A Day in the Life

Run Holly Run!

Inspired by the idea of flooding social media with poetry, I decided to throw my own creation into the rising waters ;) Write what you know the wise ones say, so this one is a reflection of my current days 'bringing up baby'. I hope you enjoy.

A Day in the Life 

(working title)

We awaken

In the dark

Last stars fade

Daylight creeps

Get up stand up wake up sore back

Pull the blinds

Let day begin

Let dog out do her business

Wash my face and watch it fold

Lift the baby

Change the baby

Smile into her smiles

Warmth of joy at being

Mindful princess.

Alannah to play-station now

Radio on classical

Boil the kettle

Feed the dog

Sweep the floor

Do few jobs

Wake the house

Pour the milk

Oats swell up to meet banana

Eat over-looking winter’s garden

Robin’s work is never done

Alannah cries time for feeding

And then she sleeps

Tea for me

And I pretend to be a writer

For half an hour

And work on a novel too old to be called novel.

Sun is shining

When she wakes again

Illuminating cottage kitchen

Change the baby

Happy smiling chatty

Then I feed her

Tiny toes wriggling as she latches on

All casual like

And then she’s not interested

Down on her mat on the floor

And I do a few things more

And then I play with her because she’s bored

Get the keys and lock her up

Lock her up, lock her up

Until heart-breaking cry that only we know

Mammy, Mammy I’m falling - help me!

Holding my hand holding hers

Mother’s best to soothe her

Fall into that darkest space

Where she won’t see me feel me need me

Losing mind to sleep.

And then I pretend to be a writer

Check my email, FB, Twitter

Anticipate the weather

Turning cold and misting sky

A solid roof of grey.

Holly prowls

Time for walkies

Dog leads our circus to the wood

Three musketeers

Together breathing

In the cold

Alannah’s face to heaven

Discovering sounds - ooos aaas

Delivered up to twigs and branching

Beech and towering oaks

Hovering over

Seeing through the canopy now

A tired head falls on my chest

This time peaceful

No telling signs

And I fall into my stride

And I wish that this would never end

This special time

Being mother and best friend

Her cold bare hands in mine

I stare into giant oaks that live

In timeless mystical world.

Holly staying close

Sniffing out woodland clues to

Reddest squirrels

Other musketeers

She looks to tell me with most

Honest of her trickster eyes

We must go back

Home through big open field

For that is where she gets best runs

From over top of hill

Rounding fence and back to me.

And so we go home through big field

Holly reaches for her peak

Run Holly run!

Helicopter ears -

Woosh woosh

Tongue bouncing

Mind rushing

Happiness pulsing

And then we must cross the fence

And Holly waits to go back under

Lead fastened.

Around the bend through castle gates 
Holly pulling us along

Meeting friendly faces

Everybody wants to talk

Or catch the eye of brave a leanbh

Who might gift unto them

Four and a half month baby’s wisdom and the smile

Emperors would bleed for.

Home in gentle raindrops

We walk around the garden

Blackbird following in robin’s steps

I wonder is it time to dig again

Heaving off wellies and coats

Carrying Alannah

Quick change quick feed

She sits and thinks in bouncy chair

Time maybe for another little sleep

I look to evening sky to say

Prize-winning story comes tomorrow

But I will think on it today.

Yogi salutes the sun, and Ted ;) 
yogi bears

Coffee time for me now

Savour last forbidden drops

Hope she sleeps until

Coffee has been drunk

And mother’s milk is cleansed

And then she wakes all smiles again

And then it’s one more time upon the mat

Watching me salute the sun

And I might contemplate a run

As skirts and leggings become less fun

Blinds pulled now

January’s sun is set

Heating on ‘til fire is lit

Dinner preparation at its get

And he asks, what would you like?

And I say, oh I don’t mind

And he says no - what would you like?

And that is when I must decide

And I watch as spice man cometh

And daily bread begins to fold

Aromas revealed

Cinnamon, fennel, cumin, cloves

And I am hungrier than ever I was.

Eating now

Silence mostly

She watches on

From buggy first and then my knee

And I don’t know what she sees or

What she thinks

This and every time.

Eating done

Coffee for him green tea for me

Baby feeds and cries until

Nighttime is too heavy to hold

And she is tumbled down

To summoning sleep

Our time now

We sit and watch until

Tiredness kicks in

My turn now to fight the sleep

One more time she drinks

Half awake then back to sleep

A tender hook in

Rudolph pajamas too cute for her not to wear

This late in January.

Mother lies beside

Trusting bundle of the softest sighs

Wondering

What was it like before she began?

Doors open and close

As he lets Holly out

Sound of his toothbrush

Before we wrap together

Musing to the weather

Tired comfort whispers

Glad for

Silences between

Precious in absentia dramatic

That everything is as it is.

And then it happens

At a time

To us unknown

Only silence of sleeping

For there is no-one now to listen

Three have journeyed past the hearing

Surrendering helplessly unto

Heavy weight of day and night

We fall our separate ways

Back into darkness of light

Back to where it all began

To where it all begins again

For this is all there is

We three are one

Of billions

One

This is all there is.

Catherine Wilkie

26/01/2014

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

Seeing the Mystic in Falling Leaves

Journey into
the darker half of the year..Samhain

There's something completely magical about this time of the year. Not magical in the Christmas sense when artificial lights are colouring houses and trees. And not magical like springtime when hosts of daffodils bend over footpaths and otherwise dreary motorways. This is mystical magical. This is the time of year when everything that we took for granted - long summer evenings, leaves on trees and things a' growing in the garden - is taken from us. The evenings shorten, the lights come on early, the fire is lit everyday and slowly but surely things that were green and living, giving - start to decay and the boundaries between living and dying are blurred. No wonder it is the time of Hallowe'en and the time for spirits to cross over into the world of the living, reminding us of our own mortality. Us Gaels refer to it as Samhain - the seasonal festival that marks the end of the harvest or growing year and welcomes the darker half of the year until the light returns again in Bealtaine (the start of May). Samhain is essentially a festival for the dead and Bealtaine a festival for the living. Meanwhile, back in 2012 Ireland....

While we shiver and bemoan winter's return, those non-humans living closer to the march of Nature's tune surrender without a peep of discontent. Towering beech trees drop the spring green leaves of summer with a gentle shiver - not however without celebrating their passing with a veritable carnival of colour - the like of which would match the canvases of any Van Gogh or Gauguin kaleidoscope of colour. The trees' palette is mostly orange and rust and yellow and purple and green (reminiscent of The Orb's Little Fluffy Clouds anyone?) and all shades between. Walls of burnt orange tunnelling a long beech lined avenue - well, it's enough to take a gal's breath awake on a cold and bitter November day ;) I like ;)

The last three weekends we have been gifted with bright blue skies and views of the sun that would shame a summer's day in Ireland. The cold would bite the nose off you but layers of wool and soft cottons defy the wicked chill and once wellies are on, it's only a matter of minutes kicking through ankle deep layers of crispy, crinkling leaves before the warmth is back in the heart and defiance of life's hardships back in the soul. The Holly dog loves it, and her nose is well buried where newly fallen leaves meet rotting humus. What she hopes to find under all those layers I can only imagine, but the sense of joy that is conveyed by the constant wagging of golden cocker spaniel tail is testament to the joy of the woods and all that it brings her. She first came to us as a puppy in a late October, and I like to think that this is her true time of the year, and her golden coat blends well with the golden carpet that covers the woodland floor.

This one is a teaser - can you spot the Holly dog?

Other than walking the woods in our spare time, it's been pretty quiet on the Holly Cottage garden front. The first fine sunny day we had we emptied the greenhouse of collapsing tomato and cucumber plants, grow bags and all! Then it was time for washing - sudsy water to rid the plastic of the veneer of algae that had built up over summer. The job was painless and kind of therapeutic in some ways. We were reminded of the sweet cucumbers and the cherry delights that we feasted on since July, but resolve was strengthened to do a better job next year....whatever that will bring. In our autumn clean we did encounter the odd brazen slug who was hoping for a mild winter ride under a frost free ledge. Seriously, is there no end to their slug terror? In other news, all the carrots are up, a few sad turnips are left in the ground, beetroot is all harvested and a bounty of parsnips remain in the ground for the winter oven. Speaking of which...

Tonight's creation is oven baked sausages with roasted onions, potatoes and parsnips - you said it, yum ;) Cut spuds and parsnips into wedges, onions cut head to toe. Drizzle with oil, add a sprinkle of fennel and cumin seeds and some fresh thyme. Into the oven at 200deg for 30mins. Then add your favourite sausages - meat or veggie. Roast for another 20mins, let it sit for a few minutes out of the oven - if you can - and then enjoy immensely ;) It's a recipe from the captain of the River Cottage ship, Hugh Fearnley-Whittingstall....oh so tasty.  Check out the following link, and enjoy!
http://www.guardian.co.uk/lifeandstyle/2012/feb/24/sausage-recipes-hugh-fearnley-whittingstall

River Cottage pic..the Holly Cottage pic wasn't taken quick enough ;)