Happy New Year

  As the sun sets on another year, we look ahead with  hope in our hearts. We see the light amid the darkness of mid winter.

              Is it time for diving right in with those New Year resolutions and making a splash?

               

Or is it better to swim with crowd, just leaving small ripples in our wake?

Only the coming year will tell and we'll know the answer in twelve months time.

The Year That Was

Memories of Budapest

It's that time of the year when our thoughts drift back over  the twelve months gone by, weighing up the good and the bad, the high points and the lows. We've been reviewing it at work too, looking at the back issues, and, if truth be told, it's a depressing exercise in Ireland.  The country is still in the grips of recession. Our young people, and not so young, are emigrating, and many are suffering economic hardship. But, amid all the sad stories of cutbacks to our health services, of suicides and unemployment, there is, I think, a glimmer of hope.
For the first time since the collapse of the Celtic Tiger, we've  had some good news stories to write this year, with a number of job annoucements for our town. I remember how excited we were when the news broke that Paypal was locating in Dundalk.  It wasn't just that the jobs being created (many of which didn't go to local people anyway) but the fact that we finally had good news for the front page. We don't like being harbingers of doom all the time.
Looking back on the year, we will also remember the terrible weather which blighted our summer, brought misery to those holidaying at  home and destroyed the crops.  Even the Euro Championships failed to lift our spirits as Ireland crashed out although the fans did us proud.
 It was so wet, that for days I simply didn't lift my camera and abandoned my Photo A Day project over on Pbase.

Summer visitor

Aside from our family holiday to Budapest, a city we loved despite the June heatwave and where I got to meet a gracious Pbase friend and her husband,  the things I remember best about the year were moments spent with family and friends.  There was a big family together across the Irish Sea for the mother-in-law's 80th birthday early in the year, a day trip with two of my closest friends  made memorable by unexpectedly warm weather at the end of March, and I treasure the time I spent catching up with an old friend who came home from the United States during the summer. When she walked into my kitchen and began helping me cook dinner, the miles and years vanished and it was as if she had never left.

Family gathering

A Summer of disappointment

2012 was also the year I started blogging, got over my fear of asking people if I could take their photograph, began baking, took the initiative to organise a local walk for World Wide Photo Walk Day, and perhaps most importantly,  the year our son discovered  his talent and delight in art.

Portrait of the artist as a young man

World Wide Photo Walk

Post-Christmas Hibernation

It's these days that I like best. The days after Christmas when the pressure is off and there's no excuse for not relaxing. The big dinner has been cooked, the cards sent, the gifts exchanged, so there's nothing left to do but to slow down, take it easy, and chill  out.  It's time for long chats on the phone, for watching films, for reading, and, for some, studying. It's the perfect time, in many ways, for hibernating.
The January sales, which nowadays start on St Stephen's Day, no longer tempt me.  I don't need new clothes, and if I do, I can always pick them up at a discounted price in TK Maxx at any time of the year.  Our house is furnished and decorated, and Santa brought me a new lens, so I have no reason to go shopping.
The sunshine of recent days gave way to grey skies and rain, so apart from walking the dog, I didn't
venture out today.  I took my seat in front of the warm stove, read, chatted, and hatched a plan that dinner would consist of whatever we could find in the freezer. A fine plan which worked well.

Merry Christmas Everyone

I love Christmas. I always have done so. I remember as a little girl, lying in the cold darkness of the winter night,  listening, willing myself to hear sleigh bells and the clatter of reindeer hooves on the roof.  I always fell asleep too soon but in the morning I'd find my presents at the bottom of my bed.  I remember too going to Christmas mass with my parents, sitting upstairs in the gallery of the small country church, listening to the carols which seemed to me to echo the singing of angels. (Yes, we did have a good choir!)
While I no longer believe in fairytales, I still love Christmas.  I love the idea of a festival to brighten
the darkest days of the year. I love the decorations, the cards we send to friends, the exchanging of gifts with those we love, the family traditions,  the feeling of goodwill to all. I love putting up the decorations, remembering the stories of where and when they were purchased, blending family recipes to create our own Christmas dinner, getting out the old china and best table cloth.
I'm not naive enough to think that everyone enjoys Christmas.  For many people it's a time of sadness, a reminder of empty places around the table, of loved ones who won't be joining the celebrations.  For others,  it's a struggle to meet the expectations which our materialistic society have foisted on this mid-winter festival.
I hope everyone has had an enjoyable and peaceful Christmas with those they love.

Far From The Madding Crowds

Today I wanted to escape from the madness which surrounds the build up to Christmas.

I wanted nothing of packed shops, thronging crowds and the ringing of tills.
I had braved the supermarkets yesterday  so the cupboards are full, and I just have to buy a few last minute fresh groceries tomorrow.
Today I wanted to take time out with himself. I wanted to leave the world of commercialism behind, to walk along the shores of Carlingford Lough, through the narrow village streets, and to sit outside  drinking hot chocolate with the dog. That is what we did and it was good.
The village, normally busy with day trippers, was quiet and Paul Henry clouds hovered above The Mournes.