I returned to a small bit of writing here last week, and I am happy that I did. I like using Blogger to get my garden thoughts out of my head. However, I spent some time during the week trying to understand why I stopped writing for such a long time. There are several reasons, one of which relates to Blogger itself. So I moved all my garden furniture and tools over to another place on the other side of the street. While I was at it I renamed the blog to The Three Hairs.
Of course, I will be leaving my garden memories here. I will not delete them, but going forward my little stories will be over at The Three Hairs Garden and my life blog at The Three Hairs and I hope you might like to join me at either or both.
One of my first posts there explains in some more detail why I moved, and the story behind why I chose The Three Hairs for my new writing arena, and I include it here by way of clarification and fun:
"Where did the name of my website The Three Hairs come from, you ask?
Youth hostelling with 6th class in Glencree in early eighties was MAGICAL… they were a great class, bubbly and interesting. One evening, after sausages & beans, a brave girl was pushed to deliver a message… I could see she was giddy yet nervous…
“Can we tell you your nickname, sir? Will you be cross?”
“I don’t know until you tell me”, says I.
And she hesitated and they all giggled madly.
“Well… OK. Your nickname is… Baldylocks and the Three Hairs.”
And she looked right at me hoping it was OK. Everyone was hushed, and I figured I’d think about it for a few seconds longer than necessary. Poor kids didn’t know whether to laugh or cry. Then I just burst out laughing! “Whoever thought up that name should get no homework tonight,” I says. “But it’s Saturday,” they all sighed. Those were the days teachers could bring kids away on trips. My memories of Wicklow are amazing."
Regards,
Baldylocks & The Three Hairs (aka Páraig)
So, it's goodbye from here. I'll be travelling over to the other side of the street. See you there!
Last week my local garden centre opened for the first time since late March, and I was anxious to join the queue. I bought two trees, and managed to get them home safely in the little Toyota. They are both Sorbus apucaria, commonly known as Rowan or Mountain Ash. One is planted to break the view of the gable end of Marion's "Seomra". It's not a good time to plant a tree, but I will watch it very carefully to give it the care it will need until winter.
The following two days gave the tree its first test. There was a Met Éireann Wind Warning in place and it proved to be remarkably accurate. The tree was buffeted over the entire two days, but survived. I had staked it correctly, yet I was amazed to notice that even though the tree was being blown to about 45 degrees, it was not damaged.
I am reminded of how strong human beings can be when they are being tested by traumatic life events. What gives us this strength? In some cases, it may be in the genes, but I would think that much of our inner strength comes from the support of others.
There's an old Irish saying that goes: "Ar scáth a chéile a mhaireann na daoine." A rough translation is that we live and thrive by sheltering on the shadow (support) of others.
Finally, I do love a good quote. Someone who said something which others found to be worth writing down to pass on to others, that I in turn want to pass on to others. I normally use Goodreads as my source, so I searched for "tree". My favourite one is:
A man has made at least a start on discovering the meaning of human life when he plants shade trees under which he knows full well he will never sit.
The likely origin of the proverb is from a volume of moral writing by a quaker in 1951. There are several variations of the same idea.
I hope to care for these lovely trees for quite a while, and leave it to someone else to sit in their shade some fine day long in the future. He or she might even write about it.
Added few hours later:
I dedicate this tree to Romina Ashrafi, a young Iranian girl killed by her father, apparently by decapitation. Romina had run away from home due to threats and abuse from her father, and she was returned to her home by the authorities.
According to the neighbors, Romina knew that if she returned home, her life would be in danger. She had warned the police and judicial authorities and she was unwilling to go back, but the police returned her to her home anyway.
Romina had fallen in love with a boy in their city. Her father was arrested for honor killing and the investigations into her murder are ongoing.
According to the Sharia law, only the “blood owners” (the immediate family members) are allowed to demand execution for the murder of their loved one, therefore most honor killings go unpunished or with little punishment since the family will not demand the death sentence for another family member.
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About the author: Páraig (also known as Pat) is the author of Petals by Párag. He loves trees, Goodreads quotes and old Irish proverbs. Furthermore and also, he likes Met Eireann forecasts, writing again after a long rest and natural justice, but not sharia law hohour killings.
