My brother was in Dublin for work during the week and stayed with us. Like the kind humanitarian I am, I drove him out to the airport for his morning flight. The airport was full of hares (enormous) running around the place. I counted six or seven. I went out to Malahide Castle for a cup of tea and a walk afterwards (because I can) and saw more. Is it global warming bringing us an early March hare season?
I stripped the bed he slept in later in the day and it felt curiously…warm. He had left the electric blanket on, switched to max. Who does that? Give me strength.
He is adapting somewhat to the constant tidiness he finds in my house. “You just want people not to be able to relax,” he hazarded. I refused to be goaded, “I only want you not to be relaxed.” I will be staying with him in France in a couple of weeks time and I fear the worst. I suppose it will by my turn not to be able to relax.
Also how is my younger, feckless brother turning 50 on Sunday? A mystery.