I'm at home looking after the house and the dog, with Peter, as the parents sun themselves on the hallowed turf of Majorca - God bless the sun worshippers. They always go to Mass every morning there just to make sure they're covered for the rest of the day! After that, (clap) bring it on ... Me, I'm spluttering up flem with that indefatigable way I have, resolutely getting a cold in May and proving that Nature doesn't favour my cause. I'm going to recover, get my breath back - literally - and then do some reading. But it's good to be home, and head of the house for a while. Good to see Peter, and I feel rather fatherly with respect to poor Buffy - our dog, by the way, not the flimsy starlet - oh, I do hope that wasn't a Freudian slip. I got to see Juliet Turner on Sunday with Fionnuala (that's you, if you're reading!) the sunset in our eyes as we watched in attentive awe. Such a pure, strong voice singing those words into the Belfast air, almost like a vent of beauty vibrating its way about town. Though I'm not sure too many people took any notice.
So much has happened in the last week I won't even begin to comment on it. It has been so bitter sweet that it is hard to put any words on it at all; a time of endings and beginnings; the best of times, the worst of times. So I'll just therapeutically send off a poetic strain into the universe, cryptic and therefore secure. This blog has become a sort of confession box, but a strange one where I pretend that I don't have any sins at all. But that is a state devoutly not to be desired, for as Natalie Merchant wrote 'who forgives sins that never were committed?' Spring becomes summer silently, and relationships change organically. Who can understand the dimensions of the heart which feels too much or too little with its own inpenetrable logic? I can see that if there is to be an error, I'd rather have it in the too much direction and be true to what I find there. For what has been bitter this week:
May hopeless heartbreak flow in the rain
Without a rainbow into that hallowed drain.
2 comments:
Yes, I'm reading! I liked the reference by name...Hope the house is still standing by the way! I forgot to give you another copy of Eimear's CD - I will try to remember to bring one to our drinks event next monday with our international friend! Until then, or until a sooner date if possible, take care and get rid of that cold!! F.
Hi Finn, it feels so good to get a comment! Reminds me there are humanoids out there who react to my existence. I was wondering if Monday night might be able to be had in our back yard - perhaps a barbeque or such, dependent on the weather. The reason being Francesca is coming up for a couple of days to visit from Sunday night to Tuesday, or else I would need Liam to be very understanding and to drive on a school night. I'll talk to Davey babes and see if a deviation to the plan would suit. You do know that that's his birthday ... This is of course dependent on whether you could yourself drive on such a night. Anyway, I'll ring around and test the pulse of the common man. I'm glad you remembered about the CD. I'm stilling planning on setting those words to 'Longing for the Land'. Such a beautiful melody. I'll do my best with the cold, pesky cold. My energy is coming back in spades anyway. Talk to you! S.
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