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Title : Hallowe'en Marks the Start of Winter (Still Sketching Though)
link : Hallowe'en Marks the Start of Winter (Still Sketching Though)

Hallowe'en Marks the Start of Winter (Still Sketching Though)

[by Róisin Curé in Galway] Years ago, I brought my kids trick or treating along the dark country roads near my home in the deep Kilcolgan countryside. Those times are over now. My youngest is thirteen, my boy is sixteen and my eldest is seventeen ("nearly 18 and an adult, you know" as she never stops reminding us). I'm glad those times are over. I have lovely memories but it was a lot of work for me.

 I used to say to my kids, "If I do something for you that you can do for yourself, I'm not doing you any favours." It stemmed partly on my being overworked and partly from being something I strongly believed. I usually caved in, but I don't any more, or they won't be able to fend for themselves in a few years. So when they wanted me to give them ideas for doing something fun for Hallowe'en, I had a ready answer: "Google it."
 They had a lot of fun. This is the product of my daughter Liv's search. I thought it was great. When I gave permission for those jeans to be used, I wasn't wearing my glasses, so I didn't know they were mine. Never mind! I figured there was only so much damage rats, slugs and crows can do in one night.

 My husband and I were fervently watching Breaking Bad in a desperate binge to get in Season Three before it was taken off Netfix. My husband is one of those people who doesn't tolerate fidgeting or sounds while he's watching something, but I had an overpowering urge to paint the pumpkin that my son Paddy had carved. Until then, I didn't realise how noisy sketching can be. But try stopping a sketcher when the fever is upon them.

 Two days later the weather was beautiful. My daughter and I took the little dog Reuben for a walk up the road past my house, to the old ruin on the banks of the estuary that runs past the end of my field. If you walk down a bódhrín (little road, grassy path) that leads from the house to the water, you are in a different world: the house was built in 1789 and burnt out in the 1920s. There are still walled gardens, cobbled walkways, turreted walls and a quay that never sees any boats pull in. It is utterly deserted but set in the most gentle, pristine countryside so has a magical feeling about it.
On one of the paths, a storm had brought down a tree and Liv clambered all over it. She was delighted with herself. "Why aren't you anxious for me, Mum?" she kept calling. "I'm in danger here!" I was only dimly conscious of my duties as a mother and so I told her, with difficulty, that she didn't have very far to fall, but that she was NOT to rip her new jeans. I couldn't help thinking of the trees I climbed as a child. They weren't very high - I'm scared of heights - but they were pointing upwards. It's funny, I would never in a fit have gone off for a casual walk with my mother to muck about in the countryside. I'm very flattered that my daughter wants to. My mum walked all the time, but always very fast and with a destination in mind, and there was no stopping for any reason, unless you wanted to be left on your own. And we lived on a mountainside, so you would have to have huffed and puffed UP the hill to catch up.

 The next day Liv wanted to walk there again.  I invited her big brother Paddy because (a) he's marvellous company and (b) he would have been glued to his screen all day if I had not suggested something outdoorish to do. This is the corollary of accompanying the kids places: they are far less likely than I was at their age to head off on their own. Then again, since I was often up to no good when I went off on my own (smoking, fretting and feeling sorry for myself), maybe I should be glad.

 The kids both "climbed" the fallen tree. Paddy started breaking off twigs and chucking them at Liv. The tide was unusually high and the water's edge was now at the furthermost tips of the tree. I could see things escalating and someone landing in the drink (or ripping their jeans) so I figured it was time for a sketch. Paddy is always very obliging when I ask him to sit for me and he happily took up a place opposite the tree, on the edge of the quay.
You can see how high the tide was - we can often walk along the seaweed at the foot of the quay wall. The wall behind Paddy is one of the walled compounds belonging to the ruined manor house. It's full of cows now.

 So there you have it. Yes, summer is long gone, and now autumn is too. but I think we'll survive another winter. It's another glorious day out, and I'm off to bring the dog for a walk.

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