
So along the coast here I voyaged! Not, I hasten to explain, in person. To visit brings in a whole different dimension.
The pattern emerged. Many once well populated islands now have a few holiday homes only. People seek more these days than basic living with minimal facilities. And once a population falls beneath a certain level and especially when there are too few families for there to be a school...
For me, finding a longterm rental was at the brass tacks heart of the quest.
Many of the islands are striving to survive, as are coastal areas, by holiday lets. Tourism. So they seek rather to let in summer and have the properties lie empty all winter rather than add full time residents to the basic core population. It works, short term at least and many love visiting in summer.
There are some hard sagas of islands that lost the fight to survive..
This poignant film tells a sad story
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=VmXb2sIFJuY
The opening words express the theme
and this
http://www.inishbofin.com/death-of-inishark/
One man is on record as saying, "No one should have to live without a doctor or electricity.. " But that is how many choose to live in many places now .
Seeking basic facilities and resources.
As it is, many of the successful islands have changed in the need for updating to survive and thrive.
My policy of not visiting had its exception. Omey Island is a tidal "island". I happened at the village as a funeral was assembling; the last living resident.
Watching the funeral procession cross the sands at low tide was a poignant and moving occasion.
https://www.irishtimes.com/news/ireland/irish-news/omey-island-s-last-resident-crosses-strand-at-low-tide-one-final-time-1.2968365
The following week I , as I lived then in Connemara, I called on the man who cares for it. He kindly drove me over; something I could not face doing ( far too much imagination), and showed me a tiny house he had been raised in.. that I could have rented.
But since they put a Wild Atlantic way marker up, folk have walked across the sands at low tide in droves. And it was far too accessible for my needs and I dreaded the idea of getting the tide times wrong..being stranded in a car sinking in sand.. OH My!.
Blasket was interesting. The Slea Head drive became a huge favourite when I lived in Kerry. If you are ever near Dingle, please take my heart with you as you drive it... I left part of it there.. and allow a few hours for the Blasket Centre, a work of devotion and a rich resource.
I used to stop at the wide layby opposite the Crucifixion, where seagulls soar and dive with their haunting insistent call. And was chatting to three young German women who worked in Dublin as we gazed across at the island. Oh and once a man let me watch the seals through his telescope, on the beaches over there.
Sheer magic..
They were wildly enthusiastic about the island... until I mentioned I would love to live there...but there were no supply lines, nothing basic even. There are lines below which you cannot safely go, in respect for tide, time, weather . My years in the North Sea taught me a sturdy realism.
The reaction to my words!
HORROR! Nothing to do, no where to get to....
One of those moments when you realise you are on a different road from those around you. Reminding me of on the North sea island and a storm had knocked the power out so the repair men were out. Most of them were terrified of missing the boat, while a few chose to stay at an excellent B and B.
I am a stayer. And knew that when the right place showed, I would know .
That my needs are basic and simple. No social gatherings needed.. That once settled, I would be rarely off the island. Once supply lines were established. Which in these days of internet shopping is so easy to do, Internet access essential..
Many see an island as restrictive, rather like a prison? One person opined " If something happens YOU CAN'T GET OFF! "
As was pointed out very early to me, we have a helipad and would get to hospital by Air Ambulance far faster than by road.
They see not the safety here , protected by the ocean. Preparing to move to mainland Ireland from a North sea island was worrying. So.... accessible...Here there is safety. Ocean all sides. My cats too are safe. Everyone here knows they are mine. They can roam and run, coming home for food and sleep.
And I am old and need so little! Gardening, knitting, reading, above all praying. In the deep quietude here. A roof, a bed, food , work for my hands, growing flowers and food, and the unspoiled, unmanicured loveliness; all around.
Listening to high tide on the shore, rattling the rocks.. the cry of sea birds,,, cuckoo and lark, The lark singing well before 4 am...
Thoughts on a May Sunday as a welcome wind gusts and ruffles. The days of flat calm are over. there has been good, sustaining rain. My small flowery patch is colouring more and more now. Growing from seed, patience and so fulfilling.
Local lore insists that there are 365 islands in Clew Bay, one for each day of the year...a whimsical and endearing thought.
Without even thinking of counting, there are islands in large numbers all along the west coast...although a day or three out on the water appeals..
When, some 3 years ago, it was decided that I retire from street markets and craft fairs ( 12 hour days out in all weathers is a little too much for such an old person!) my heart turned to my old thoughts of living again on an island. ... a small and very quiet one.
So what became an intriguing and fascinating quest began in earnest, rather than just casually as it has been before.
As a friend and former colleague of over 55 years standing reminded me, I have always been drawn to islands. I can date that no to at least 16 years old; add to that summers in Anglesey and Cornwall, on the ocean's edge.. tides and seaweed, sand and rocks...can you not smell that glorious air!
Every holiday in the decades past had to be ... an island.. Iona, the Hebrides, Caldey, the Channel Islands, Orkney, anywhere as long as there was a boat and water. Always as we left, standing gazing back in longing, yearning to know what it was like when the visitors had left.. hating to leave...
Learning to avoid rose-tinted glasses. Learning to watch and wait and assess what you really seek and need. To be uncompromisingly practical.
NB for those who live such sites as I do, see https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/List_of_islands_of_Ireland
for a comprehensive list; nb the population figures are now out of date,
I spent many a while here, rejecting any island that has a bridge or causeway! Seeking a real island.!
Reluctantly taking my eyes away from the holy places, the now all but deserted monastic sites. Unlike Skellig Michael, many others rest in utter quietude... High Island, Inishglora, Where monastics could be safe in the peace, away from the outside world. a refuge of prayer.
So along the coast here I voyaged! Not, I hasten to explain, in person. To visit brings in a whole different dimension.
The pattern emerged. Many once well populated islands now have a few holiday homes only. People seek more these days than basic living with minimal facilities. And once a population falls beneath a certain level and especially when there are too few families for there to be a school...
For me, finding a longterm rental was at the brass tacks heart of the quest.
Many of the islands are striving to survive, as are coastal areas, by holiday lets. Tourism. So they seek rather to let in summer and have the properties lie empty all winter rather than add full time residents to the basic core population. It works, short term at least and many love visiting in summer.
There are some hard sagas of islands that lost the fight to survive..
This poignant film tells a sad story
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=VmXb2sIFJuY
The opening words express the theme
and this
http://www.inishbofin.com/death-of-inishark/
One man is on record as saying, "No one should have to live without a doctor or electricity.. " But that is how many choose to live in many places now .
Seeking basic facilities and resources.
As it is, many of the successful islands have changed in the need for updating to survive and thrive.
My policy of not visiting had its exception. Omey Island is a tidal "island". I happened at the village as a funeral was assembling; the last living resident.
Watching the funeral procession cross the sands at low tide was a poignant and moving occasion.
https://www.irishtimes.com/news/ireland/irish-news/omey-island-s-last-resident-crosses-strand-at-low-tide-one-final-time-1.2968365
The following week I , as I lived then in Connemara, I called on the man who cares for it. He kindly drove me over; something I could not face doing ( far too much imagination), and showed me a tiny house he had been raised in.. that I could have rented.
But since they put a Wild Atlantic way marker up, folk have walked across the sands at low tide in droves. And it was far too accessible for my needs and I dreaded the idea of getting the tide times wrong..being stranded in a car sinking in sand.. OH My!.
Blasket was interesting. The Slea Head drive became a huge favourite when I lived in Kerry. If you are ever near Dingle, please take my heart with you as you drive it... I left part of it there.. and allow a few hours for the Blasket Centre, a work of devotion and a rich resource.
I used to stop at the wide layby opposite the Crucifixion, where seagulls soar and dive with their haunting insistent call. And was chatting to three young German women who worked in Dublin as we gazed across at the island. Oh and once a man let me watch the seals through his telescope, on the beaches over there.
Sheer magic..
They were wildly enthusiastic about the island... until I mentioned I would love to live there...but there were no supply lines, nothing basic even. There are lines below which you cannot safely go, in respect for tide, time, weather . My years in the North Sea taught me a sturdy realism.
The reaction to my words!
HORROR! Nothing to do, no where to get to....
One of those moments when you realise you are on a different road from those around you. Reminding me of on the North sea island and a storm had knocked the power out so the repair men were out. Most of them were terrified of missing the boat, while a few chose to stay at an excellent B and B.
I am a stayer. And knew that when the right place showed, I would know .
That my needs are basic and simple. No social gatherings needed.. That once settled, I would be rarely off the island. Once supply lines were established. Which in these days of internet shopping is so easy to do, Internet access essential..
Many see an island as restrictive, rather like a prison? One person opined " If something happens YOU CAN'T GET OFF! "
As was pointed out very early to me, we have a helipad and would get to hospital by Air Ambulance far faster than by road.
They see not the safety here , protected by the ocean. Preparing to move to mainland Ireland from a North sea island was worrying. So.... accessible...Here there is safety. Ocean all sides. My cats too are safe. Everyone here knows they are mine. They can roam and run, coming home for food and sleep.
And I am old and need so little! Gardening, knitting, reading, above all praying. In the deep quietude here. A roof, a bed, food , work for my hands, growing flowers and food, and the unspoiled, unmanicured loveliness; all around.
Listening to high tide on the shore, rattling the rocks.. the cry of sea birds,,, cuckoo and lark, The lark singing well before 4 am...
Thoughts on a May Sunday as a welcome wind gusts and ruffles. The days of flat calm are over. there has been good, sustaining rain. My small flowery patch is colouring more and more now. Growing from seed, patience and so fulfilling.
Friday, May 24, 2019
Mild, muggy, midgy,,,
....and no wind to stir the air,
Before this, a couple of days of sweet warm sun and blue skies with spectacular clouds,
Days to sit outside and knit with the cats sprawled around me, to sow more seeds and check on the growing of those planted out... To watch bees in the broad bean blossom and dream of huge pods.. and butterflies newborn, flying drunkenly into walls. Loving the forgetmenots..
A taste of summer.
Now the dry spell is over, and in the warmer air seedlings, in perfect growing weather, are shooting and sprouting.
Life is changes.
Before this, a couple of days of sweet warm sun and blue skies with spectacular clouds,
Days to sit outside and knit with the cats sprawled around me, to sow more seeds and check on the growing of those planted out... To watch bees in the broad bean blossom and dream of huge pods.. and butterflies newborn, flying drunkenly into walls. Loving the forgetmenots..
Now the dry spell is over, and in the warmer air seedlings, in perfect growing weather, are shooting and sprouting.
Life is changes.
Sunday, May 19, 2019
Early to rise..
Yesterday, 5 am saw me out with the cats who wanted to walk ...
Almost full light, and the clouds climbing the mountains. Almost still but once we were clear of the dwelling, just enough movement in the air to dispel the hordes of Midian that are the dreaded midges.
The cuckoo calling overhead, and the lark a constant utter sweetness.
The lanes are a riot of wild flowers. The palette is gold and purple. Gorse and flag iris. Wild orchids and rhododendrons, or as one friend calls them rosiedendrums ... a glory of colour in these spring months.
Four of my five cats follow.. Jacob comes along the lane, then sits down and will come no further. He is middle- aged now! He watches and becomes smaller and smaller in the distance as we walk on.
Boycat plods! He is a senior citizen now and entitled to go at a sedate pace; but he loves a walk. The other two are the young rescues. Smudgie is into everything. Sellkie dances. From her build and her distinctive small white spots under armpits and tail and throat, from her mannerisms and above all her voice, she is a large part oriental. Shiny, silky, small boned, smooth coated. And utterly and charmingly affectionate.
So we turn off down the narrow track to the shore, a place I have not ventured since my dog died last year. It was her favourite walk and memories are slow to heal.
But watching Selkie of the twinkling legs take off there..
Right down to the shore we went. High tide and she raced off across the rocks. Agile and sure footed and utterly happy.
New memories, new lives to cherish. Three small cats safe and incredibly happy.
A lovely start to the day, in the utter solitary peace of early morning.
Almost full light, and the clouds climbing the mountains. Almost still but once we were clear of the dwelling, just enough movement in the air to dispel the hordes of Midian that are the dreaded midges.
The cuckoo calling overhead, and the lark a constant utter sweetness.
The lanes are a riot of wild flowers. The palette is gold and purple. Gorse and flag iris. Wild orchids and rhododendrons, or as one friend calls them rosiedendrums ... a glory of colour in these spring months.
Four of my five cats follow.. Jacob comes along the lane, then sits down and will come no further. He is middle- aged now! He watches and becomes smaller and smaller in the distance as we walk on.
Boycat plods! He is a senior citizen now and entitled to go at a sedate pace; but he loves a walk. The other two are the young rescues. Smudgie is into everything. Sellkie dances. From her build and her distinctive small white spots under armpits and tail and throat, from her mannerisms and above all her voice, she is a large part oriental. Shiny, silky, small boned, smooth coated. And utterly and charmingly affectionate.
So we turn off down the narrow track to the shore, a place I have not ventured since my dog died last year. It was her favourite walk and memories are slow to heal.
But watching Selkie of the twinkling legs take off there..
Right down to the shore we went. High tide and she raced off across the rocks. Agile and sure footed and utterly happy.
New memories, new lives to cherish. Three small cats safe and incredibly happy.
A lovely start to the day, in the utter solitary peace of early morning.
Monday, May 13, 2019
Early to rise..
After a brisk breeze yesterday, calm came in the night.
And my habit of early rising means I see glory like this
And my habit of early rising means I see glory like this
Friday, May 10, 2019
A stone wall...
This is the gable end of stone stables built over 150 years ago here. By hand, by the men,with rocks carried up from the ocean shore a hundred yards and more away. To shelter the cows that they relied on for milk and butter and cheese. In days past, one house would share a milk cow then another..
(Forgive please the slight slant; I had to stand in a ditch ..)
See the size of them, and the careful placing and design.
The roof is falling in and the old cottage is deserted now.
But this gable wall stands proud and strong and true in all the storms and Force Eleven gales. It sheltered cattle for decade after decade and now is a testament to endurance and strength.
It reminds every day of tenacity. Encourages and inspires.
Life on an offshore island...
A bright day here now. The clouds have climbed the mountains in the early stillness . Very chilly. All is peaceful here. The sweetness of my cats as they trust and revel in their freedom and in their safe place, The work of my hands that will provide milk for needy babies.
A new task! "Sleevies"! Fingerless gloves that extend to the elbow..
Sweet days.
Sunday, May 5, 2019
Sunday, sweet Sunday.
I was outside before half past five..... Clear shining sky and the encircling mountains etched in darkest grey against the rose tinted horizons.. Lambent glory, and utter calm.
Birdsong, and a distant cuckoo charming the air..skylark soaring high in ecstasy
A plane going over, and its contrail was rose pink...made me smile. Seeing life through a rosy glow indeed and although we know it may not last the ephemeral adds poignancy...
At the back a calm, serene ocean, almost bringing tears with the sheer beauty of it... power in abeyance.
Soon it will become more ordinary but soon after five am is a whole different scenario. Magical time... day newborn and pure
And on the lane, heavy frost on grass and wild flowers and a chill that ices the toes. A study in contrasts and the risen sun dazzling on a level with eyes .
Two of the young cats followed me on a walk along the lanes, racing and chasing, and as devoted as dogs. When one gets distracted and left behind, there is a sudden panic and a race... and a loud crow shouting from the esb cables has them at my heels.
Wild flowers are emerging of all kinds and the gorse a golden glory.... wild orchids a splash of purple, ragged robin, dog violets, white bluebells, speedwell. Air is sharp and fresh.
Monday now and skies are softly grey. Leaving sweet memories and a promise of more to come.
Day dawning in peace.
Birdsong, and a distant cuckoo charming the air..skylark soaring high in ecstasy
A plane going over, and its contrail was rose pink...made me smile. Seeing life through a rosy glow indeed and although we know it may not last the ephemeral adds poignancy...
At the back a calm, serene ocean, almost bringing tears with the sheer beauty of it... power in abeyance.
Soon it will become more ordinary but soon after five am is a whole different scenario. Magical time... day newborn and pure
And on the lane, heavy frost on grass and wild flowers and a chill that ices the toes. A study in contrasts and the risen sun dazzling on a level with eyes .
Two of the young cats followed me on a walk along the lanes, racing and chasing, and as devoted as dogs. When one gets distracted and left behind, there is a sudden panic and a race... and a loud crow shouting from the esb cables has them at my heels.
Wild flowers are emerging of all kinds and the gorse a golden glory.... wild orchids a splash of purple, ragged robin, dog violets, white bluebells, speedwell. Air is sharp and fresh.
Monday now and skies are softly grey. Leaving sweet memories and a promise of more to come.
Day dawning in peace.
Saturday, May 4, 2019
Sunny day ahead
Bitter cold on early rising. met ie admits to 2 degrees. And forecasts a clear sunny day ahead, then another very cold night..calm, no wind.
Very early, around 5 am, the skylark was already singing in the grey.
Only a few days ago the cuckoo was shouting his greetings also, but as last year, erratic these early weeks. I listen each day. But no song from him today.
Growth is erratic and patience needed. Germination is slow. Hannah blew labels away as I rescued seed trays from her, so I am waiting for the second true leaves to emerge to identify flowers. Hoping and praying for lupins as they will make a splash of colour here. One survived last year and is by the gate. Peas and beans that are planted out are slow to grow in cool weather so the next few days will support them. Kale seedlings in the fish box in the small improvised vegetable cage are up... so all is well .
Growing teaches patience and discipline.
And at the front, the patch of forgetmenots cheers!
Last autumn I scattered some very old seeds from aged packets and these were among them. These and overwintered marigolds have brought life and colour. Marigolds ie calendula are actually perennials and will live and flower up to nine years.
The leaves behind are yellow gladioli.
Planning bare root strawberry plants soon. And tree lupins as my seeds seem to have given up on germinating.. and to plant new willows from existing bushes, for cover.
Still working on cabled legwarmers for Canada, but soon another experiment on "sleevies" for those with cold hands and arms. An unending resource is knitting...
A long weekend here and all is quiet. Just..... quiet. Love it! The peace of it all. Apart and at ease with solitude.. The fortnightly groceries arrived two days ago so freezer and cupboards are well stocked. The weekend ahead at peace.
Very early, around 5 am, the skylark was already singing in the grey.
Only a few days ago the cuckoo was shouting his greetings also, but as last year, erratic these early weeks. I listen each day. But no song from him today.
Growth is erratic and patience needed. Germination is slow. Hannah blew labels away as I rescued seed trays from her, so I am waiting for the second true leaves to emerge to identify flowers. Hoping and praying for lupins as they will make a splash of colour here. One survived last year and is by the gate. Peas and beans that are planted out are slow to grow in cool weather so the next few days will support them. Kale seedlings in the fish box in the small improvised vegetable cage are up... so all is well .
Growing teaches patience and discipline.
And at the front, the patch of forgetmenots cheers!
Last autumn I scattered some very old seeds from aged packets and these were among them. These and overwintered marigolds have brought life and colour. Marigolds ie calendula are actually perennials and will live and flower up to nine years.
The leaves behind are yellow gladioli.
Planning bare root strawberry plants soon. And tree lupins as my seeds seem to have given up on germinating.. and to plant new willows from existing bushes, for cover.
Still working on cabled legwarmers for Canada, but soon another experiment on "sleevies" for those with cold hands and arms. An unending resource is knitting...
A long weekend here and all is quiet. Just..... quiet. Love it! The peace of it all. Apart and at ease with solitude.. The fortnightly groceries arrived two days ago so freezer and cupboards are well stocked. The weekend ahead at peace.
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Many years ago a dear friend, an nun, said. "Whenever I see a daisy I want to worship." When I see daisies, I remember her. Sma... -
The days fly by in a pageant of summer weather and summer activities.. Varied cloud and sun; a huge orange moon smiling ..... unusual birds ... -
Wind chill and my habitual early rising catches the legacy of night cold, Light soon after six am, but the walk today was a wind laced one...