The four of us set out for a walk, mostly to keep mommy sane! Wellie boots on, I put the baby in the ego carrier and my two and three year old in the double buggy. “Look Momma, that mud puddle is a heart!” My daughter says in her childish wonder. As I walk the streets near our home I am reminded of God’s goodness. I am so thankful to get to live here in this beautiful place. It is 51°F /11°C; for a short while the sky was mostly blue and the rain stopped. “What’s that smell?” My son asks and I take in a whiff of slurry…not a pleasant smell, but one we’ve become accustomed to living here in the country next to a cattle farm. The grass remains vibrant green but leaves have yet to return to the trees. Daffodils are beginning to poke their brilliant yellow buds out here and there along the road. Often they line fences along the roadside for the pleasure of those passing by. This week a few ducks returned to the pond after their winter absence. The children delighted in watching their antics when we gave them bread. Spring in Ireland is so lovely.
We stopped for a minute to talk with a friendly stranger. He said “you’ve done your part to multiply the population” when he saw my little brood of three, three and under. Then went on to tell us that he was one of thirteen siblings and had five himself, “back in the day when there was too much religion and not enough contraception.” I gently reminded him and myself that “children are a blessing from God and are so precious.” We left smiling.
The baby fell asleep before we passed our “windy castle” an old ruin near our house that my daughter has named.
As the clouds roll in and the grey covers the sky once again I am grateful; grateful for my babies; grateful for little glimpses of sunshine, wonder, childish enthusiasm, and friendly strangers. This is Ireland.