Grannymar

I wrapped her in a tablecloth and took her out to play

Not quite to play but rather, to put her on display!

There are days that mark our life and this one was her first,

The family all gathered as we took her into church.

We called her for her grannies, with a little variation

And so it was that she was known until her own abbreviation!

The tablecloth it was not plain and made with loving care

By a granny that she never knew, no longer round to share.

The tablecloth was crocheted in cotton years before

It spent near half a life time, lying in a drawer.

Now freshly washed and smelling sweet it was a perfect square

And it looked just right, on our wee mite, as we took her through the door.

A bright June morning the sun was high with singing in the choir

Our hearts near burst with happiness, with our darling hearts desire.

Then she grew up!

This is the tablecloth that I used as a shawl.

Once I decided to use the tablecloth for a shawl I set about finding a pattern to crochet a dress for my little bundle of joy.  I did not want a dress a mile longer than my 18inch baby so adapted a pattern for a woolen dress.

Elly just four weeks old in the only photo I have of her taken on the day.

Our photographer for the day didn’t make it - his car broke down and it was before the days of digital cameras.  I came across the outfit while clearing a drawer last week and gave it a wash.  It is amazingly white even after all this time.  To show it off properly I went in search of a baby sized doll.  Not a difficult task you would think.

The first doll I borrowed was from a school pal of Elly’s and was the correct size and vintage.  There was only one problem… the eyes were damaged and the young ladies father had replaced them with marbles.  All the photos I took made them look like cats eyes!  No way could I use a full face so I cropped the photos accordingly.

The pattern I worked from also had a pair of pants:

The pants may look bulky but not with a nappy on under them.

One day while out I saw a new baby goods shop and called in to see if they had a doll for display puropses.  No they didn’t but the assistant promised to bring her daughters doll in the following day.  It was a little smaller than the original one but I managed to take a photo.

I took this photo on the floor in the shop!

So to the girls in Rock-a-Baby who were so helpful I say thank you.

I value the friend who for me finds time on his calendar, but I cherish the friend who for me does not consult his calendar. ~ Anon

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A friendship can weather most things and thrive in thin soil; but it needs a little mulch of letters and phone calls and small, silly presents every so often - just to save it from drying out completely. ~ Pam Brown

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A friend is one who knows you and loves you just the same. ~ Elbert Hubbard

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Remember, we all stumble, every one of us. That’s why it’s a comfort to go hand in hand. ~ Emily Kimbrough

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Let us be grateful to people who make us happy, they are the charming gardeners who make our souls blossom. ~ Marcel Proust

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In everyone’s life, at some time, our inner fire goes out. It is then burst into flame by an encounter with another human being. We should all be thankful for those people who rekindle the inner spirit. ~ Albert Schweitzer

Do you share your D&Cs?

Calm down Steph, I am not talking about medical procedures since that is your area of expertise.

I am talking about these:

Debit & Credit Cards

Magpie wrote an interesting and amusing post on reasons for the banking crisis.  Among the comments Ramana left a link to a very thought provoking article from The New York Times about unpaid debts of the deceased.  It is well worth a read.

Now I wonder….

Would you pay up for fear of dear great aunt Matilda haunting you if you didn’t?

Anyone know what the up to date probate laws are in Ireland?

Ramana Rajgopaul from Ramana’s Musings, has recently taken to reading and commenting on my blog posts.  I had tip-toed through his musings on many an occasion since I discovered him at Paddy Bloggit’s.  Ramana lives in Pune, India, with his wife, son and father. A multi-generational family.

In a recent post: The Empty Nest Syndrome. Ramana spoke about how he and his wife Urmeela went through the empty nest syndrome on three separate occasions. I found this surprising since they like me, he has only one child.  I realise that in India, adult children living with parents and grand parents is still quite prevalent and family ties are very strong.

No matter where you live or how many children you have; love, energy, time, heart ache, pride, and worry all go into the caring and nurturing of each individual child. The best gift we can hope to give any child is to raise them with love and self worth, teach them to have respect both for themselves and for their fellow man, while also teaching them to stand on their own two feet independently of their parents.  If we achieve that then all the time invested is worthwhile.

It is a nice feeling to have my daughter home when she WANTS to be here and wants to spend time with me rather than because she NEEDS to be, or worse still because I NEED her to be here with me.

I commented on Ramana’s post thus:

I try not to think about empty nests.
My mother died in 1996 at the age of 82, it was ten weeks after a stroke. Since she lived over 100 miles away from me I had problems spending time with her. My husband was ill with cancer at the time. Six weeks after my mother’s death my daughter (one and only) left home for University in Scotland and her dad died a year and a half later.
My home has been quiet since then; it feels like the heart has gone out of it. My daughter visits when ever she can but she has a husband of her own now, a job and home to run. I have been known to say ‘I gave her life and not a life sentence of caring for me!’
I am not a lonely person and make the best of whatever life throws my way. With the internet and blogging the outside world comes in to me. I am so fortunate.

Ramana replied:

@Grannymar, That is a very poignant comment. I wonder if you could consider expanding your last paragraph in one of your posts. I too differentiate between loneliness and solitude. I look forward to every possible occasion when I can have some solitude. I too use the internet and blogging to connect with the outside world.

‘I am not a lonely person and make the best of whatever life throws my way. With the internet and blogging the outside world comes in to me. I am so fortunate.‘

There were four people already living in the house when I first showed my face to the world.  My father, mother and two older brothers, within two years we were six and numbers increased until we were eight in total.  Added to this was a multitude of relations that covered several generations from both sides of the family who came for rest or recuperation.  My mother was a Master Caregiver.  This care she gave to everyone without stinting or the help of my father.  He saw his role in life as the breadwinner, and once he produced the money to pay for food, clothing and household bills then he was free to rest and read.

We children provided help and there was always plenty to do.  Reading and resting were not in my lexicon back then.  With so many people in the house and visitors coming and going, it was difficult to find a quiet spot for reflection.  I often longed to have a place of my own with no interruption.

My move to Germany in the early 70’s gave me that space and I loved coming home to a quiet apartment where I could hear myself think and not fall over half a dozen pair’s of feet every time I entered a room.  I really grew during that time.  I learned to really budget with nobody to borrow from when funds were low.  We had no mobile phones or PCs then and a letter took nearly five days to reach home.  If I had a problem I had to find my own way to deal with it.  I worked with and learned from people of many different cultures, creeds and languages.

When I returned home to live in Ireland, three of my brothers were married and living in homes of their own.  The house was a little quieter and I had time to rebuild a social life and travel.  After a few years I met Jack and we married within the year.  My move to Co Antrim was not easy.  It was the height of the troubles and I was a ‘stranger’ moving into this town!  The natives were very wary of me and my southern accent. It was more difficult to make friends.  I way young and in love and made the best of my life.  I have outlived the people who were horrible to me and eventually make some friends.

My health issues of the past six years prevent me from working. There are times when I am unable to go out or feel at risk both to myself and to others driving my car, on such days the Internet and blogging are my salvation.  The world comes in to me! Blogging has allowed me to meet virtually and personally the most amazing group of diverse people of all ages & persuasions stretched across the globe.

Did you know you were good for my health?

The 28^th December is the Feast of the Holy Innocents or was when I was a child. It was one of those ‘Special Church Days’ in my father’s calendar. It commemorated the memory of those infant males killed by King Herod in an attempt to kill Jesus. Being a holyday we were obliged to attend Mass.

Fasting from midnight before Holy Communion was the norm when I was very young. This meant that we were woken from our sleep very early and ready for 6 or 7am Mass. Can you imagine the job my mother had to waken five young children (it was before my sister was born), wash the sleep from their eyes, dress them and comb their hair and have them all ready to sit in the car just when my father said he was about to leave the house? In his eyes, looking after the children was my mother’s job. She did it well.

My father had a preference for Order Churches so we attended Gardiner Street, home to the Jesuits and where my older brothers sang in the junior choir. The boys always sang during the first mass of the day. Thinking about it now brings on the internal shiver that was partly from the cold air in the large building and partly from the internal shock of being woken suddenly from sleep.

Once the mass was over we returned home for a cooked breakfast. Now hold on a minute…. This cooked breakfast was prepared by mammy and she was with us. So she had to start in to cook bacon, sausage, eggs, tomatoes and mushrooms when we arrived home. Daddy sat with the Sunday papers waiting for the food to appear on his plate.

As you can imagine we youngsters were at times fractious at the table. They were the days before central heating so we were tired, cold and hungry. Sparks flew and arguments flared easily.

On one particular morning the bickering went on at the back of the table. Daddy raised his head and complained about the arguments and asked if we thought that ‘The Holy Family’ behaved like that at the table? Mammy muttered something to him and he pushed back his chair and left the room in a hurry, his breakfast forgotten!

It was years later that we learned what she said:

‘It was easy for them, they had only one child!’

We met over the coffee urn at Creative Camp in Belfast last September and later in the day we both took part in a round table discussion on Blogs and blogging led by the Master of the Blogosphere Damien Mulley. Over at the Voyage Sharon has a wonderful story to tell of her journey through life as a young mum in Northern Ireland, fighting the fight for the true understanding of autism and providing home–education for her three children. It is well worth reading.

Sharon has paid me a great honour. Not just one but two!

A Kick Ass Blogger?

Would I… Now listen up Toyboys, behave or you might find out the other side of GM!

And the other one…

In the next few days they will be added to my trophy cabinet!

Thank you Sharon

Now who do I know who kicks ass? Well there are two who come to mind straight off, my Elly and Baino. They both go to the nub of a problem without fear of reprisal. They know how to get things done, I wonder if all the Chardy caused this effect?

Two blogs I love?

Steph writes a no holes barred journey through all levels of the Health Service, covering medical issues and experiences from the perspective of an Irish patient. Steph is now an ambassador for SIN – Stop Infection Now

Made Marian, a young lady I met at Podcamp Ireland last month, although we have corresponded across the blogs for some time. This young lady reminds me of my young days when I was so full of enthusiasm for all things crafty.

Darren was on the phone to a work colleague and she teased and enquired when he would give her the opportunity to buy a new hat. It is a phrase I heard many a time and often when I was young. It set Darren thinking, so he wrote a piece about Love And Marriage and asked for our thoughts.

I come from the dark ages. My father saw a woman’s place as in the kitchen. A third level education was seen as a waste for me as I would only go off and get married! Back then I had no interest in marriage because it only meant drudgery and work and I had plenty of that already with my father and brothers. Why would I ever willingly take all that on?

My working life started in the Civil Service. Back then girls working in the Civil Service in Ireland were required to resign from work on marriage. I know that my own mother would have liked to keep on working after she married. She had a good head for figures and indeed earned ‘a Man’s Wage’ back in 1941. My father announced that “No wife of mine will go out to work” and so my mother became a full time wife and mother.

Time passed and along came Jack and changed the whole canvas of my thinking. He was old enough to be my father, a widower, from a different religion and ‘English’! It may only be across the water to the next island but it was seen by my family as a very different culture. Heads nodded and tongues wagged, it was sure to be a disaster. We were more than expected to fall at the first hurdle.

While out with my mother one day shortly after we became engaged, I met a friend of mine. My friend was delighted and excited for me and said as much to my mother. To this day I still remember my mother’s reply “I hope she doesn’t miss out; he is a lot older than her you know!” There was no warmth or affection in the remark. Perhaps the way my mother uttered those words was the best thing she ever did. I knew that if I stumbled along the way, there would be no point in going home to mother! I would have to stay and work it out.

I didn’t expect to stumble and in fact never had any doubt that I was making the correct decision.

Within a week of the engagement my father produced a list! It was a first draft of wedding guests. It numbered 70 and that was only our side. I tore it up and said that we only wanted immediate family to share in our day. I had no desire for relations that only came when they needed feeding, to dance at my wedding. I in fact went on to say “Anyway, what is wrong with having the wedding out there in the back garden that you are so proud of”! I have no idea where that came from, but once uttered I began to really think about it and like the idea. A friend of mine was a chef and I asked him to look after the catering for us. He did. Every cup, glass, plate and chair was imported for the day, and he produced a mouth-watering buffer for us. A friend of one of my brother’s worked in a pub and organised to have the Guinness on tap for the boys (it was a great hit) we bought the wine wholesale.

My outfit cost £75 pounds and was way less than a traditional wedding dress. Jack wore a suit and we asked our witnesses to wear whatever they were comfortable in. My Godmother, a florist provided the flowers and I gave a couple of rolls of film each, to my eldest brother and my cousin and told them to just click away. No formal groups required. My Uncle officiated at the ceremony.

The sun shone brilliantly on the day and for most of the time thereafter. Marriage is not always a bed of roses; you only get out of it what you put in. It is a work in progress and we learn to change and move along with life’s seasons. You learn to live with the toothpaste being squeezed in the middle, the cushions being fluffed up the second you stand up from a chair, or the hours spent washing and polishing a car. Having a soul-mate to start the day, share worries and joys, kisses and cuddles, before snuggling close to as evening draws to a close is worth all the tea in China, as my grandmother used to say, or indeed all the modern day technology! A kiss or cuddle does not depend on broadband or electricity to work!

As someone who was married until death did us part, I know that the love and strength of my marriage has carried me through the black abyss of bereavement. In the dark days of Jack’s illness I regularly repeated silently to myself the word of the wedding vows I had made many years earlier and thought of how I felt about Jack when we first fell in love. It helped!

Sadly not all have a marriage like mine and I have watched with great pain while some have crumbled before my eyes. Nowadays there are so many distractions and modern working hours are no help. Laptops and mobile phones surgically attached are a curse of the highest order. No good saying I wish… when a marriage is over or a soul-mate has died. The time to do something is NOW!

I remember many decades ago, Gay Byrne had a Jesuit priest on the Late Late Show, talking about marriage and its problems. His advice (to the horror of all the little ‘Holy Marys’ round the country) was two hours on the couch twice a week! Best advice I ever heard.

Now close up that Laptop, switch off the mobile and tell your soul-mate how much you love them!

Amen.

The day is dull and the rain is falling but my heart is bursting with sunshine.

Mark the Postman knocked on my door, he had a parcel for me. It came from The King! Excitedly I opened it

and look what was inside:

Then Elly sent a text to say she had one of these in in her hot little hand:

It makes my little mobile phone look like a toy and it reminds me of a story.

Many years ago Jack wanted me right go wrong to have a Mink coat. We were staying in Dublin at the time and having a few hours shopping while Elly was playing shake the flour all over Nana’s Kitchen at making black pastry (well it was nearly black by the time she was finished). The coat was beautiful. A work of art, semi fitted with lustrous skins in a rich deep colour that at that time enhanced my auburn tresses. I did try it on and for the moment wrapped in luxury I felt like a Movie Star.

Then the voice of reason began to lecture, you know the way it is, we all have those nagging voices deep inside our heads. ‘Where are you going to wear this coat’? The voice asked. My lifestyle did not warrant a Mink Coat! It would spend more time in the wardrobe than on my back. So I declined Jack’s very generous offer.

Since I heard that I had won the Nokia N95 8GB through the generous Sponsorship of 02, for the Blog Post of the Month, a new venture of the Irish Blog Awards, my mind has been in turmoil, I could not with all honesty justify keeping it. I have a mobile phone for emergency purposes. Last month I used it for 2 very short calls and 7 outgoing text messages. The technology behind the N95 8GB would be wasted on me.

I made a decision. George, my son-in-law has a dying phone and I know he has lusted after an N95 8GB since it was introduced, but a love-nest took priority and all his pennies. We came to an agreement… the N95 in exchange for an upgrage of my mobile whenever I want it, plus a promise of an upgrade in whatever Nursing Home that Elly picks for me! Enjoy the phone George!

Now perhaps he won’t think of me as the Mother-in-Law from Hell

Blog Post of the Month started in April. Darragh was the worthy winner for May. We are ready to snuggle up closer on the winners bench and make room for new winners over the next 10 months.

Think about it, everyone has an equal chance of winning. Write from your heart and the rest will follow.

If you read a blog post that you feel is worthy, nominate it by blogging about it and linking to it as well as nominating it here. Remember to venture beyond your usual daily diet of blogs. There are many very worthy specialty blogs out there covering music, food, photography, politics, news, crafts, health issues, the Irish language and Technology, among others. While you visit all those blogs don’t forget to say hello and leave a comment. Comments are the Readybrek for bloggers, giving them the zest to keep going time after time.

I look forward to having you join Darragh and I on the winner’s bench. Good Luck!

We all know the phrase ‘Walking off into the sunset’. Mostly it brings to mind the idea of walking off into the never, never land of eternity, or as I like to think of it, walking into a new life, a new beginning. I was reminded of it last night while watching the sun set.

The sky at night on several occasions this month reminded me of another new beginning thirty years ago. Elly arrived in our lives in the early days of May and with her the beginning of a glorious summer. She was outdoors from 7.30am until it was time to bed her down for the night. The good weather lasted until October that year. Many a night Jack and I sat until well after the sun went down, I can still hear his remark ‘I suppose we better go in!’

May was a beginning for Elly and now it is also a time of endings. Last year it saw the official end of her single status as she prepared to marry her true love, George. This year May marks the ending of the time they spent is their temporary home and the new beginning of the move to their first step on the property ladder. Making a move like that is not easy nowadays. The current climate in the financial world has not made it any easier. They are to be admired for sticking in there and seeing it through.

I wish them well in their new home and look forward to sharing many visits. I hear ‘Mammy’s bed’ is on order so it won’t be very long before I have an excuse to travel south more often.

I only hope my visits are not like this:

There are days when I find myself surfing. No, not that kind of surfing.

I never liked swimming, because after one minute immersion I would start to shiver and my teeth would chatter louder than a Reggae Band. The air might not be blue but my body certainly would be. Opening the freezer door in my house requires more preparation than a polar expedition! So surfing the ocean waves is not my kettle of fish.

My surfing takes place in warm surroundings while sitting comfortably, and the only extremities necessary are my fingers. You guessed it; I surf the Net!

Well it is better than golf! If I joined a Golf club in this country, I would be battered and soaked by the elements and only be allowed play on Lady’s day while listening to the latest gossip about who wore this, or how dreadful Flossie looked in that outfit. You know exactly what it would be like! The Bar always peopled by men, far too old and boring for membership of my Toyboy Club! Their only topics are about chips, slices, woods, irons and handicaps! Now I have enough handicaps of my own without taking on any others

My surfing on the Net opens doors to new subjects and areas for exploration. I find them from links in blogs, shared items, online newspapers & magazines, emails and dear old Auntie Google

One of my latest forays brought me to:

Mike Moore B.A. M.ed who is a Humorist - Author - Cartoonist – Musician.

I thank him and agree wholeheartedly with this little snippet:

“What People Learn Laughing They Never Forget”

“It is impossible to worry while you’re laughing.”

All I would add is that a day without laughter is a day wasted!