Just over a month ago, all of August still stretched before us, long sunny days, filled with bewitching colours and the reassuring feeling of freedom. 
The sky has been a constant sun filled blue, with the hint of a occasional wispy cloud. The heat and muggyness tethering on uncomfortable.
Dahlias flung open huge blossoms, as the grass turned to dust.

Flowers withered as they clung onto hopes of rain, as the birds took dust baths in overly dry flowerbeds, while dreaming of soft damp earth and plump worms.
Motionless washing lines full of crisp clean linens, hung stiff, as the sun beat aimlessly down upon the droughtful earth. 
And then the rain came, with a realisation, that long summer days are over and soon Mother Earth will showcase her finest season.
Although I wish the nights were cooler, my heart sinks at the thought that cold, wet days are fastly approaching and my lazy summer afternoons of relaxing with a good book are to be no more. 
An overwhelming state of loss, lies deep within my soul, as I know the cold, wet days ahead, hold only loneliness and a feeling of suffocation, as the weather takes me his prisoner, in the four walls we call home.
How I’ve loved the freedom, warm, sun filled days have given me, although I never venture far from the boundaries of our home, just pottering in our garden, or throwing a toy for puppy, or quietly siting in the shade while loosing myself in a book, is enough to fill my entire being with light, joy and a indescribable peace. Knowing, months of darkness combined with cold, rain filled days, isn’t giving me my normal love for winter and the calm that open fires and dumpling filled stews, over sized hoodies, soft pjs, snuggly dressing gowns and fluffy winter socks, normally brings. 

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Phillippe.
August has been kind to me, not only has the warmth been wonderful for my health, it’s given us an excuse to hit the open road in our trusty camper Phillippe.
From a rather wet and windy weekend away in Talybont on Usk, Wales,

to three nights in the beautiful historic, tiny city of Wells, Somerset, we’ve seen mother nature at her best and pottered along streets laden with history. 

Just getting away from normal life, at a drop of a hat, has been a blessing.
As many married couples know, not many words are needed to know what the other is saying or thinking, although an humongous gift to have, sometimes the habit of silent understanding is deafening and the daily use of mobile phones, business calls and the rat race we call life, can make you forget to truly listen and be present with each other. After 29 years together, I find that hitting the road in Phillippe works wonders in reconnecting and truly, soulfully, listening and engaging in each other once again. 
I swear it’s the key to to many more wonderful years together. 

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Garden.
Throughout the heatwaves we have been having, I’ve desperately been trying to keep a few of my favourite flowers/plants alive and I’m very grateful that when needed I’ve been able to use my hose to do so, which I do feel guilty about, I must say. (Blue badge holders are allowed to use hosepipes due to health and safety.)

And as we plan a budget friendly small makeover, for a spot in our garden that has been ruined by the shade from humongous trees, which drain all the moisture out the ground. I’m getting ready to say goodbye to all the flowers I grow this year.
In preparation for next year‘s garden, I’ve already started sewing seeds which are growing along nicely and will be planted out before the first frost hits.

There is lots to do before those little beauts are planted out, lots of plants to move around and relocate some of our raised flower boarders, which I’m hoping to start this week, if the weather plays nice. Watch this space for updates.

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Family History.
In truth I have not done much research lately. In all honesty, it’s been a welcome break, as our ancestors consume me. They pull deeply on my heartstrings and their lives affect my emotions. 
Sometimes you need to step away, give yourself a chance to breath, as well as giving yourself some self care. I’ve been doing that a lot recently. 
Although, when the feeling is right, I’ve been looking into my, O’Connor ancestry and, by george, I think I may have stumbled across them. I’m not going to let myself get excited as I need to do a lot, I mean a lot, more research to hopefully confirm it is them. But if it is, it’s going to open up a whole different lot of questions. 
I won’t say any more for now, as it’s very early days but I have everything crossed.

Speaking of our O’Connor family, you may have seen that I have recently written about, Rosina Margaret O’Connor’s life and, what I know so far about her.
I’m currently working on her sister, Annie’s life story, and I hope to revisit the life of, John Cornelius O’Connor, my great, great grandfather. 
I’ve written about him many times before but in the very early days of Intwined. 
My writing skills have changed a lot since the beginning, hopefully bettering myself and my skills as the years have gone by. 
With that in mind, I very much wish, to revisit him and honour his life yet again.
My love for him and his family, runs incredibly deep and I hope that when I write about them, it shows. 
Out of all my ancestors, John Cornelius O’Connor, haunts me (in a good way), the most.
Yesterday I set up a private group on Facebook, called “Descendants of, John O’Connor” where I hope family will share their memories, photos and information about our mysterious O’Connors. My sister In-law Sarah, set one up for her, Hillier, family line, and it’s proven to be extremely insightful. Hope the O’Connor group will be just as good. If our O’Connor dna runs through your blood, please feel free to join and share your family stories, photos and information and between us all, we may fill in some blanks and finally uncovered their history.

I best stop my rambling and let you get on with your day.
Until next time, stay safe, stay true, stay you.
Too-da-loo.

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