daybook

Posted on June 17, 2014 by Kim Halloran-Fry

Today's highlights:

6:30am: My husband woke me up after his P90x.

7:15am: I am dressed, have tossed protein bars into my purse, filled to-go cups, and we get in the car to take Aidan to the hospital for his surgery.

8:45am: Aidan heads back for surgery. Husband goes to get us coffee and I read my book. I just finished a memoir by the daughter of a famous actress turned new age guru which I won't link because though it was a powerful and enlightening (pardon the pun) read, it was super Shades of Gray-ish. At least I am guessing it was, having not read that. My current book about a journalist turned 1930's Mexican senora could not be more different. It is a breath of fresh air and my faith in humankind is restored.

11:30am: called to recovery. (I won't post an 'after' but suffice it to say he no longer looks so chipper. Upside is he no longer has a deviated septum nor a pair of enlarged tonsils and with any luck he will be breathing normally again soon.)

1:30pm: heading home to begin the first of the post-op irrigations we will be doing 4 times a day for the next two weeks. Good thing I have a strong stomach…

2:00pm: Aidan is settled on the couch with meds. Husband does some work from home so Moira and Tess and I go out to get groceries. On the way we pass an old house getting a new thatched roof and I remember I want to get a pic of this process but there is no good place to pull over.

4:30pm: The available kids unload groceries and help with chores. I mop and wipe down the kitchen, bathroom and laundry room because it seems the sensible thing to do right at that moment. The logic escapes me just now. ; )

5:00pm: Kids run around out in the sunshine while we do another irrigation with Aidan.

5:30pm: I roast beets and sautee cabbage and sausages. Crusty bread is sliced for the grain eaters. Moira makes some jello and Kieran makes some popsicles for Aidan.

6:30pm: We gather everyone (but Aidan) up again to eat and say the rosary around the table. Alannah comes home from work and gets on the treadmill.

7:30pm: Moira and I take the dogs out to walk a few miles. On the way out I notice the whatever-it-is (bird? it is happening in the hanging baskets too) that has been messing with the potted flowers is at it again and I go back to ask Kieran to tuck the plants back under the soil.

8-9:00pm: Walk. It's that time of year where we dodge the sprinklers as they spray over the farm road. And we hear a loud animal from the woods in the distance that sounds for all the world like very, very loud kittens, but it is not that. (After two yrs we are still trying to identify!)

9:00pm: A neighbor who knew us and where we lived (but whom we did not know) stopped us to ask if we had seen her little dog. We are told he is a small black terrier and worries her to bits. He is terribly naughty. She knows he wants to run and play, but it's a worry. They are a worry aren't they? Such a worry, she says. Such a worry. We promise to keep an eye out.

9:15pm: Home again. Aidan needs meds. Girls have pj's on and we brush teeth. Brendan comes down in his pj's to see could he please have one of Aidan's popsicles before bed (yes ; )) I tell Abbie Rose it's bedtime and Mommy is sleepy and she sagely recommends I go to my room soon. Soon. I should do that….

9:55pm: Husband and Aidan are watching a movie. My tea is steeping. It's almost "soon."

Proximity

Posted on June 15, 2014 by Kim Halloran-Fry

We are now up to date with Call the Midwife. Those who are fans know the last season ended with an exchange between a nervous expectant mum and a coworker, a grandfather who had no good role model when he began his own parenting journey many years earlier. Instead of expounding upon deep paternal philosophy he offered just this, that in the end it really boiled down to proximity. Staying in the game.

This is it, I believe. We are so very flawed. We did not have perfect examples and we cannot be perfect for our children either. We can, however continue to be there, to walk alongside them down this sometimes - often – messy road.

poppies

Posted on June 14, 2014 by Kim Halloran-Fry

"Let us suppose that it is summertime, that you are in the country, and that you have fixed upon a certain day for a holiday ramble. Some of you are going to gather wildflowers, some to collect pebbles, and some without any very definite aim beyond the love the holiday and of any sport or adventure which it may bring…"

Sir Archibald Geikie

You can keep time by the flowers here. First come the snowdrops, then the daffodils, and after, the tulips. About then the apples trees bloom. As they begin to fall the lilacs burst out. The rapeseed fields have their day in May.

Then come the poppies. Along the fences, beside the grain fields, clustered on embankments lining every country road. Like the rest they won't last long but right now those orange-red fragile petals are quivering in the wind at every turn.

{this moment}

Posted on June 13, 2014 by Kim Halloran-Fry

{this moment} ~ A Friday ritual. A single photo – no words – capturing a moment from the week. A simple, special, extraordinary moment. A moment I want to pause, savor and remember.

more moments at Amanda's

rest

Posted on June 9, 2014 by Kim Halloran-Fry

“Rest is not idleness, and to lie sometimes on the grass under trees on a summer's day, listening to the murmur of the water, or watching the clouds float across the sky, is by no means a waste of time.” – John Lubbock

easy as pie

Posted on June 8, 2014 by Kim Halloran-Fry

Dear Rhubarb, I don't think I appreciated you nearly enough as a child. Perhaps I took for granted that every backyard in the nation had a leafy patch of sour red stalks in the spring. Time and transience proved that wrong. It has been many years since a brown bag with neighbors' abundance appeared at the door. So should an early summer grocery trip turn up some fresh rhubarb we gather it up and make a memory pie.

My crust is never as good as Gram's, nor as good as Alannah's for that matter. The filling however was incredible and easy:

2c rhubarb

1c raspberries or strawberries

2T flour

1 beaten egg

1c sugar

Those are mixed together and poured into an unbaked pie shell. Then 1/2c brown sugar, 2T flour and 2T butter are mixed well and crumbled over the top. Into a 400 degree oven for 15min and then the heat down to 350 for 30min more.

Next time I will likely forego the crust entirely and make a crisp with a streusel topping like this one.

{this moment}

Posted on June 7, 2014 by Kim Halloran-Fry

{this moment} ~ A Friday ritual. A single photo – no words – capturing a moment from the week. A simple, special, extraordinary moment. A moment I want to pause, savor and remember.

more moments here

Late spring daybook of sorts

Posted on June 4, 2014 by Kim Halloran-Fry

right now…

Seasonal rec league soccer just wrapped up.

I am between novels. Suggestions? Barbara's looked good. While talking with Rebecca she made a good pitch for Count of Monte Cristo . Hmmm

There is pie cooling.

There are breakfast burritos in the freezer. Aidan and his dad are working out before work in the mornings, which makes people hungry. Very early.

I am enjoying the peace of mind that can only come with owning a new vacuum cleaner. That peace of mind replaced the initial horror of emptying the canister the first time and realizing the old vacuum really REALLY wasn't working.

Talking to the landlord has netted some interesting history of our house. (the house we live in -which is his house actually) While the plumber was measuring for a new shower to replace the 60s era olive green one, the landlord was saying the house was built by 'Sir Henry Bombry of horse racing fame. You know Sir Henry,' he says. 'He was good friends with Mr Darby and they favored a flat race. They wagered over whether the flat course would be named after one or the other of them and the other guy won.' Now, truth be told I still get lost here and there and sometimes am not translating properly in my head. I heard 'Bombry' and 'DARbee'. After asking for spelling I realized that was Bunbury and DERBY, like Kentucky. Duh.

Ok, long story short I am still not sure which Bunbury built the house. The horse guy appears to have been Charles who did have a brother named Henry who was an illustrator but did not wager over horse races. The family owned much of the land locally – like miles of it. Our landlord's father was born in "the village" down the road. Me: there is a village down the road? yes, says he but you Americans might not recognize it as a village. (truly, you wouldn't, perhaps due to the absence of street lights, sidewalks, stores, or houses in close proximity…) He bought this house which he had eyed while growing up and our landlord was then born here.

And now I am here typing in the parlor. It is all very incredible really.

Moira-made bows. Big sisters rock!

Sunday drive

Posted on June 1, 2014 by Kim Halloran-Fry

We took a little spin this afternoon and I thought I would share some snaps.

I do so love red geraniums and lace curtains. There appears to be a tiny German flag over the door. I am wondering if that explains? At any rate it made me happy and a little homesick for Germany.

"Fast food" has not caught on in Europe. There are some fast food chains in the big cities but everywhere else you sit and eat on real dishes. If it's "fast" then some of your food may have been premade or some containers may be disposable. By and large you will sit and eat. Then you will return your tray with your dishes and flatware. That is 'fast' food dining, as compared with served meals.