Who knows where the time goes?

You’re so far away from me

So far I just can’t see

You’re so far away from me

You’re so far away from me, all right

So Far Away Dire Straits


Ellie — some say Samoyed, we say home movie superstar

Only the other day my oldest niece, A, was grabbing on to my elbows and shrieking with delight and mischief, her tiny slippered feet balanced on my lumbering insteps as I walked her across the kitchen floor of my old family home. I must have looked like the Yeti. A laughing Yeti.

Or Boo Radley freed from his domestic prison and goofing around now in his bumbling way with the irrepressible Scout.

Actually A is 30 now and that little vignette happened more years ago than I care to count. She is living and working thousands of miles away, more than half a world away, teaching English in Taiwan. Loves teaching, her students, is running in endurance events and just having a ball, it seems.

Such understated courage to do what she has done: up sticks from the city she had lived and worked in for years, loads of friends, a nice job in a busy bookshop. Pushing 30, but undeterred. She obviously wanted more.

I don’t even know the name of the actual place she is in now, just the fact it is in Taiwan is enough for me to know.

I was thinking of her, and of my brother, G, her Dad, the other day when I saw the video he had recorded and posted for her, to her. So far away.

Titled simply “Sneachta” (the Irish Gaelic for snow), he had walked around filming the snow falling hard and freely around that same old family home last week.

Home is a beautiful old stone gate lodge, one of two built for the 60-room mansion, known as the Priory, built for the English landlord Sir John Carden in the 1860s, and burned down in the 1920s during the Irish War of Independence.

The other gate lodge is gone too, replaced by a modern bungalow, but our fortress is rooted in far too many memories and stories to go down that easily. Plenty of room for bungalows on the few acres that accompanied the house when my paternal grandfather bought it in the 1940s.

My granddad was a kind, straight, but formidable old geezer and died only six months short of his 100th birthday. He was actually retired and living frugally in the gate lodge and smallholding for far longer than his actual working career in the police force.

I love G’s video, all windswept and bleak, the wind rattling the phone camera as he tries to call Ellie, their snow-white Samoyed, and a star of the little movie, to heel. No chance, there is far to much to explore in this unfamiliarly familiar fleecy, frosty wonderland.

And A will look on this video and I am wondering what will she see. She will take in the landscape of her youth, no doubt, the home she grew up in, and the familiar trees and fields and hedgerows, goofy, gorgeous Ellie, and she will hear her Dad. So far away.

Perhaps she will shiver involuntarily as she takes in this barren snowscape her roving director Dad has summoned up for her, or it may fill her with misty home thoughts from abroad, or make her appreciate the sunshine and the distance even more.

Who knows what ghostly footsteps are pattering across this snowy linen land for her now. And for her Dad and Mom and family. So far away.

Who knows indeed?

It won’t be long till my own children will be heading off from home on their life’s adventures. Near or so far away.

As Sandy Denny sang all those years ago, Who Knows Where The Time Goes?

Lucy At Home

DIY Daddy



Brilliant blog posts on HonestMum.com

Shank You Very Much

Monday Stumble Linky

Shank You Very Much

32 thoughts on “Who knows where the time goes?

  1. Love this , has brought me feelings- one of those blogs that make me want to snuggle in the sofa by fireplace and glass of wine , makes me nostalgic and miss home far away and childhood and all that time that wont come back! Tks


  2. Its crazy how fast time goes and all you’re left with are memories! I have so many plans still to see the world with Hubby and we’re wanting to instill that in the kids too…. if only we were rich enough to travel the world right now!!!
    Thanks for sharing this with us at #TriumphantTales. I hope to see you back next week.

    Liked by 1 person

    • Thank you so much. I did enjoy writing it – but then I enjoy writing all my posts. Sharing them and having them read and reacted too is just lovely. Thanks again for your lovely words


  3. Ironically the Dire Straits song is so evocative for me and anything by Dire Straits reminds me of my dad and my childhood. I love the wintery landscape that you’ve painted with your writing. It made me think of Wuthering Heights. Here’s to your niece and the incredible adventures ahead of her. Thanks for linking to #DreamTeam.

    Liked by 1 person

  4. What beautiful memories my childhood home is long gone although I’m not sorry if lm honest . Great read Thank you for linking to #Thatfridaylinky please come back next week

    Liked by 1 person

  5. I live 2 roads away from my parents, I can’t imagine being far from them and the thought of my children moving away is heartbreaking but you can’t stop time #dreamteam

    Liked by 1 person

  6. What a beautifully descriptive piece. I think our childhood homes and areas always have a special kind of hold on us. My parents had to move away from our family home when I was in my twenties, but whenever I am close by, I always go for a quick drive past the old place and all the memories come flooding back. #blogcrush

    Liked by 1 person

  7. Who knows indeed? I would like to know where time goes. That is one gorgeous dog, I find the white of Samoyeds magnificent. I hope she is enjoying her adventures. I am sure she will have many tales to tell one day. Thank you for joining #ThursdayTeam

    Liked by 1 person

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )


Connecting to %s