Without speaking of it - we know it. We can feel winter's heaviness has lifted.
When working on a replica of a French gig whose original version was washed up on the shores of Ireland centuries ago, only to be hidden away for a hundred or more years... only to be discovered and revived, it only seems natural that the ways of the old country be imbued upon her.
The good news is we may be about half way in the work of bring the Verite back into tip top condition too. That is something to celebrate.
Yesterday something caught my eye, just down a few feet from our digs inside the cavernous building there it was. It was like a little man cave - big tools all around, a table and chairs. It was a though the men rushed off. There laid a jump suit tossed on the seat, a pair of shoes below. The table was littered with soda and pop cans. A Tableau vivant, a living picture called "Ode to men working."
Meanwhile, down at the other end... the buzz of 11 women could be heard. At this point in the documentation, the floor boards had been cetoled again and stowed below for drying; the inside green paint sanded, wiped down, taped and painted.
It was time for celebrating out in the chill of the bleak mid winter.
Hot tea, foie gras, homemade crackers, cheese, melon, cookies, chocolate,
carrots, homemade meat sticks and more. All the food groups, right?
Oh, the frivolity, the self expression of joy.
We all wanted to capture it, to be reminded of "it" from time to time when spirits are low.
Imboloc - halfway between the solstice seasons.
Celebrated with candles that evening.
The day wound down... knowing good work, good people, good times.
