What a good year for the roses

Is it too late for looking back on 2013? Probably for most. But not for me. The year lingered on as Christmas lingered and there was no rush to hang up the boots of 2013. Today, however, was the day that we hung down the Christmas lights, packed the tree away and took the last of the cards off the shelves and windows - the last of the 'welcome Alannah' baby cards too. The end of an era. And so today we finally put 2013 to rest. 

All in all, an exciting year. Anticipation and expectation mounted through the cold and painful months of January, February and March and finally Easter came and brought some warmth and sunshine to the Holly Cottage. In May we went tripping around the north east of Spain - Catalonian dreaming - sweet. All that seafood and Costa Brava sunshine, reminding me of what summers used to be like in Ireland before the country seemed to become permanently shrouded in grey and mist. 

Things were well on their way then in terms of baby growth but it was really only in June that people started to suspect that I was either going too heavy on the scones at tea time or that I actually really was expecting the pitter patter of tiny feet. I did have my own share of scones too mind ;) But I left them guessing for as long as I could - it was easily in the sixth month before people got brave enough to ask, and me assured enough to concur with their suspicions. It was easier to enjoy the sickness and the excitement in private for a while, but great to share when the right time came. And so uplifting to have the encouragement and support lavished on me from all quarters. Thanks to all. 

A rose for all seasons

The summer was beautiful - glorious. So rewarding to us poor Irish natives who had borne the weight of all that damp and heaviness since June 2008. We had a couple of weeks of BBQ bliss and long languorous evenings watching the sun as it barely left our view and dipped behind the majestic beech trees in the north west before returning to us in the east only a couple of hours later. Spectacular red sunsets and warm golden sunrises. A greater gift couldn't be asked for or dreamt of. There was a run on ice creams in the country. More of it I say ;) Seriously though - it felt just like the summers of childhood did, those days spent strolling around bee and butterfly busy fields and time at the beach when you never even dreamt of a phrase such as 'that feckin' water is freezing!'. Bliss indeed. 

And then September came. And ye know all about what happened next ;) What a beautiful autumn - warm and sunny most days with the occasional torrential downpour that led to the us calling the woods the 'rainforest' at times. All that walking and fresh air combined with bringing up baby. Flash forward four months to the day yesterday and she is shouting us orders and (still) dictating the pace in the Holly Cottage. I am glad she came just as the summer was fading as I'm not sure I would have accepted the restricted movement so easily when there was work to be done outside, drills to be weeded and seeds to be sown. No, I am certain that she arrived at just the right time - time enough to admire the view of the garden from the sunlit kitchen as we got to know each other, and time enough to reap the harvest of the summer sown at leisure, and time enough to walk in the lovely autumn air around the path that circles the bountiful vegetable patch. 

The darkest days have come and gone now and we have been lucky to share some warm and toasty days by the fire with friends and family, feasting on the fruits of 2013 and relishing in the memories brought to life by tastes and fragrances packed into jars and bottles especially for the festive season. Jams, relishes and chutneys are the most welcome at these times, along with the stores of tomatoes that make perfect heart warming winter soups. All in all it was the simple pleasures that made the winter and its Christmas for me - enjoying the delicious aroma and taste of good coffee and chocolate again (after nine months of nauseating at their prospect), sharing in the wonder of Alannah with my beloved, the miles walked in the woods, the storms enjoyed and passed, the antics of the bold Holly, the visitors from the UK and Germany, the trips to Mornington, Cappaduff and Cork and the visitors from Galway. 

Last of the summer roses

For sure, 2013 was one to remember. But let's park it there. For the new year has just begun and the dust of last year is now brushed away along with the wrapping and packaging that came with Christmas cheer. Time to move on, and time to look forward. Who knows what will happen in terms of seasons, travel, love and laughter, garden, walking, writing, music, friendships, family and the indomitable Holly. I look forward to sharing the stories as we walk and as they unfold. And just as last years sunshine brought pale pinks and blushing reds to the walls of the Holly Cottage let us have three cheers for a very fantastic and preciously good year for the roses. Thanks to Elvis Costello for the song in my head - Happy 2014! 

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=VtkboWw3Pnc

Time to stop and smell the roses

Summer pink - Handel rose..

It's Friday again - funny how it keeps coming round again, and again, and again....but the name of this day lingers on the mind, it settles in deeper and it releases those magical endorphins in the brain that course through the body to make each one of our component cells - from tired toes to limp limbs - tingle. Friday. Well, it does for me anyhow ;) It's the day when energy seems so low at about 2pm, and then you find yourself at the end of the routine working day and then unexpectedly, you're released from some (only a small some) of your responsibilities for two whole days. Two whole days. Days not to be ruined thinking on the past week too much, and never, ever, ever let it be said you ruined a perfectly good Sunday evening by dreading the thoughts of the chilly Monday morning. No! These two days are to be savoured - and these two days begin with the word Friday ;)

Of course, like any normal Friday, I immediately kicked into action and instead of winding down, it all started to wind up. Quel suprise! It started with a blissfully cool and green walk in the woods - far from tarred roads and artificial surfaces. We had to trip our way over roots and branches and brambles, and bare the soft brown, leaf strewn path as we wound our way through the wise silence of the oak woods. The light that flickered through the tall canopy of leaves was like a stream of golden kisses for those of us who chose to hide from the glare of the bared summer sun (no clouds, no rain....I know!!!).

Staying cool

After Holly's woodland adventure walk it was back to the garden. Now, in terms of yoga postures there were squats, cat, forward bends, backward bends, rotations, balancing acts, warrior I and II, mindful breathing and mountain pose - but to mention the obvious few. All these were manifested while graceful hoeing manoeuvres were conducted to the orchestra of potatoes, beans, peas and salads that all played their symphonic masterpieces this evening. All this earthly music while weeding the drills, thinning the seedlings, tidying the overgrowth and harvesting the never ending red torrent of strawberries that cascade down long green stems amongst endless adventurous runners. 

I'm well squatted now and even Holly seemed to be telling me to stop as the sun dipped behind the tree giants that guard the kingdom of Charleville. And that is the best time to smell to roses - the evening air, the setting sun, the scent of soft pink roses drifting over the host of garden compatriots that were readying themselves for the short night ahead - divine. And then there is the feast of colour to nurture the over-stretched mind of the previous five days - starflower blue, rose red, geranium cerise, golden nasturtium, blushing rambler rose and green green green of promising peas and bountiful beans...sweet. And it's only just begun. Have a great weekend....and wherever you are, be kind to yourself and stop and smell the roses - make sure it's a pink one though, those red ones are always a let down - all that drama has a cost. Don't be fooled :)

Summer in the garden - nearly 10pm....
remember this in December!

Christmas at Mornington (and a Holly Cottage Christmas Rose)

Quick - the Holly Cottage greenhouse is falling down!

The drama of the longest night is over, and it is the turn of Christmas to take the spotlight. Chicken Licken and Henny Penny might have been waiting for the sky to fall down, but nothing of the sort happened. Did anyone think it would? 

Here in the Holly Cottage a few things went bump alright - mostly in the night ;) The winds of Saturday night managed to take the greenhouse half down - a pitiful sight for a sunny Sunday morning. It was fixed with a few plastic ties and a bit of strategic propping - should get us through this week when there ought to be little or no cares and worries. And then the rains of the last few nights have seeped through the broken roof tile and the underlay to create a beautiful brown, foreboding damp spot on the hall ceiling - visible only this morning but hinted at for the last few weeks. Ho Hum. Dear Santa - please  send a builder and a roof fixing technician to make our Christmas dry and warm and make sure the roof doesn't fall in. Too big a job for the busy toy-giving man methinks. Let's just think positively and hope for the best...

And so yesterday, after a bit of emergency DIY on the greenhouse I headed over for the annual (and not be missed) excursion to see Katy O'Hara and the folk of Mornington House for a bit of a Christmas do. I was left to my own devices as the love of my life was stuck to the Mac keyboard mixing and adding bits to the next song to be posted on Reverberation/catherinewilkie. But not to worry, I would only have to eat and drink enough for the both of us in his absence ;)

Mornington House - home from home

I first met up with the fabulous Miss Katy O'Hara whilst working for a summer in Cape May, New Jersey over 15 years ago. There was eleven of us Irish living in a very small three bedroomed bungalow on Union St in Cape May. I slept on the floor most of the time, and even though there were many moments when friendships were tested, one or two of the girls I met that summer will be friends forever. And so, almost every Christmas for the past near 20 years, I have been heading to Katy's house in Mornington for a bit of a Christmas do - ranging from a few leftovers sandwiches on a sedate Stephen's Day to full blown New Year's Eve Black Tie Ball. It's definitely one of the best places that I know of for a party and the welcome from Warwick and Anne makes it feel like I am one of the prodigal children coming home licking my wounds after a long year on the battlefield of life. To be greeted with love and kindness and usually a full plate and glass to celebrate my return. Oh so nice.

Once inside the door of Mornington you are literally transported back in time, back about a hundred years at least - the wood panelled entrance hall, the fire-lit warmth of the 1896 drawing room and the magnificent dining room that rings with the laughter of the many candlelit dinners and glasses of wine shared there. Warwick and Anne managed to feed 40+ guests aged from 3 to 93, and keep everyone  cheerful on that sunny Sunday afternoon. Warwick was hardly without a bottle or a pot of tea in his hand to pour for man, woman or child, (plus one dog and small kitten) while Anne was overseeing the smooth running of the show. Katy and Pat - the next generation - managed to row in from the shadows making sure the 40 or so of us that rambled in from the four corners of Ireland were kept cosy for the afternoon.

Anne is Number 1 cook (follow her lovely blog http://morningtonhouse.wordpress.com) although Warwick's experience is to be also sought after. Three types of curry - ranging from creamy, fruity and spicy - nothing too hot, and all the trimmings - raita, chutney, yogurt, fruit, naan, and popadoms freshly cooked. Followed by lashings of trifle, chocolate log, meringues, apple pie and my indulgence - the annual mince pie. Now, I am not a fan of those dreadful thrown together mince pies - especially the mass produced variety - but after my own mother's, Anne O'Hara's comes in as a close second. Feeding frenzy over, and seconds had - we bathed in the warmth of the Mornington embrace.

The children chased the kitten around the drawing room, Ned the dog sniffed every trouser leg and shoe going, the donkeys - Holly and Molly - basked in the rare winter sunshine outside and the rest of us in Mornington shared the stories of the year passed and the hopes for year future. Days like that in Mornington remind me that often times friends become family, and family is of course what Christmas is all about.

Not to be trifled with ;)

And so for everyone who shares this blog - friends, family and friends not yet made - enjoy Christmas for what it is. A chance to stop and share a mince pie, or a drink with an old friend. Enjoy making new ones. And be thankful and grateful that we made it round this way again. It didn't quite work out like that for Chicken Licken and Henny Penny, but they did forget to live in the present and were too freaked out worrying about future. For the future will come despite all hesitancy and trepidation, and it will pass. No doubt. 

One last thing - I wanted to share our garden surprise with you - a rogue rose that appeared in the garden this week in the midst of an overgrown mess down the back corner. A thing of great beauty in otherwise darkened surroundings - our Christmas rose. A Happy and Peaceful Christmas to all from the Holly Cottage gang. Enjoy it wherever you are.

Our Christmas Rose

Garden suprises

All summer we've been finding the unexpected cropping up in the garden - by the way, it's largely a vegetable garden with a few flowering plants thrown in to keep the bees happy :)

This evening I landed home from a round trip to Erris in County Mayo, and while re-acquainting myself with this summer's Holly Cottage garden veggys I spotted something blonde and dazzling from the corner of my tired from driving eye. Over the last year we've been slowly clearing out the front garden (aka bombshelled area that has been ignored for the last two years) and the odd rose I tried to salvage usually died at my clumsy, amateur flowering fingertips. One of these I had tried to save but failed, and it ended up on the green waste area in the furthest darkest, coldest corner of the garden..to be forgotten. But funny how it happens that a plant will just suprise you. This fiesty rose wasn't going to settle for dried out potential fire starter - it has somehow taken root amongst the sticks of chopped up snowberry and despite all odds, is currently displaying two beautiful yellow roses with more buds to follow! And the scent, well. Do the old roses have the best of scents? This rose was probably growing in the front for maybe even 50 years. And there I had banished it to the cold and dark. Respect :)

Other welcome suprises (weeds don't count) are a few rogue tomato plants, several sporadic flowering blackcurrants, the odd holly sapling, a couple of unknown squash plants (hopefully they will provide a fruit) and the tastiest wild rocket ever. The rocket has superseded the variety we planted - it has a yellow flower and a very peppery taste. Four plants around the garden are enough for both of us and Holly the dog (she has a thing for lettuce, peas and strawberries).

So you never know! Before you top that potential weed, have a close look and be sure it's not a more welcome garden suprise...