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Daily Life Experiences Blog

This is the post excerpt.

Hi,  just a quick introduction about me and what my site is about.  I am a 50 something woman, a woman in my prime, some would say.  I would say just a woman, getting on with life and learning and discovering along the way.

I like to write.  I write about anything and everything.   It all depends on my mood, on if I feel I have something to say or if something just pops into my head and turns out to be the first line of a new poem.

I like to write about my life, my experiences or my perceptions of things.  I have no distinctive style or agenda, just thoughts, the good, the bad and the ugly and I like to relay them here.  Whether it is a relationship with ourselves, our families, our friends, or the world and planet around us, we all have relationships and we all have an opinion, an observation or an impact in those relationships.

I hope you enjoy this journey with me and I hope you can relate with some of what I have to say or at least that you may get a bit of a giggle sometimes.   I wish you all the best in all your Relay shun ships……. post

What now?

There are no guarantees of being a success, of finding ‘the one’ of being fulfilled. No guarantees of reaching your goals, living to a ripe old age or attaining your dreams.

What is it then, within us to continually seek to try, to find, to hope and to keep going, even in the face of adversity. Is it all our intrinsic resources that push us on, or are there extrinsic factors at force?

It must be both but, even with the best will in the world, sometimes, it seems like a hard battle to fight or difficult mountain to climb, and then we feel defeated.

Then, sometimes out of nowhere it seems, that all is not lost, there is another way to climb the mountain, once rested, and not all battles need to be won in order to succeed and feel a sense of hope again.

Adapt, be absent and acceptance are the three ‘A’ s that will help pull you through the rough times. Accept that there is a difficulty, stay absent, for a while, from the usual routine or the usual people around you, and soon you will find a way to adapt to the changes that you must face.

There is no guarantee that things will always stay the same. There will be ups and downs. There will be losses and gains there will be love and pain but all will not be lost and something of value will be taught.

I lost a very dear friend recently. My heart was broken, for her, her family and for me. She is a huge loss and leaves a massive void.

We won’t grow to be old ladies together. I had never even contemplated that…. She died too young, but she had a good life and she enjoyed her life to the full. She lived with love and shared her love amongst her family and friends.

So in this sorrow, in this grief and hurt and pain there has to be acceptance and life must adapt without her physical presence. Making ourselves absent, giving ourselves time and self love, to come to terms with the loss and remember the good times is crucial in the process.

There is no time limit, there is no right or wrong way to grieve. For me, I believe she is present, all around us. I talk to her, pray for her, look out for signs of her. I keep her alive in my heart, even though I miss her and the rest of the life, she should have had. Yet I’m grateful for the time we did have….

So what now? One step at a time. One day at a time, we move forward. It’s all we can do. We live, we love, we hope, we pray, we dream. We must stay humble and grateful for the time and love we shared and for all our loved ones lost to us, live on with them in our hearts…. Until we meet again…..

Authors own

The tomorrows

Though the tides will ebb and flow and the night will turn to day
The steps that go one, in front of the other
Will always carry you, along the way…..
Hearts filled with love and sorrow
Will carry over, all the tomorrows that you do not have
But live on through those left behind who will tell stories of their encounters, and we will smile, as we recall, with such joy, the love and laughter that we once shared and so, you will live on another day, and more, until we gather together again, and dance and laugh and hold you tight, in our arms…..

Authors own.. Coombe Abbey, tranquil walk

Dinner for two

I took you to dinner that night
We sat by the window
A view of the river Lee flowing past
A beautiful orchid and candle
Central on the table
I layed my napkin, carefully, thoughtfully, on my lap
I hung my head a few seconds longer
Composing myself
Before looking at the chair opposite me
Smiling, imagining you sitting there
Knowing
That sometime after dinner
We would have our very last factime
It would soon be time for you to go
You were being called home
To your eternal rest
I had to prepare myself
To face the reality
That this was it
And so, I took you to dinner
And I stared at that chair
Smiling at you, as though you were there

Toasted you, our friendship
And told you I loved you forever
I thanked you for being my friend
I told you I was blessed to have met you

45 years wasn’t long enough
I explained I would forever keep you with me
I raised a glass to you
I told you I was sad that you had to go
But I understood it was time
Acknowledged that you were tired
And ready to go
Told you how much you would be missed by us all
But you already knew that
You knew how special you were to us
I didn’t want dinner to end
I didn’t want any of it
I wanted you here
To be in that chair for real
Laughing and chatting
And being healthy and well
I wanted that, more than anything
And I know
You did too…..

Celebrity… Tosh?

Where do they get off, so called celebrities, with their view of ‘tosh’.

Clarkson, Morgan, love to rant, but feel the Prince shouldn’t, or can’t?

A tell all memoir of his life, of course, there’s lots who’ll blame his wife!

Opinions, opinions, view points and all, but isn’t he the one, that can recall it all?

I’m neither a Royalist nor celebrity struck, but I’m sick and tired of reading such muck.

How can a celebrity think his path is right, and people should support them, in their ‘toshful’ plight?

Horses for courses in the lives that we lead. What right has a celebrity, to preach how to succeed.

Their life is their life, only they can live it. Not perfect, not wholesome, and could change in a minute!

What happened to the message that we all should ‘be kind’. Then what gives you the right, to speak out your mind?

Were you born into royalty and told what to do. A flash in your face, media following you?

From the day you were born, they just won’t relent. You’re expected to conform and you have the intent.

To do as your told, for the sake of the crown, but even the mighty have to fall down.

Break free from the chains and get out of the game, like an animal that’s wild, and doesn’t want to be tamed.

But wants to roam free, walk his own winding path, and show to the world, the life that he had.

So many will tell him what a ‘privilege’ he had, but if he doesn’t want it, does that make him bad.

He’s scorned if he does he’s scorned if he doesn’t, told to do this, told that he mustn’t.

Let the man be to live his own life, a person, a father a husband to his wife.

Who are we all to court contraversy, just let him speak, if it sets him free.

How many celebs have written a book, about their own lives and want us to look?

To see their life, from their own side, some of it shameful but balanced with pride.

We are all just people, walking this planet, born in to circumstance, we none of us planned it.

Stop casting aspirations on what he should do. Keep guarded your counsel on what YOU should do.

Stop with the shouting, the words of disdain, pointing the finger and causing such pain.

Keep your opinions in your own little minds and remember the message to ‘please be kind’

How can we know if people don’t tell, how it was for them, whether heaven or hell.

Perspective and context, only they really know. So big mouthed celebrities just ‘let it go’

You were born a nobody just like me. Be wise be humble, with an ounce of dignity!

Oblivious

Sleep alludes me, though I am so very tired. The sun cracks through the opened window, early in the mornings, and the dawn chorus awakens me. Such a contrast to the labouring snores blasting my ears as he sleeps beside me, deep in his slumber, oblivious to raucous he makes or the sound of the dogs barking from across the garden.

My mind wanders to our new house, wondering how soon before we get the keys. The start to our new life. How shall I dress this one to make it a home? Which colours and fabrics and oddments shall I use.
A blank canvas screaming for life and colour.

As I lay awake, I try to escape the noise and get lost deep in the kaleidoscope of my imagination until finally, sleep will surrender itself to me and I too will be oblivious….

This house…

This House….

When I leave this house I wonder

Will it miss me and the noise within its walls?

Will it wonder

Where did we go and are we coming back?

Will it be silent or will it groan with the emptiness?

When I leave this house I wonder

Will I miss the space and the fit of it?

All my things, in familiar places

Nooks and cranny’s

The creaks of the wood as it gets warmer then colder

Will the sound of it spark fear in the new owners?

When I leave this house will the memory of my ordinary days here

Stay with me

The view from the window as I wash the dishes

The colour of the sun as it rises and sets, front and back of my garden

The light and dark of the shadows it casts

The light and dark of the noise that the house was privy to

Family banter

The hustle and bustle of yesterday

when they were all here

When I leave this house, will it feel betrayed

Will I remember the colour of spring in the garden that I planted?

And the new light of autumn as the leaves fall from the trees

The laughter of the summer days

Children playing

Daisy chains

Will the weeping willow continue to weep?

Or will it wither and die

When I leave this house that I built from scratch

From the foundations to the roof

And filled its cavity with strong walls to bring to life

a home

Will I feel deep sadness too difficult to describe?

Then will I pretend 

that it is OK

it is only a house?

Evidence

When the clutter is not really clutter, can you just let it go?

Photo by Andrea Piacquadio on Pexels.com

Evidence

It’s the final countdown

Countdown to leaving

Leaving this place

Where do I begin

To bring it to an end

How do I decide

Decades of ‘collectables’

The pleasure they derived

Stored, hoarded, and boxed away

Time to decide in the next few days

Boxed away neatly large and small

Could I really get rid of them all?

Time to let go

They are all in the past

Give them a future in

Someone else’s hands

Take the step

Shed that old skin

Wriggle on out

 like a snake, Slithering

hard as it is, it must be done

the countdown is on

you’re on the home run

liberation from ‘things’ that

simply are that

but, they give us our memories

and bring us back

a time to remember

when we did this and did that

it’s not so easy to ‘just let go’

some things must be kept

just because, it is so

the trinket gift, given with love

no price would ever be enough

the child’s little drawing

given with pride

or the pottery they made

with such great strides

it’s hard to abandon or just

throw out

it’s not all ‘clutter’

I have no doubt

So time to discern and

And pick my way through

I can’t turn my back on

Evidence of you

Down through the years

We’ve gathered so much

Does it matter, if it still collects dust

Knowing they’re there

In the dark attic space

Brings comfort to me

And a smile on my face

The clothes, the bags, the furniture too

Can all be discarded

But not evidence of you

You when you were little

And all you achieved

To throw it all out,

I would be aggrieved

One day I would hope

When you go through these things

The memories come back

And your heart, too will sing.

So clutter me this, you are coming with me

To a new home to live

To be stored and to be……

Surplus to Requirements

Photo by jinjireh on Pexels.com

Looking round this house of mine

Every item tells a story

Even down to the rolling pin

It all can be quite boring

The flower pots and picture frames

That hang upon my walls

Each ornament or luxury items

I can recall them all

My comfy couch and super king bed

Well, that was such a blessing

To have all that space, to sleep on the edge

And no I am not messing

The mattress is made of memory foam

And is oh so comfortable

We didn’t bank on it remembering our weight

And in the middle, leaving a massive lump!

It now resembles the Sahara

So barren with a big sand drift

And trying to change the bloody sheets

Is comparable to climbing Everest

The Kitchen scales, pots and pans

The trendy arty vase

Long have served this woman’s needs

Even when I couldn’t be arsed

So many things just gather dust

And others are stuffed in drawers

It’s doesn’t stop me going out

And bringing home some more.

Some would call it clutter, or say that I’m a hoarder

They say its best when the shops are closed

But they forget, I use mail order

I simply cannot help but buy

The things that I like to buy

Some things are very pretty

And some have made me cry

Like the Dyson bloody hoover

It cost a small fortune

I could be sat drinking in Marbella

Listening to lovely some Spanish tunes

The husband, he insisted

On getting that bloody gadget

I was happy with the broom

And spend the money on foreign magnets

It’s only now, we’re selling up

And heading somewhere new

It’s all about downsizing, but

To where, I haven’t got a clue

I want to go somewhere warm

And feel the sun upon my skin

But that would mean leaving behind

My mates and all my kin

They all moved on and are on that Wheel

The treadmill that’s called life

I’ve been there, seen it done it, and now

I want to be a fun filled wife

Pay a little attention to me and my old man

Time to relax a little bit

And do it while we can

So what do we do with all this stuff

Now surplus to requirements

Bin it, bag it, chuck it out

Or take the clutter with us

It doesn’t really matter

It served us for our needs

Just the family photos

Are the things that we should keep

And pack a bag and travel light

And see what we can find

It’ll be a great adventure

A Christopher Columbus kind

Who knows what we’ll find when we get there

Or what we might discover

But what a team we will be

Like Mel Gibson and Danny Glover

I’ll drive him nuts with my crazy ways

And he’ll keep me in check

Steer me clear of the charity shops

And I’ll say ‘what the heck’

We’ll buy us a brand new mattress

No memory foam sight

No humps or bumps between us then

Just a sweet and peaceful night

Downsizing….. What it means

Sometimes we just have to let go, feel the fear and do it anyway. When we let go it is exciting, exhilarating and liberating

Photo by Ono Kosuki on Pexels.com

It’s nearly completion date and that can only mean one thing….. time to start packing and sorting and selling off/giving away what I no longer need, the ‘stuff’ that is surplus to requirements.

We all have it,’stuff’ even if we don’t mean to have it, but the ‘stuff’ piles up, in our homes, our cars, our bags, everywhere.

We accumulate over the years. We change our cars, our furniture, our decor and style, and our homes.

Now I am changing my home, yet again, but this time, for a smaller home. I have lived in small before.

When I first left home at age 16, I lived in a bedsit, tiny room, shared bathroom and shared kitchen. I owned very little, as it was furnished. I owned easily removable things, like my record player and records. Some pictures and a few ornaments.

Over the years my properties have got bigger and bigger and so has the amount of stuff and furniture. This one is the biggest, the one that I am about to leave. This one I designed, on a piece of paper, handed it to an architect and then proceeded to build it. From start to finish, it was my project, my taste, my style, my design.

It has housed my husband and I and our children for 23 years. We have fostered 13 children and have 4 grand children who have all walked the floors of this house, slammed the doors, laughed and cried within the walls and played out in the garden.

The decor has been changed numerous times. The rooms have been re organised many times and we have ran a couple of businesses from it over the years.

We have accumulated a lot of stuff in the process and now I have to undo the doing, because now, we are going smaller again, but big enough to still be a down size….

Will I miss my house? yes of course. Do I feel emotional about it? certainly, but the time is right for our next adventure.

The only thing is, most of my stuff is too big for the new house, or the wrong style. I have a very eclectic taste and I have some wonderful pieces of furniture, from Edwardian to Victorian to very modern.

When we decorate rooms we always feel better about them and are pleased with the changes we made, but eventually, we tire of it, well, I do anyway, and so we change it again.

We do the same with cars and clothes and they seem much easier to shed and to move on without any major emotional distress, right?

That is what I keep telling myself now, about shedding this house, and all we have done here, with all the aforementioned people that were here with us.

I keep telling myself, ‘it is just stuff, you take the memories with you’. But I do feel a little bit attached to some of the stuff too.

Then I think, but someone else can get the pleasure out of that beautiful piece of furniture and I can get excited about sourcing a new piece for my new house. I get a buzz from finding ‘nice things’. A new project, a new beginning, a new style, a new neighbourhood. Exciting, daunting, liberating, all at the same time.

The sorting and packing and picking and choosing, now that is the real dilemma, but it has to be done and so today I made a start.

I cannot tell you how many times I changed my mind about things, but then said, just let it go, like Anna, in Frozen, time to let go.

My pictures, my paintings, my bits and bobs, they can be easily packed. My books, now that is a different matter, I would nearly need a small van for those alone, I cannot let go of them quite so easy….

The procrastination has come to an end and the ‘sorting’ has begun. It is with mixed feelings, but ultimately, happy and excited ones about the change that we are heading into as we progress to our downsizing.

Were going from 6 beds to 4 beds from 3000 square feet to 1600 square feet and from an acre garden to a quarter acre and can finally get rid of the ride on lawn mower and cut down on the mowing!

I look forward to a smaller house to clean, to paint, to decorate, to garden in and to have new walks, new views, new people to meet, new places to discover, a new place to make and call home, for our family to come and visit and enjoy with us.

So it’s full steam ahead and on the home stretch now, into completing the transaction for our new home! Watch this space……….

The place where I live….

Itchy feet again…… Perspective is everything and as we develop and grow, what we didn’t like can change to what we do like and visa versa, but does that mean we have to stay still or is it good to keep moving, keep seeking and trying new things, including places to live……

image authors own…..

‘We travel, some of us forever, to seek other states, other lives, other souls.’  Anais Nin

Currently I am in the process of selling my house, which I built 23 years ago in this north Wexford village, called The Ballagh, I was 32 when I moved back to Ireland and subsequently built this house a couple of years later, on the outskirts of the village. 

‘Not for a million pound a week would I live there again’, I said, when I left this village at aged 19.

I had first moved to the Ballagh in 1979 when I was 14 years old.  Having come from a fairly large city in the UK it was a complete culture shock to me, leaving the hustle and bustle of a city life, my friends, and my independence of hopping on a bus anywhere, practically from outside my front door, for the deafening quiet of rural country living.   

The Ballagh was a very sleepy village back then, with a shop which was also a bar attached and outside a petrol pump if you needed to fill your car.  There was another pub down the road, a post office a church, a national school and a run-down community centre, with very little activity.   

Outside of the post office was the iconic green and cream public phone box and it was my link to the outside world, out beyond the Ballagh.    There was no bus service, except for the secondary school bus which passed through, twice a day, once to take us to school and the next to bring us home.

I had been known to miss the bus, on occasion, in the morning, knowing there was no other way to get to school…. 

Back then I felt totally trapped in this little village and the only way to get anywhere was to stick out my thumb and hitch a lift.  This was a complete no no in the city from whence I had come, but here, in the country, it was an acceptable and encouraged part of everyday life.

I would love it when I would go into Wexford Town, 20 minutes away.  There was more ‘life’ there down along the main street and the quay front, and the view looking out across the water filled me with joy.  There were people, lots of them, just milling around doing ordinary things, shopping, browsing and crowds of kids hanging out. There was a good vibe about the town, and I longed to be a part of it. 

Now and in the last 23 years, this little village, had expanded somewhat with new one off houses popping up everywhere and a few new housing estates.  The post office completely renovated and expanded to give us a much needed supermarket, but alas the iconic phone box has long gone.

The shop with the bar has also been expanded, well the pub part of it, and it also gained a function room, but lost the petrol pump.

 Back in the day, if it was a function room you were after, it was the Un Yoke, down the road, and everyone, from all over, flocked to it

 Now that was a great place, and at the time, it was my saviour because every week-end I got to go there and enjoy the hustle and bustle again, dance to the local bands such as Theresa and the Stars or indeed the big bands like Joe Dolan and the Wolfe Tones. 

 Sadly, it burned down many years ago, but the car park is now used for the very popular Car Boot Sale, on a Sunday morning.

The national school has been extended twice in the last 23 years to accommodate the ever expanding population and the secondary school bus still comes but twice a day.

The Ballagh may be known more specifically for its GAA than anything else as it has produced some great hurling and camogie players over the years, even winning the All Ireland back in 1996, the year before I moved back here.  It’s full title of course being Oulart the Ballagh, as our two half parish’s make a whole. 

This village is more than GAA however, it has a good community spirit.  The new and improved community centre has many uses, from running a boxing club, youth club, active retirement group and a preschool, to name but a few.

We have a lovely forest walk just outside the village at Kilbride and another up Ballyboy Hill.  We have cool named roads to walk such as the Fairy Lane and Tea Pot lane.  But do not dare to walk the Fairy Lane past midnight or you will be stuck there until Sunrise!  After that enjoy the fairy lane walk to the village and back and your steps for the day will be covered.

 Before Covid put a halt to things, our annual field day would be held in the school grounds and is always a winner and great day to be had by all, young and old, with the whole community coming together to donate, participate and confabulate.

The many fundraisers held by the local people, giving up and dedicating their time freely to help further on desperately needed projects, like improving the church, the community centre, the GAA or helping those that are sick.  

We have builders, carpenters, hairdressers, beauty therapists and bakers to name but a few of the tradesmen and craftsmanship that goes on here.  We have a community Facebook page to ask, advise and advertise anything and everything you wish.

The two pubs, Bob’s Bar and the Sawdust Inn, both family friendly and welcoming and not only can you get a good Céad Míle Fáilte there, you can eat drink and be merry.  Dance the night away to the varied entertainment they put on, and you can also do so in the knowledge that at the end of the night, if you are stuck for a lift home, the owners are only too happy to oblige.

As much as I didn’t like living in this village when I was a 14-year-old ‘blow in’ and swore, I would not I live here again, I am glad that I did, with a renewed appreciation for country living.

I raised my family here, and was happy to do so.   But now, I guess I am seeking another new life and meet other new souls, perhaps in a new state and maybe a bit more hustle and bustle. 

It just feels like my time here has come to a natural end with the end of raising my children, who are off on their own discoveries. 

I hope that the people that come to live in my house, not only appreciate and enjoy the house but the village that it is in and all it has to offer.