SparkyFizz

Little Trinkets...

...of which there seem to be many lying around my home...

 

 

 

...mainly acquired in markets, cheap shops and junk shops (call it vintage if you must!)... 

Heartwarming Soup...

Gammon and vegetable soup, made from leftover gammon...

 

 

 

 

 

 

I love making soups...

Early Morning...

 

 

Spring Washing...

 

...a breath of fresh air...
 

Elspeth Thompson RIP

I am so sad to have read about the death of Elspeth Thompson...  I was very fond of her blog, but particularly loved her book...

 

...which I re-covered with wallpaper after spilling tea all over it - well used anyway.

 

The Women's Room  have today written a lovely obituary for our blogland...
 

Weekend Indulgence...

I'm not doing too well this Monday morning... accidentally erased this post from last week...  I think the gist was how a simple breakfast can be a cheerful event with personal objects.  Here I have my homemade tea cosy, favourite red teapot, and my boiled egg in my eldest son's christening eggcup.  My tea is in my husband's 21st birthday mug which is still my favourite, love the simple design and sludgy colours, and lovely feel.  I'd like to get this mid 1970's mug remade.  I'm using my Mum's silver spoon and my 1930's junk shop plates for my soda bread with just a 'little' butter and salt on my egg...  Happy Monday! 

St Patrick's Day...

To all my Irish family and friends, may I wish you a wonderful day!  

Céad míle fáilte romhat!

As a child in Burnley, Lancashire, in the north of the UK in the 1960's the Irish were a very significant minority.  My Father came to Burnley just after the war in 1948 to rebuild the damage caused.  There was no work in Co Mayo in the West of Ireland.   He was one of the thousands of  'navvies' who came here to work on building sites, roads, railways and canals.  He had intended to come to Birmingham just before the war to work on the railways, but when war broke out, this was all cancelled.  My Father wasn't involved in the army because Ireland was a neutral country.  He met my Mother in Burnley.  She had come from Co Westmeath to find work also.  

 I always wore a St Patrick's badge, typically a ribbon arrangement of a harp and the Irish tricolour flag - green, white and orange.  Alongside, pinned on my lapel, would be a large mound of shamrock.  These things were posted to us every year from relatives in Ireland, in a small padded box which I can still remember.  There was often a ceilidh dance to go to in Burnley or Manchester. 

Today,St Patrick's Day is still  celebrated in many places with large parades, the wearing of the green and drinking beer! 

Sadly these things are now quite rare in the UK,  but London does have some celebrations, especially in the traditional Irish quarters such as Camden and Kilburn.  

Chicago, of course, is renowned for such celebration - they dye their river green! 

 

 

This is possibly a more common image...

 

And a more traditional image...

 

Of St Patrick himself...

We now believe that St Patrick was born in Wales around AD385.  He had a calling to convert Irish pagans to Christianity.  His mission lasted some 30 years and he died on 17th March AD461.  He is said to have driven the snakes out of Ireland.  

The shamrock is a traditional icon, because Patrick used the 3 leaved plant to explain how the Trinity of the Father, Son and Holy Spirit could exist as separate parts of the same being.

Some amusing Irish sayings include...

'May you be in Heaven a half hour before the Devil knows you're dead...!'

'May you live to be a hundred years, with one extra year to repent...!'

An Old Irish Blessing...

'May the road rise up to meet you, May the wind always be at your back.  May the sun shine warm upon your face, and rains fall soft upon your fields.  And until we meet again, may God hold you in the palm of his hand...'

And another...

'May you be poor in misfortune, rich in blessings, slow to make enemies, quick to make friends.  But rich or poor, quick or slow, may you know nothing but happiness from this day forward...'

In translation...

Go raibh tú daibhir i mí-áidh
Agus saibhir i mbeannachtaí
Go mall ag déanamh namhaid, go luath a déanamh carad,
Ach saibhir nó daibhir, go mall nó go luath,
Nach raibh ach áthas agat
Ón lá seo amach.

In Memory...

...of George Green, aged 15,  from St Olave's Grammar School, Orpington, who died one week ago today on 09/03/10... I didn't even know him.  Yet his death affected many mothers I know, and shook our little community - RIP...

 

Mothers' Day!

I didn't want a huge expensive bouquet, I asked for a small handheld  bunch of flowers.  My children bought me some beautiful pale pink tulips, and I put them in my favourite dark blue swirly vase.  It was a lovely spring morning here in London yesterday, so I sat by the window to the garden and enjoyed my breakfast and magazine.  I feel so lucky to have four gorgeous children.  Oscar, my 17 year old, bought me this...

 

I never expected it, so a lovely surprise, and a fabulous book!  Now, this was an apposite choice, I've just started a City and Guilds Photography course... more about this foolishness later, when I have time!  

  

The pleasure I got from my youngest, Tom, and his handmade card was immeasurable...  I will keep it forever, along with my stash of handmade cards over the years.  My girls bought me lots of  yummy chocolates, but during the day, we scoffed the lot - such pleasure!  An even greater pleasure was watching my twin girls perform in a classical concert in the evening with the local youth orchestra, they play flute and saxophone... wonderfully.

Amidst all this joy my mind keeps wandering to a truly terrible incident in my boys' school this week.  A 15 year old boy took his own life...  how can this be?  I didn't know the boy, nor did my sons, but nevertheless, the incident is haunting me.  Is it simply a case of  'There but for the grace of God...' or is it something else?  I just can't believe that this child was so badly failed by everyone around him.  How is this possible?  I keep asking myself.  Moreover, it isn't just me.  I've spoken to many mothers who didn't know him, who tell me they feel the same as I do.  

As a natural cynic concerning Personal, Social and Health Education in our British education system, I'm beginning to wonder if perhaps I'm wrong.  Do we simply not listen to our teenagers, or even bother to ask them how they are feeling?  Do we treat their concerns as trifling issues, and hurry them along and brush them down, urging them to get on with things?  I confess, I find it hard to understand that a young teenager, apparently quite normal, can have such depth of feeling and inability to find anything worth living for...   I can't stop wondering how his mother got through Mothers' Day yesterday, and I feel deeply humbled and count my blessings from the bottom of my heart...

 

Alas, life meanders on.  Today I am in a panic.  I have not one, but two German exchange students coming to stay with my girls for a week!  I can't speak a word of German, which doesn't help, but I know that German teenagers speak excellent English.  Phew, thank goodness someone makes an effort, not the Brits, that's for sure!  I do know that it's snowing heavily in Munich, and they are going to arrive to a fabulous day in London, with temperatures rising to the dizzy heights of 15 degrees this week!   

Now, so much cleaning and tidying to do... and what do Germans like to eat for breakfast?  Should I cook them traditional Engish food in the evenings?  What if they don't like it?  What if they're homesick?  One thing is for sure, I shouldn't be procrastinating here, now should I?

Just to keep me on my toes, in a weak moment, I offered, yes, offered, to host a Leaving Party for up to 40 Engish and German teenage girls on Friday night at my house...  Oscar thinks I've completely lost my mind this time!

Oh, yes, and sometime this week, before Thursday, in fact, I need to produce photos for my course on the subject of 'hands' - don't know where I will find the time...

Don't forget to hug your teenagers when they come home this evening...