Today was May Day; it was bright and sunny: real sun, real warmth! Two years ago, this month, my granny passed away. A few weeks before that, I had made a May altar- the first time I had made one after years of saying I would. There is just something lovely about May altars: I remember when I was small in school the nuns always made a great deal of May Day, we would have altars and songs and nature walks. Today I **delighted** my children singing the song we sang in school: “May is the month of Mary, the month we all love so well”! I thought my pious warbling sounded, well, beautiful, but after a few renditions (I can only remember the first two lines, and not even sure if I have those correct) I was begged, begged, to stop. No appreciation, those children.
Anyway, at my granny’s funeral, the priest spoke of how, every May, her whole life, granny made a May altar. I didn’t know that. So now for the past two Mays, I have dusted down our ancient Mary and nestled her between flowers and other interesting bits (by the end of May, she will probably be peeping out from a towering pile of “things” that have accumulated in front of her).
(The cards are birthday cards for Fergal and I who celebrated our birthdays at the weekend- he being the more ancient by one day. The beautiful candle stand and candle was from my friend Susan, who just showers me with lovely things. The amaryllis is just about to flower)
I got my organic vegetable box this week, I try to buy as much locally produced veg as I can. I bought some delicious purple sprouting broccoli, green cabbage and spring onions, which I sweated in some butter with garlic and a pinch of chilli powder, then tossed in some pasta and served with locally grown salad greens and an avocado (sadly, not Irish) It was perfect for this first day of summer.
A moist chocolate banana bread was being steadily devoured all day…
Cows back in the fields and three new brown hens… they are as eccentric as our other three, and the second they see any of us, a chorus starts… Grace reckons they are saying “Where are our treats?” in chicken language. Between the cats (permanently whining for more food) and the chickens, I’m feeling under pressure…
Michael was making more of his little toys- they are outside most of these warm days playing games with creatures called “Packabocky” and “Muckachoo”. He makes them from gloves, and stuffs them with bubble wrap so they float. Today they had an epic adventure in this old green jeep that once belonged to my brothers, and there were several life or death incidents for the glove creatures involving water. And lots and lots of muck.
Summer, oh I love it.