Monday, 22 July 2013

Loving the Good Life

No one has loved the recent heatwave as much as the pets.  Toffee, who up to now had been mostly an indoor cat, demanded full equality with Fudge, our Labrador, and insisted on going out in the garden (under strict supervision).

He enjoyed the warmth of the sun,  chasing butterflies, listening to birds, and getting a new perspective on the world.

There was so much to see and experience, that he made a bolt for freedom at every opportunity.

And when it got too hot or he suspected we wanted him to go back inside, he took refuge under the wheel barrow.

Fudge, true to Labrador form, just wanted to play ball.

And sometimes he wanted to play with Toffee who found a new escape route from unwanted attention!


Wednesday, 17 July 2013

Summer Time and the Living is Easy



It's  summer, a  real summer, a summer of long hot days and warm breathless nights, not the disappointing, cool, damp Irish summers that we have grown accustomed to.  It's the summer of childhood memories, with the air  filled with the scent of honeysuckle and freshly mown hay.  Our usual Irish palette of lush greens has given way to Mediterranean ochres and reds.

It takes time to adjust to this new way of living. Summer dresses are pulled from suitcases, salad and barbecue recipes are perfected, windows thrown open and curtains pulled to keep out the heat of the mid-day sun.
It's time to adopt a continental way of living, to slow down, adjust our time table, take a siesta, sip cold drinks, and save the evenings for energetic chores.

I am reluctant to spent more time indoors than I have to.  Household chores are abandoned for time in the garden.  Blogging and other social networking is on hold.


And if I find myself wilting and beginning to mutter 'it's too  hot', I remember all the wet summers, when we looked out at the rain and wished for sunshine


Sunday, 30 June 2013

Living Life's Golden Moments.

It's summer and I'm living life in the real world. Blog posts have consequently fallen behind as I continue to question how much time I spend in the virtual world, neglecting the things I like doing in the real world.
I've been busy enjoying some golden evenings, celebrating our son finishing school and supporting him through the exams, rejoicing that he knows what he wants to do with his life,  taking lots of photos at some wonderful community events, and, best of all, going on a family holiday which included our dog.
So, I've got lots of catching up to do but first let me share some golden moments found close to home.






Sunday, 9 June 2013

The Simple Joys of Summer


I am loving this unusual spell of beautiful summer weather. It tempts me and seduces me into thinking how wonderful it would be if it was always like this. Warm summer days followed by long warm summer evenings.

Life is easier, less complicated, and simple pleasures easy to find.  Summer clothes are unearthed from suitcases, holiday dresses, cool linens and sandals donned every day, salads and bar-b-ques, strawberries and fresh home made smoothies. What's not to like?

The long days seem to last forever, with so many extra hours for myself when I come home from work.
There's time for dog walking, picking flowers, taking photographs.  




Time for watching, time for dreaming, for letting hopes soar.


And still time to come back home, full of the joys brought our world transformed by the gentle heat of the sun and the kind rays of light which warm our hearts.

Sunday, 2 June 2013

At the end of the day


At the end of the day, when I'm searching for beauty, there's a place I go not far from  home.
On this early summer's evening, the day trippers have gone, leaving  just  a handful  of dog walkers.



Alone with my camera, I drink in the beauty. I watch the sun sinking, the sky a kaleidoscope of changing hues, reflected in the still water of the in-coming tide.
 The waves lap gently on the rocky shoreline. I  inhale the salt infused air and breath deeply.

This is peace.
And there's more. Behind me the clouds are illuminated from the sun, even after it has slipped below the horizon.