M is for May, Mary and Memories.

When I was little at school we always had a May alter to Our Lady, Mary. Each day we would bring in flowers and not necessarily garden flowers but daisies and buttercups or weeds if they looked pretty. We placed them in front of her statue. Then we would sing Queen of the May or some other hymn that honoured Our Lady. It was a simple but beautiful ritual each school morning.

Ballinspittal grotto

I remember having my own little alter at home, with a small statue of her and put my offerings of a flower from my mother’s garden in an eggcup that acted as a vase! Most homes then had their own alters and some still do.

It is an age old tradition in Ireland to visit a grotto or shrine in honour of Our Lady three times during the month of May and ask for her blessings. It is something I like to do and a few days ago, although late in the month, I went with some of my family on our trip to see Our Lady.

Our first port of call was to Ballinspittal, Cork. This beautiful grotto was in all the media in 1985 when there were reports of the statue moving.

Bandon

Whatever you believe it is a lovely grotto to visit. We had our picnic with us and sat at the tables there in glorious sunshine and had our lunch. We moved on to Bandon and up the steep hill to St. Patrick’s church, where we lit a few candles in front of Our Lady’s shrine.
Then on route home we paid our final call to the local Blessed Well in Ballyhea, Charleville. It really is a secret garden and a place of peace.

Ballyhea, Charleville

We usually make a day out of this old tradition and stop off in various towns along our route to shop and look at places of interest. This year we stopped in Innishannon and who did we meet but the lovely writer Alice Taylor, author of so many popular books, her latest being The Gift of A Garden.

Courtesy of The O'Brien Press

After our chat with her and asking her to stand in for a photo hadn’t my batteries in the camera died a death but hey the memories live on.

Happy Writing 

Inspirational Dreams

We all dream. Some of us can recall every detail, others not one iota. I'm the former
Where dreams are concerned, I can bring back a dream I enjoyed and continue it! Thankfully I very rarely have an unhappy dream and when I do I take note!!
So being a dreamer, is this a pro for my creative side or does it have any bearing at all?
For me, yes, it is a plus. My latest dream involves a beautiful little baby, wrapped in soft white blankets. The small bundle was sleeping alone snugly on my parents bed. Creeping closer to look at this baby I instantly knew it was a boy and his name was Joseph. What struck me most was the impact it had on me.
I know this baby. I have met this baby, this baby is mine, not one of my four children but another baby. This feeling was so strong it woke me from my sleep.
So who is Joseph? What is his story?
This tiny young man has stayed with me in a strong way. His gentle sleeping face is crystal clear in my mind.
Why was he alone? Why my parents room? Is he an angel from a miscarriage? Has Joseph been abandoned and waiting for me to care for him?
So much to consider. But patience shall play its part and Joseph will no doubt reveal all in his own way.
Happy writing.

Chicken Bones and Vodka

It is November 2^nd, minutes after midnight, only just. Depending on the time zone you are in. Inspiration for this blog post came unexpectedly.

I was returning home to the beautiful smell or as the posh people may say the aroma of roast chicken. My nostrils absorbed this rich smell as I stepped in my front door and I immediately wanted to feast. Obviously so did my dog Buster! He was waiting for me by the stairs even though I’d put him into his bed before I left. I was only gone out to next door but had cooked the chicken earlier for dinner, a warm chicken salad which I enjoyed immensely. Having a salad in winter may seem daft but I am trying to eat healthily a bit more.

Certainly is winter outside tonight, it is frosty and so cold. The stars twinkled at me as I hopped the wall coming home. The sky inky blue and so clear of clouds. So putting Buster back in bed, grabbing a chicken leg, (I did say it smelt great) and a vodka, I hit for bed with my book.

That’s when I thought of it, Chicken bones and vodka!

I shared a great evening with 2 friends and neighbours and this is the result. Being a writer I thought why not? Others who are scribblers like me have these moments and we need to share them. The fact I’ve not written a word for the past 3 weeks is another story. Have you ever scrubbed and cleaned until your fingers curled by themselves and your wrists are so sore they are in fear of snapping? I have. Right now I wince as my fingers tap my keyboard.

But honestly roast chicken and vodka is not a bad combination. So enjoy your odd cravings and embrace what crosses your path unexpectedly. After all that’s what life is about. Be inspired and happy writing!