Across the Irish Sea

 This ferry lark is all a bit new to me.

Ok I’ve enjoyed the Manley Ferry in Sydney and years ago I was drenched and frozen on the Seattle ferry over Puget Sound but I’ve never taken my car on one of the new Ferries who boast everything all singing and all dancing.

I’ve yet to find the calming hygge lounge but the public rooms seem spacious and well designed and I love the sound proof boxes set aside for small children to run amok in. 

Every home should have one

The skies were somewhat bleak in Holyhead when I got to the ferry , but boarding was painless enough.

I probably won’t have time to blog again, until tomorrow. 

It should take four hours to drive down to Kenmare and this, my second trip , I am very much looking forward to. 

My first trip was four years ago, and was organised by Nu as a diversion after my husband left me. 

I can’t remember much of the trip except the quietness of her cottage and the beauty of Kenmare. 

I was very bruised and battered emotionally and all I needed then was her quiet company and a bit of sun on my face.

I am a third of the way across the Irish Sea and the sun has just come out as I type, a good omen me thinks .

Tonight I will join Nu and her hubby Jim and her extended family for dinner. I’ve known many of them for as long as I’ve known her , so I’m prepared for the noise.

Tomorrow I will explore Kenmare again before Nu’s party tomorrow evening

The party will be craic as many of Nu’s Liverpudlian/ Irish friends will be there 

They are exhausting and  energising all in the same breath and loudly refer to me as Jonney Gray! Or by my old and somewhat perplexing nickname of cheese and chives ( this is far too long to explain) 

I love them dearly 

I shall also be meeting up with an old friend from ITU and her husband who was a consultant there who have retired only a few miles from Kenmare. I put them in touch with Nu a while ago and they will be coming to the party too..

It’s a small world.

A Little Adventure

 Tomorrow I’m embarking on a little adventure

I’m catching the ferry to Ireland for the weekend. 

Not only that , but I am driving Bluebell 350 miles to Kenmare in County Kerry to meet with Nu and her family and friends at her yearly party there. 

I’ve booked myself into a lovely farm Airbnb just outside the town where, I’m told scones and jam will be waiting.

I’m a little nervous as it’s a new experience for me 

Toilet Training

 Roger has had a good day 

Four pees outside 

And a solid hour watching Eastenders and the start of Repair Shop

Pompous

 Like some people who have their insecurities I can be pompous at times.

My mother would occasionally sneer and say You love the sound of your own voice, you do.

Something, ironically that would increase my insecurities as a child.

I was in the supermarket this morning and passed one of the staff, in an aisle. 

She was a smiley, attractive middle aged woman.

She caught my eye and chirped “ You’re from Sheffield arnt you?”

I preened a bit and laughed “ Do you remember me ?”I said, thinking she must have a good memory of me or perhaps she was a blog reader who suddenly recognised me 

We stood looking at each other , smiling for a second 

Then she pointed at my T-shirt 

Before walking off

My Laburnum

 

When I remember, I go over to the churchyard with a watering can to give “my” laburnum a good soak

I’m too lazy to walk up the lane and up to the Lych gate, so I climb up the field gate, and stand on the gate post then crawl over the top of the wall, pushing the watering can in front of me.

It’s not dignified but it’s quicker.

I always fill the rabbit drinker first, then water my tree which is doing well 

As I finished I heard a voice say something I didn’t catch and I turned to see two women walkers sitting on the bench outside the Church. 

They were eating a picnic.

“ I’m sorry ? “ I said 

It was the older woman that spoke and she asked if the tree was a memorial to a relative.

I told her that it wasn’t but had been a replacement for a giant laburnum which had been blown over a few years ago

“ And you water it regularly ? “ she asked

“I feel responsible for it” I replied 

The woman, as it turned out was a Lecturer in History in Dundee University and was completing the pilgrim way across the a north Wales Coast. They were on the last leg of their journey to Holywell which is around 7 miles to the East.

She seemed well versed in everything

“ In folklore Dreaming of laburnum blooms is a prediction that you will overcome adversity through rigorous effort” the woman told me “ But never give the blooms as a gift” she added 

“ I know they are poisonous “ I replied 

“No the message in the giving is that the recipient is forsaken “ she replied

Bowl

 

My sister Janet has made Roger a glazed food bowl at pottery and dropped it off this afternoon when I was snoozing before nights. 

It’s rather handsome

I won’t show the reading glasses thoughtfully delivered by Amazon roughly at the same time as they are tiny and make me look like a caricature of a Japanese WW2 soldier.

I’m watching Hitchcock’s Lifeboat with a bucket of coffee before nights

Chasing Bees

 

It’s been an ordinary day here in Trelawnyd so far.

No big shakes.

No excitement .

I’ve planned not to be too far from a loo today, so after a walk this morning.

I’ve been reading People Person by Candice Carty-Williams on the trendy blue sofa, which catches the morning sun and acts as a border to the windowsill plants clustered with their leaves and stems in the warm light.

Sundays are often like this now.

Quiet

Sun filled.

The dogs are in the kitchen where they have access to the garden. 

Roger is not housetrained and only after outdoor wees is allowed into the rest of the cottage

I can hear him galloping around the kitchen table before bouncing onto the patio and up the garden path.

He’s been busy at this for a while now.

Intrigued, I put my book down and walk through the cottage. Mary and Dorothy are asleep in the reading chair. Albert is on the window sill looking out into the garden.

And Roger? 

Well Roger is gleefully bouncing up and down the path 

Chasing Bees away from the flower tops 

I was reminded of this post from a few years ago now

https://disasterfilm.blogspot.com/2018/12/sweet-william.html

Village Business

 I have been a member of the Trelawnyd Community Association for a few years now, but my involvement has been limited due to the fact I have worked full time and worked shifts. 

Going part time, was originally designed for me to start  my counselling course, but just as nature abhors a vacuum a few village bases projects need a pair of hands and I’ve been conscripted back into the fold so to speak. 

This lunchtime I went to a TCA meeting and said my piece on a pressing matter. 

It’s a nice group all told , perhaps a good dozen and a half people with the community’s well being at heart. 

I’m working on a web page relating to the historic well that used to stand on Well Street ( duh) and have taken photographs today of the newly refurbished pond which lies next to its site. 

The velvet Voiced Linda and I are helping to organise an open evening for the pond so that the village can learn of its existence and and perhaps help contribute to its aquatic planting costs

Ma Manly was at the meeting, she has glorious long white hair which twirled around her head in the breeze like a demon as we talked in the street. She is another of the amateur village historians, much more talented than I in unearthing information of note about Trelawnyd . I asked if she would contribute to my history blog and offered her free rein to the website to do so. 

Her daughter , Kelda runs the folk nights in the Hall.

I photographed the pond and the well  then went to Linda & Nick’s cottage for coffee and scones ( with jam) with some of the others where we gossiped for a while.

This part of community life is nice . 

It’s not always so peaceful , as any minor village politician will tell you, 

But it’s home .