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Archives for August 2019

Unpolished

25 August, 2019
Posted in: Boys, Daniel

Daniel was called upon to do the first reading at mass this morning at short notice. It’s still the summer, it’s all a bit disorganised. As he scuttled on to the altar clutching the missalette in his hand, I was quietly confident but then I had a quick scan and was less so. This was the reading he saw for the first time on the altar and had to read aloud.

The Lord says this: I am coming to gather the nations of every language. They shall come to witness my glory. I will give them a sign and send some of their survivors to the nations: to Tarshish, Put, Lud, Moshech, Rosh, Tubal and Javan, to the distant islands that have not heard of me or seen my glory. They will proclaim my glory to the nations. As an offering to the Lord they will bring all your brothers, on horses, in chariots, in litters, on mules, on dromedaries from all the nations, to my holy mountain in Jerusalem says the Lord, like Israelites bringing oblations in clean vessels to temple of the Lord. And of some of them I will make priests and Levites, says the Lord.

He actually sailed through it. He’s a great reader and he has a lovely deep voice and speaks slowly and clearly. No one could blame him for this but it was unfortunate that he mispronounced Tarshish as Tarnish.

In other news, we’re back. Holiday updates to follow. Hold on to your hats etc.

On Holidays

6 August, 2019
Posted in: Dublin, Family, Ireland

I finished work on Friday. We are off on our Baltic adventure tomorrow. Since Friday we have been to a successful family barbecue notwithstanding apocalyptic weather warnings; admired the prowess of extended family members who ran the Dun Laoghaire 10k;

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and been to Taytopark – the amusement park devoted to the crisp, you will recall.

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This morning I went to the school uniform shop – not my most exciting adventure – it was heaving. “Today is child benefit day,” the shop assistant explained to me. A depressing thought made even more depressing by the costliness of my own purchases. My purchases limited, following an extensive trying on session at home, to two tracksuit bottoms and one tracksuit top came to €88 which is pricy for pure nylon with a crest in my view.

This afternoon, Mr. Waffle and I went to St. Audeon’s for a visit. I love this church. If I were a Protestant, on Sundays I would make my poor misfortunate children go to services in the range of neglected churches in the city centre. God, they would hate that. Here is a picture of George Petrie’s picture of St. Audeon’s when it was already falling down in the 19th century:

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And here it is this afternoon (much preserved by the Office of Public Works, you will be glad to hear):

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We went to Christ Church to see the restored heart of Laurence O’Toole. Somebody stole it from the church but they brought it back. Sadly it was locked away in a side altar and inaccessible.

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When we were leaving, Mr. Waffle mentioned to the woman on the desk that it was locked. “Wait a minute,” said she and leaving other more exotic but less well informed tourists outside, she took us in to the altar. Very gratifying. I can confirm that the metal casing remains unchanged.

Now we are largely packed for an early departure tomorrow. What further excitements might await?

Posting will be light to non-existent until our return at the end of August.

Insights from the Garden

4 August, 2019
Posted in: Boys, Daniel

Me: Oh look at the lovely sunflowers in that garden.

Daniel: I don’t think they really go with the look of our road.

Me: Why not?

Him: They say ‘young people frolicking in the sun’.

Me: And what is the general look of our road then?

Him: Old people tending to brightly coloured shrubs.

Me: Actually, that is true.

A Paean to the Public Library

3 August, 2019
Posted in: Cork, Dublin, Ireland, Reading etc.

I cannot speak with enough enthusiasm about the library service. I never went to the library much as a child. This quote from CS Lewis has always spoken to me:

“I am a product of long corridors, empty sunlit rooms, upstairs indoor silences, attics explored in solitude, distant noises of gurgling cisterns and pipes, and the noise of wind under the tiles. Also, of endless books. My father bought all the books he read and never got rid of any of them. There were books in the study, books in the drawing room, books in the cloakroom, books (two deep) in the great bookcase on the landing, books in a bedroom, books piled as high as my shoulder in the cistern attic, books of all kinds reflecting every transient stage of my parents’ interest, books readable and unreadable, books suitable for a child and books most emphatically not. Nothing was forbidden me. In the seemingly endless rainy afternoons I took volume after volume from the shelves. I had always the same certainty of finding a book that was new to me as a man who walks into a field has of finding a new blade of grass.”

That said, although I similarly had access to all my parents’ books suitable and unsuitable, the library would have brought some welcome additional variety to the stock of children’s books available. My sister became a youthful aficionado of the library and was always going in to the book club run by the librarian. I looked upon her with disdain. Foolish me.

Mr. Waffle as a child was a regular at the local library so when our own children came along, we got into the habit of going to the library. The scales fell from my eyes. What a truly wonderful service.

I continue to marvel at the ability to go into a library anywhere in the country and take out a book and then return it in my local branch or vice versa. When my sister-in-law and her family were in Cork recently (a triumph, of course), they went to the library in the city (it’s a good one) and borrowed some books to return in Dublin.

I have not bought a book in ages; almost anything I read, I order from the library. I am at a bit of a loss to understand how, on this basis, our house continues to be absolutely falling down with books. A mystery.

I recently went to investigate the newly renovated city centre library in Kevin Street. It’s a delight. My photo is of the children’s library in an attempt to lure my sister-in-law and little niece there but the adult reading room is quite lovely like an old study.

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And the other day, when I was in the library, I noticed that they have a new digital borrowing service called Borrow Box where you can download ebooks and audio books. Just as I am setting off on my holidays. What is not to love?

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