Friday, July 17
You will recall that I do not work on Fridays. I recommend. I know it’s not good but the glorious weather continued. My friend and I had arranged to meet to go for a swim. I cycled to her house (almost the whole way via cycle lane); then we drove out to Howth in her luxurious car (I’m a bit ambivalent about this but there is something very luxurious about being up high on a leather seat) and had a lovely swim at Balscadden beach and lunch afterwards in Howth. A colleague texted me to confirm that something I was hoping would go at work went. The sun shone. All was right with the world.
We went back to my friend’s house and then I cycled home along by the sea side and through the park and even where I was with the traffic (hardly at all), I had dedicated cycle lanes. Living the dream, lads.
I stopped off on the way home to pick up “The Fellowship of the Ring” which I had ordered from the library a while ago and which had finally landed in my local branch. Thrills. I love the library, what a service.
When I got home, I made 7 kilos of jam. That’s right.
Hot work in the current climactic conditions.
And I made dinner. And afterwards we watched “The Fellowship of the Ring” until the DVD stopped working at the Council of Elrond and I felt a bit less warmly towards the library service.
Saturday, 18 July
First thing in the morning, Mr. Waffle and I went out to Dun Laoghaire to do one of Arran Henderson’s excellent walking tours. We’ve done them before and they have not disappointed. Dun Laoghaire did disappoint a bit though. Not because of the tour guide who is reliably excellent, full of enthusiasm and knows everything but a suburban seaside town just has less to offer than the city. Mr. Waffle is from that neck of the woods originally so I think he got more out of it that me. I’d really like to do an Arran Henderson tour of Cork but this, sadly, is not available.
A former colleague of Mr. Waffle’s was on the tour so the three of us went for lunch together. As we queued for the cafe in the people’s park (location delightful, food mediocre, alas), Mr. Waffle pointed out that the son of my father’s friend was in the queue behind us. His father and my father were friends from when they were in school in the 1930s and his father had died recently. I couldn’t go to the funeral as I was abroad so I turned around, sympathised, chatted and met his niece who had just finished school and was a very patient girl who listened to our reminiscing about childhood summers together in west Cork with no outward sign of boredom. While it was nice to see Mr. Waffle’s former colleague and my father’s friend’s son, it was a bit more socialising with acquaintances than I was quite prepared for.
After lunch we scooted home (no time for a swim, alas, which seemed like a real shame when we were right beside the sea) as I had a tennis match at 4. After tennis, I went round to a tennis friend’s house for a drink. There were four women – 3 Irish and one Polish. The Polish woman looked so elegant compared to us (no shade on my Irish friends but this dilution of the Irish gene pool cannot come soon enough); to be fair, we were fresh from the sweaty tennis court and she had come from a walk in the park, but still. We ended up staying for dinner (who can turn dinner for 2 – hostess and husband – into dinner for 5 at the drop of a hat, not me, but our hostess apparently) and I only staggered in home about 10.
We watched the second half of the “Fellowship of the Ring”. We were able to skip the scene with the Council of Elrond where the DVD refused to perform; perhaps someone had just been watching that scene over and over again? We’d all seen it before (Mr. Waffle under protest) but somehow the sudden appearance of Sean Bean (Boromir, in case you’re wondering), threw us a bit.
Sunday, July 19
After mass, Mr. Waffle and I went out for breakfast together then he, poor him, had to go to work. I went home and prepared myself for another tennis match. My ancient body did not welcome this development at all. I survived but it was warm and myself and my friend spent a lot of time talking. Two hours on court, about an hour’s tennis, I would say. The courts were quiet because it was baking.
After tennis, I came home and prodded the children to do various tasks that they regarded with low levels of enthusiasm and went into town to pick up labels for my jam (supremely unhelpful comment from Mr. Waffle, “I think we’ll know what it is.”).
But maybe I’ll give some away. Actually, I’ll have to, it’s a bumper year for plums. I’ve had to power up the shed fridge. This is what it looks like at the moment and I will be out doing a last sweep of the garden before bed later.
Also, unrelated, I grew these. I know anyone can grow montbretia and hydrangea and they will grow wild on the side of the road but I’m still pleased and look, lilies.
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