music is my boyfriend

Last Friday Galway had its first ever Night of Culture. Already with fantastic festivals for the Arts, film and literature, it was about time the city took to the streets to celebrate like other European cities. The lovely Ellen friend took the bus down from Dublin to arrive on time for Thomas's performance at the Opening Ceremony, which was a quiet affair before the very busy schedule of the evening. People took to the streets in their hundreds, with venues, restaurants and bars overflowing with those keen to enjoy the culture, the atmosphere, and the good times. With a full Harvest Moon in the sky, an early-morning walk along the beach took me home to my bed as a goodnight to the night. A few groggy hours later I was back on the beach saying hello to the day and good riddance to the cobwebs.
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and it was all yellow

When sun shines out and we all feel better. But when you put nice weather with good coffee, old friends and interesting chats, it's a day to feel happy all round. So smile. And smile. Then smile some more.

sunday through monday

one week = seven days = what's a girl to do?

from left to right

This little piggy from the West of Ireland travelled across the skies to meet this little piggy in the Middle East. Little piggy #2 had warned little piggy #1 of the roaring hot temperatures yet for some reason against common sense, the journey happened anyway. And you know what? But she was right, it was too damn hot.

We visited the Grand Mosque at sunset, just before the evening prayer. Sexy parts covered up, we looked like a right pair - just call us Biddy and Bridie... will ya have a cuppa tea? Ah go on... go on...

On holiday and what did we do? We went on holiday! Driving two hours down the road to Dubai, where we saw a lot of skyscrapers. No surprise there.

Back in Abu Dhabi we were little piggy princesses who got a manicure pedicure at the spa and took a couple of photos of green things to remind us of the land of home. Not a potato in sight.

a night in a tent

We are the girls of the textile gang and we went on a wild camping trip to the great outdoors. Minus Miss Holly Lil Hands, who had to dash off to London at the last minute to start a short-notice new job that was totally worth missing the trip for. Berwick is somewhere down the east coast from Edinburgh, somewhere just further north of Newcastle. It's Holly's hometown and she's been inviting us to visit for years. Finally we got there and alas! she wasn't there to share it. Her mum picked us up from the station anyway, squeezing us in the back of her car, kindly taking us to Asda to stock up on supplies, then driving us along on a guided tour of the town. That night it didn't rain but it POURED. Typical British weather. And in true British camping spirit, we stubbornly sat outside getting wet and cold, drinking our beers, insisting we were having a good old time. During the night I was afraid I'd have to call Noah to come and get us with his ark, while worst-case-scenario nightmares of flash flooding worried me to the point of sleeplessness. Yet lo and behold, come 4.30am on the dot, it stopped. I slept two heavenly hours and woke up to a simply beautiful sunny day.

afternoon delight

Last night I went to bed and there was nobody home. This morning I woke and left really early. Then around lunchtime I return again to a flat where again there was nobody home, except the giraffe, the three flamingos, and the plants. So I turned on the radio for company, as you do. 

Then what should I find but this wonderful note and some freshly picked strawberries! Invisible flatmate #2 had been up North and spent the day on strawberry farm, eating her way through the afternoon and bringing home a box full. Well, when somebody is so kind as to share, the least I can do is to share in return. Yes, I baked. Google-ing strawberry recipes, I was on the search for something other than a victoria sponge or eton mess. One blog had a recipe for fruity oatmeal cookies, so, with a lot of butter at the ready, that is what I made.

hello hello hello

Life can be a funny thing, taking memories away and replacing them with new ones. It makes continuing durable, I suppose. Otherwise we would feel frightfully sad and empty, only ever looking backwards with nostalgia to days gone by. I'm glad it's the way it is though, because it means I can take my old friends and find myself falling in love with them anew, over and over again.

the magic of myth

The days were longer at home for some reason. Time was my friend and made itself readily available, it felt good. Days were filled with numerous activities, all of which were made better by sharing them with friends. Now, post - holidays and back in the real world, it's like time and I are back on the treadmill that's spinning a little too fast. Ah.

On the last day of December we got together in the house of the McKeevers. Bringing along a bag full of crafty things we sat and made hats and cleaned the house in preparation of ringing in the New Year. The evening arrived, the table was laden with food and with wine. The people arrived one by one, each crowning themselves with their special hats. With much music and merriment I dare say it was a Proper Party.

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To blow away the cobwebs and have a good old immersion in the Irishness of home, a few of us took a drive down to the Burren where we walked the stoney expanse and saw the sea that promised itself as the gateway to Tir na nOg. The white horse that happened to be wandering nearby....? More than a coincidence I think.