Polly, The Captain & Tenille...

Good morning! I know this isn't very Christmassy; however somehow I came across this clip from YouTube 'while checking my e-mails' this mormning! Cough!!!! All I can say in my defence is that this is truly one of my all time favourite songs...

For anyone who has a burning interest in Toni and Daryl; why not click through to this interview with them on Sidewalks way back in 2007. Strangely enough they come across as very nice people with real personalities and stranger still a back ground in classical music training!

Maybe I'm not being very seasonal in an obvious way; but in my defence the video takes me back to when I was a little girl anxiously wondering what gifts would be under the tree for me that year! It also brings tears to my eyes as I remember sharing that time with Winifred May; to whom I was devoted...

By the way; this picture was taken a very long time before I was born! I am not that old...

Polly Pierce

Vinca Cards: Handmade Wedding Stationary & Greeting Cards of Quality

Snowman Prays For Tomorrow

"Dear God,
Please make me more organized so that Christmas will be really great for us all this year. Also please make my back pain go away so that I can get on with all that needs doing!"


You know, I'm probably not the only one thinking silent prayers like the one above. 24 hours later on and my back doesn't feel any better than yesterday, if anything it's a little worse than it was. It woke me up at 6.30am; I got up took a couple of pain killers and an anti-inflammatory tablet and then drifted off for another hour or so, until it was time to get up. It always helps to have a couple of extra pillows handy to provide support while lying on my side; that's how I was able to drift off again.


The codeine taking such good effect makes it difficult to wake up. At 7.45am the various alarm clocks ringing their various tones; in a cacophonous lullaby, often have the opposite effect to that intended. Which is why I have to vary my clocks periodically! Having rolled out of bed, I realised that the back pain was here for the day, the sense of relief provided by the early tablets was just temporary.


It reached out and grabbed a handful of flesh, above my left buttock & just below the waist. Not content with merely grasping it, it twisted and pulled deep down inside, resulting in the high pitched squeaking sound emanating from my parched lips. Dizzy from the medication and disorientated I stumbled towards the yellow door, where my faded blue towelling dressing gown hung. I actually thought I would fall, when all of a sudden I regained my balance, in a nick of time. I hate mornings like this...


In the ideal world Polly would have cheerfully waved the three men in her life off to work and school and then retired to bed for the day. Sadly life's not really like that. I did get the guy's ready for school; breakfasted, clothed and carrying a packed lunch. DG prefers to look after himself; read lie in the bed for ten minutes longer!


My earlier breakfast had definitely worn off by the time I got back from the school run, so I ate LB's left over cold toast with a spoonful of homemade plum jam smeared all over it. My second mug of tea kick-started my aching body as far as the computer station where I started my 'working day'. First of all I had to check the e-mails; not too bad this morning, only 5!


As much as I would have loved to lie in the bed, presiding over the newly installed TV; unfortunately lying down precipitates the pain in my neck-shoulder-arm. Maybe that's why the duvet keeps creeping its way over to my side of the bed and my hair looks as though I have been pulled through a bush backwards! Seriously, it's matted at the back where I have been tossing and turning so much at night.


I suppose this would also explain the large black circles under my eyes these days. When I am good, I am very, very good and get a good night's sleep; starting early at around 10.00 - 10.30pm. Recently I have noticed that it is getting later and later before I finally hit the sheets. The pain in my arm has been so severe, even after the multitudinous pain killer's that I have been putting off the inevitable until I can hardly keep my eyes open; in fact, I have been known to fall asleep on the sofa, being woken only by the cold.


Previously I had been falling asleep, often on the sofa, very early indeed. I only had the usual aches and pains to contend with and DG would be able to wake me before I got too cold. These days he falls asleep before me, which is why I often wake up with icicles dangling from my nose and two pieces of coal where my eyes used to be!

Maybe tomorrow I'll wake up and the past few days will all have been a bad dream...


Polly Px

Just because I am running out of time, freezing cold and I have 101 things to do this afternoon; I am going to show you another blogger's recipe for Sloe Gin, which is absolutely gorgeous.

We made it a few years ago and I was pleasantly surprised at the result. For over two years we soaked our sloes in the gin and sugar mixture; until one fine day I decided that the time had come to indulge and boy's, oh boy's was it good or what!

Described as ruby red and smoothly sweet, sloe gin is a must for every home at Christmas. That is my opinion, at least, unfortunately BJK wasn't so quick to agree and gave us a flask of Belinda's Sloe Gin which is every bit as nice, just a little clearer!

Here's Nonnie's Recipe for Sloe Gin

1 bottle gin
1lb sloes
1/2(half)lb sugar

Take a large airtight jar with a capacity greater than the volume of gin and empty in the sloes. Cover sloes with sugar and top off with the gin(retaining the empty bottle). Leave to stand for at least 2-3 months turning jar occasionally so that all sugar is disolved and flavour of sloes is fully released into the gin.

When ready to use, strain mixture through a muslin cloth and pour back into the (sterilised) gin bottle. I always remove all the old gin labels and attach my own label as this looks far prettier.

Wait for a cosy evening and pour yourself a warming glass of ruby red liquid. Enjoy. x

Do give her a visit, she's got some lovely bits & peices for sale for Christmas and other occasions and her blog's well worth a read! Thanks to Irish Sally Garden for putting me on to her.

Anyway, I must run now;

Polly Px

Fun Monday!

Evenin’ y’all!

Now then, this post really is going to be just a quickie, especially considering that I have to make a quick Spaghetti ala Bolognaise, serve and eat it all before 7.10pm, which gives me little more than an hour to do both! As much as I love food and cooking there are times when it really is a nuisance and this is one of them.

Anyhow, the reason for this little post script is because Deborah at The Humble Housewife is hosting Fun Monday this month, which for anyone who isn’t aware is an event hosted by a different blogger each month. This month’s theme is family holiday traditions unique to your family, which means it could be any of the public holidays throughout the year and even as embarrassing as the inevitable Aunt Polly falling drunkenly over the Christmas tree.

In our family we have two quite different traditions, one is 'new'; the other 'old'. Both are of equal importance; representing bonds with tradition which have been passed down from generation to generation.

Our Newest holiday tradition is to attend the first matinee performance of the year at three o'clock on New Years Day. Either with; or without the optional hangover, the whole of our family make the annual pilgrimage sixty or so miles to inner city Dublin. Next we invade the seats nearest to the stage and boo-hiss at the cast of the annual Pantomine at the Liberty Hall Theatre.

Since LB was a babe in arms, suckling, oblivious to the hilarious antics of Sammy Sausages et al, this has been our way of ringing in the New Year. It is always great fun, although last year, while feeling a little bit blue; due to ill health; the cast shot me concerned looks of astonishment. For once I hadn't actually succeeded in putting them off their lines.

At one stage I laughed until I cried, and how did I cry; Buffy announced to the whole audience "...ahh, look; Mammy's crying!" With old friends like that I can't imagine a better way to bring in the New Year, especially as it unites three generations in a good Old Fashioned Family Way.

Our next tradition is probably one which is celebrated in most households around the world on the Eve before Christmas. I am sure that my family isn’t unique in our attitude regarding Santa Claus; although at times it certainly feels as though he may have taken a wrong turning. In Ireland, where we live, there is a tendency to large, exotic gifts being delivered under the Christmas tree.

I sometimes feel that our kids are disadvantaged; when the inevitable “What did you get…?” is asked of them. However, I have it on very good authority that Santa’s a cool dude cos he always gives my guys the best presents. This can range from a woollen hat and matching gloves, to action figures, magnetic stones called Oids, bulging eyeballs, caps, mandarin oranges, musical instruments, chocolate, snot in a bottle and so on; you get the picture.

It’s not that Santi, as he is known locally is mean; he just delivers what they really want; generally not the sort of things that stuffy old grown ups approve of. Oh yeah, he always manages to find a mankey old stocking or sometimes a pair of tights (panty hose) which is much more fun than a shop bought felt reproduction. The contents, due to the fact that the bulkier items are sheer hell to extract keeps the rug rats busy for hours on end.

Unfortunately, they do some times decide to blow bubbles onto me as I sleep; followed by all manner of chaotic mayhem on their new instruments, which will range from maraca’s and castanets to tin whistles and harmonica’s.

The absolutely worst of all gifts that the bearded man in the rotund red plush outfit has ever delivered; except for the sea monkeys, has to be the afore mentioned Oids. These magnetised haematite or iron ore ovoids make a horrible cacophonous rattling noise when thrown into the air. I still shudder at the mere thought of being woken up at 4.30am by that! It frightened me witless!

Like I said earlier; Santa is a cool dude, he is the MAN; loved by us all, young and old. Thirteen year old BB; standing behind me reading this as I write, recently told his granny all about him. I think he even claims to have heard sleigh bells last year, or was it the year before?

Anyway, duty is no longer calling me; it is impatient and screaming for attention, knawing incessantly at my right shoulder, so that’s it from me folk’s; dinner is calling!

For more Fun Monday and seasonal traditions go here.

Polly Px Polly Peirce

ps Having frantically & magically created what the English so fondly refer to as 'Spag Bol' in just under an hour, BB & I managed to eat it and arrive almost punctually at the Scouts Den for our weekly meeting. Unfortunately, BB really did eat on the run, with a tea cloth stuffed inside the collar of his uniform shirt in case of spillages and bumps in the road. May God forgive me, for I have sinned...

I can't imagine how MM, our Group Leader can possibly hold down a full time job, and do a degree course as well as all her Scouting Committments; I am worn out at just the very thought of it! Px

Good Morning, Good Morning!

Dear God, What on earth have I done to upset you today?

Welcome to the real word and the bemused rantings of the disparate housewife...

I dare say that from time to time most of us have uttered words to that effect; I most certainly have, as recently as this morning. DG was truly my knight in shining armour today, in so far as he took BB down to the village & the school bus. Such a small thing can have great impact on the life of Polly P, ie I get to doze for another few minutes under the luxuriously soft goose down quilt I got from Santa last Christmas.

Sometimes, however, such niceties unwittingly open the door to disaster. This morning, for instance, everything should have been going swimmingly well except we were running late; looking for the disappearing schoolbag. To make matters worse our lovely neighbours were in the process of moving cattle and had blocked the road for the duration.Thankfully Mrs MiF is one of the kindest of teachers and appeared to be quite forgiving of our situation, and LB did at least bring a healthy lunch to school!

Of course, were I a proper Mum this situation would simply not have occurred. The offending article would have been located the previous evening and packed accordingly; along with clean school uniform, underwear and shiny shoes. Unfortunately this is not the case in our house. Hopefully no-one noticed my nightgown; hanging beneath my inside-out cardigan, over my combats, or for that matter the fact that my dessert boots were trailing their laces behind me as I crossed the school yard...

Immediately upon my harried return I set about ransacking my own home; an act made necessary by the fact that I am no longer a domestic goddess, rather an exasperated wretch of a slob & layabout. Perhaps I exaggerate the extent of the disorganisation within the confines of my country cottage, but at times I do feel quite beyond despair.

Meanwhile; as a measure of my desperation urgent telephone calls were made to several unsuspecting innocents; firstly there was BJK - after all it's not unusual to be (loved by anyone...) down there of an evening, completing after school assignments [very posh phrase for homework] ,
next was the poor man at the Nissan dealership [my little black baby required serious fixing twice in the past week and is still on its hols there], then our lovely headmaster Mr HD; [who promised to check that the offending bag hadn't absconded to the classroom during the hols] and finally the poor beleaguered mother of LB's friend, [who wasn't in but got the OH to ring me back]. I'm out of breath after all that; phew, what a long sentence!

Needless to say there is a limit to anything, and soon I reached mine. Let's face it; two hours of ransacking the house over and over again is enough for anyone. It's well to tell that I am an amateur, as a professional burglar would have located said bag in less than three minutes; along with anything of value!

Anyway, feeling just a little crest fallen, at my failure to prepare my baby for school properly I decided that I should nourish my ailing body. LB had flatly refused to eat microwave porridge this morning, and so, in an effort to be frugal I reheated the sticky offering for myself.

Served up with a tablespoon of homemade strawberry syrup and a well deserved cuppa rosy lee (tea), all signs of self-reproval instantly vanished; it was delicious! Heartwarming & healt'y too, (around here we like to pronounce our T's wherever possible).

I then decided that I had a business to run and fought my way towards the computer at the end of the darkly strewn hallway. Having steadfastly ignored the rule that one should never take out more than one can comfortably put away in one hour; the house remains like a bombsite. Nevertheless, I was able to reach my destination with relative ease! Yeah, right...

With one flick of a switch I was transported to another world. The age of computer science really has changed the face of humanity; I had seventy four new e-mails awaiting delivery. Imagine the face of the poor postie, had he delivered as many snail mails, whatever about his legs straining under the sheer weight of it all!?

Bye y'all!

Polly Px Polly Peirce
http://www.freewebs.co/vincacards/index.htm