In loving memory of all those who were killed, injured or forever impacted by the horrific attack 20 years ago. And a special thought for all those of Irish ancestry who were among them.
It is Dad’s 11th anniversary today and that meant heading out to celebrate his life in that lovely Garden of Eden that is Mount Congreve here in Co. Waterford.
It was as if he was with me as I walked around the magnificent formal garden and woodland areas.
Mount Congreve was special to him and is beyond precious to me.
There was just so much that had me thinking of him and I kept veering from the beauty of the recently fallen:
to looking skyward:
But most of all, it was the vivid colours that enthralled me and made me think of his love of nature’s blazing beauty:
There is just so much to life, irrespective of its fragility and the butterflies had me utterly captivated:
Dad adored waterlilies so they called out to be included:
And, he loved me, just as I loved him. I was never his greatest model when he was behind the camera but this one is especially to make him smile:
It is very hard to believe that the teeny weeny cygnets of just a little while ago have become all grown up and are even showing a bit of white.
I could have spent the day just watching them and I get the feeling that they know how much they mean to me.
Here’s how they were looking this morning:
And, remember there was a time when they were like this:
Ireland has seen the growth of a wide variety of coffee haunts in recent years.
There was a time when it was almost impossible to get what I call proper coffee but now we are spoilt for choice and the names of the coffee places are great too.
The Happy Grind is my favourite name at present but I am always on the look out for competitors. Are there any interestingly named coffee places in your life?
I am still on my hat-knitting fad and have been very surprised by the way in which my awareness of colour has become very much enhanced by the whole thing.
If I am knitting with lilac yarn, I seem to see lilac colours all around me in nature, not so much in non-natural settings.
My latest creation is multicoloured, as you can see:
While working on it, I kept seeing similar types of combinations out on my travels. This is one example:
And, I can’t resist yet another fairy door:
Yes, call me a mad hatter, if you want!
Undoubtedly my favourite book as a child was one which Mother passed on to us. It had an off-white hardback cover and the heroine was called Roberta. She was the ultimate tomboy, just like me, and would only answer to Bobby.
The fairy door out the Anne Valley, with ‘Bobby’ on it always makes me think of the umpteen times I read that book and longed to be called Bobby. I had notions of calling a baby girl, if I ever had one, Bobby and certainly not Roberta. I wonder how that would have gone down!
The book is still with me but so well stashed away that I can’t quite remember where.
I’d love to meet the Bobby of the door creation. I imagine she has short curly fair hair, freckles and is wearing shorts, sandals and a raggedy T-Shirt in this weather. No doubt, she has a big dog and is part of a gang of young lads who admire her courage, daring and wild achievements.
Love is like wildflowers; It’s often found in the most unlikely places.Ralph Waldo Emerson
I just want to apologise for my suspended animation in recent times. I feel like I have been absolutely unresponsive and silent in relation to replying to comments, reading posts and writing posts.
Strange how this blogging thing is all about momentum and one can so easily get into the ‘what’s another day …’ frame of mind.
All is good here and I hope with you too. We are at a bit of a Covid blockage in terms of reopening because of the rise of the Delta variant but Tramore is buzzing as people yearn to be by the sea.
I have been thinking a lot about you all, in spite of my silence, and it is fascinating how different bloggers pop into my mind depending on the circumstances.
Needless to say, Wimbledon, The Euros and Gaelic games are keeping me on my toes. Wimbledon beats them all, as always as tennis is so etched in my heart.
I truly hope you are feeling upbeat and I send lots of splashy hugs from Ireland’s sunny south east.
A recent visit to the swan family revealed that one of the four cygnets was missing. I knew in my heart that the rest of the family would not have just left it but still lived in hope that maybe a miracle might happen. Alas, no, and the family is now reduced to three cygnets being very closely guarded by their ever devoted and vigilant parents:
Yesterday, it seemed like the parents were having a tete-a-tete as their babies waited patiently.
The scene had me thinking about the laws of the jungle and about the otters I have been seeing in the general vicinity of the swans. Maybe I am being harsh on the otters but I couldn’t but wonder at their size, power and speed.
The swan family with the three youngsters reminds me of our family all those years ago.
I am an absolute expert at dividing by 5 and by 3, as I have two sibs. Mother used to let us divide goodies from a very young age and then say: Which piece would you like? I fell for her question for years, always pointing to the biggest piece or the one with the extra strawberry on top. She would insist that I give that to one of the others.
Strange how the mind wanders off and finds its way to places that haven’t surfaced either ever before or for ages.
May the swan family stay safe and well and as beautiful as ever. I wonder how they are coping with their loss.