Sloth and Torpor Abounds.

Rain, rain, rain...

The country has been awash. Literally. And being so close to the sea is often cause for worry as the winter months close in. We have had the sea in around the house on three occasions in the past, but so far this year we have been okay.

But the rain... oh...

So, naturally we are indoors most of the time, and while this provides plenty of opportunity to be creative, it doesn't help with the likes of mundane things like laundry! Six people in a household engenders a significant amount, believe me, and so drying has been on my mind all week.

But the creative juices still flowed, and we were even surprised by a little peek of sunshine on occasion.

And as my 'just because' roses began to fade, (I think I love roses best as they begin to fade...) and everyone settled in to that winter feeling of pottering and musing about what to do with ourselves as the dark days creep upon us, there was a definite edge of sloth and torpor to us all. A kind of hibernating sloth and torpor. Like we need to slow down to just pottering and musing and eating for the next few months.

What a nice thought!

And I've no doubt our fingers will be kept busy, and the stacks of books will be read, and all those Christmas plans will come to fruition.

But I'll need to keep myself on my toes, because I have a feeling Christmas is closer than I think...!

Put The Lights On The Tree.

A few weeks back the lovely Cliona rang me up and asked could she use our field for a photo shoot (check out her work here). We were delighted to oblige. We love having our house invaded by hordes (really!) and it's always exciting to have something like this to distract us on a blustery, cold, wet day in the middle of the mid-term break.

I'm always amazed at how much hard work goes into something like this. The team of people involved, the organisation, the unforeseen hiccups.

The day began with the delivery of a sweet 1970's caravan, all the way from Kerry, no less, which was then deposited not in the right place. I'm sure it was a sight to see three women trying to manoeuvre (maneuver) it round a windswept field. But we did it!

The kids were bemused by the Christmas decorations and lights that went up on it, especially as it was only a few days to Halloween!

And fair play to the crew who were there, standing around for hours in the cold and rain.

For the most part we remained inside, out of the weather. I don't know how they do it. It was quite surreal at times!

As the evening train rolled by, preparing to stop at the station at the end of the lane, I have no doubt the passengers were rolling their eyes at the bedecked little caravan, in a field by the sea, in October...

Whatever next?

But for any of you that are in Ireland, you'll be seeing Cliona's wonderful photo of it around the place as part of the Christmas ad campaign of a certain phone company!

Now I'd happily keep that sweet little caravan, lights and all, if I could. I think it would make a gorgeous studio, wouldn't it?

After The Rain We Took A Lonely Walk.

In the grey,

a winter's day,

the quiet sound of our footsteps

on wet.

Up the lane.

And the stark lonely trees,

cut out against the clouds,

loom like desolate, friendless wraiths.

And the fields so quiet.

The skies a strange, empty hush.

And then, in the distance we see a herd of twenty horses
at full gallop,
their riders lying against their backs it seemed,
as though listening to their heartbeats.

Flying through the fields. Flying!

And my heart beats. My heart beats.

Wins out over the quiet fields, beyond the oppressing gloom,
and above the unnatural silence that rings in the air.

And there it is,
what we were missing.

Something like the breath of the forest,
the breathing trees.

A murmur in our ear, whispered close against our skin.

And so, together we walk on,
a faint brightness clinging to the light on the trees ahead.

He Has Fallen In The Forest...

A pall of sadness hangs over us.

We have lost someone dear to us,

and our hearts are broken.

Our hearts are broken...


~*~

Please, forgive the quiet here for the next few days.

Some Small Quiet Things.

So, the last few days have been quiet, and this has allowed us to find a bit more time to sit around and occupy our hands with small things.

For me this has been an opportunity to catch up on some needlework which was abandoned back at the beginning of the summer! And although I tend to get these made in my car while waiting for the school bell to ring, a stitch here, a stitch there, I hadn't really got back into it yet so this was exactly what I needed.

It's a work in progress as you can see, and for those of you who are new here you can have a look here to see previous ones I've made. Not nearly as many as I'd like to of course, but it's slowly adding up.

There's something about lighting the fire that inspires me to just fall back into the couch and not budge for the evening, my thought's wandering as these miniature spectacles are conjured beneath my fingers, almost with a life of their own, and I merely their medium.

And each time I start a new one I wonder to what little world I shall be taken?

And as the little voices whisper, guiding my stitches in tiny increments, like footprints in my hazy childhood memory, as they tell their story, I wonder and marvel at the muse that is my children.

And I feel blessed.

For when I have an Alice moment, and I pause in my busy day, and I creep down onto bended knee to peer and listen at the tiny doors my children hold, I remember I am blessed. To have these little keyholes to a world that I can no longer truly live in, a means to steal a secret peep, to breathe it in and for the briefest moment really feel it again.

Where The Ailing Small Family Reside.

Three days, of gloom and cold.

Yesterday I stood at my window and all day there were rainbows kissing the hills between rain clouds.

And each day began with the hope that everyone was well,

and each day someone wasn't.

It seems our long-overdue turn of a flailing household is upon us.

But as always, a point is reached where we are able to stop hoping and accept it and in some ways embrace it,

because a rest is welcome, even when forced upon us.

And so we'll continue the theme of quiet, low-lying days of snuffles and coughs,
and relish the fact that it's Friday and we can be guilt free about staying home.

And hopefully the weekend proves the tonic we need for booting the last of the malaise from our home,
and I have happy, healthy things to blog about next week!

Happy Friday!

A Heartfelt Thank You!

Wow!

First of all I am completely blown away by being a Blog Of Note! I really had no idea of the significance of this until my stats started going through the roof, and my lovely little Followers window began to multiply, and more and more comments and emails began to flood in.

So, I'd like to say Cead Mile Failte to you one and all!

In other words, Welcome.

Pumpkin's from Judith's garden a couple of weeks back.

I cannot express how touched I am by all the positive and sweet words I have been receiving for the last twenty~four hours on so many different posts. And I do hope some of you return here to Milkmoon from time to time and say hi. You have all been most welcome.

And I'd also like to say a big thank you as well to all my regular readers who keep coming back for more, and who keep me blogging even when life threatens to overtake me in chaos. And if I could be so bold as to single out three in particular who have been with me since the beginning, more or less: Lisa from What We Eat, Esti from Pintame el dia, and my recent fellow Blogger Of Note, Rima from  The Hermitage.

Thanks ladies, for without you...

So a short post it is, but I am a little lost for words for once, and I promise normal blogging will resume tomorrow.

And as I said in the comments: Nothing like the spotlight to make you polish off what's been a teensy bit neglected lately! So I have my blogger hat on at a jaunty angle, and my socks pulled up.

MilkmoonMama is back on full time duty!