The rest of us partook of a sample of these activities. The children and I climbed the Sugar Loaf which is according to our guide book the second most climbed mountain in Ireland. It was certainly busy on Saturday afternoon. “Tourists,” said the Princess disdainfully. And though she felt it was a bit too easy, it was certainly hard enough for me. Part of the problem is that she and Michael are very nimble but Daniel isn’t (he’s the best at running and ball games, so it’s good that he doesn’t triumph at everything, I suppose). We got to the top and admired the view:

Then herself and Michael scrambled down with admirable speed but a less than entirely admirable consideration for their mother. They got to the car park a good three quarters of an hour before Daniel and I made it down. I, of course, worried that they would fall and break their necks but had to stay with Daniel who was afraid of falling and therefore the most cautious of the lot. There were some recriminations. Still, it’s a great mountain to have climbed because the shape is so distinctive and you can see it every time you drive into Wicklow.

Then on Sunday we went orienteering with the cousins again and all the children seemed to really like it. This week, they hared round the course and might have made quite good time had they not had to wait for me.

I am exhausted after all this outdoor activity. I think I will stay in for the rest of the week nursing my tired limbs.

We took ourselves to the college bar and the children had the most fun of the day playing on a sculpture which I trust, given that it is adjacent to the bar, is robust.

We also had ice cream. Note how the toasty children frolic in the warm May sunshine.

Example 2:
We are still making our way through the Easter egg chocolate. The Princess suspects me of eating it. I did once but only the once because it’s quite vile. She was unconvinced. “Right,” she said, “I am going to take precautions.” Mr. Waffle found her in the kitchen weighing the chocolate. She then wrote the weight on a post-it and stuck it to the remaining chocolate in what can only be called a marked manner.

It was freezing (6 degrees at the end of April, what is happening to the weather? I digress) but once in the forest out of the wind, it was fine. Mr. Waffle had been very excited on the way down as it is one of the very few forests in Ireland which does not consist almost entirely of fir trees. I couldn’t work up any enthusiasm myself until I saw it. And he was quite right, it is lovely.

And then we went to visit a friend of mine from college who lives in the Midlands. She has her own business, her husband commutes from his job in the UK and she has three children, 8, 6 and 3. I always feel that staying sane in these circumstances is a very significant achievement. Anyway she tells me that she has decided to up the ante and that she is expecting another baby. She seems calm and cheerful in a manner that may indicate that she has finally tipped over into insanity. One can but gasp in awe.

As ever, we spent ages in tiny and, as far as I can see, not particularly attractive playground:

We lingered to look at not very exotic pigs:

But I didn’t care because I hadn’t paid €50 for us to get in. So then we saw the tigers close up and the sea lions did amusing things. This only happened because I didn’t care.

And she got cake.

Neither of her brothers won anything (“An Seilide” by Gabriel Rosenstock for Michael and “An bhfaca tú mo Shéamaisín?” Traditional for Daniel). They both cried. Not in the course of their performance but on hearing the results of the independent jury. Alas.

I quite enjoyed this but, I can’t quite say why, it reads a bit like a book written in translation. It’s about Anna Anderson, the woman who claimed that she was the Grand Duchess Anastasia. It’s a mix of fact and fiction and I think it does a good job of trying to imagine the motives of the woman who spent a lifetime pretending to be someone else.

“Just So Stories” by Rudyard Kipling [New Year's Resolution]

Despite their moments of imperialism these are really great stories to read aloud to 6 year old boys. Also, they made me realise that I had never said the word “sagacity” aloud before as in “a man of infinite-resource-and-sagacity”. So we’re all learning. You will be delighted to hear that the man of “infinite-resource-and-sagacity” was a “Hi-ber-ni-an”. You can read this particular one yourself here. You may think it dull but find the requisite 6 year old boys and you will be surprised by their delighted reaction.

“The Jungle Book” by Rudyard Kipling [New Year's Resolution]

I quite enjoyed this. Despite the title, it’s not all jungle. I was inspired to read it by “Riki-Tiki-Tavi” which I read when I was eight in one of my favourite books of all time. I’m not sure whether it was because I read this story at just the right age or because it really was the best but I still liked it best of all the stories. I feel that I have had enough Kipling for a while now though.

“33 Moments of Happiness” by Ingo Schultz [New Year's Resolution]

I sort of knew from the cover of this book and the font that the 33 moments of happiness in the title would be set in hours of misery. This must be why it’s been awaiting attention on my bedside table since sometime in the 1990s. Why is literary fiction so bad at happiness? These are short stories set in St. Petersburg. There is much gloom, some confusion, and, yes, alright, arguably the odd moment of happiness. I think of the 100 odd books in my New Year’s Resolution pile, this must have been one of the hardest reads. It’s magical realism, written by a German and set in St. Petersburg; can you imagine?

“Ferno” by Adam Blade

The boys love this book. It is volume one of the Beast Quest series. There are 60 (!) volumes and counting. Given that my sons are working their way through the series at a rate of knots, I thought that I should read volume 1 so that I could understand some part of their convoluted explanations of plot. The plot is not complex. Tom goes to free a beast from enchantment. He does it in a very pared down version of every fantasy novel you’ve ever read. But to be fair to the four people who write these books (Adam Blade, is, alas, a fictional character and the copyright to these volumes is held by Working Partners Ltd.), it’s fine. The writing is very accessible for small children and every page is a new cliff hanger. It’s spectacularly limited when it comes to character development and the plot is clichéd but, not if you’re six! Every old trope (missing father, faithful companion, exciting map) is a stunning new development to them. They talk about the books non-stop. Honestly, six year olds could have the best book club ever.

You get into it by picking up the key from a local.

We didn’t tell the children what it was but as we approached it, the Princess said, “It’s a passage grave, isn’t it? Like Newgrange.” Some people are very smart.

When we got there, we opened up the door in the hill with our key.

We went in and closed the door. As our eyes grew used to the gloom the light shining through the roof illuminated the neolithic carvings on the lintel stones.

Unlike, Newgrange, the children were free to run around with the torch (essential piece of kit for this outing) and shout and roar. Obviously, this kind of thing is off putting if there are other people about. But we were all on our own.

And then afterwards, they could roll off the top.

It was really excellent and appealed to all members of the family in slightly different ways.

And then we went to Ardgillan Castle for a cup of tea and a look at the playground. And that was very pleasant too.

This is what she’s like, if you have an Irish accent. Siri does not support Irish accents: