Abominate.

We sit, a table between us. A table as wide as a chasm, littered with paper and pens, laptops and resentment. I, his mother am both torturer and inquisitor and he, my son is both victim and student.

We are fighting word for word a compulsory foreign language. We are despite the animosity and dread working towards the same thing - I am trying hard to be a proper Asian Tiger Mom which goes so against the grain and he has built a huge wall around himself.

Oh don't get me wrong, we are still a united front, as soon as I shut the book and he puts down the pen, we revert - instantly and I mean INSTANTLY back to our normal harmonious selves. Me a bossy mom and he a flippant teenager.

But, at this very moment I can feel his displeasure as I ask him again in my faltering lingo a set question. His reply is equally hesitant and uncomfortable. I hate what I am putting him through - putting us both through.

Roll on Thursday evening when we will both be free of this despised subject and he can study more contentedly his other assignments which he loves and I can return to my books - both our deadlines draw near and I know I am not ready.

History at my feet

Sea tumbled bricks and stone.

Round edged.

Sea defenses. 

After the bombing of Liverpool during the Second World War bricks and rubble from people's damaged houses and damaged lives, were swept up and piled on the sands of Crosby beach. This 'waste' was being put to good use as a sea defense. Now more than half a century later the debris of history is still protecting the coastline from the ravages of winter storms.

We had parked above the beach and wondered at the stones and bricks as we picked our way down to the sands. Himself enlightened us to the details and I immediately felt different. This rubble was not just well - rubble, but it was little chunks of stories - homes and houses, sadness and war damage. We knelt down and looked a little closer. Pieces of kitchen tiles, corners of belfast sinks, bricks, tumbled clumps of concrete filled with pebbles and gravel. We didn't find anything outstanding - like some of the items shown here on the 'Collateral' blog - please follow the link and see some amazing photos, however, just knowing where these little lumps of detritus came from - made it all the more poignant.

Later, in the 1970s, more building spoil was added to the 1940s blitz damage. I searched on the internet about this little monument to post war survival and was saddened to read a lot of comments indicating how little anyone knew about them. A lot of folk thought that it was dumped rubbish. Fortunately after a lot of digging, I found some wonderful sites explaining the real reason behind these sea washed bread roll shaped bricks.


That little brick stump that Youngest is photographing now lives in his room with his cactus. I couldn't resist taking a picture of him taking a photo of 'his' brick.

Another Place

 Silently they stand. No eyes, unblinking. Crusty iron skin flaking. Unyielding, immovable. 

 

 Reflected in both the sea and the sky. Standing tall.

 As the tide retreated, more appeared.

A giant of a wooden day mark 

New towers and old. 

I walked near this huge edifice - intimidated by it's gigantic scale. 

Our last outing of our holiday. Antony Gormley's 'Another Place' Strange, intriguing, magical. We visited nearly all of the 100 figures. Each man standing nearly 6 foot tall and weighing 650 kg. Some stood tall and other semi-submerged in the icy blue sea.

For more images and more detail - Another Place

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The magic of spring

As I write this, my mug of tea quietly steaming next to me, the skies are leaden and sulking - in stark contrast to last week when we were drenched in warm spring sunshine. 

I am already missing my days of endless blue sea and skyscapes and wild flower filled rambling lanes.

Tiny violets mirror the colour where the sea and the sky merged into one - only visible when I squinted and now when I shut my eyes and dream.

 Sweetly scented, the nodding heads of primroses quietly carpeted the sunny banks along wooded lanes.

Eldest found a bumblebee busily foraging and knelt down patiently photographing as the bee buried it's face deep into the violet's pollen drenched stamens

A magical moment, watching the bumblebee, feeling the sun on my shoulders and hearing the sea scrunching on the rocky shore. If I concentrate hard, I can see, feel, hear it all again. 

Wild strawberry blossoms were just beginning to show their faces

 

We were able to just discern the early scent of the first bluebells as they began to open

It's not only the scent and the sight of wild flowers that I am missing, it is the scrunch of shells beneath my feet and the feeling of scratchy sand between my toes 

Along the coastline, secretly growing orchids, their regal purple flowers and freckled foliage tucked in the coconut scented spiny gorse. Perfect protection.

Blackthorn blossom and gorse flowers 

There is magic in spring time - a palpable feeling of promise and anticipation. 

Such a positive pleasure after a dreary winter.

I know the turning of the seasons is natural however, 

some parts of that seasonal wheel I love more....

Brew any one?

Last year Himself gave me a brilliant gift - something I'd wanted for a little while. He bought me a 'Kelly kettle' (Huh? I hear you say) A 'Kelly kettle?'

Soon after I had unwrapped my pressie, the weather turned nasty and winter followed soon after. My kettle languished in it's box quietly until this year when we unearthed it and gave it a very successful try out.

The delight of having a piping hot tea next to a small crackly fire on the beach or half way up a hillside must rate as one my all time walking pleasures **.

Somehow tea made and drunk in the open air after a walk tastes so VeRy MuCH BettER ! - what do you think?

Well, our week off together has gently ended. We have had some wonderful sea-air filled days and some lovely walks. I  happily got some knitting done (not to mention that I even managed to squeeze in some study time!)

How was your week?
Managed to get some crafting/study/tea making done?
Did you breathe in some gloriously salty sea air?

I  do so love to hear what you get up to :)

xxxxxxxxxxxxx

**Promise that we are very fire conscious

textures and reflections

 

 

I am endlessly fascinated and inspired by the shapes driven by the movement of the tides. Reflections of sky and wave washed wood - achingly beautiful, almost haunting.  We walked across the hard ridged sands occasionally sinking to the ankles into small secret gullies of soft silt. The evening sun gave the whole bay a strange magical feel to it and the water was icy icy cold.  We were lingering..... we didn't want our day to end.

Think we need to go back. Soon.

In which I actually feel ALIVE!

Soothing, breaking one by one,
Peaceful brushing on the shore
In crescendo and then back down
My soul is asking for much more


- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

Sea, sea sea sea sea sea
Sea, sea sea sea sea sea
Sea, sea sea sea sea sea
Sea, sea sea sea sea sea
Sea, sea sea sea sea sea
Sea, sea sea sea sea sea
Sea, sea sea sea sea sea
Sea, sea sea sea sea sea
Sea, sea sea sea sea sea 

Aufie Zophy 1964

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Oh my beating heart, the sound and the smell and the colour of the sea. 

The clear blue air and light are incomparable.

What a wonderful day.

********************************

We got up early, packed some all important essentials, 'padkos' (road food), cameras, walking boots, maps and of course my 'in-car-entertainment' - knitting! Oh the pure enjoyment of being able to knit more than a row at a time.

By late morning we had arrived up in Galloway and delight of delights - we had a second breakfast on the BEACH. The boys had already been on holiday for a week while Himself and I were still languishing at work, so this brief break was fantastic.

Last year when I took the boys on a holiday without Himself - as we hadn't been able to coincide our breaks -  the three of us had a wonderful (if a little breezy) walk around Colvend. This time all four of us repeated this lovely airy ramble along the coast line.

 This time the spring sunshine was so gloriously deliciously wonderfully warming as we lay back on the cliff edge. The gulls were screaming overhead, the waves scrunched and sploshed against the rocky shore and a small fishing boat chugged along through the twinkly blue sea.

 Himself and Youngest rock-hopped down to the shoreline and their silhouettes looked quite tiny against the huge expanse of the sea.

It felt like I took a gazzillion photos (in reality it was in the hundreds) but I won't bore you with them all, just a select few over the next few postings.

Aah - I felt so ALIVE lying against that cliff side with the sea undulating around the coastline and the sky soaring above me. A short break - but oh so so very rich and rewarding to the soul.

I must thank you for you lovely lovely comments recently - it's wonderful to receive them, they make my heart squeeze with pleasure especially as recently I've been a bit remiss with my posts.

Tomorrow I am having a study day - Himself is taking the boys and the dog and heading for some serious hill walking - something I can no longer do :( hey ho........Still,  all play and no study makes Hawthorn a dull brain!!

What has made you feel alive this week?
What are you having to knuckle down and do despite not really wanting to?
Have you been seeing more blue skies than clouds? I certainly hope so - it just seems to make things so much better!