Autumn thoughts

The summer has well and truly flown. I was waiting for the bus today, to go into Bangor, and I regretted not having lifted a pair of gloves. Even on quite bright late October days, the wind can be quite fierce. 

Here is a Kyreille poem to remind you of summer days communing with nature. 

Deliverance

Come
Walk with me
Wind will cool your brow
Stand beneath the sighing trees
Soothe your aching heart and mind
Hear the wilderness
Feel the peace
Dream

Donegal

The lake at Glenveagh Forest Park in Donegal 

The gardens at Glenveagh Forest Park

Creating Childhood Memories

The excitement ripples for weeks beforehand.  The long-awaited day crawls closer as meticulous preparations are made.  Three generations are united by one desire.

There is a bitter-sweetness to the memories of our past holidays.  Four generations setting off in anticipation of the joys of a simpler life are now reduced to three by the natural cull of passing years.  A short respite from the hectic pace of work and school and a chance to recharge the batteries spurs us on.

These long-established trips have entered family lore.  Each year we add to our common storehouse of shared pleasures and strengthen the ties of blood with shared experiences.

The music of the Spheres urges the Valkyrie conquerors towards the West.

Family Easter

When I was a child Easter was a big thing in my life.  Apart from all the chocolate, it started weeks before.   I didn't often get new clothes, but for Easter mother would take me shopping for a new "Sunday go to Meetings" outfit.    Sometimes she would have it made for me by a friend of hers and I would get to pick the material.  It was also the time when I got my summer sandals, and a new hat or bonnet.

We had a family ritual.   Sunday morning was for church, of course.   After church we would walk a mile and a half to my grandmother's for a big family lunch.   Almost everyone walked in those days, as ordinary people couldn't afford private cars.   The style was fabulous, everyone out in their Easter finery.   After our evening meal at home we would boil and decorate eggs for the next day.

On Easter Monday we would travel across the city to Belfast Zoo, two bus rides away.   The place would be thronged with people.   The Zoo was on Cave Hill, above the city so lots of slopes for egg rolling.   We would meet up with family friends and have a picnic outside the Floral Hall (a local dance hall) before returning home for our evening meal.

On Easter Tuesday we would walk 3 miles to the Belfast Botanical Gardens and the Ulster Museum.  There was a tropical ravine in the gardens with exotic birds and fish in a little river.   I loved exploring the little paths of the ravine.  We would climb to the top of the museum and walk back down through the galleries, looking at the pictures(I loved art even as a small child).   Until we reached the Egyptian gallery.   They had a mummy in a glass case and my brother had me convinced that she was asleep.   I would watch carefully to see if I could see her breathing but, of course I never did.

These days, I have my family to stay and we continue the traditions.   Sadly, the Zoo and the Botanical Gardens are no longer on our schedule as we now live too far from the city.    We do enjoy the festivities in our home patch, a local seaside resort.

This year we are having our big family dinner at my house on Easter Saturday as my grand-daughter must return to university in Cambridge early on Easter Sunday, but we will still be painting our eggs and rolling them down some hill on Easter Monday as usual.

Dark chocolate Easter eggs

In my childhood, I was an indiscriminate chocolate eater.  I wouldn't have got chocolate very often, so would eat whatever I was offered.  This meant that it was always special when Easter came around and I could often make the Easter treats last for over a month.  I would have to keep them well hidden or my older brother would snaffle this treasure trove.  

As I grew older, I became more discerning.  My early favourite was 'Nuts, whole hazelnuts' and since 'Cadbury's take them and they cover them with chocolate', I grew to like milk chocolate.  I think this was because the nuts toned down the sweetness of the chocolate.  

My godmother bought me a box of Black Magic chocolates one Christmas. 'Who knew the secret of the Black Magic box?'  Well, I found it out.  I was hooked.  I tried all sorts of dark chocolate.  In those days, dark chocolate had a much smaller percentage of cocoa solids than we have available today.  The higher the percentage, the higher the price.  I would save my pocket money and treat myself from time to time.  I preferred dark chocolate but still ate a fair amount of milk chocolate.  

White chocolate was not prevalent in the shops.  I can only think of one, The Milky Bar.  I can still sing the Milky Bar Kid advert, but the chocolate was almost too sweet for me.  I would eat it if I was given it, but my preference was always for the dark.  Fry's Chocolates Cream was a favourite with its minty centre, as was Cadbury's Bourneville.  If I was given a box of mixed chocolates, the dark ones always went first.  

I have retained this love of the dark to this day, though my tastes are much more refined now than they were.  My favourite of the moment is Lindt Dark with a Touch of Sea Salt.  The hint of salt seems to enrich the flavour of the chocolate. 

I also have a lifelong love affair with Chocolate Oranges, the plain ones, of course, which are only available on the run up to Christmas.  I have noticed that over the last few years, Rowntree's have been marketing these in egg form coming up to Easter, but only in the milk chocolate variety.  I only buy dark chocolate, these days, but wouldn't turn down a milk chocolate if it was offered.   

I would have to say that one of my other lifelong favourites has been the Cadbury's Crème Egg.  I am a dyed-in-the-wool traditionalist on the Easter front.  Who ever heard of an Easter Bunny Hunt.  Birds don't lay bunnies, they lay eggs.  Chicks, eggs and chocolate epitomise the British Easter. 

Bunnies were an import from Europe and they tasted 'funny' due to the fact that they didn't use the same ingredients as British made chocolate.  Also, chocolate bunnies didn't contain the extra chocolates inside, so weren't as attractive to the chocoholic in me.  I have a collection of decorative eggs which I display each  year on a special tree made from twigs.  They are mostly, hand-painted and many are gifts from friends.  I also use them I  flower arrangements for Easter.  I don't have any Easter Bunnies.

So my ideal Easter present would be a Lindt Dark chocolate, with a hint of Sea Salt, Easter egg filled with Terry's Chocolate Oranges.  The only way I will get one of those is to make it myself.  

Now, where did I put that chocolate egg mold and the double saucepan? 

Ski Sunday

Walking through Hinterglem yesterday, we came upon these snowboards seats. They were quite comfy. Brenda takes her ease on one of them.

This morning I watched Michael getting ready. Layer 1....

...layer 2...

...layer 3...

...layer 4...

..layer 5...

...and finally off....

...with Trevor. 

Captain's Log #Star Date 2: Thursday 6th February 2014

I am sure Southampton is an interesting city to visit, but not on a February day in a steady downpour. We were not best pleased to discover that a medical emergency near the Azores had delayed the arrival of the Good Ship Boudicca which was due to take us on a long awaited Norwegian Oddessy.  Initially, it was to be a short 5 hour delay.

A hurriedly organised spot of retail therapy amply filled the time until we could drop off our luggage. As we sat in the warmth of West Quay Centre, finishing a leisurely lunch, we were disturbed by the trill of Michael's mobile.  It was not good news.

The text told us that the bad weather had lengthened the delay. Boudicca would now arrive in the early hours of Friday morning and embarkation would be mid morning.

Our initial annoyance was partially mollified when we discovered that Fred Olsen's had booked us into a plush suite in the Marriott Meon Valley, dinner, bed & breakfast included.  The only downside is that Michael will miss his trip to the  Aviation Museum in Bodo and some of the other trips may change. All part of the adventure of cruising. One never knows what will come along to heighten the excitement.

Hey Ho! Nothing is set in stone!  We travel in hope!  An early breakfast at 6.30 am is still preferable to the 3.30 am start we had this morning.

Morning Call

The strident call awakens me from slumber.
My sleep-filled eyes beheld the ghostly glow.
The digits said the hour was very early.
With weary feet we made our way below.

The taxi horn told us that time was pressing.
The luggage filled the hall behind the door.
Alarms all set, we locked the door behind us
Intent on being adventurous once more.

Captain's Log. #Star Date 1: 19th January 2014

I have been so stoked about my trip to Norway that I have posted entries haphazardly. This is my attempt to put things into chronological order. 

My Christmas present from Hubby was a cruise in search of the Northern Lights up the coast of Norway at the beginning of February 2014.  This was something that I had hankered to do for some time so my excitement was epic.  I wrote this poem in January in anticipation of this event.  I am sure the trip will not disappoint. 

Northern Lights

My love and I are sailing North 
into the twilight zone.
Where chill winds blow, no sun shines 
endless night winds moan. 

Nor dawn nor dusk marks  passing time;
nor sunset stains the sky. 
The pale moon wanes and waxes 
as the Milky Way floats by. 

Oft the heavenly firmament 
pulsates with rainbow hues 
as solar flares bombard the earth 
her surface to abuse. 

They beat with burning energy 
upon Von Allen's belt.
This shields and dissipates the wrath,
which would be harshly felt. 

The Aurora Borealis 
lights up the Arctic  skies 
with undulating curtains 
before our ravenous eyes. 

The beauteous spectacle we see 
serves to remind us all 
that God the father does protect 
and will not let us fall. 

(C) 2014 Terri Richardson