For the Love of Textiles

Almost a week home now....but I still haven't landed 100%. Guess I don't want to land in real. Being at home means that the uncomplicated life we had in the little cottage changes to life we normally live.With all ups and downs and happy and scary moments. We already had a scary moment.... Last saturday after waking up Bram told me that he wasn't feeling well (pressure on his chest) and that I had to call the doctor and that he wanted to go to the hospital. Little panic with me (No, please..not again..I really don't want this to happen after all we had gone through) but after contacting the hospital we immediately went there. The pain in his chest had gone by the time we went, but he felt very uncertain with his body (overall he has the feeling that his body is letting him down. Checks were done, but nothing found and we went back with a recipe for a medicine. Luckily we have to go to the cardiologist on Friday and I am going to persuade him to have an MRI scan. Bram

I said goodbye to "My Bay" yesterday- afternoon. The cows from Marty were on the beach staring at that strange man. Rain came, and after that suddenly Innishboffin became clear in sight. The sun did shine for a few minutes on the houses and green fields of that island. I picked up some nice yellow-orange shells to take home,so I can remember the days of calmness here which cleared my mind and cleansed my soul. Walking back I realized how good this holiday has been for the both of us, here at the place we know so well. Days have gone by in a pleasant way. Coffee in Clifden, the Irish Times on hand, a little shopping for dinner, a swim and a walk and little trips by car, healthy dinners with a glass of wine, knitting in the evening with a cup of tea. A glass of whiskey at the end. Exitement in little things. We had a nice evening last night with Anne, Pat and Tony, as we always have on the evening before we leave. Tea and cakes and gifts we got. Now it is the last morning he

For today they promised persistant rain coming from the West. Strong winds from the Atlantic. And, yes it is raining already all morning. I made the fire and it is comfortable here. Warm tea and porridge. But I often think about how it must have been here long ago. Living in a damp cottage all year round. Healthproblems would occur. Flu or even worse. There are still many of these traditional houses all around in the landscape. Ruins they are. The roof has disappeared and all is left are stone walls. In the area where we are many can be found. Sometimes you can see holes were windows would have been. Reflections from the past they are. But there is history in these houses. Personal history which links to the history and development of a country. Babies were born and grandparents passed away. Happines and sadnes. The ordinary daily life from going to bed when it was dark and waking up early. The first thing needed to be done was making fire to get the cold out. If you were lucky the

Today was a typical Irish summerday (just kidding). Fog, drizzle and rain, but not cold. In the afternoon it became dry and it stayed dry all evening. After dinner I made a walk to Selerna bay. While walking I suddenly became aware of the silence around me and I could hear the silence in my head. The first time I discovered this silence in my head was during a meditation session. I was so amazed with the awareness, that it was away the next second and that silence was also a bit overwhelming. Never had such a strong experience with silence. Now I like to go back to that silence every now and than. Sit and breath is all it takes. This place offers me a lot of intense silence which is doing well for my often hectic mind. It comes sort of automatically when I make a walk. It might be one of the reasons why I like to be here.

Smell. When I am walking to the bay for my daily swim, I am surrounded by the smell of flowers. Sweet perfume from wild roses. A strong aroma from red klover. It is a little walk, but I enjoy it everytime. The nearer I come to the sea,  the stronger one can smell the sea. Esspecially at low tide you get the pungent smell from seaweed in your nose. Stones, which are usually under water show their green covering and give their particular smell. The smell of the sea always makes me happy. Salt water and salt air. The Irish poet John O'Donnell has written a poem which covers it all. Salty nights: damp hair and skin, ears still full of sand listening to the beach. I would love to live near the sea. Last year we visited our dear friend Penny who lives next to the sea. Just a street inbetween her house and the sea. I have never slept closer by the sea. Sleeping  with the window open and listening and smelling the sea was such a great experience for me. Smell I guess, is the most di

There are very sad parts in the Irish History. The Great Famine is one of the many. 1849 it was. The potato crop was totally rotten. No food from the land meant no money for the tennants. No money meant that they couldn't pay the rent for their house to the landlord. They were forced to leave their house. The house than was taken down by the landlord so they couldn't stay. Whole families, young and old had to leave the place they lived. The harsh climate didn't help much to survive and many passed away during their flew to...yes, to where?? The lucky ones escaped to the New World, but only the ones who had the money for it. It is the same which still happens today. No work means no money and no money means no future. Little has changed. There is still poverty in the world. Monday morning we set off for a trip to Doo Lough. It was nice weather when we left. The more closer we came to Leenane, the more drizzle appeared. We followed the road among the Aasleagh waterfall, De

Shells...whenever I am on the beach I pick up some shells. Have done this since the first time I came here.  Picking up shells is a thing you learn as a child. I loved making things with the shells. At home we had 1 rather exotic big shell and if you took it to your ear you could hear the sea. I really believed that story. The shells on the beach are not very exotic. They are simple shells in all kind of colours. I am always picking up some. It almost goes without thinking. Perhaps it is somewhere in my genes One day it can be that I only pick up the yellow ones and on other days I pick up all kinds. They always go into a pocket from my worn out black fleece jacket. There is no reason for picking up shells. It is just nice to do.

Next to the scones Anne also bakes once a week a great tasting sodabread for us. Sodabread...I think it belongs to the Irish identity. It is an easy bread to make. It just takes flour and perhaps some oats. Sprinkke of salt. Some Baking Soda and milk or buttermilk. Mix it with a wooden spoon to a soft dough. Make it into a round shape. A cross with a knife on top to let the fairies out. Bake in the oven and out comes this soft and moist bread. Nothing tastes better than a slightly piece of "still a little warm" sodabread with butter. It doesn't need more.

Sunsets. Love watching them. I can't remember from previous holidays here that we did see so many beautiful sunsets. I go in and out of the house to watch. Everyday they are different. Never a dull moment with a sunset.... Here are a few from last weeks.

It was a nice day today. I decided we should go for lunch to Ballynahinch castle. Well, it is not really a castle, more a manorhouse with castle elements and now turned into a nice hotel. We usually go there when we are here. For coffee or tea or a lunch. There is certainly a kind of romance in that place. Open fires, library, nice diningroom, a beautiful garden and the river which flows among. You can learn to flyfish with the help of a Gillie or make nice walks in the surroundings. One of the previous owner was a Maharadja from India. You can read his full name on a plaquette, but overall he is known as: Ranji. He was the first Indian cricket-player who was in the English National team in the beginning of the previous century. He happened to arrive one day in Connemara and fell in love with it and bought Ballynahinch castle. He would arrive with his Indian staff at the railwaystation at Ballynahinch after a long travel by boat and train all the way from India. It must have been a

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