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Princess

A Midsummer Night’s Dream


Posted in: Dublin, Ireland, Princess

Herself loves Shakespeare. This did not come from her parents who, frankly, can take or leave Shakespeare and think that laughing at his comedies is the sign of a sick mind.

Her best friend’s father has a theatre company and I think she may have got encouragement from there. Anyhow, she has learnt off large chunks of Shakespearean plays for her own entertainment which makes me feel proud, obviously, but also baffled. At her age, I found Lamb’s “Tales from Shakespeare” pretty dull let alone going near the source material.

Anyhow, for 6 nights there is a production of “A Midsummer Night’s Dream” running in the grounds of Dublin Castle and she and I went along on Wednesday night. Tickets were only €6 each and, frankly, I have spent far more on less satisfactory theatrical experiences. My only quibble was that visibility at the back was pretty poor and herself spent most of the show perched on my knees. On the plus side, the evening was beautifully warm and clear and it was lovely to be outdoors.

I was unfamiliar with the play but herself gave me a summary and some of the quotable lines at the start (“I don’t want to ruin it for you” – “Never mind, I’ll be alright”). It was billed as Shakespeare and Glam Rock but the emphasis was pretty heavily on the Shakespeare. Herself is still pretty new to theatre going so was amazed and entranced at how 9 actors managed to play all the characters. She laughed at the jokes and was generally absolutely enthralled (although she told me some parts had been dropped – since that kept it under 2 hours, that was fine by me).

One of the great pleasures of parenthood is enjoying something through your children. I think I would have been bored had I been there alone but with her, a little of the magic and enchantment rubbed off. Nevertheless, philistine that I am, one of the highlights for me (and for the Spanish kids sitting beside me) was the menacing behaviour of a number of seagulls, one of whom sat on Titania’s bed as she slept looking at her balefully. It was clearly aware that it had a reputation to maintain.

Waffles


Posted in: Princess

The Princess got a present of a waffle maker from her aunt. She made waffles. We are all very impressed.

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And Another One Down


Posted in: Middle Child, Princess, Twins, Youngest Child

This year’s childminder has left us. She has gone back to Spain. We are all a bit sad, as she was really lovely – warm and friendly. She was also very, very beautiful – about six feet tall with long, thick, dark hair to her waist and perfect features. I was describing her to a colleague and he asked whether I make it my practice to bring good looking young women into my house. Apparently, I do.

But in related good news, our previous childminder who the children also loved has come back to us for the month of June as he is between jobs having left the crèche where he was employed because he was concerned about standards (he is very French, which is not to say that he is wrong). Anyhow, if he doesn’t find another job over the summer (when we can’t take him on as I am off work on unpaid leave and there are limits to our funds), he has promised to come back to us in September which would be wonderful.

Are you fascinated by my childminder problems?

Virtuous


Posted in: Dublin, Ireland, Princess

Mr. Waffle was in Germany last week and he brought home with him a rather unappetising pretzel. On the strength of this, herself decided that she would like to make some.

So she did.

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And they were absolutely delicious.

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She also made brownies, flapjacks and fairy cakes for the church garden party. And manned the slushy stall – a more challenging task than you might expect.

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A weekend filled with virtue.

Final word to Michael:

Michael: What is all the money raised going to be spent on?
Me: The church roof.
Michael: What, nothing for the poor?

Agony of the Faithful


Posted in: Middle Child, Princess, Twins, Youngest Child

At mass recently we had to do, the introduction (me), the second reading (herself), the prayers of the faithful (all of them and some other children rounded up on the morning).

The reason for this was that a number of our choir members sing in a national youth choir and they were singing at mass so regular readers were thin on the ground (either singing or preparing tea for the singers). The regular reading organiser asked me to round up children to say the prayers of the faithful. A number of novice readers I approached in the church shrank back in horror and I was left to fall back on my own brood. Daniel and Herself are regulars but Michael has only done it once before. I had him practice two prayers. Just before mass, one of the regular young readers turned up and I nabbed her and said to Michael, “OK you only need to do one now.”

I did my introductory bit and I thought that considering how bad previous attempts of mine have been, it wasn’t too awful but my family said I looked pale and shook like a blancmange. Can this be true? Hey, don’t mock until you’ve had a chance to bore a church full of people yourself. The Princess missed her cue for the second reading as she was distracted by the really beautiful responsorial psalm sung by the choir and had to zoom up to the altar with the speed of a coursing hare. She was fine once she got there – she has nerves of steel.

And then I found myself worrying – when are the prayers of the faithful? When do my little readers need to be shepherded to the altar? The Princess and I exchanged agonised glances. The priest paused. “Is it now?” I hissed at Mr. Waffle. “I don’t think so,” he said. Oh the agony. There was a really meaningful pause after the creed and the Princess gathered the children together and brought them up to do the prayers of the faithful. Michael was up first. Although he has read less often than the others, he is a clear and confident reader from the altar so, once he was there, I entertained relatively few fears. He began. It was the wrong prayer – he had got confused in the messing about before mass. He realised this. Instead of ploughing on, he put his hand to his forehead and said, “Oh no, oh no, it’s not this one.” Alas. Poor Michael, he was very cast down, though nobody minded at all, on the contrary, I imagine that they welcomed the variety from the standard prayer for vocations (singularly ineffective).

In other religious news, this Sunday, I will be operating a slushy machine for the Church Garden Party. The early Christian martyrs have nothing on me.