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‘How long are you home for?’ said my cousin last week when I was over in N. Ireland.   In fact several of my cousins asked exactly the same question.  It might seem like a strange thing to say someone who has not lived permanently in Northern Ireland since 1980.  Not to me. Home is still the village of Ballyronan where I spent the first 18 years of my life.  I’ve been in Chester now more more years than that and still don’t feel I fully belong here though the house where we now live feels more like home than any previous dwelling - I don’t think we’ll be moving again.

Because of the pandemic I’ve not been to Northern Ireland for nearly two years. Last week I travelled back there with Kate and her boyfriend to stay with my sister in Dromore. We were joined by my youngest  sister and her family, also over from England, so there were 10 of us in total. As this was Calum’s first trip to NI we did a few touristy things. We stayed a couple of nights in Portrush on the North Coast. On the first evening we walked into town along the West Strand.  Lots of people were in the water in defiance of grey skies and drizzle though many were wearing wetsuits.  Paddle-boarding is very popular over there at present and someone was kite-surfing, performing a series of impressive aerial twists and turns.  We didn’t join the brave beach crowd but went to the Harbour Bar instead.  I tried  not to worry about the crowded restaurant and high coronavirus infection rate in NI. Got totally drenched on the way back to my cousin’s apartment where we were staying as the rain had really set in by then. Typical Portrush weather. 

Giant portion of fish pie in The Harbour Bar 

The next day the sun shone and we went to the Giant’s Causeway, ignoring signs en route saying it was ‘fully booked’. This simply means that the visitor centre experience is fully booked and you do not have to go there or pay anything apart from the car park charge to visit as the footpath is a public right of way.  It was beautiful there and the youngest members of the party, my twin nephews, enjoyed climbing the rocks by the most precarious route. We all climbed the steep Shepherd’s Steps and walked back along the cliff path. Wildflowers - little blue harebells - and butterflies and the glorious view. Nowhere like it. 

We then returned to Portrush where NI sister Sylvia got out her paddle-board and went into the chilly Atlantic along with 12 year olds who didn’t have the benefit of a wetsuit. The rest of us watched for a while and then Kate, Calum and I went for a walk up the town.  It hasn’t changed that much with slightly grotty amusement arcades and cafes. The White House, a department store selling stuff you’d see in John Lewis, is still open, and there are now a few art galleries and upmarket coffee shops. . Sadly, Barry’s, the funfair which was the highlight of our childhood visits, has now closed. 

We also went to the Titantic experience in Belfast later in the week, completing the cruise-ship-tourist-type experience of NI for Calum’s benefit.  Very interesting though really it’s just an exhibition with the addition of a kind of ghost train ride which tries to create the sights and sounds of the shipyard. 

One of the best parts of the visit was going to Ballyronan and catching up with cousins there.  We also had a job to do.  We have rented out our family home in Ballyronan to someone who is going to open a cafe - much better than leaving it empty.  All the furniture and contents of the house had been moved to the old farm buildings in the yard.  We needed to sort it all out, a sad task but one which could longer be put off. Nothing has ever been thrown out - there was the old kitchen furniture repurposed for storage in what my dad called the ‘bench house’.  We found the dolls’ cot he’d made my sister and a doll which had once belonged to my aunt, now in her eighties.  My wedding dress, a ghastly 80’s creation with frills and flounces,  was there too and my mother’s much classier dress, as you can see below modelled by Kate and her cousin Hannah. Then there was a full set of school reports for all five sisters which entertained the kids for some time.  In the end I quite enjoyed the day as it brought back good memories.  

So I no longer have a home to go to in Ballyronan.  I will be returning though. Down the road at the nearby marina the council have installed these smart floating cabins which will soon be available to rent. I quite fancy a holiday in one of these. 

Far from the Madding Crowd

 It’s almost two weeks since our holiday in Dorset so thought I’d look back to sunny days there on this rather damp Friday by sharing some pictures.  This was a last minute choice. Usually we book holidays well in advance, choosing the location carefully. This time the filters on the booking website chose for us: pet friendly, near beach, near shop/pub, couple of bedrooms. Not much available, but we hit lucky and found this cottage in the village of Burton Bradstock which was just perfect for us. It wasn’t much fun getting there with busy motorways followed by windy, single-track roads which made the dog sick. Paul’s blind faith in sat nav directions can have unwanted consequences. 

The landscape reminded me of parts Northern Ireland, gentle hills, very green, patchwork of small fields.

 

We were close to Hive Beach which was busy during the day but quiet in the evening.  That week was dry and sunny and the heat didn’t start building until after we left.  There was a beach cafe which did very good if rather pricey breakfasts. 

Alfie enjoyed his holiday.  We stopped taking him on this route to the beach because of the warning signs about adders.  

Kate and Calum came with us on our holiday. I persuaded them to go on a visit to Abbotsbury Gardens with me. Lovely garden but many biting insects which feasted on my bare legs. I spent the next day in a Piriton-induced haze. 

Paul and I visited Chesil Beach one day, both having read Ian McEwan’s novel. We were a bit underwhelmed.  It’s not really a beach at all,  but a steep-sided gravel bank which is separated from the mainland by a shallow lagoon. There was a good view of it from Abbotsbury Gardens. 

We made one other literary pilgrimage - to Thomas Harry’s cottage- which, as it turned out, isn’t that far from the ‘madding crowd’ these days: we got stuck in horrendous traffic on the way there and nearly missed our slot.  I persuaded the National Trust lady to let me join the group late and it turned out ok as I missed what seemed to have been a very long talk before the actual visit. Very pretty and interesting place.     I’d spent the week reading ‘Under the Greenwood Tree’  and this cottage, where he wrote the book, is described as the home of the main character. I wouldn’t recommend the book - not much happens - a minor courtship and a subplot about some church musicians.  Paul, not a fan of guided tours of any variety, waited for me in the garden. 

Most days we did very little though. Cliff top walks, reading, meals out in the local pub. It was exactly the kind of holiday I like. I’m looking forward to the next one now - going to Northern Ireland next week for the first time in nearly two years. 

 

July Birthdays

 

It’s a whole month since my last post and it’s been a busy one.  Life has been more like it was before corona with visitors staying, meals out, a holiday and birthday celebrations. And all this with a puppy who is still waking us up at 5am - I’m ready for a quieter week or two now.

Paul turned 60 on the 1st July and we had a small gathering in the garden to celebrate the  Saturday after.  It was a lovely day catching up with friends and family, his and mine. The sun shone - for a while. And then it rained.  Very pleased we’d anticipated this and borrowed a gazebo.  The football brought a rather abrupt end to the party.  I got a bit grumpy then as I was left with the clearing up while everyone else disappeared to watch the match.  That was the one they won.  Didn’t care much when they lost the final but felt a bit sorry for Gareth Southgate and his young players. 

Three of my sisters came to the party so it was a kind of post-pandemic family reunion. Though the fourth sister is still in COVID-free New Zealand, missing her biennial visit to Europe for the first time since she emigrated in the early 90s. NI sister and her husband stayed for a few days - first time I’ve seen her since October 2019.  Kate and I are planning to visit her in Northern Ireland in early August if the pandemic allows. Current numbers and the fact that double vaccinated people still can get ill worries me a little. 

Last week we had a proper holiday too, finding a place to rent near the beach in Dorset.  I’ll write a separate post on that later this week and share some pics. While we were there Kate got her results.  The hard work paid off and she got the first she was hoping for.  Very pleased for her and very proud.  Unfortunately she won’t have a proper graduation ceremony. Sheffield are doing an online version instead and she’s not going to bother.  Can’t imagine many will. What’s the point of sitting through speeches etc if you don’t get to walk on stage in a robe? We’re going to do our own celebration.

Then yesterday was my birthday. I’d booked a couple of tickets for an afternoon production of Pride and Prejudice in the park for me and Kate.  It was very enjoyable even though we had to sit in full sun for the first 15 minutes or so til the sun moved round to roast other spectators.  Did feel for the cast in full costume, especially when they had to dance.  As we’d just got back from holiday we didn’t want another meal out so we sat in the garden as it cooled down drinking the rhubarb and ginger gin which Kate bought me topped up with ginger beer. She also gave me a jug/vase which she’d painted herself, a throwback to her primary school days. Paul bought me a birdsong clock which has a different birdsong each hour. I love it’s but the rest of the family aren’t so keen.

June Catch Up

 

I am neglecting the blog again.  It’s been a busy month.  I’m still working hard on my garden and starting to see the results.  All that ‘organic matter’ seems to have worked it’s magic and the poppies are spectacular this year.  Unfortunately the puppy considers any lump of horse poo still visible as a tasty treat. I’ve given up telling him to ‘drop it’ as he just goes back for more and it doesn’t seem to do him any harm. I draw a line at him bringing any into the house though.  At present he is asleep while guarding the chew I’ve given him to stop him biting my ankles - he’s teething and likes to chew everything including us. His chew is a called a bull’s pizzle, a euphemism for the particular part of the bull’s anatomy which is dried and sold at an extortionate price as a doggy delicacy. Yuck!   

I have now added a fan trained Morello Cherry Tree to the north facing wall on the patio so I’m reading up on how to tie in the shoots to help it keep its shape.  There’s also been a lot of watering to do recently as, after nonstop rain in May, June has been very dry in Chester, with no rain at all for weeks.  It’s been bucketing down south but not here so I’m pleased that a thunderstorm and heavy rain is forecast for tomorrow to fill up my newly installed water butts. 

Other news since my last post is that I’m back teaching again.  I’m tutoring an online adult course for the WEA in Creative Non-Fiction.  I’m enjoying it despite some initial reservations about the technology.  The students are from all over the country and are a more diverse group than the one I used to teach face to face.  Everybody seems to have responded well so far and they are working well as a group.  

That’s it for now though may add some more garden photos later.

Here we go!

Peas are doing well this year. Broad too though noticed today that black fly have moved in,

Bought a new pot for the canna lily and it is thriving.

Tomatoes are enjoying the sun we’ve had recently

There are flowers on the courgettes which I grew from seed for the first time.

Self-planted foxgloves

This is a weedI think but left it as it looks nice. Anyone know what it is?

First flower on Eustacia Vye Rose

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May....ing

Another chilly damp morning, rather typical of this year’s disappointing May.  Here’s what I have been up to.

Puppy rearing.......which is hard work.  We have an arrangement.  If Alfie wakes in the night, and he usually does, Paul gets up to take him for a wee and settle him. Then I let Paul sleep when we are woken again around 6am and do my shift.  Just like having a baby to care for. He’s growing fast and into everything. 

Adding ‘organic matter’  to my newly dug borders. As my own compost is still full of bits of half rotted veg and intact avocado skins, I purchased a bulk bag from a local supplier and was surprised at how expensive it was. My father would be horrified at how much I spent on what resembled the contents of the dung hill (pronounced duch- ill)  on our farm in Ballyronan.  There are lumps which are distinctly horse poo shaped.

Enjoying the relaxation of the rules.  I’m not that bothered about shops but it so good not to have to shiver outside any longer when meeting friends for coffee.  And I’m very happy that Storyhouse, our local library/cinema/theatre is open again.  I’ve booked to see this play next weekend.  Not that sure what it is about but it has had good reviews. 

Reading Ishiguro books.  I read ‘Remains of the Day’ a few years ago along with Kate who studied it for A level and wasn’t terribly keen on it. I wasn’t either but thought it was well written.  There’s been a lot of hype about his latest book ‘Klara and the Sun’ so I got it from the library and also borrowed ‘Never Let Me Go’, which friends had recommended.  Both of these are kind of visions of the future - the narrator is an AF (Artificial Friend) in ‘Klara’ and a cloned ‘donor’ in ‘ Never Let Me Go’.  He doesn’t really write full Sci-fi though as the worlds he creates are not that different from our own. He focuses on exploring the emotions of the characters, especially the narrators.  I read an interview with Ishiguro in which he said that he feels he writes the same book over and over again. Initially there seems little to connect ‘Remains of the Day’, the story of a butler in England in the 1930s, with ‘Klara’ or  ‘Never Let Me Go’. But thinking again he has a kind of formula.  First person naive narrator, lonely and isolated and disappointed in love/friendship, victim of uncaring society/ corrupt regime, prepared to sacrifice his/herself for others,  I enjoyed ‘Klara and the Sun’ the most, finding Kathy the narrator in ‘Never Let Me Go’ a bit irritating with all of her dull digressions.  Klara, with her good girl, uncomplaining,  people-pleaser behaviour and her naive faith in the healing power of the sun, is a more appealing character to me.  A bit like me actually,  I suppose. The characters in all three novels seem to accept their fate rather than fight for what they want and this makes the books ultimately rather disappointing.  

Celebrating from afar, my youngest sister’s 50th birthday.  Displaying her indifference to advancing years, she completed an ultra-marathon last weekend. That’s 35 miles.  Pretty impressive. She was born on my mother’s 40th birthday so, if she were alive today, this would be her 90th birthday. I’m sure she would be very proud of her youngest daughter if she could see her now, meet her three children and hear about her marathon and her career success. 

Chilling Out

 In charge of puppy this morning while Paul is out on his bike.  After a rather manic phase where he was running around the kitchen chewing things he shouldn’t and biting Paul’s legs before he left, he has fallen asleep on me. . So I’m trapped here. Oh well - nothing I need to do that can’t wait. 

Gardening Genes

I’m finding as I relax into retirement now that the thing I’m doing most is gardening.  Whereas some of the other things I signed up for such as, for example, the course ‘The Novel and the City’, feel like a chore, heading out to the garden to do even mundane things like weeding and watering are enjoyable.  It’s being outside, the smell of the earth and watching things grow, how the seasons transform a dull patch of soil into a riot of colour when the tulips emerge. 

I reckon it’s in my genes: both my father and my grandfather were keen gardeners.  My father specialised in tomatoes grown in a makeshift greenhouse attached to the byre; my grandfather was an expert in soft fruit - strawberries, raspberries and blackcurrants - which we helped to pick as children, eating as many strawberries as we could before they were made into jam.  I succeeded with raspberries last year. Strawberries are trickier - I think they need better soil and more space than I’ve got. And this year I’m trying some new heritage varieties of cherry tomato.  The Sungold ones I grew last year were delicious.  I haven’t got a greenhouse so I’ll try some outside and some in my summerhouse. And hope for a sunny summer.

A couple of weeks ago I went on a garden design course at Lane End Cottage Gardens.  I was hoping for  a bit of advice on what to plant in the bed under the holly trees.  What I have ended up with is a much more ambitious plan.  Richard, who was the course tutor, is very enthusiastic and last Sunday he arrived with his spade and proceeded to dig out shrubs and tree roots and to remove ugly slabs of concrete from an overgrown bed in the centre of the garden.  He advised me to plant apple trees there. And to put a fan trained Morello Cherry on the north facing brick wall by the back door with a redcurrant on either side.  I’m hoping for plenty of summer puddings.  

On Friday I hired some help to cut up the tree roots and do the heavier digging.  Then I’m doing the planting myself.  I have bought from Richard’s small nursery, a Star Magnolia which I’m planning to add to the newly extended flowerbed facing the kitchen. There are other shrubs to plant to provide all year interest.  So I’m going to be busy. 

Before

After 

After from the other side showing the ‘terracing’.