A number of weeks back whilst I was busying myself with something or other in the kitchen, something caught my attention on the radio that was playing in the background. Someone had mentioned the word ‘pallet’ ! I perked up, as anyone that knows me will know that I have a strange affection for pallets. The piece was about a group called Upstart and they were launching the very first pop-up park in Dublin. Granby Park. The idea was actually genius. The aim was to make use of derelict unused spaces in the city and bring about something creative beautiful and somewhere that people were able to gather and share and chat and enjoy. All done by volunteers I might add. The pallet part was of course my favourite – they had somehow spectacularly created a theatre from, you guessed it, pallets. Hundreds of pallets were contructed into an arena by young people from Dublin and Belfast and they named the theatre ‘Dubfast’ to recognise the work that was put into it by these two groups.

But even though there was a full schedule of performances and shows, the park was so much more than the theatre. There was a ‘playground’ area made up from logs and tyres and ropes, there was a lovely reading area where you could drink a fairly good cup of coffee and enjoy the goings on. There was clever grow your own ideas – some using pallets (but of course…) but old boots and shoes and upcycled glasshouses. There was ‘yarnbombing’ of railings and I can’t not mention the plastic bottle display (seriously you can make a glasshouse from plastic!) People donated time, cakes, books and skills for the duration of the life of the park.

It also proved that there is so much talent and creativity out there waiting to find that little ‘pop-up’ place to showcase itself, no matter where in the city, or country for that matter, that you live. That people can come together to make something that just makes things a little brighter for other people. What we need, I think, is more little upstarts to get us as a people interested again in what matters, which is ‘us’, as a people. Community, getting back to nature, trying things even if you’re afraid, writing that first chapter, scripting the play thats been in your head for years, just getting out there and meeting your neighbour for a cup of tea and chat, and using pallets for every wonderous thing you can think of (ok I had to add that in). Working together, joining together, laughing, creating and appreciating together is the way forward in these hardened times.And lest not we forget we do have a great sense of humour…

Sadly that park closes today, the 22nd of September, and this bright and colourful and most vibrant corner of Dominick Street will be returned to an unused gated wasted space. But maybe it might have been enough to ignite people into wanting more from the city and councils, more from the government , more from themselves. You never know there could be a pop up near you very soon!

Well done Upstart, don’t be gone too long!

(you can follow Upstart on Twitter @weareupstart)

One of the greatest treasures that Ireland has is the beautiful Phoenix Park in Dublin. Whilst growing up we would the park at least a couple of times a year to go to the zoo. It used to be a whole days adventure, having no car at the time it involved packing a lunch and getting the No. 10 up to the park gates.! Sometimes after the zoo we’d head over to the Wellington Monument – thinking back to us racing up the slanty slabs still brings a shiver down my back! – oh the fearlessness (or relative stupidity) of youth. But often we’d head to the Papal Cross, and the hope was always that we might get to see the herd of majestic Fallow Deer that lived in the park. We would try to move in little silent steps just to get a tiny bit closer, oh how I longed to pet them. But these were wild deer and we understood that to approach them would most likely frighten them and that was not good. A quick movement caught in the corner of their eyes would send the whole flock scattered into the shelter and cover of the many trees. So we would admire them from a distance.
However things seemed to have changed slightly over the years and the deer seem to be more used to people coming up to photograph them or just admire them, although still ever watchful. Watchful that is, to everyone else bar one man.One man and his dogs.            This man arrives in the park, not too far from the cricket grounds everyday at almost the same time. You can just sense from him that he knows this place and is comfortable here. He gets out of the car and is followed excitedly by two dogs, one older than the other and they shadow him as he goes to the boot. He opens it up, pulls out a hurling stick and a couple of tennis balls, obviously to give the dogs a good run – although running would seem to be the last thing on these rotund much loved companions agenda, but they wag their tails regardless. Now this could be pretty much the same scenario for anyone driving to the park to give their dogs, or themselves for that matter, a good walk, some much needed fresh air and relative freedom from the noise and stresses of the city, except for what happens next.

The man takes out a bag, sometimes a plastic bread bag, sometimes a paper bag and closes his boot. The two dogs happily run ahead from the tarmac onto the lush green grass over towards the trees, and before the man even starts to walk there’s movement in the distance. Something has stirred. And as though they’ve appeared from thin air, the herd of beautiful fallow deer are walking out and looking intently towards this man and his dogs. He walks on and lets out a whistle that hits many notes, not too loud or harsh sort of like a singsong whistle. The deers stand momentarily with their necks up straight and begin to walk towards him. No flinch. No fear. They gather speed. The dogs ramble pass the deer, and sit down in their company while the man reaches them and hunkers down and rustles in the bag.
He takes out a handful of cubed bread. Sometimes handfuls of oats or crushed weetabix. Sometimes carrots and apples, but everything chopped up into perfect bitesize pieces. And the deer put their heads in his hands. And he pets them while they feed, and he knows the cheeky ones that go rummaging in his bag while he’s not looking, and he knows the quieter ones that he goes over to separately to make sure none are left out. The dogs wait patiently. After a few minutes, he rolls up his bag and begins to leave them as he wanders off to finish his walk. But not before he sends out another little whistle, that to me seems to let them know he’s going and they start to wander back among the trees, to their safe place. Alas these are still wild animals, although they may seem tame, they also need to be respected. And there most certainly seems to be mutual respect between the man, his dogs and the deer.
So how lucky am I that he’s my dad, and Bug’s grandad, and that a couple of weeks ago he was able to experience something I could have only dreamed of at his age. He calls them ‘grandad’s deers’ – and in fairness they kinda seem to be…..

Kerry is beautiful. That’s pretty much all there is to it. Having spent a week there with my three babies (but without TQM as he had important cow/potato stuff to attend to) in a rented holiday home with various family members, I can honestly say it will be my destination of choice forever more. It was not my first trip to Kerry, but the last time I was there was a very long time ago. But that was a different type of visit. This time it was a proper experience!
We rented a beautiful big house in Waterville from the lovely Bernie & John and it housed 10 of us very comfortably with plenty of room to spare. As if the house wasn’t enough, the view was something else and standing admiring it whilst drinking a very welcome cup of tea (did I mention Kerry is a meeeeelion miles from everywhere??? ) got my holiday off to the perfect start. So without further ado, I’m afraid I’m going to photobomb you a bit – there’s quite a few, but each one will tell its own story……

What you are seeing here are snippets of a week filled with stunning beauty, amazing beaches (pictures are from the beach at Waterville and Ballinskelligs beach) but Derrynane beach was also fantastic (along with Derrynane house which we didn’t get to visit but looked AMAZING), there was a whole lot of cousin love – one of the best kinds of love – and not forgetting The Compass Jellyfish!!!! (one of my own personal highlights – for more information on jellyfish in Ireland I suggest you visit here!) You will also see the beautiful hedgerows that surrounded our house where I imagined little hedgehogs, hares and foxes frequented at night while we slept (we don’t have that hedgerow life here on the island).Visiting Valentia Island on the car ferry was a great day too, where a regatta was on at the harbour and we got to visit a brilliant petting farm. And the mist. I can’t not mention the mist on the mountains. I love mist anywhere, but mountains especially, and for some reason when I see misty mountains, The Mull of Kintyre by Wings plays on a loop in my head. Lets just say I was singing it constantly in Kerry!

Beautiful Kerry! There you have it. And when I heard the report on the news the other night about American Vogues photoshoot in Cork and Kerry and how great it was, I just thought to myself – yes the pictures are indeed beautiful of that there is no doubt, but its very easy to take beautiful pictures when you’re taking them of beautiful things – and thats just what Kerry is. We’ll be back for sure.

joining with Amanda today for ‘this moment’

{this moment}

A Friday ritual. A single photo – no words – capturing a moment from the week. A simple, special, extraordinary moment. A moment I want to pause, savor and remember. 

If you’re inspired to do the same, leave a link to your ‘moment’ in the comments for all to find and see.

Have a lovely day everyone

I suggest that you shake off that wanting to climb back into bed feeling and take a nice little walk. At the breaking of day, well ok, maybe a little later than that, but no later than say 6.30am, is to me the most amazing time to take a little stroll outside. For me, its the absolute perfect time for me to reflect on the beauty of the place that I now call home. Long before the boat engines start up, and before the visitors start arriving to the island, when all the birds are up and about and very vocal in their morning chorus, where the horses stand majestic against the backdrop of the rising sun and steady sea and when the beach has been washed over and looks brand new again, thats when I get to breathe deep and truly appreciate waking up early!

So go on, open that door and step outside – you’ll be glad you did.

I was reading a newspaper article today. In fact, it wasn’t even in an actual newspaper, it was in a newspaper supplement, and it wasn’t a long article either, just a short interview piece, and it wasn’t from this weekends newspaper edition, alas no, it was from May’s. That’s right. May! And from the start of May no less. It would seem I had kept this now raggedy supplement all this time because I wanted to read that one particular article, and I only managed to get to it today.Six weeks later! Now I’ve noticed I tend to do this a lot. I have a host of other newspaper bits and pieces piled about the place waiting their turn for the quick read I can afford them whenever that may come. And you see that got me thinking and brought me to the conclusion that I really miss books! In case you think I live in a house devoid of books, I can assure you the complete opposite is the case. I’ve lots of books, really, loads, and they’re all great books. And many of them are the pick up put down again types, you know, the gardening and self sufficiency ones, local wildlife and DIY, but its the other books I miss. The ones that allow you to be transported to another world. In fact more to the point, I miss the peace and quiet of time that is dedicated to nobody else, just me and my book. I can honestly say, the only book I’ve read from cover to cover since starting our family ,stopping only to make dinner,was Harry Potter and the Deathly Hollows. I remember I had one of the first copies issued as I had preordered it, but still it was nearly 2 years after before I read the thing. But read it I did. Cover to Cover.But the difference was, I couldn’t really get lost in it. In the back of my mind I was aware that there were things that needed doing in the house, with the babes, dinner to be made, animals to tend to. And as much as I wanted to lose myself, I just couldn’t turn that part of my brain off.

So today I made a decision.Next time when I’m alone in the house,or my boys are out visiting and the baby is sleeping I’m going to turn everything off. Yep. Everything! The television, radio, phone, laptop. Everything is going off. These are all time drainers I’m afraid. Hours can be whiled away on Twitter or Pinterest and before you know it the house is full of life and noise again. And I’m going to open the window and breath in some fresh air, and listen to nothing. To silence. Im going to take the time to affirm to myself that its ok to have this quiet time. That it’s ok to sit down while there are dishes to be done. That it’s ok that the clothes are out on the line and that there may be a shower coming. I”m switching that part of my brain off. Then my friends, I’m going to read!

Well dad, you know me, there’s almost ALWAYS an excuse, and this time the reason you didn’t get a fathers day card is mainly because of the crazy weather we’ve had this week (you know, island – planes – wild winds etc etc). So after you mentioned on the phone the other day how you “didn’t want any present since ‘Father’s Day’ is just a commercial day made up to make money but a nice card would do”, I decided then that even if I did end up sending you a card, it still wouldn’t say all the things I’d like to say to you. So I’m doing it here.

I remember being small sitting on your shoulders in the park, and you pretending to fall over,the utter fear as I’d grab onto your face. And now find that you do the same daredevil stuff with my children much to their delight and my despair. I remember you giving out to me the only time I ever skipped school, not so much for mitching, but for ‘doing it on my own doorstep’ (I hid in the Botanic Gardens, my school was right beside it….I obviously hadn’t thought it through), I remember the posters you used to bring me home from The Broadstone, I mean how lucky was I to have a Linda Nolan autographed picture made out to me. I also however remember the Dracula poster – not so pleasant, especially when you told me that before Dracula would appear there would be lots of eerie smoke – let me tell you, you never knew how often I thought I saw eerie smoke in my room whilst lying terrified in bed. I remember breakfast in bed, always when least expected. I remember you were with me when I went up to collect my leaving certificate results, and even though deep down I knew I didn’t do great, you said to me – ‘it doesn’t matter whats on the paper ok’ and that made me happy. I remember you covering me with the ‘tin foil’ blanket you had when we used to go to overnight fishing competitions, you always let me go with you even though you knew that as soon as it started to get dark the sandhoppers would be out and I’d be hysterical. I remember you working every day from early just to make sure the bills were paid and we never went without. I remember you made us stilts. From big blocks of wood. On top of other big blocks of wood. Not very safe, but very very fun! I remember the phonecall that told me that there was a ticket waiting from me in New York to bring me back home. I remember you removing the fuse in the house so that you could scare the life out of all of us in a game of scary hide and seek. The squeals out of us all, children and adults alike. Hilarious altogether (but not at the time…) I remember it was you who decided to ring me to tell me about Tikitiboo, knowing my heart would be broken, and how yours was when we lost Amber (Dirty Belly). I remember on the morning of my wedding before we left for the church, you told me that if I had any doubts, or didn’t want to go through with it, that would be fine, I just had to say the word and you’d take care of everything. Not of course because you didn’t want me to marry him, but because you love me and wanted me to know that no matter what, you’d fix everything and anything. And you do. Always. 

A very very long time ago, you said to me when I was going to bed one night “if anything ever happens to me, no matter what anybody says, I want you to know that I love you”. I cried that night because in my young years I thought you were going to die. You didn’t need to tell me that though because I know you love me, and I love you and you’ve shaped who I am today, and I hope that makes you proud because I’m proud of you. 

Have a lovely non commercial Father’s Day dad, and enjoy your chocolate.

Aunty Francis

Photo: MVTimes