I brought some papers home from work recently and when they came back into the office, this scrap of paper floated on to the desk:
It was written to emphasise that the writer did not want to miss out.
I sent an email reply as follows:
From: Me
To: HerselfSubject: Yes
I got my hair cut last week. My hairdresser says that in 32 years of cutting hair, he has never met anyone whose hair grows more slowly than mine. I had my last haircut in December 2014.
In the 13 months since it was last cut, it had grown out to look like this (including slightly askew glasses because now I need them to watch the television, sigh).
A bit unruly. I wanted the hairdresser to cut it shorter than he did but he resisted. I think that, sadly, he thinks that I am too old for very short hair. He referred cheerily to the fringe he was cutting as “nature’s botox”. My hairdresser is very trendy so I think the cut might be a bit fashion forward. Or at least I thought so when I emerged from the hairdresser. I only took this picture after I had washed it myself. Is it just me, or does it look a bit early Aha?
Well, it has a year to grow out, anyhow.
My sister was in India for work last week and bought me another new rug, She got me a lovely one for the hall a couple of years ago and it is lasting beautifully.
This new one which is winging its way from India as I type is much bigger though. I am filled with excitement and suitably grateful.
She said to me that she had bought the rug but I wouldn’t get any big presents until I was 50. I was cast down (though still very grateful) but then cheered at the thought that 50 wasn’t as far away as it once was. And then cast down again at the thought that 50 wasn’t as far away as it once was. It was a roller coaster, I can tell you.
I am going to Cork at the weekend to rescue the rug and bring it back to Dublin. Photos to follow. Hold on to your hats there.
Updated to add – it arrived in Cork yesterday, impressively packed.
It was windy and wet this morning and Mr. Waffle gave herself a lift to school. She rang me just before she got the bus home. Later she told me that this was the last moment before her life changed irrevocably (slight exaggeration but prepare yourself mentally).
She sat beside her friend and realised that she was feeling a bit damp. She hopped up and discovered that there was a distinct tang of urine from the plush seat and, now, her school skirt and tights were wet too. Some incontinent Dublin bus customer had pre-enjoyed her seat. As she said to me later when she had emerged from a lengthy shower and the skirt and tights were through the wash, “I know it’s an odd thing to say but I think it was worse that it was the wee of a person who would wee on a bus.” I totally know what she means.
I’d say she will be keener on the bike tomorrow regardless of the weather.
Last year I resolved that we would a have a dinner party every month. This was a spectacularly poor resolution which was only intermittently successful and nearly sent us to an early grave. We made a list of all the people we wanted to have over but far fewer of them than expected made it off the list.
This year, I have two more modest and, I hope, achievable resolutions. The first is to try to meet again people I have lost contact with – I have already had a notable success in January finally managing to meet an old friend with whom I soldiered in the salt mines as an apprentice solicitor more than 20 years ago. She lives in a distant southern suburb of Dublin and mostly doesn’t work outside home. But I went as far south as I could and she came north and we managed to meet for an early lunch in the city centre before she had to go and collect her youngest from pre-school. I was pleased. She is from Cork and it was nice to compare notes with another exile married to a Dubliner. Her marriage is further mixed in that she is Protestant and he is Catholic and both of them seem to care (which in my experience is rather unusual). She tells me that they alternate between Catholic mass one Sunday and Protestant service the next. This is an arrangement which I imagine is not entirely satisfactory to either and somewhat confusing for the children but marriage is all about compromise and I suppose it is all part of life’s rich tapestry. Anyhow, I digress. 2016 will be the year for digging up long lost friends and I already have January sorted.
My second resolution is to try to spend more time alone. I am mostly with people: working, lunching, bonding with my loving family. But I love to be alone. I am aiming for half an hour a day, we’ll see how that goes.
I am not fooling myself that my third resolution will be easy but I want to try to do something about the piano this year. Wish me luck.
January isn’t over yet, I can still review.
Let’s have the first line from the first post of every month and a photo and the odd comment from me in italics, something I last did with 2012 but I feel a revival is timely.
January
My mother always says that the people you end up being friends with are the parents of your children’s friends.
Picture is the Long Room Library in Trinity which we visited in January.
February
About this time last year I took Michael to Cork.
It was also pretty cold in February.
March
I was late leaving work this evening which often happens because I am busy and constitutionally ill-adapted to being on time.
Carlingford again in the picture.
April
Mr. Waffle is a shadow of his former self.
Herself turned 12 and went to Hogwarts for her birthday. It was a success.
May
I went to see the Anu production about Gallipoli with herself in Collins Barracks.
The Princess was confirmed. I went to Antrim with some friends and have been desperate to get back there with my little family ever since. It’s beautiful. The picture is taken near the Giant’s Causeway.
June
Can you think of anything that involves feta, watermelon, ham and chorizo?
I got a new bike! Herself finished primary school. It was all go.
July
I seized the day.
The photo was taken on one of our many trips to Charles Fort. Uniquely, on this trip, the sun shone. We also went to Kerry in July. Mostly, the sun did not shine there.
August
On Wednesday evening I went for a walk in Dalkey at the southern end of Dublin Bay.
The picture is from Ireland’s Eye near Howth at the opposite end of the bay. At the end of August, herself started secondary school. Very exciting if a bit startling.
September
We left the house in good time.
I posted on our August holiday in France in September. The picture is from Caen. The boys turned ten this month – officially into double digits.
October
We come back from holidays in late August and it is heritage week, then there is the fringe theatre festival, then the theatre festival, then culture night, then open house, now there’s the Dublin festival of history and something called gallery weekend as well and by mid-October we are so exhausted that we can face no cultural events for the following twelve months.
November
Another Nablopomo is upon us. I will be posting every day in November. This post would be longer except I am unwell and going to bed early.
My sister turned 40 and we all went to the party.
December
Last night the Princess asked me whether I was a Jo and Laurie person or an Amy and Laurie person.
I didn’t post a single picture in December which seems a mistake but here’s one taken in December anyhow.
