Full Circle

It's been another year where my offerings here have been fairly thin on the ground, but this is still my place to come when I want to look back and reflect, if only for my own amusement. 

Having lost my elderly grandmother just before Christmas, 2019 began with a funeral and return trip to my hometown. The funeral was actually a very uplifting start to the year as most of the family came together for the occasion, and I met with cousins I hadn't seen in more than ten years. In the fortnight that followed we had a snowfall and made our first snowman of the year. This was swiftly followed by my thirtieth birthday in February. My parents came up for the occasion and even took care of the children for a day so Sewel and I spend the afternoon in Edinburgh and see a performance of Les Miserable in the evening. 

Winter turned into spring, and there were more birthdays to celebrate, as Ever turned three and Moth five. The school term was rapidly coming to an end, and in June we went on holiday to Mull with my parents. We spent a wonderful week exploring the island, as well as taking day trips to nearby Iona and Ulva. Then the summer holidays truly began, with many fun-packed days at home with Moth and Ever, including a first cinema visit, and a night spent camping in the garden, followed by ten days in the East of England visiting Sewel's family. 

The school term was underway again before we knew it, and suddenly we found ourselves with three hours to spare each morning as Moth started school full time and Ever attended nursery part time. We have watched both children flourish in their new routines, especially Moth who joined the Additional Needs class and never looked back. He was even presented with the Head-teacher's Award for learning to read, in November. 

Autumn also saw Sewel relaunching our candle-making business, after receiving notice that his office would be relocating to the city centre in the new year. Not wishing to undertake a longer commute to a job that he finds boring and unfulfilling, he has decided that he will leave and run the business full time. We are in a good position for him to do this and hopefully 2020 will see our business continue to grow successfully.

We have just returned from a lovely Christmas with my in-laws in the East of England. One of the main reasons we chose to return for Christmas was that Sewel's grandmother had grown incredibly frail, and we knew it would be our last opportunity to see her. We actually stayed with her for the week, which meant we could take care of her, not that she really wanted much at all, as she was barely eating and drinking. She passed away the day after we returned to Scotland, so it looks as though 2020 will begin in much the same way as this last year come full circle. Hopefully, though, getting the family together to celebrate the life of a very special woman, will prove to be an uplifting occasion that sets us in motion for 2020. 

A Week on Mull

A month ago we drove up to Oban and caught the ferry across to Mull for our family holiday. While a much larger island than Bute, which we visited last year, the population is less than half. The roads are mostly single-track, and areas of civilisation are quite scattered across the island, giving it a much more rural feel. We stayed in a lovely holiday let, which was set back from the road and surrounded by woodland, but with a view through the trees across Loch Cuin. We watched the sun setting over the water, and I was completely taken away by the beauty and tranquility of that moment. 

I think the first day of the holiday was our favourite. We spent the first part of the day on a beach further along the coast, and then stopped at Croig for the "Sometimes Annual Daft Raft Race" that Sewel and I had spotted advertised on a poster. It was quite a spectacle and certainly proved to be an interesting experience, even as a mere spectator. We watched as an array of rafts set off from the shore and raced to the pier further along. We followed their progress on foot and were there to meet them at the other end. We were completely drawn by Croig, and were struck by the view of what we believe to be Rum in the distance.

We visited Tobermory twice. The town, with its iconic colourful houses set along the seafront, is the setting for the children's television programme Balamory. Moth and Ever loved visiting the aquarium, which was small but still kept us occupied for over an hour. We enjoyed the touch-pool session and Ever was brave enough to hold a starfish. We also did some souvenir-hunting in the wide range of touristy shops, and were also able to stock up on food supplies at the local Co-op. 

We spent a day driving all the way to the South-West point of Mull, where we caught the ferry from Fionnphort across to Iona. It was nice to spend a day exploring a little of the island and getting a feel for it, although we didn't venture into the abbey, with two small children in tow. We spent another day on another small island called Ulva, which has a population of just five people! It would certainly be an experience living for a time in such a remote place. 

We visited Duart Castle, although this was a little challenging with the children as they wouldn't let us hang around for long, ever eager to move on to the next room. Because we shared the holiday with my parents, Sewel and I were able to go out for a meal together one evening, which was a real treat! At our encouragement, my parents joined the Staffa tour on the final day. We decided against it, as we weren't sure about how the children would react to the three hour boat trip. When my parents returned they said the trip was one of the highlights of the holiday for them, as they had been lucky enough to see a pod of dolphins during the trip. 

Apart from the Staffa trip, which we'll save for a later date, I felt we ticked everything off our Mull "bucket list", and really got a good overview of the island. We all really enjoyed the week, especially Moth and Ever, who coped with being away from home and in a different environment much better than they did last year. 

 

A Long Year

2018 started dismally for me. Normally I begin the New Year feeling positive and energised, but this time I set myself quite ambitious targets that quickly unravelled. I had high hopes to finish writing my book, and realised early into the year that finding the time, inspiration and energy was never going to happen, while simultaneously raising a family and trying to bring some order to our project house. At the end of March I broke with the project I had been working on for five years, and apart from dabbling with a couple of new ideas have written very little all year.

 

2018 began with a long winter, although the first days of spring came early in February, giving us false hope. The weather wasn't set to change until several weeks later. At the beginning of March we made a sizeable snowman, though one day at the end of the month, the children ate their dinner outside in their coats. 

Once we were into April the winter was quickly forgotten, and our spirits thawed. In June we spent a week exploring the Isle of Bute, and could easily have left our coats and jumpers at home for we had no need of them. Having long dreamed of visiting the Scottish islands it was a delight to take in the first and truly begin our adventure. 

The soaring temperatures seemed to affect the wildlife. We saw notices on Facebook about what to do in the event of spotting a hedgehog in broad daylight and never thought we would have the need to aid one of the prickly species, until late afternoon, one day in early July when Sewel spotted a young hedgehog wandering in our garden. We gave it water and brought it inside, keeping it warm as we had been advised, until it could be collected by the SSPCA. 

We got away for a few weeks at the end of July, and into August, taking our annual tour down South to visit Sewel's family in the East, and then my family in the South-West. We returned for the start of the school term, and Moth returned to nursery for his pre-school year. Watching my little two grow throughout the year is always a highlight. The Autumn was quiet, our stream of visitors in the spring, followed by our travels in the summer, now over. We concentrated our energies on household projects and finally completed our living room in time for Christmas. 

Although I haven't updated my blogs much I started writing in my diary again after a long absence, and I've found a great joy in capturing day to day moments forever in words. And being involved with a monthly book group has meant I've read plenty: 46 books in total, which for me is an achievement, at least when compared with recent years. I believe my break from my writing project was long overdue, but I hope it is something I will fall back into in the coming year, along with candle-making, blogging, and reading, which goes without saying!

Suddenly

It takes only an eight letter word to signify the rapid decline of a situation. We saw her just a month ago, on our return visit, and she seemed the picture of health. I didn't think for a moment that it would be the last time I would see her. 

Perhaps that's why yesterday's news came as such a shock, even though we heard, just over a week before, that she had received an unexpected diagnosis, the severity of which had not been established at the time. 

No further news came to us until yesterday. I was halfway through writing her a letter, one that I was confident there would be time to finish later, and maybe others still. That letter will never be sent now.  

The geographical distance makes it hard to take in her absence. Her face, with its radiant smile, surrounded by a wave of frizzy grey hair, comes to mind so easily, an image that I fear will be more difficult to summon with the passage of time. 

We only knew her for five years, but we saw her at least once a week in that period. Being part of a small church congregation was like having an extended family, and she was like a favourite aunt. She came to mean a lot to us.

As worship leaders, we would sometimes arrange services together. I remember fondly the autumn afternoons spent in her kitchen, helping to clean up bric-a-brac for the church bazaar. And several of us joining together in her sitting room for afternoon fellowship.

The last time I saw her, she was standing in the doorway with her husband, waving us off after our visit. That was only a month ago. 

And suddenly, she went away from us. 

I take comfort in my faith that I will see her again. But that doesn't lessen the sense of loss I feel now.

First Visitors

They arrived eighteen days after we did, and on their departure, they had been with us for a third of the time that we had ourselves lived there. 

I wasn't sure that I was ready for a ten day visit from my in-laws, but they were doing us a favour after all, by bringing up our second car. 

And for all the chaos of our newly moved state, it was pleasant spending time with them. In ten days we made memories that could not be made over a cup of tea, once or twice a month. We were able to explore and share a whole new world together, and watch the children bonding with their grandparents and uncles. 

And such a joy it was to behold the care and attention of Moth and Ever's youngest uncle, and in return their delight in him. As the time progressed I saw the youngest uncle lay aside his electronic device more frequently, and instead lose himself in the games of his nephew and niece, just seven and nine years his junior. Moth would call for him, searching the house for his new playmate, and it was his hand that he sought when we were out for the day. 

But as enjoyable as the time was, their departure came with a sense of relief. My in-laws have a tendency to fill up the space around them, something that my claustrophobic self has found difficult over the years. I often find myself closing up in their presence, making myself smaller in order to accommodate them better. That evening Sewel and I basked in the stillness again, thankful for the memories but equally grateful for the calm and space that followed.