Monday, March 16, 2009

“Family—that dear octopus from whose tentacles we never quite escape, nor, in our innermost hearts, ever quite wish to.” (-Dodie Smith)


Top o’ the mornin’ to ye’!


Sure 'n it's St Patrick’s Day,...


...and today, I’m remembering my Scotch-Irish grandparents and my mom. St. Patrick's Day is one of those days that make me think of family and my ancestors and what they mean to me.


My grandmother always used to tell me, “Never forget your British Heritage.”


Some years ago, I sat in an amphitheatre outdoors at a local college, on a beautiful spring day, and met the wonderful poet, Seamus Heaney. I heard him reciting this poem that describes his father and grandfather. He recognized the enormity of their influence on his own life, and wrote about them often in his beautiful poems:


Digging

(-Seamus Heaney)


Between my finger and my thumb
The squat pen rests; snug as a gun.

Under my window, a clean rasping sound
When the spade sinks into gravelly ground:
My father, digging. I look down

Till his straining rump among the flowerbeds
Bends low, comes up twenty years away
Stooping in rhythm through potato drills
Where he was digging.

The coarse boot nestled on the lug, the shaft
Against the inside knee was levered firmly.
He rooted out tall tops, buried the bright edge deep
To scatter new potatoes that we picked,
Loving their cool hardness in our hands.

By God, the old man could handle a spade.
Just like his old man.

My grandfather cut more turf in a day
Than any other man on Toner's bog.
Once I carried him milk in a bottle
Corked sloppily with paper. He straightened up
To drink it, then fell to right away
Nicking and slicing neatly, heaving sods
Over his shoulder, going down and down
For the good turf. Digging.

The cold smell of potato mould, the squelch and slap
Of soggy peat, the curt cuts of an edge
Through living roots awaken in my head.
But I've no spade to follow men like them.

Between my finger and my thumb
The squat pen rests.
I'll dig with it.


(Susan and Edward, my grandparents)


Happy St Paddy’s Day to you all!



22 comments:

Artist Unplugged said...

Exquisite watercolor! Lovely post. The poem is great and enjoyed seeing the photo of your grandparents. Happy St. Patrick's Day to you too!

Jacinta Montgomery said...

I love your painting and your quote and poetry is heartwarming.

Debra said...

What a gorgeous post~

Cris, Artist in Oregon said...

Lovely painting. I love those cottages. Lovely poem and photo of your Grandparents too. Were they Bristish or Irish?

Anonymous said...

Loe teh Seamus Haney poem - "the Thatcher" is one of my personal favorites...He has the Irish way with words.

ParisBreakfasts said...

S'Wonderful!!!
Love your dear little watercolor!
Thought of you when I saw a small Vuillard book at the Salon du Livre...should I have bought it for you? ? ?

Laureline said...

Your love of your family, current and past, is so touching and admirable, Sue. Thank you for sharing al of this with us.

africantapestry said...

A lovely touching post Sue. Beautiful little cottage wich reminds me of the time we lived in Suffolk where there are so many like them and a tender poem...
Ronell

A Brush with Color said...

Thank you all, very much. Family is important...

Cris, my grandparents are Scottish--but they always thought of the entire British Isles.

Cris, Artist in Oregon said...

Thanks Sue. My Maternal Grandfather was Irish, Stottish & a bit of English. I don't know much more about him tho. He was 25 years older then my Grandmother and died when I was 9 months old. Bummer.

caseytoussaint said...

Sorry I missed you on St Patricks day, Sue! Here in France it goes unnoticed except in Irish pubs. Having grown up Irish Catholic in New Jersey, it was always a big occasion to me. Did you know that travel agencies in Dublin organize trips for people to celebrate St Patrick's day in New York? There they celebrate it mostly with cocktails, and a parade in Dublin. I guess that's not very different from what happens in America....

A Brush with Color said...

Cris, what a shame you never knew your grandfather. I never knew my paternal grandfather either.



Casey, I'll probably always celebrate St Paddy's day somehow. It just makes me think of my grandmother, especially.

Sharon said...

Sweet post!

laura said...

Lovely painting of the old sod. When I was young I always imagined I'd go to Ireland and experience genetic memory--maybe someday I will go; I'd sure love to paint there.
You grandparents, perhaps it's there expressions?, look so contemporary--and a bit mischievous?

Merisi said...

Sue,
I could have sworn I had commented here after reading Seamus Heaney's poem! Must have pushed ye olde "preview" button instead. Oh my! ;-)

I hope your St. Patrick's Day was a good one and wish you a wonderful weekend! :-)

Nancy Van Blaricom said...

Wonderful post. Lovely watercolor.

Pam said...

Funny. I discovered Seamus Heaney recently and intend to do a post soon on his poem "Death of a Naturalist". I like the look of your grandparents - it's a great photo.

willow said...

Wonderful picture of your grandparents, Sue! And another Heaney poem that has to do with that Irish love of the land! Nice St. Paddy's post.

A Brush with Color said...

Thank you, all!

Judybec said...

Great photo Sue-I see the hint of smiles not often seen in some of the old photos. And your watercolor cottage is delightful!!! Nice poem too! Happy St. Pats-- even thought I'm more than a tad bit late.

Jennifer Lawson said...

Oh, how did I miss this beautiful post. Then again I'm not Irish, but I am a bit Scottish, and I'm in Bali and we are celebrating Nyepi. Splains that!
Love the cottage watercolor and sweet photo of your grandparents.

A Brush with Color said...

Thank you, Jennifer! Have fun in Bali!