Spotted advertised recently – A Céilà Speed Dating Event. The mind boggles.
Cork
A Day Out
As I mentioned we were in Cork at the weekend. I decided to take the children to Charles Fort.
Me: Tomorrow, we’re going to see a fort!
Daniel: I don’t want to go.
Me: It’ll be great, it’s a really big, impressive fort.
Daniel (dubiously): But forts are invisible.
Me: Not this one, it’s huge.
Princess: A fort Daniel, not a fart.
The next day we set off to walk two long kilometres to the fort. We did not get off to a good start. Daniel had a sore knee which I thought would go away, but didn’t. He just limped there and back uncomplainingly. My saintly middle child. Michael meanwhile dragged himself along saying “My legs are so tired”. He was the first to realise that once we got to the fort we would have to walk back again. He wasn’t pleased. I wasn’t so pleased myself, I had three unhappy children and I was carrying two guns – a pistol and a nerf gun – and a light sabre (to attack the fort).
However, once we reached Summercove, things began to look up. We were fortified by lunch at the Bulman (which I cannot recommend highly enough – herself had an enormous bowl of mussels, I had crab claws and the boys a portion of chips each – in our own way, we were all happy). Then the fort was great. And it didn’t rain on us. Always a plus in any Irish outing. And, as always, the road back didn’t seem quite so long.
Hot
I took the children to my parents’ house at the weekend. Mr. Waffle’s parents’ house is always a bit on the cold side for me and my parents’ house is always much too warm for him. This means that at home, I wear my fleece of an evening – mmm synthetics – and Mr. Waffle wanders round in t-shirts and shorts.
The children take after him. Herself couldn’t sleep with the heat in Cork and even I was quite warm. I took off my fleece. Ah, my Cork family observed, you have become a Waffle. Still, my mother, who feels the cold terribly couldn’t really believe that any human being could really be so warm. As herself lay sweating under a single sheet, my mother asked me anxiously, “Do you think that she’d like a hot water bottle?”
This is What Living in Ireland is Like
Me: I see there’s a reference to you in that new book by [mildly famous person].
Friend M: I am so mortified.
Me: I didn’t even know you knew her, how do you know her?
Friend M: Through Anna.*
Me: Who’s Anna now?
Friend M: She’s the woman who was married to J before Mr. Waffle’s friend C.
Me (to my mother who was listening): Oh you know C, Mum, she’s the younger daughter of Mrs. H who taught me in Senior Infants.
*Names changed to protect the innocent.
Old-Fashioned Family Fun
We have been in Cork for the past couple of days with my family. My brother is cleaning out the attic. He found Monopoly, Cluedo and Guess Who. All of the pieces were there (miraculously). The children loved the games. One morning I found them playing Monopoly in preference to watching cartoons on the television. It was a bit stressful though as the Princess wiped the floor with her brothers. And it’s such a long game. Daniel wept for about an hour and a half as he was slowly bankrupted by herself. Echoing around the house were cries of “please, don’t make me sell my houses” followed by “please don’t make me mortgage my properties” followed by “please don’t make me sell my properties back to the bank” and then “please don’t buy my properties from the bank” and finally, “I hate you”. Kind of like the Celtic Tiger aftermath, I suppose.
Meanwhile, the grown-ups stayed up late playing cards. Despite my efforts to palm him off on someone else, I ended up playing with my husband. Regular readers will recall that my husband is a genius; but he is no good at cards. As my aunt said kindly, “It’s hard for people who didn’t grow up playing cards”. She didn’t partner him though. By common consent (with only one dissenting voice), I am the worst card player in my family so it was doubly unfair (arguably, at least I used this argument) and we were doomed, doomed. Mr. Waffle asked whether next time he can just hand over his money at the start and get it over with.
The Princess also asked to learn to knit over Christmas and my mother bought her wool and needles. I knitted a few rows myself and was amazed how it came back to me. I think I was ten the last time I lifted a knitting needle.
We left herself in Cork to bond with my family and brought Cluedo and Guess Who back to Dublin. We have our own version of monopoly which I bought in a flea market in Belgium. It has all the pieces but on inspecting it this evening, the boys were puzzled by the 10,000 franc note and the French names. But they are game. Unfortunately.
We enjoyed three evenings of undisturbed rest in Cork. My brother and sister have moved home temporarily and the house is full – my brother wasn’t clearing out the attic for the good of his health – so while there was room to squeeze in the children, there really wasn’t room for us as well. So, nobly, we stayed in the hotel around the corner. Next time, my sister says that we can have her bed and she’ll sleep in the hotel.
Christmas Thoughts
I was in Cork visiting my parents last week and my mother bought me some spiced beef in the Market. This is a Cork speciality which is only available at Christmas. I brought it lovingly back to Dublin to cook. The whole house smelt of Christmas spices while it bubbled away reminding me of Christmases past. It tastes fantastic also.
There is only one problem, it sits in your fridge looking like a rhinoceros turd:
Now, I’d like to take this opportunity to wish you all a very happy Christmas.