Showing posts with label St. Patrick's Day. Show all posts
Showing posts with label St. Patrick's Day. Show all posts

Thursday, 17 March 2016

Thursday, or Thereabouts - March 17, 2016

As sands through the hourglass, so are the days of the March Break...



School teachers and students along with their families are scrambling to squeeze out every last moment of fun in these last few days of this annual school break. The pressure is on to do more, to have more, to be more - relaxed? rested? renewed?

This old curmudgeon wonders if the hype about making this week all about family and fun, is a bit overplayed, overworked, overdone. I'm all in favour of fun family times, but I'm also a big believer in downtime: no pressure, no program, no duties.




Back in the day when I was in grade school - I did warn you that I'm a curmudgeon right? - the Spring holiday was tied to Easter. This of course meant that it was a movable feast, occurring anywhere between the last week of March and the last week of April; anywhere between icy snow pack and blooming daffodils. The hype, if you could even call it that, went to the tune of "Hear Comes Peter Cottontail" (Gene Autry) alternating with "Easter Parade" (Judy Garland and Fred Astaire). I hopped my way along the pastel bunny trail in the short week preceding the holy days, hearing stories about chicks hatching, solving arithmetic problems about jelly beans and making crafts that all began with cotton balls.




The first four days of the school break were all about family preparations for Easter. There was silverware to be polished, rooms to be cleaned, and food to be cooked. Though not fun in the sense of play, these chores were good family times, full of laughter and stories. After the Easter egg hunt we all headed off to church Easter Sunday morning to sing the great hymns and inhale, choke, sneeze, and/or nearly faint from the fragrance of umpteen dozen Easter Lilies.

Easter Break 1958

Then it was home for the grand feast celebrated with all the family gathered around the dining room table. Monday all we could do was sit around recovering from all the food and festivities. Tuesday Dad went back to work leaving Mom to cope with three kids, chocolate bunnies, jelly beans and hard boiled eggs for four days. We each found our own space and activity. Cardboard boxes became trains, planes, boats and automobiles. There were blanket forts in the living room, colouring books and maybe even a new pack of crayons. If we were really lucky, the Bookmobile came to the bottom of our street and we tagged along with Mom to find more great stories.  And it was grand!

Easter Break 1966

In 1968 the March Break replaced the Easter week holiday in Ontario. At first it came in the last week of March but later moved to the mid point where it now is. My Dad did not take the time off, very few parents could or did. By this time I was in high school and as best as I can recall it was a week of total downtime. I slept in a lot. I watched the afternoon soap operas (The Doctors, Days of our Lives, Another World), and not much else. It was a good break from school. Was it fun? Well not wildly, but I did enjoy the open space. Family time? What's that?





When I had two children of my own in grade school, sleeping in remained a primary feature of the break. Once again there were blanket forts in the living room, colouring books and new crayons. I made special lunches - grilled cheese, hotdogs, toad-in-a-hole, mac & cheese (not Kraft Dinner®) and more. We went outside every day in all kinds of weather and one or two afternoons were spent in front of the TV watching movies from the local video store, over and over again. The big treat was a trip to the movie theatre to see the latest family offering from Disney or Hollywood. It was a good week and it didn't break the bank.





The 21st century March Break looks very different. All the advertising suggests that though it is about family time, it is to be enjoyed anywhere but at home. There are opportunities near and far to fill every waking hour with every kind of activity, much of which seems to assume that both parents have the time off and that money is no object. The pressure is on, the crowds huge.
Hurry up and relax!






I need my downtime in copious quantities. I always have. I am a true introvert married to a true introvert, with two introvert children. It's not good, it's not bad, it's who I am. Not everyone needs all the quiet that I do, but all of us at every age need some time to ourselves, away from the gadgets that ring and beep and flash and crash; away from bosses, parents, siblings and friends; away from oughts and shoulds; at home with who we are.






Before this March Break is over, let yourself (and your kids) play in the daydream world of simple things - cardboard boxes, blanket forts and colouring books, grilled cheese sandwiches, and walks in the world outside the front door.

No batteries required!


Oh, and Schwartz says:
Happy St. Paddy's Day!







©2016 April Hoeller

Monday, 17 March 2014

Monday Moanings - March 17, 2014

St. Patrick's Day - A Hearty Menu

Dublin, September 2007

Irish stew, soda bread and a pint of Guinness - as grand a meal as one would wish, especially when winter just will not let go and there isn't even the remotest chance of seeing any green foliage, let alone a four leaf clover. We didn't wait for today but made our feast last night.

Right at home in the Guinness Brewery, Dublin, September 2007.

Beef browned in bacon fat, joined carrots and onions in a bath of a pint of true Irish brew, then simmered in the slow cooker all day long, before being dished out into deep bowls. Thick hunks of fresh baked brown soda bread mopped up the hearty broth.

All that's left today - brown soda bread and an empty can, or three.

Twas grand indeed - and about as Irish as we can get. But then again I spent many a childhood summer immersed in the "Irish Riviera" that is Breezy Point, New York, AND one of the ancestors married a maid from County Meath. Yet I'm still thinking all that is not enough to lay claim to shamrock blood.

Still you know, as wee ones my sisters and I (and even my wee folk) were lulled to sleep by a mother's voice crooning An Irish Lullaby, made famous by Bing Crosby in the 1944 movie Going My Way.
Over in Killarney
Many years ago,
Me Mither sang a song to me
In tones so sweet and low.
Just a simple little ditty,
In her good ould Irish way,
And l'd give the world if she could sing
That song to me this day.

Chorus
"Too-ra-loo-ra-loo-ral, Too-ra-loo-ra-li,
Too-ra-loo-ra-loo-ral, hush now, don't you cry!
Too-ra-loo-ra-loo-ral, Too-ra-loo-ra-li,
Too-ra-loo-ra-loo-ral, that's an Irish lullaby."

Oft in dreams I wander
To that cot again,
I feel her arms a-huggin' me
As when she held me then.
And I hear her voice a -hummin'
To me as in days of yore,
When she used to rock me fast asleep
Outside the cabin door.
1914 James Royce Shannon

Mom also taught me "All Through the Night" and I sang it to her on the few last nights of her life with us.
Sleep, my child, and peace attend thee
All through the night
Guardian angels God will send thee 
Floor mosaic St. Colman's Cathedral in Cobh, Ireland, Sept. 2007

All through the night
Soft the drowsy hours are creeping
Hill and dale in slumber sleeping
I my loving vigil keeping 

All through the night.  
While the moon her watch is keeping
All through the night
While the weary world is sleeping
All through the night
O'er thy spirit gently stealing
Visions of delight revealing
Breathes a pure and holy feeling
All through the night. 
Hark, a solemn bell is ringing
Clear through the night
Thou, my love, art heavenward winging
Home through the night
Earthly dust from off thee shaken
Soul immortal shalt thou awaken
With thy last dim journey taken
Home through the night.

Cobh, Ireland, September 2007



And I can still hear my Mom and Dad singing any time of the year "When Irish Eyes are Smiling", "I'll Take You Home Again Kathleen", "Cockles and Mussels", and so many others. Back in the day, no gathering of the clan large or small was complete without the singing of "Oh Danny Boy" accompanied by a few toasts to absent friends.

Today I'm celebrating the music, and the family that sang whether along or together, in good times and in bad, come wind or weather.

May the road rise up to meet you.
May the wind always be at your back.
May the sun shine warm upon your face,
and rains fall soft upon your fields.
And until we meet again,
May God hold you in the palm of His hand.

Slainte mhaith!


©2014 April Hoeller