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Archives for December 2009

Year end lists

31 December, 2009
Posted in: Reading etc.

It’s that time of year. From a trick I got from Nicholas one year, I am going to put up the first sentence from the first post for every month of 2009. Because I can.

January 2009

Did you miss me? [Back after Christmas]

February 2009

Him: I have a meeting at 5, so I may not be home until after the children have gone to bed. [A funny story without the punchline. There may be some disadvantages to this technique]

March 2009

The Princess, at her request, started ballet classes before Christmas. [Which she then gave up]

April 2009

The Princess and I had a day off together last Friday. [I am clearly a good mother to one of my children]

May 2009

I was at mass with my mother in Cork last week. [And a good daughter too]

June 2009

The weather was spectacular this weekend. [Fascinating]

July 2009

Still no sign of doggy. [Anguish]

August 2009

The Princess and I graced Cork briefly over the weekend. [Definitely a good mother to one of my children]

September 2009

I am very fond of Janet and Allan Ahlberg’s books which provide delightful rhymes for the children and plenty of pictorial interest for the parents who end up reading and re-reading. [Now so]

October 2009

The Irish people will be voting again on the Lisbon Treaty tomorrow. [YES, they voted YES.]

November 2009

Really, why would I do this again? [This would be NaBloPoMo]

December 2009

I am on leave today and occupying myself with domestic administration. [Another fascinating opening line]

New year’s resolution: Make opening lines more interesting.

And a happy new year to you, gentle reader. Please stick with me, I intend to make my opening lines more interesting.

Feeling Sentimental

24 December, 2009
Posted in: Boys, Dublin, Ireland, Princess

Since the afternoon driving home from work when I had the slash and burn budget on RTE radio 1, child abuse on Today FM, general economic doom and gloom on Newstalk and yet more cricket on Radio 4, I have, increasingly been listening to Christmas FM. The clue is in the title, they play Christmas music interspersed with DJ chatter – it’s manned by volunteers and all profits go to a homeless charity. I have learnt that there are an awful lot of dreadful Christmas tunes, I like the Enya Christmas song (I know) and even “Fairytale of New York” will pall eventually. My children now believe that Wham’s “Last Christmas” is as much part of the seasonal canon as “Hark! The Herald Angels Sing” and, who knows, perhaps they are right. You haven’t lived until you have heard three small children singing about how this year they will be giving their hearts “to someone especial, especial..”

One afternoon while in the kitchen unloading the dishwasher I heard an unappealing Christmas ditty about my “grown-up Christmas list”. The singer was hoping that Santa would bring her world peace. I found myself thinking idly along the following lines: that is so stupid, Santa doesn’t even come to grown-ups and, of course, children won’t ask for world peace, selfish little blighters. Then I stopped and reflected that even if our children DID ask for world peace, it might be a difficult one to deliver. Does this mean that deep down I still believe in Santa Claus?

Merry Christmas to all and to all a good night.

A martyr to grammar

23 December, 2009
Posted in: Mr. Waffle, Work

My husband is doing a bit of occasional lecturing work to keep us from starvation. He gave his students an essay recently. The texts are now in and it appears that the majority of his students are completely illiterate. His last lecture of the term focussed on what is likely to come up in the examination in January. He prefaced it by announcing that the thing most likely to increase their success in the examination was gaining a working knowledge of the use of the apostrophe. “How did they take that?” I asked. “They only started writing when I told them the topics they needed to cover for the examination.” I understand that Sophocles had similar problems with the younger generation.

Meanwhile, I too suffer for my love of grammar. Consider the following email exchange.

From: Former colleague A
To: Former colleague B
CC: Me
Subject: Lunch

I had mentioned to Anne we were meeting up and took the liberty of asking her along on Tuesday – is that ok with you? We can always gag her if she keeps talking about Cork!

From: Former colleague A
To: Me
Subject: Lunch

[In response to indignant reply from me]. So, is next Tuesday, ok?

From: Me
To: FCA
Subject: Lunch

Good.

From: FCA
To: Me
Subject: Lunch

Is that an endorsement of my literary style, a reflection of inner well being, or an indication of attendance?

From: Me
To: Former colleague A
Subject: Lunch

No, no and yes.

From: Former colleague A
To: Me
Subject: Lunch

How dare you insult my writings

From: Me
To: Former colleague A
Subject: Lunch

You forgot the question mark.

From: Former colleague A
To: Me
Subject: Lunch

I see your own literary style still tends to pedantic.

Mr. Waffle’s Moment of Truth

22 December, 2009
Posted in: Boys, Daniel, Michael, Mr. Waffle

Daniel: Is there actimel in my lunch box?
Mr. Waffle: No, but there is fruit: grapes and apple.
Daniel and Michael in chorus: I don’t like grapes.
Mr. Waffle: No Michael, there is a banana for you.
Michael: I don’t want a banana.
Mr. Waffle: Well, Michael, every day you get a banana for school and it doesn’t come home so, I assume, something happens to it in school.
Michael: Yes, I put it in the bin.

And in today’s link section, an appealing post by a woman whose school sandwiches are never rejected because (insert really terrified gasp here), she homeschools her children.

One for the Greens or, in the wake of Copenhagen, it’s not all bad.

21 December, 2009
Posted in: Dublin, Ireland

We have a green bin for plastic, paper and tins, we recycle glass, we have a brown bin for biodegradeable waste and a black bin for everything else (this last goes to landfill). Each of these bins is collected once a fortnight. My very organised husband has had to work on a list of which bin goes out on what night.

To my absolute astonishment, we sometimes only need to put out the black bin once a month. True, we now have no nappies but we are still a family of five with small children who are known to go through mountains of stuff. What is amazing is how much of it is recyclable or compostable. Oh God, I am becoming a green bore. Save me.

Turning into our mothers

18 December, 2009
Posted in: Family, Reading etc.

Lesley has a post about how we all start using our mothers’ catch phrases: she lists six of her mother’s which she uses. Here are six of my mother’s that I use and, should you feel inspired to give six of your mother’s in your own blog (or in the comments, if you haven’t got one, surely you have), I will have started a meme (stolen from Lesley, but never mind).

So here we go:

1. You would drive a horse from his oats.
2. You never lost it [this is negative, trust me].
3. What you’re told, when you’re told.
4. Tidy and you’ll find.
5. What can’t be cured must be endured.
6. The best is the enemy of the good.

Thus far I have, however, successfully avoided:

1. Quarrel implies fault on both sides [so annoying this one] and
2. You can but you may not.

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