Crossing

(TNJ16)

I think we are all crossed out of it at this stage.

We have however raised a few bob for Medical Aid for Palestinians selling crosses at the centre and at the Pike Deli in Clonakilty. Rachel, Laura and myself did a making session and I whacked the display box together. It’s a good prototype with a jam jar donation pot too. My mind is already buzzing for more ideas on things to make and share to raise funds.

The top picture is from last weeks session. I spent nursery time with the active retired group making crosses and drinking tea. Siobhán made this gorgeous dense rosemary orange cake. A lot of the women had never made crosses, which I found surprising for rural Irish women. One of them had spent the morning with her grandson who showed her how to make them, so she was putting us all to shame.

I’m still holding the essence of the afternoon. I wanted to stay on and play bingo. I’d love to do that another time. Well, the essence anyway was just how welcoming everyone was. We talked mostly about where we come from, me being from the city was a bit of a novelty of course! I can’t often seem to talk about where I come from without mentioning my grandparents. And in that instance it led to a moment of talking about grief. Never before had I heard it spoken about so frank and yet with such warmth. It was like she was encircling us with a halo and sharing the rawness of it all, and momentarily taking it away to show the terrible beauty of the everyday and the simplicity you can reach when you can go on.

Rushes are all around Myross. And in my search I discovered some new wet patches that I want to spend more time visiting as the seasons roll on. The rushes will continue to grow and multiply and die back. And as they do this they will add more organic matter to the wet ground. Over time (over rush time) this won’t be wet ground anymore and something else will grow instead.

I’m leaving a link to a Hands episode here. It’s on crafting with the much bigger rushes. I needed to rest a good bit this past while and I’ve been enjoying dipping into the archive.

I had this one near my bedside and even though its a year out I hadn’t given it good time. Emily Waszak writes in Grief Ritual as a Threshold into the Unseen:

Ruin is a sign of Degradation and abandonment, but it can also signify opportunity for renewal and regeneration.

Ruin is a threshold.

Next week I’ll be hanging out a the nursery from 3. Its a bit later than usual. I’ll be weeding and assessing the space and checking in on the younger ones.