Girl1 is in her element. She is surrounded by friends, learning and having fun. She is in a beautiful place, and isn’t even bothered by the steady drip from the skies (she’s been well prepared by time in the caravan).
I worked hard at being a grown up and didn’t do the full on octopus; I’m saving that til she gets home. Instead I did gentle hugs, arm over shoulder, head kisses, arm and hand squeezes. The poor child had to go play in the sea to escape. It’s a wonder Spurs Fan got near her at all.
We did a beach and lunch, and then another beach, a graveyard, icecream and back for play practice.
The graveyard wasn’t part of an attempt to make her glad to run away from the bosom of her family, but it had that effect.
Odd, that.
This bleak and beautiful spot, right on the edge of Europe, is where a set of great grandparents, great aunts and great uncles and great amounts of relations I’ve never known, rest their weary bones. It’s filled with tight rows of the dead of the parish, for generations.
And right there, between the gaelic pitch, the golf course and the beach, along the wall, lie some unknown dead, not of the parish. Soldiers and seamen whose wartime work killed them and brought them here.
Men who, whether they left from Schleswig or Southampton, are unlikely to have imagined ending up amongst our ones.
me, mine, and other bits 
Poor mum, her first little baby has found wings. Not long to go and she will be back in the nest and under your wing again. Remember this is only the first of many
She had a ball, and returned safe, sound and totally exhausted!
Wait until Girl 1 and 2 are sixteen or seventeen and you are waiting discreetly at the window until they get in. Glad she’s happy and having a great time.
what is this ‘discreetly’?
‘an so it goes’ -growing up, motherhood and the lost then found. Makes one think? A unique and personal write which you excel at every time.
Thank you Hudson. Certainly unique- none of her friends had a graveyard visit on their day out 🙂
We mothers never really cut that cord. Give the girls their wings, your trust and your love, then they will always fly back! Half way there already!
It’s good to have us all together again. Operation ‘wake mummy up’ this morning involved both girls rolling about the bed, lots of laughing, and Spurs Fan sitiing on the end of the bed, adding to the chaos by playing music videos loudly on the ipad. Good stuff.
lovely…
It was a good day- belonging, not belonging, moving on, and lots of laughing
That came through so clearly, Fiona. I was brain-tired when I commented, but I wanted you to know how you’d broken through for me. Thank you.
It’s good that the unknown war dead are remembered, even though their homes and identities were never discovered.
There are about half a dozen war dead, most identified, and with appropriate ciphers on the grave stones. Nothing for this guy. I remember hearing tales of German airmen being buried there, but there are no graves marked as such.
You are a good mum, Fiona. I love the photo of the three of you with Jake.
Between the wind and the giggling, Andra, it’s a wonder I was able to find a pic to show you at all!
Sounds like a magical day. The grin on Jake’s face says it all. The girls look wonderful…Girl 1 must be having a whale of a time!
“totes amaze”, Kate. Apparently she can now do text speak in Irish as well. An essential skill.
Those photos are beautiful – the landscape is so raw and stunning, and you all look so happy!
Welcome, Regan 🙂 I don’t have the Irish, but I feel very at home there. These are the beaches against which all others are judged!
I hope you are recovering from midsummer…
This made me think of Van Morrison and the Chieftains Your Own Ones, http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=lyK6f9NZXdw nearly the intro for Mother’s funeral, but we decide on the more upbeat I’ll Tell Me Ma in the end.
I’d forgotten about that one Isobel- great tune, but, for being able to make it through the funeral, I’ll Tell Me Ma was a good choice!
We left to Bach’s Sheep May Safely Graze which was played at my parents’ wedding and also at my father’s funeral. At the crematorium, we followed the coffin inside to Danny Boy, and left to You Could be Happy.
Several years ago Mum had said she would like something from the Irish Heartbeat album at her funeral, and she loved I’ll Tell Me Ma.