Day one of cookery camp and Little Miss Nine is raring to go! Motivation levels on a scale of 1 to 10? Definitely 10. So far so good. For the next five days Little Miss Nine will be cooking under the instructions of Chef Jeffers from Forestside Cookery School – by video link.
Stephano has a week off work, so he’ll be here to join in the fun (and the supervising).
To get the fun going he ‘reluctantly’ put on an apron and a chef’s hat. Little Miss Nine made it clear that this was her gig and not his. Off with that hat Stephano!
Because trick or treat is cancelled this year, we decided to make a huge Halloween effort for the child’s sake, and get all dressed up, even agreeing to let Little Miss Nine paint our faces.
Our day was planned down to a tee. Big breakfast, make apple tarts with money hidden inside, cover some apples with chocolate and marshmallows. Then set up some games; bob the apple and all those old fashioned games that we played as children.
Just before Stephano got his face painted he went to Supervalu for his wee supply of Guinness. While he was at the checkout he overheard two men talking about the how quiet things were for Halloween this year. As they rambled on, it dawned on him that we had the wrong day; it wasn’t Halloween at all. We were a fecking day early!
Well, that was yesterday, this is today! Take two! Little Miss Nine got over her disappointment and watched a couple of horror movies instead. She got up this morning with the same enthusiasm as yesterday. Not so bad! She’s a little annoyed that trick or treat won’t be happening, but she’s looking forward to a fun day of playing old fashioned games.
We didn’t have trick or treat in the 70’s. We didn’t have pumpkins either – we had turnips. Was pure torture carving out a turnip.
Knocking on doors and running away was the best craic. And even better when we got a chase from the dad of the house. The best place to hide was on the back lane where it was dark and surrounded by tress and hedges. But you had to go in pairs or small groups…unless you didn’t believe in ghouls and banshees! Everyone believed!
Sometimes a parent or older child hid in the dark room upstairs, ready with a bucket of cold water. Unless you were super quick at knocking and running, you got a good soaking. It was all in good faith though and no child or parent ever got into trouble. Sure it was all a bit of craic!
A trick I remember the older boys doing was stealing gates very late at night and hiding them in the fields or in the old Church graveyard. Many poor dads had to go searching for their gates the next morning.
We didn’t buy masks or costumes either. Everything was home made. Every household had a spare white sheet, an empty cereal box, boot polish and a black bag. Yes…you were either a ghost with a cardboard face or a witch with black polish smeared on your chubby cheeks.
Party food for us and our friends was apple tart, fruit and nuts. I don’t remember getting sweets, no more than usual at least.
And of course we always had a bonfire. One big one in the field in front of our terrace. Children from the area spent a week or more collecting wood, old furniture, even tyres. When the day finally came, the children traipsed up and down the field carrying all their burnable odds and ends. Adults helped out too.
It was so exciting watching the pile grow higher and higher, and the thrill of watching it being lit. Everyone cheered and sang as the flames roared and black smoke billowed up into the dark sky. It was my favourite part of Halloween night. I can imagine the stink of us going to bed that night.
The bonfire days are gone now, understandably. If you steal gates you’d get arrested, and you certainly can’t chase children up dark lanes to scare the bejaysus out of them! And God forbid if you drown the neighbour’s child with a bucket of water.
You can’t beat having good friends. Two of my reliables, Friend A and Friend B, invited me to Donegal for the weekend. They said I needed a wee break. Aw, they’re just lovely…so they are. When I told them I couldn’t afford to take the time off from my writing they were very understanding, and offered to spend the weekend helping me. Continue reading →
It’s all well and good sitting at the laptop with my morning coffee, looking out at the snow peaked Mount Nephin, waiting for inspiration for my next chapter (or blog post) – but it gets cold at this time of year. And I’ve noticed this winter that the coldest part of me is my legs.
It’s too early to light the fire and I can’t be putting the oil burner on every hour of the day. Some mornings I’m wearing so many layers that I look like a human wardrobe. But I love winter time. Woolly jumpers and even woollier hats are two of my favourite things.
I came up with a great idea! Legwarmers. Back in the 80’s nobody had cold legs; because they wore their legwarmers. “Where have they gone?” I asked myself. Then I asked Google. Found some. Ordered them. Received two days later. #bringbackthe80s
I love that I don’t care!
I love them! Okay, they’re not the sexiest things but do I care? Not really; but I did whip them off one day when the plumber arrived. Legwarmers look cool when they’re on a red hot dancer. But when you’re in your house wearing a dress with black tights and a poncho – not so cool.
Saphirra and Mohotma had a great sneer when they saw them! Those two are always laughing at my clothes. Saphirra is the biggest sneer! One night she called my lovely red coat a blanket. She loves it really, but she won’t admit it.