Deadheading

One of my favourite occupations is deadheading flowers in the garden and seeing all the new growth beneath. It always gives me hope and connects me to a lifetime of being in the garden.

Part of deadheading in December is having red-breasted robins for company and being able to see birds on the bare branches.

I often think that we, as people, could probably do with some deadheading betimes to ensure that we are able to thrive and realise our potential.

I’ve been pondering what such deadheading might look like and have come to the conclusion that it may well be as simple as the short spells in the garden or even a passing pinch of a single old viola bloom as I head out the gate. So, here’s a few examples of human deadheading that work for me:

#1. Going for a brisk walk, preferably by the sea or along a riverbank;

#2. Soaking in a warm bath;

#3. Getting carried away by a beautifully shot film;

#4. Dancing madly around the kitchen to old fashioned Rock n’ Roll;

#5. Seeing swans in full flight

#6. Sharing a laugh that feels like it will never end;

#7. Glimpsing a rainbow;

#8. Feasting on the horizon at sunrise;

#9. Sharing a passion fruit;

#10. Running into the arms of a loved one.

What would top your list?

The Key of Christmas

Looking Seaward from The Pier, Tramore, Co. Waterford
Looking Seaward from The Pier, Tramore, Co. Waterford

Christmas Day is drawing to a close here in Ireland and I would like to take this opportunity to thank you all for your kindness and support all year. Even though I have only ever met a few of my readers in person, I feel that I know many of you as ‘friends’ through our connection here in blogland.

You might wonder about the photograph I’ve chosen for today. It’s one of my anchors in my beloved Tramore and here’s a photograph that Dad took of me sitting on it when I was three or four:

Anchored at the Pier Photo: Frank Tubridy
Anchored at the Pier
Photo: Frank Tubridy

I ended up pulling out these photographs as a result of reading these lines from Waterford-born poet, Sean Dunne:

Or will the key of Christmas flick

the lock free and let me sail

at last across the threshold?

The key of Christmas, as I see it, is a mingling of love, encouragement, empathy and belief. I feel that everyone needs these in their lives so that they can realise their potential and dreams.

My wish for everyone here in blogland is that the key of Christmas will flick for you and that together we can sail across thresholds that matter to us.

Sweet Dreams, dear Friends!