Generosity & Plenty

Pagona by Stephen West in 50% baby camel/50% silk from Coolree

For Marianne... who, as one of the most accomplished craftspeople I know, will appreciate the beauty of the yarn.

…  I first met Marianne as the formidably efficient Austrian manageress of the Dublin restaurant of the day where everyone wanted to eat.  Her accent was flawless Cork (from where her husband came), her wisecracking über Dublin (from where the chefs in the kitchen came), but her directness was all her own - and very un-Irish too.   My job at the time meant I frequently called in with last minute table cancelations on behalf of some of her least predictable customers, putting me in the firing line of Marianne at her most forthright - but it also meant that I was gratified and astonished when one day she invited me to her home for lunch….

I went, completely petrified, but left with a friend for life.

Pretty much concurrently both of us got married, pregnant and gave birth to daughters, now life-long friends in their own right. One of my sons is her godson, and then she went on to have a son of her own. Marianne’s became a second home to not just my daughter and myself, but to all my children, their friends and half the surrounding countryside too….  Her personality is both ordered and rowdy and a draw for all ages.  Her enjoyment of children didn’t diminish once her own were grown and smaller neighbours still arrive regularly to feed the rabbit or show off their latest art work. Marianne is the very essence of community: a tireless contributor seeking no personal limelight....without her and her like, neighbourhoods would crumble.  And consistent with a community theme, she recently she took up choral singing in two heavy duty choirs which, given the time commitments involved, is sure to have knocked a monumental gap in many other local arrangements.

Because they're meticulously tended, things in Marianne's house grow and develop - for instance (no exaggeration) her goldfish were of proportions that they themselves could have formed a viable dinner for two.  She's a cook, a singer, a set dancer, an irish language speaker (to a standard higher than most native Irish people), as already mentioned, a craftswoman, avid reader, gardener and zoo keeper too  – her rabbits, hamsters and dogs are free range in a garden crackling with life, and just  this morning her back yard had many plump, preened local pigeons pecking at oatmeal she'd left out for whoever dropped in.     

 When Marianne says she doesn't care, she really means it (although she would possibly say so in much less polite terms).  However when she actually does care, everything with which she's involved  becomes a whole lot richer