House Fairies

Fairies have always been a popular creature in Ireland with Irish folklore. I’ve grown up with different interpretations of fairies, and visited many of the different landmarks around Ireland that cater to the fairy folk.

My dad used to bring me home any book he could get his hands on because he knew, just like him, I would read anything. He would buy from charity shops and practically bring the same books back the next day to donate again. To this day I still think it’s the best way to read as many books as possible. So although I can’t thank him for bringing home the greatest literature of the century, I can always thank him for bringing me the love of reading as much as possible. I enjoyed all the books of course, but it was mostly light reading that could be read and passed on.

For my mum, reading was a very different experience. She would never read something that she knew she wouldn’t enjoy and would stop reading a book if it bored her or if anything else bothered her about it. However, she is responsible for introducing me to some of my favourite books that will always stay with me. My dad never knew what to pick out for me, which broadened my types of novels I read. But my mum knew what to look for and every once in a while she would arrive home with a book that would capture my heart.

One of these books was about a ‘faery’ named  Knife. Researching it today for this post, I discovered it was only the beginning of a series called Faery Rebels.  I had never heard of the book or author when I first got it, but it intrigued me so much. My “reading ego” was a bit high, so I wasn’t too impressed when my mum brought me a book that I had never heard of before, but after reading it I was almost mad at myself for almost being too stubborn to read it. Looking back on it, it probably does have a weird story line that wouldn’t stand out to me now. But it was just something completely different to anything I had ever read before.

I raved about it a lot to anyone who would listen, and got all of my friends interested in this mysterious new book. Although I never had the “fairy phase” growing up of Irish folklore or pretty little colourful fairies, I had a new understanding of them.

Also, it became a joke in my house that everything that happened was because of the group of faeries now living in the house. To this day we would refer to the “Water Faery” who never returns water bottles to the kitchen, or the “Shoe Faery” who steals my mothers shoes that conveniently always end up in my bedroom…


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Dear January
While everyone else is caught up in fuss of the party season, I feel like my whole family are the only ones who never seem to look forward to a new year. The last few seconds that count down a goodbye are spent waiting for you to inevitably come January. Each year, nothing gets easier. I avoid going home in January, because it is just almost too painful to see everyone. It has nothing to do with the new year, it’s just all about you January.
However,  unfortunately this year was much worse. Actually January, I must tell you that I want this month to be over so badly that I’m writing this well in advance before anything else can happen.
While everyone meets up with their family the next following days to wish each other joy and exchange new healthy meal plans, our family meets on Sunday mornings to offer comfort and give meals to those who are too numb from January to do anything productive. I’ve lost track at family gatherings if we’re celebrating the year, or the lives. Some families look forward to seeing relatives home, but there’s some in my family who I have only seen in black. But like I said, I like to avoid January as much as possible.
I am lucky enough to be able to leave the bubble of home, but out of sight is never out of mind. So I like to stick to myself this month, and slowly ease into the year. Of course I have made some good memories this month, but they’ll always be under the ‘January cloud’.
I lost a tribe member this year on top of everything else, but I know that it intentionally happened in January to avoid the cloud from spreading into another month. It’s almost laughable. Almost.
I wished I could look forward to you each year January, but it is hard to celebrate when no one else around me ever is.
I’m sorry that I never look forward to you.