Day dreaming

After yesterday's brush with Zenwork and the anti-Zencats I have returned to some semblance of normality. I am however determined to reduce the clutter, the dust (this is going to be challenging with the house alterations) and to feel more a peace with myself and my home. Wish me luck!

I have this image in my head that keeps slipping in when I least expect it. It fills my mind with a glorious blue and  instantly transports me back to our summer escape - to a wonderful turquoise coloured island. Gigha.

I almost don't want share the name of the island - just in case you discover it too! A twenty minute ferry ride from Kintyre and we were a world away from everything. The colours just flowed over me and I tried to eat it all with my eyes - absorbing and photographing as we walked along. It is a small, nay, tiny island  at 7 miles long by 1 1/2 miles wide. Bought by the islanders in 2002 from private landlords, the island is a cheerful example of people doing it for themselves.

We walked along the little lanes and discovered gorgeous secret coves and beaches. The wild flowers were glorious - the island is protected by landmasses from both sides and has a micro-climate of it's own.

Tucked away are snippets of history going back not just hundreds but thousands of years and we delighted in finding ruined churches and standing stones.

And - even in the rain I fell in love with it's charm and simplicity.

Guess where we're going back to next summer.....................

In which I waffle (a lot)

After the 'hurry up's and the 'get on's and the dashing about for the school run, I am home with just the radio, washing machine and two cats for company. The radio is a shade too loud but my mug of tea keeps me here.

A glance outside confirms that the weather hasn't improved since I sprinted from the car to the house. A menacing bruise-coloured cloud is still hanging just behind the wind-whipped trees. The seasons are moving on and our sporadic and brief summer seems to have slipped quietly out the back door while autumn has stormed in and taken centre stage.

It has been a funny year. In a not funny way.

I don't personally feel to achieved much. Surprisingly a number of friends and colleagues I have chatted to feel the same way. Hmmm - is just co-incidence or a weather induced melancholy or the world downturn? Who knows.

I couldn't bear it any longer - I had to turn the radio down to a less invasive level. An annoyingly condescending man was spouting on about aggressive take-over bids and how this would shake up the economy.
It went something like this - BLAH BLAH BLAH BLAH  BLAH BLAH BLAH (ad infinitum)  blah blah blah blah..... That is better.

I am knitting again, at least this weather does bring out the crafter in me, I have almost finished the tea cosy I was making to learn how to decrease.....forgotten what type of decrease it was, my Mom did tell me! oops :)

I am also trying something else out - will show later.

I have just read back what I have written and realise what a waffling non-interesting post this is turning out to be. Will try harder.

I will share with you (coz it will make me feel better) some of our holiday. We had started off with a wonderful 8 days in Northumberland. The weather, although not non-stop sunshine, was enough to give us freckles and a warm honey-coloured glow. Then suddenly at the end of the week, rain and a change in the atmosphere on the campsite made us wonder whether to move on and discover a new delight for ourselves. Our personal idea of camping heaven is a field filled with nothing but wild flowers, trees and us.

I have to admit to not wanting to share our holiday freedom and space with other campers who prefer noisy and jolly party type get-aways. They obviously enjoy their time and I am fine with that, what I don't appreciate is when their holiday invades mine. As we paid up and left to explore further, the campsite owner apologised for the antics of the apparently unbooked and unexpected jolly camping party - I felt sorry for him, he was about to ask them to leave and he was only a little bloke.

We travelled up towards Edinburgh then across to Glasgow. As we drove through the rain sodden countryside the skies began to lighten as did our moods. It was like a whole new holiday.

After negotiating the busy roads of Glasgow and crossing the Erskine Bridge, Himself and I consulted a rather old map and discussed the route. We were about to come to a large spit of land - with lochs either side and the road split at the bottom and joined again at the top. Looking at the map (printed in the early 1980s) both roads were given equal status in size and quality. So we plumped for the one on the left, my reasoning it was nearer the sea and our destination and just because I rather fancied it......oops.


 The *wonderfully*winding*narrow*road was tacked lightly against the sheer cliff edge just above the dark and choppy loch waters. Himself gritted his teeth and clenched his hands till his knuckles went white as he drove us along a single width road whilst towing the caravan....... oops again.

I kept up a hopefully cheerful and happy commentary about the view and the fact the sun was shining and we were going up a lovely part of the countryside yadda yadda yadda and the boys did the same only theirs was interjected with -
Holy COW - have you seen the drop!
..and............ Wowser Dad - that was CLOSE!!!!
.......and.............
This is EX-CI-TING Dad can we do it again!?!?!? -

 and.........this is JUST LIKE a ROLLER COASTER!!!

(Gee thanks boys for the support and help)

Any hoo, after a rather steep downhill (cue hot brake smell)  then an equally steep climb (cue hot engine smell) I spotted a picnic stop which Himself quite happily pulled into. It was nearly 5pm and we were all starving so I turned the caravan into a chuck-wagon, Himself consulted his maps, the boys claimed a picnic bench and the dog rolled around in glee on the grass.

We sat and ate looking over Gare Loch and all the excitement and tension of the drive began to fade. In a mile or two we would be joining back onto the main road up at Garelochheid and we could carry on in a less 'fly by the seat of your pants' fashion. Phew.

On our return journey, after our holiday - we chose NOT to do this road, preferring the other one on the map which was a wide many-laned thing. Easier to drive but far far less fun and adventurous.

But life is like that - choose the unknown path and take what comes or choose the well trodden path and find nothing new.....................

Oh and another thing....

I am procrastinating.
If I have to do it, if it needs doing, it remains undone as I am distracted by things frivolous and unimportant.

It is damp and grey outside and I need to get the washing done.... so I light the fire to warm the house and to warm me,  but still avoid collecting up the washing.

Instead I hold the cat, look out of the window, stand by a crackling fire, blog.

If those were on my have-to-do list, I'd probably avoid them too.   Mind you, the cat is in the mood for being held and would just climb up my leg and settle herself on my shoulder regardless of what I was doing.

I am distracted by the thought that this year is almost through and I feel to have achieved very little.

I must check my list but walk determinedly passed it as I know for every one thing I cross off with a flourish, two or three more items need to be added.


So I cheer myself up with the thought of a mug of tea and fondly look at some holiday photos.

Ooh ho! Better already -besides it's Friday today and that means the weekend is almost here! Woo hoo :)

And you?

What's on your list you are actively avoiding?
The housework?
Homework?
Dusting?
Writing a letter or email?
Spill the beans, feel guilty and then go and do it!!
Have a lovely weekend

blessings  hawthorn xxxxxxxx

What was that?

Blink.

Sorry? What was that? Well that was summer -our summer and in that moment we managed to squeeze in three weeks of delicious family holiday.

We wild swam in Northumbrian rivers, body-boarded in the seas, celebrated birthdays on the beach, watched the sun go down over the Cheviot hills and over Jura.

We visited ancient stones and castles, Played in the rain and in the sun, beach combed and rock pool dabbled. What a brilliant time - holidays are like a brief romance - intense exciting and fantasy.

Excuse me while I wash out the salt from my hair

For a few short blissful weeks I turned feral.

I lived alongside a rocky highland shore where there were more seals than sunbathers.
It was cathartic.
It was healing and it was wonderful.

I spent quality time with my boys - I watched two of them grow and mature into sun-kissed, tousle haired young men with freckles on their noses. Himself and I both calmed down and left our work-stresses behind, found time to talk and more importantly - time to just sit in companionable silence.

We both breathed.

Deeply.

Now we have returned. The holiday washing is - how can I put it...... bordering on solar eclipse level. Not that we were that grubby I hasten to add! No, it's salt crusty jeans and sandy socks. It is bracken scented jerseys and river wet towels and swimming costumes. Wet suits hang out dripping, bodyboards are stacked up waiting to be put away till next year (oh what a depressing thought) and beach-combed treasures lie in bags awaiting rediscovery and placing somewhere special.

Despite all our yearnings to return to our island feral dreams we have returned to normality and our cats. Who are delighted to see us and as I type, Pan is sitting on my knee and purring her little heart out and kneading with pinsharp claws - bless.

I am back.

I will return.

But I need to hang the washing out first............

Isn't she beautiful?






















Who needs false eyelashes with gorgeous ones like these?

She, and the rest of her herd, are white galloways - once on the brink of extinction, now through a few dedicated breeders, are now gaining popularity.

Bovine teddy bears!

Especially love this one, with the half chewed grass hanging from her mouth.

All wrapped up

Yesterday, I mentioned about the Spring-fling arts festival we'd happened upon. Another delightful installation had my heart singing out with love. Not only was it based on my favourite little cottage (in-the-world!!) but it was gift wrapped and we discovered it on my birthday.

This wonderful wonderful wonderful cottage was called 'COUCH' and had been covered in stretchy sofa material - apparently it had taken 3 months to make. It fitted like a dream with the corners being joined by zips and the chimney being completely covered - each brickwork lump and bump fitted and dressed in the fabric. I could have cried for the love of it.

I walked around and around. Took so many photos and stroked the house. We chatted to the installation artist - Alice Francis who was dressed in the same fabric too!

One day - I will live here, till then I will just have to look at these photos and dream!

Inspiration

A couple of weeks ago we happened upon , whilst on holiday, an event call the Spring-fling, which occurs during the first week of June and celebrates arts and crafts in Galloway. We wandered around artist's workshops and homes and came away enthralled, delighted and inspired.

Youngest was so inspired by one exhibit that he actually created a smaller version to suit a homework topic.

We had wandered into a willow workshop and fell in love with all the creativity and joy the willow sculptures exuded. Outside was a quirky sprite-like figure happily 'juggling' pink wellington boots and a mystical woodland lady with huge swirling skirts.

The door way to the workshop was as equally quirky and inviting

And inside, the space was dominated by a huge willow tree

The boys were fascinated, both decreeing they wanted one in our house too, I agreed and Himself, although raising his eyebrows as the silliness of the thought, probably would love it too.

What Himself did like was the huge mermaid in a shell (although at the time we thought it was a coracle - it was only afterwards when we looked at the photos we could see it was a shell)

Suitably sated and inspired that when we came home from our holiday,  Youngest started his homework with enthusiasm.

The topic was to create a sculpture or some form of artwork to reflect the positivity of life and the environment and he immediately set about planning a tree like the one we saw at the willow workshop.

We all marched off to the local beck and fought our way through a swathe of nettles and brambles to help collect some willow for him, which he painstakingly wove and wound until he had a tree shape.

He then wrote a list of positive words down, then cut out coloured leaves - writing down the words he'd found on each leaf. These were then tied on the tree. He wound barbed wire at the base to represent evil and gave the tree a tree post - naming it 'strength'. We were amazed at his creativity and I am kicking myself at not getting a final picture of his tree - which is now at school. He carefully/triumphantly carried his tree in this morning with such a grin on his face - bless him!

Breathing

*Warning - this posting contains excessive amounts of photos!*

While we were away, Himself asked me if there was something specific I wanted to do on my birthday. Oh yes there was. For two years I have dwelt upon a walk we'd done before and yearned to do it again. It encapsulated all that I love about a coastal holiday. Ragged cliffs and screeching gulls. Sunny rolling hills and secret dark green valleys. Beach combing on sandy stretches and rock pooling in tiny tiny sparkling oceans filled with mini-beasts, pebbles and seaweed. I really really wanted to do this soul-satisfying walk again.

The first part of 'my' walk took us through dark cool rhododendrons dripping in sweetly scented purple and pink blooms. Every now and then a break in the densely packed foliage gave us flashes of sunshine and glimpses of the sea.

I love the way Heston island sits in the bay - Himself told me that during low tide you can walk to the island and we could just make out that it was covered in grazing sheep.

Suddenly we escaped the dark cavern-like path and burst out onto high craggy cliffs. I love this next part, lichen covered rock with sea-thrift hanging on precariously to non-existent ledges. Their papery pink heads bobbing in a delicious lightly salted breeze. We found ourselves a large enough ledge for lunch and sat and just absorbed the view.

It was a wonderful euphoric feeling high up with the wheeling gulls. 

 We were the only ones out on the narrow pathway that led us through sea-thrift and foxgloves.

Suddenly this airy path drops down to the sea to a pebbly beach - a beach combers delight. Sun bleached, sea washed wood litters the way. The occasional bright Wellington boot or fisherman's glove added a bright splash of man-made colour.

There is something about coastal light the lifts my soul.

The boys delighted in hunting for treasure and to see them enjoying themselves so much gave my heart such a happy squeeze.

At the end of this beach, a small hamlet of wooden houses nestles in the lee of a  protective forest.  Some are holiday escapes and others, well we think are occupied as homes and on a day like today, a hot and sunny afternoon - what a wonderful retreat, but in winter wet, I am sure it would be wild and cut off.

We followed the path around the forest and then turned into its dark and cool interior. I was surprised to see that there were still carpets of bluebells. Only just beginning to fade but the air still filled with their delicate scent. We emerged from the cool forest into early evening air to find a lochen surrounded by wild flowers, wild looking ponies and swallows.

Try as I might I could not capture the swift darting movement of the birds as they swooped low over the water to catch insects.

We lingered a while, watching and enjoying then set off to return to the car. I was feeling really satisfied by 'my birthday' walk but was not prepared to 'give it up' just yet, so asked Himself if we could drive a little way down the coast and park up and have a tea and watch the tide turn.

While we were sitting on the rocks, drinking tea and finishing off the remains of our picnic lunch, something caught my eye......  

The sheep that had been grazing on Heston island were being herded back towards the mainland. We sat and watched, amazed as four modern day horse-powered shepherds brought back their flock across the wet sands just ahead of the returning tides.

It took them a long time to cross the sands and as they drew closer you could just make out the sounds that sandy wet hoof steps make. There was the occasional shout to the dogs but on the whole it was a quiet event unfolding in front of our eyes. One of the outriders, once they had almost reached the shores, cantered ahead and open the gates to the coastal field. Then in a well oiled operation, the sheep returned to mainland and began to graze as if nothing had happened.

What a wonderful way to end a wonderful walk - it made it a perfect gift and it made me so very hap-hap-happy.

*happy sigh*

PS told you there were lots of pictures!

Cake - oh for some cake!

 Some time during the spring break I may have accidently had another birthday - I am still on the record as being '21 again' but I could not see the day pass without at least sampling a cake or two...... And ooh talk about YUMBLEDOCIOUS MAXIMUM!!

Youngest was in charge of the camera and must have taken a photo of every cake in the cafe -

I had the most heavenly carrot cake - it was gorgeously succulent and spiced ever so lightly. The cream topping was gorgeous and I would have (if allowed) licked the plate clean......

Himself had a plum and fig hot pudding swimming in a toffee sauce with a  huge lump of extra thick cream for good measure (you can just feel the calories can't you!!)

While the boys plumped (no pun intended) for rose scented cheesecake with a strawberry covered rose leaf jelly on a vanilla cake base

And all this calorifically wonderous stuff was washed down with copious amounts of tea served from a silver teapot and sweetened by rose decorated teacups and sugar lumps - a treat we have had before - we love Kitty's Cafe in New Galloway.