Archives for September 2020

Re-entry

1 September, 2020
Posted in: Boys, Daniel, Ireland, Michael, Mr. Waffle, Princess, Work

Thursday, August 20, 2020

It was the last day of my holidays. Mr. Waffle and I went out for breakfast. Our regular handyman came to the house to do various small jobs (he has finally accepted that our DIY capacities are rock bottom). I discovered the hard way that our local library now closes at 4. Herself is a bit gloomy about teenage parties she has dutifully not gone to but pictures of which fill her social media feeds.

Friday, August 21, 2020

Back to work for a half day. The advantage of working while on holidays is, I suppose, that the inbox isn’t too overwhelming on return. Scant comfort really. Mr. Waffle and I went out to a local cafe for a cup of tea and the waitress said, “Didn’t you used to go to the Pain Quotidien in town? I remember you because of the Earl Grey.” Sadly, it appears that the Dublin PQ has closed permanently. I have to tell you this is not the first time I have been recognised by someone in a cafe in these circumstances. I think I am known as “Earl Grey” lady all over Dublin.

We had our first cinema night in a while and Daniel chose “Coach Carter” which I would never have watched otherwise but we all found quite enjoyable. I think cinema night might survive even when Covid ends.

Saturday, August 22, 2020

Much of the day was spent in a vain hunt for grey school trousers for a child who is both tall and very skinny. Then we were going to a friend’s house for dinner but she got a cold and on the better safe than sorry principle she suggested that we put it back a week in case it was the dreaded Covid. Alas.

Sunday, August 23, 2020

I had an almost normal afternoon in town. I went to the shops, I had a wander round the art gallery. It was quite lovely.

Monday, August 24, 2020

The full immersive return to work experience. Could have been worse, I suppose.

The applied maths teacher has got a job in Galway. Herself was doing it outside school so it’s a bit hard to see how we are going to find someone else to deliver the course to her in Irish. The teacher called the students and said that he doesn’t want to leave them in the lurch so promised to drive up from Galway every weekend so that he can cover the course with her and the three other students who are doing it outside school. Which is pretty decent but I wonder will it be feasible?

Tuesday, August 25, 2020

We got news from the school that one of the children’s teachers had died. We were all a bit shocked. She hadn’t been unwell as far as we knew. She was about 60 I’d say and a big smoker so I do wonder whether it might have been Covid. No one can go to the funeral, of course.

Wednesday, August 26, 2020

There was a picture in the paper of first years in school with masks with the school crest on them. It felt a bit dystopian and I was pretty gloomy. Herself was concerned that her own school might follow them on the uniform/mask front as she has some pretty exciting masks that she is keen to try out in school which she believes that, based on current policy, the uniform police will be powerless to resist.

And this back to school kit in the window of the chemist’s is a bit miserable as well.

And then the latest road map is a bit off-putting.

Still on the plus side, I visited the Asia Market (enormous place on Drury Street cunningly concealed by falsely tiny looking shop front) which I found full of interesting if baffling produce and herself made dinner again.

Thursday, August 27, 2020

The children were all going back to the primary school at the end of the road. It was lovely to see them heading in on their flotilla of bikes and scooters.

Mr. Waffle mentioned to our butcher that he had seen a Northern Irish van with his name on it and was it any relation? It was his first cousin who has a butcher’s shop in Portrush. Our own butcher’s father was from Derry and his mother from the Glens of Antrim. He was born in Derry but they moved down south when he was three. Fancy that.

Michael’s school trousers which I had ordered online arrived. A perfect fit but black instead of regulation gray. Weeping and gnashing of teeth.

Friday, August 28, 2020

God, I was soaked on the cycle into work. I squelched around the building with wet feet all morning. I was on the phone to a colleague and we spent about 2 minutes dealing with a work issue and a further 20 moaning about how grim it all is. He won because he lives in Kildare and is still in lock down with his two primary age children.

I’ve been re-reading a great diary anthology this year. A lot of the diaries are from World War II and as you read them you can see how heavily it weighs on people that they have no idea how or when it will end. As a modern reader you’re thinking, June 1943, only two years to go but they have no idea. It’s strange to me writing this to find myself in a slightly similar situation with Covid – not knowing when or if it will end and finding that pretty wearing.

I returned Michael’s trousers to Marks and Spencer but none in his size available in the shop or online or in Dunnes. The school authorities will kill us if we can’t unearth a pair. Finally got trousers in a specialist uniform shop. They should be made from raw silk at the cost of them. They are not.

The school has made changes to the uniform this year and herself has complained about this quite a bit. She tried it on for us to inspect. Her complaints are warranted. It’s awful. Only one more year, I suppose.

Michael chose the remake of “Total Recall” for cinema night. Poor Michael, it was our first total dud. Quite dreadful.

Saturday, August 29, 2020

I spent most of the afternoon taming the garden as a kind of displacement activity. I did not complete the work task I had set myself. Alas. The garden looks amazing though.

Mr. Waffle and I went out to dinner to a friend’s house. Very thrilling and most enjoyable.

Sunday, August 30, 2020

We had the cousins over. We were able to sit in my newly hacked back garden. Time well spent.

Getting a Bit Closer

6 September, 2020
Posted in: Boys, Daniel, Dublin, Ireland, Michael, Mr. Waffle, Princess

Monday, August 31, 2020

Herself went back to school. It was alright. She is not loving the new uniform.

I discovered that some more people I knew were having Covid tests and having been exposed to them – even though their doctor said it was fine – I thought I should possibly stay away from other people to the extent possible.

Tuesday, September 1, 2020

Back working from home. Absolutely dire. Just does not suit me. Conference called in to a meeting at work where others were physically there and it is a nightmare particularly since my head was in super large high definition telly. Snapped at the poor children who tried to talk to their mother.

I was pleased to see herself had invited some friends back and they were out in the garden social distancing dutifully. They all hate the new uniform.

Wednesday, September 2, 2020

It was lashing rain this morning. Herself insisted on cycling to school because she wanted to be able to cycle home so that she would be back in time to do a practice interview. She’s doing an interview for an arts organisation – they want to get closer to young people so they had a competition open to secondary students. Prize is interviewing an artist. She has done a lot of preparation and, in fairness, the arts body has taken it pretty seriously too.

Daniel and Michael are both working in (separate) charity shops every Wednesday afternoon as part of their Transition Year work experience. It was so strange seeing them off to what were, effectively, their first jobs. They were both a bit nervous. It seemed to go fine though; they both seem to have spent a fair bit of time organising DVDs. Daniel got to spend time on the till though so that was exciting. He said that all of the customers were young alternative fashion types like his sister or old women. “Which did you prefer?” I asked. Definitely the young women. Apparently, they come up quietly to the counter and hand over their money but the old women insist on trying things on in the corner of the shop ignoring the fact that the changing room is closed for Covid and mortifying him.

Rain poured in through the roof of the utility room. Alas. We are definitely going to do work on it but at the same time, it can’t be left leaking for the next 12 months. Mr. Waffle is going to call a roofer. Oh dear.

And in the good news ledger, one negative Covid test notification. Just waiting for confirmation of a second person as negative and I can return to the office. I am surprised how much this fills me with joy.

Thursday, September 3, 2020

The boys went back to school for a couple of hours for Covid induction. There was some confusion about whether they could continue in their charity jobs or not but in the end, it was approved and they are quite pleased.

Another negative Covid test and I am cleared to go back into the office. Delighted with myself.

As ever at this time, the apple situation is critical.

Three apple trees is at least two too many.

I have made several apple tarts, herself made a very elaborate one this evening, heavily dependent on apples. We spent what felt like hours peeling.

But worth it.

Friday, September 4, 2020

I went in to the office (met loads of councillors on a site visit to the filtered permeability i.e. bollards at the end of the road – confirmed my enthusiastic support) the children went to school. Even Mr. Waffle went out for a while. This was naturally the cue for various deliveries to be made which we were then not at home to receive. I picked them up from the post office later and got sternly lectured about the quality of the envelopes that the senders were using. I got into our local library for the first time since lockdown. They’ve reorganised a bit and it’s all self-service now but nice to be back.

For film night we had “Sully”. It’s about that plane that landed on the Hudson. It’s directed by Clint Eastwood and I thought it had a very old fashioned view of men and women. Men were calm, brave and pretty much emotion free and women were incidental bit characters. Wasn’t a great film either, a bit episodic.

Saturday, September 5, 2020

The apple crisis continues unabated. I have made apple jelly. Apple chutney is in my future. You need a lot of apples to make a small quantity of apple jelly. Great news.

Mr. Waffle and I cycled into town for a wander around. It was grand and busy I thought. We had a cup of tea and a bun in the newly reopened Bewley’s cafe. Gratifying. We sat beside the Harry Clarke window and admired dutifully. Some of his stuff can be strange as well as beautiful.

Sunday, September 6, 2020

We didn’t get up to much. We forced the boys out on a lovely cycle through the park (now, sadly, reopened to cars) which they enjoyed about as much as you might expect.

And how is your own new normal going?

Pandemic Rereading

8 September, 2020
Posted in: Reading etc.

I tweeted a picture of all the Georgette Heyers in the house a couple of years ago.

All the Georgette Heyers in my house ?@georgettedaily? pic.twitter.com/ysPaoxKuda
— Anne (@Belgianwaffle) December 23, 2018

I have considerably increased my stock since then.

These books come from a range of sources:

A lot of them are old editions from the 50s and 60s that come from my parents’ house. Though I have already rescued many of these, there are still more.
Some of them I bought myself before my parents’ copies became mine.
Many of them came from a friend of my parents who handed them over before she died (a delightful woman, she was the aunt of a famous Cork actress and I often point to the Waterford Crystal bowl she – my parents’ friend – gave Mr. Waffle and me when we got married which sits on our mantelpiece any say to the children “Harry Potter’s Aunt Petunia’s aunt gave that to us” to universal indifference).
One was a really thoughtful present – a first edition given to me by a friend in Brussels many years ago.
A further six (yes, six) hard cover first editions were given to me for my 50th birthday by one of my bookclubs.

So, I’m going to talk about them all and if you are not a Georgette Heyer fan, you’re probably best off turning away now. Like Stella Gibbons in “Cold Comfort Farm”, I’m going to asterix the ones I think are best.

** “Arabella” is a lovely not quite rags to riches story. It was one of my mother’s favourites and I am very fond of it myself. I love how Arabella’s family who largely don’t feature in the book are so elaborately and lovingly drawn in the first few chapters. There are some wonderful set pieces involving Arabella’s well developed sense of justice.

I am not a massive fan of “Bath Tangle”. I will read it, if I’ve read all the others too often but I find the heroine a pain which is never great. I have three copies of it all the same (one of them a first edition), just to be on the safe side.

“The Black Moth” is pretty dire. Famously, it’s her first book written when she was 18 to amuse her convalescent brother (I say famously as this is inside most of the books in the about the author bit, so only famously for a certain value of famously). As a rule, any of the books that features characters saying, “‘Pon rep” are not a good bet. Free tip for you right there.

“Black Sheep” is another one set in Bath and I just don’t seem to really go for Bath ones though they have given me an abiding wish to visit Bath, as yet unrealised.

“Charity Girl” is ok. The title character is a bit mawkish (as Georgette herself would say) but her con artist father is worth the price of admission.

**”A Civil Contract” is one of my own favourites. It’s about an avowed marriage of convenience and how the parties get on. There are some great characters including the hero’s first love who is hilariously dreadful and his mother who is unbearable.

“The Conqueror” is just dreadful and I retain it for completeness only. I read it many years ago and I can’t face re-reading. It’s historical, about William the Conqueror and unreadably awful. Worse even than “Beauvallet” which I haven’t read since I was a teenager.

“The Convenient Marriage” isn’t bad but not quite as good as it might be. It’s one of the few set almost entirely inside a marriage.

“The Corinthian” is not one I particularly like. Pen is an annoying heroine and acts her age which is, if I recall correctly, about 17. On the other hand, it is a regency romance, so that’s something.

**”Cotillion” is one of my favourites, possibly my favourite. The slightly gormless guy gets the girl and it is enjoyable and full of fun. The father of the hero is a consistently entertaining bit player and there are loads of great characters. A real ensemble effort with a great cast of characters. I have four copies including a first edition.

“Cousin Kate” has an over elaborate an slightly gothic plot line involving madness and murder which does not appeal to me but, you know, it’s grand.

“Devil’s Cub” is one of the few sequels she wrote (it’s a sequel to “These Old Shades” which was very popular). I don’t love it. I didn’t love “These Old Shades” and felt no particular joy in being reunited with these characters which is at least part of the charm. But I’ve re-read it. More than once.

**I love “False Colours”. I am beginning to realise, as I write this, that I like best the ones with a great ensemble cast. This one has that. It’s about twins who swap places and as well as the hero and heroine, whom I like, features an elderly dandy, a former mistress and a miserly uncle all of whom are quite funny.

“Faro’s Daughter” is alright. It features a rather annoying Irish sidekick who says “me darlin'” a lot and that tends to annoy.

*”Frederica” is a classic with loads of great characters. I find Frederica herself a bit irritating from time to time but overall it’s a lovely book.

*”Friday’s Child” is one I do quite like with some fantastically entertaining characters including the dastardly Sir Montagu Revesby who gets his comeuppance and cousin Ferdy who is dim but charming but I always had a reservation about this one because Sherry is always threatening to box Kitten’s ears (also very stupid nickname) and I am not sure the domestic violence trope has aged as well as it might.

**”The Foundling” is a favourite of mine – not really a romance, just a coming of age story about a charming if unsure hero. The romance is incidental. It features an inept but entertaining villain.

*”The Grand Sophy” is many people’s favourite Georgette Heyer and was mine until I made a college boyfriend read it. “It’s alright except for the anti-antisemitism in the middle,” he said. Once seen, cannot be unseen.

“Lady of Quality” is another dull Bath epic. Only alright, if you ask me.

**I reread “The Nonesuch” very recently but I can’t find my copy anywhere. Ominous. I thought I might never read it again. We had it in the cabinet in my mother’s nursing home and I used to read it to her when I visited. Partly for her, partly for me. We both loved the heiress Tiffany Wield; bold as brass and inclined to tantrums. I was so sad after my mother died that I thought I might never read it again but I did.

“Pistols for Two” is a book of short stories. They are pretty deftly done and a good introduction to her style. Some are better than others and the title story is probably the best.

“The Quiet Gentleman” features a practical and enjoyable heroine but the murder mystery aspect is not for me.

“Regency Buck” is only alright. I would not recommend it but I have read it a couple of times.

“The Reluctant Widow” has a special place in my affections as it’s the first Georgette Heyer book I ever read. It’s not very good but I was not, it appears, a very discerning 13 year old. I still remember my complete shock that the heroine marries the hero. “But she didn’t even like him,” I thought on my first introduction to a not uncommon romantic trope.

“Sprig Muslin” is a bit idiotic. It’s about a runaway who an older man protects which finally leads him to appreciate his fiancÃ©e’s true worth. Alright at best.

“Sylvester” is not for me, I fear. The hero has weird eyebrows and that’s probably the most interesting bit. The plot involves kidnap and is needlessly convoluted.

“The Talisman Ring” is set pre-Regency period and like anything of hers outside her best era, is poor. The heroine is deeply irritating.

“These Old Shades” is alright. I used to like it better when I was younger. It’s outside the Regency period and, as ever, these are just not as good, in my view.

“The Toll Gate” is another one that is more detective than romance but I have a bit of a soft spot for it as I have a lovely first edition and neither the hero nor heroine is irritating.

**”The Unknown Ajax” is such a favourite of mine. I have read it more times than I can say. It made me keen to visit Rye (it’s set nearby) which is, incidentally, well worth a visit. The hero is a delight, the heroine is great and all the bit characters are richly rewarding. I cannot recommend it highly enough.

*”Venetia” is reasonably good. The story is a bit unlikely but the heroine is engaging and things really pick up when her new sister-in-law and her mother turn up at the house.

I also re-read a fair bit of Terry Pratchett whose Discworld books I find appealing and undemanding which is ideal for a pandemic.

I listened to all the Harry Potter books on audio walking around the block at lunchtime. It was a lengthy commitment but I quite enjoyed it. I find some aspects of the books a bit disturbing now. I mean house elves and their weird speaking patterns and enjoying being enslaved? What exactly is that about?

I also re-read all the Hercule Poirot short stories. I must say, I thought they held up pretty well. A much better read than I remembered.

It’s not quite re-reading but Mr. Waffle got me a subscription to Slightly Foxed for my birthday which is a quarterly publication which has essays on older books which have fallen out of favour or are not widely known and I found it a real pleasure to read. Unlike the London Review of Books which was, frankly, anxiety inducing it’s undemanding and comes infrequently. I love it. They’ve also got a wonderful monthly podcast.

I gave up my intensive re-reading on my summer holidays. Probably for the best but the publications above took me through the early phases of the pandemic and I can only say that I am grateful for old favourites.

Season of Mists and Mellow Fruitfulness

20 September, 2020
Posted in: Boys, Cork, Daniel, Dublin, Family, Ireland, Michael, Mr. Waffle, Princess

Monday, September 7, 2020

It lashed rain. Except for Mr. Waffle, we were all back at school and work – not virtually but really. It was not the weather for a real commute but we were all pretty glad to be back except Michael who is not one bit glad, not even slightly glad and pines for lockdown.

Tuesday, September 8, 2020

There were some teething problems with the boys’ new bikes. They could not keep their school bags on their new carriers. I went and attached them using my superior skills but they informed me bitterly that evening that they came off and fell into the puddles, if anything, even faster than when they had attached them by themselves. Further work required.

There was heady excitement about the filtered permeability (or bollards) at the end of the road which local councillors were to vote on. I honestly don’t know when there has been more interest in a traffic calming measure. You will be delighted to hear that councillors voted to extend the trial to end January. Yes, I know, you’re fascinated.

My sister sent the children presents to celebrate their return to school. Great excitement.

I made apple chutney. Less excitement.

Mr. Waffle seriously endangered our marriage by going out and buying four apples. I nearly had a fit. He now knows, that if he wants an apple he should get up a ladder and pick one, I’m not even making him eat windfalls.

Wednesday, September 9, 2020

We discovered that Michael had no runners. I could wish that he had told us this before 8 in the morning on the day he was going to an adventure centre. He took mine. I’m not bitter.

I met a friend for lunch in town – v thrilling indeed. Slowly things are returning to normal. Rejoice.

Thursday, September 10, 2020

I picked some more apples – literally the low-hanging fruit. When will the apple harvest end? The boys did a thing that sounded like some kind of away day management exercise at school. They absolutely loved it; its the most enthusiastic I’ve ever seen them both after a day at school. When Transition Year works, it’s really good.

Friday, September 11, 2020

Yet again, I arrived at the library doors 3 minutes before closing and, yet again, I was denied entry to paradise. Yes, there’s a message there. I dropped an enormous jar of very hot apple jelly on the kitchen floor and spent the next hour mopping and picking up broken glass and it was still sticky underfoot for days. Sigh.

For cinema night, we watched “Fire Saga” which wasn’t bad but would have been better if the children had ever seen the Eurovision Song Contest.

Saturday, September 12, 2020

I got an early train to Cork. It was a beautiful morning when I arrived. It’s hard to think of anywhere nicer than Cork in sunshine. I stopped off at the Crawford gallery on the way to my parents’ house. Not one but two friends sent me this link while I was actually in the gallery. Hard to know what to say. We intellectuals are often got at.

'The definition of an intellectual in Cork is someone who goes into the Crawford Art Gallery when it isn't raining'

Top tips for Dubs heading for Cork to avoid lockdown.#askaudreyvids #askaudrey #Cork @CrawfordArtGall #Dublin pic.twitter.com/uTLRvUoVgP
— Reggie, Blackrock Road (@Askaudreylike) September 11, 2020

I see that the gallery has a new acquisition, a picture which appears in another picture – one of my favourite things.

I saw everyone in the family, my 95 year old father, my 91 year old aunt, my brother and my sister and prayed that I was not infecting them with stray germs from Covid-ridden Dublin. In my further family history explorations, I discovered that growing up my father and aunt had a terrier called Sandy whom my father cordially loathed, apparently Sandy was very nippy and it was a rush to close the gate so that the postman could get out with his ankles intact. This may explain why he was never open to getting a family dog. His father died when he was very young and he didn’t seem much of his father’s family afterwards but he asked me to check the census to see whether he had had an aunt Nan. He had. He said that he remembered her crying as she sewed black diamonds on to the men’s sleeves when his grandfather (his father’s father) died. He also said that Uncle Jack his father’s brother was very good at maths and used to give grinds. Those good at maths genes passed down to my father but skipped neatly over me and on to herself who also really enjoys maths.

Sunday, September 13, 2020

A mad dash for the train which I just about made. It turns out you can cycle from my parents’ house to the station in 20 minutes but I wouldn’t recommend it.

I got home and found that the apple jelly had failed to set. Typical.

Monday, September 14, 2020

I had another lunch out. Let joy be unconfined.

Tuesday, September 15, 2020

Lunch out again. I’m on a roll here. We discover that Michael does not in fact love working in a charity shop on Wednesday afternoons for Transition Year. Daniel continues keen though, so there’s that.

Wednesday, September 16, 2020

Apple stocks are at crisis levels and there are still three trees full of apples out the back.

When I was growing up, my parents had 11 or 12 apple trees in the back gardens which were a magnet for local children who would come in and steal them much to my father’s chagrin – I remember him running out to the garden in fury and children scattering at speed. On one memorable occasion, a classmate was telling me about a great place for “slogging apples”. The expression was new to me but the meaning was clear. On investigation it turned out to be my garden which left me feeling a little awkward but she was charmed by the discovery. Frankly, at this stage I would welcome an apple slogger.

Dublin is on Level 2+ of the new national Covid plan and I reflect guiltily on my lunches out.

Thursday, September 17, 2020

Daniel is doing this course on Thursdays during Transition Year – it’s a university level taster thing. Did he know anyone on the course? Yes, Ben who he met on a summer science course a couple of years ago. They are like debutantes, these middle class children – they keep meeting the same people on the circuit.

A friend I met for lunch posted me some masks made by her 15 year old daughter. They are amazing – v. impressively constructed. Herself instantly nicked them both. I’ve ordered a couple of more as I think masks are going to be with us for the long haul.

We get an email from the principal saying that there is a confirmed Covid case in the school. Not a surprise but not exactly welcome news either.

Friday, September 18, 2020

With the greatest difficulty I acquire an Irish textbook for Michael from the Irish language bookshop in town which was closed but opened its doors to me when I tapped on the window. I was justifiably proud.

Mr. Waffle and I go out for a last lunch before lockdown. We also picked up a couple of pictures of herself I had dropped in for framing – dear but worth it. I make more jelly. It sets. What will I do with it all?

I had been going to visit a friend of my mother’s over the weekend but she says perhaps better not. To nobody’s surprise, Dublin moves to level 3 – cafes and pubs closed with only outside eating, no travelling outside the county. We probably need a bigger radiator.

This was culture night and we normally go out but not this year, alas. We watched “Being John Malkovich” for film night and it remains one of the oddest films I’ve ever seen in my life.

Mr. Waffle and I were due to go on a weekend away for the weekend in April (in Northern Ireland) and we had to cancel and replaced it with a trip in October. I very much fear we won’t be able to go in October either. Oh well. Worse things happen at sea.

Saturday, September 19, 2020

I had to take herself into town to a course so had a wander around. It wasn’t as quiet as I expected now that we are in Level 3 but it wasn’t buzzing either.

We all worked on tidying up the garden (except herself who was swotting for a physics exam on Monday) – it was effective but a bit dull. As was a trip to the tile shop to talk about the bathroom renovation. Welcome to middle age, I suppose.

Sunday, September 20, 2020

In a potential game changer development, my sister tells me that apple jelly is the base for mint jelly – just add mint.

Mr. Waffle, the boys and I played a bit of tennis.

I feel in general much was achieved this weekend, but I have had more fun weekends.

You may or may not have noticed that I have been diarying every day since the start of Covid. I just want to have some idea what on earth I am doing in this weird period when everything seems slightly the same. Feel free to look away at any stage.

17

26 September, 2020
Posted in: Princess

Herself was 17 on April 12 so this is, even by my standards, a particularly belated birthday post. Look, there’s a pandemic on. I understand from a friend of my father’s now, unhappily, deceased that during the second world war when Ireland was neutral but in a state of emergency, known as “the emergency”, it was used an excuse for all sorts of unrelated delays and problems: “Don’t you know there’s an emergency?” I cannot imagine why that might have sprung to mind.

So she still has her braces. The pandemic may put back their removal. She is, understandably, very bitter. She still has a gap between her front teeth but otherwise they look perfectly straight and even underneath their metal shield. Of course, she didn’t have a gap between her front teeth when she started the treatment so we will all be pretty annoyed if the orthodontist cannot make it go away.

She had a good fourth year in school with a starring role in the transition year musical and then her school summer trip to Zambia. Fifth year in school was going fine too until the pandemic cut her academic year short. She has a full social life and lots of friends. While she is still on a lot of committees, some of the committee attendance has been replaced by going to concerts. I feel a little ambivalent about that. The committees seemed much safer.

She is still a vegetarian and recently confided to me that she is a vegan outside the home but is not vegan at home as she knows it would tip me over the edge. This is an entirely correct assessment. I am not the world’s best cook and nor am I much good at remembering to make a vegetarian option. I often end up heating up something frozen at the last minute. Hence her regularly repeated mournful refrain: “The vegetarian always eats last”. As she is now (finally) taller than me, my oft repeated concern that being a vegetarian might stunt her growth is ever less convincing.

This last year, she dipped a toe in enterprise setting up a little online shop to sell her clothes second hand. She found it all a lot of work and the returns poor. That’s a valuable lesson right there, I suppose. Babysitting for her little cousin was, I think, more lucrative until, sadly, her cousin, uncle and aunt all moved back to London.

We haven’t seen her natural hair colour in some years. Much of 16 she spent as a white blonde but she’s grown much of it out in the pandemic. Exciting.

In the past year, I notice she’s more inclined to take her bike when she’s going in to town to meet people. While at one level, I rejoice, I always worry that she will be run over.

She is still not sporty and, I suppose that this is unlikely to change very much at this stage. She does love swimming in the sea though.

She is only two and a half years older than her brothers but sometimes she feels a lot older. She’s a bit old for her age, they’re a bit young. They view all her utterances as gospel and if she is a bit snarky to them, they are very cast down. She doesn’t realise her own power and sometimes they drive her crazy but mostly she regards them with mild fondness.

It sometimes feels that they don’t have a lot in common other than school. While she has always been very resistant to revealing any information, the boys tell us things about school and she regards them as fifth columnists.

Academically, she continues to do well. She’s hardworking, bright and genuinely naturally interested in the kind of things that might lead to you doing well in exams. For example at this moment she is reading a biography of the poet Louis MacNeice which she picked up for herself in a second hand bookshop. Is he on her course? Nope, just interested.

While she was in Zambia, my mother died. I think it was probably worse for me than for her that she was away, but it was no picnic for either of us.

She was in a short film for the Dublin film festival and her face was on the (virtual) poster. I was extremely excited; much more so than my ultra cool child. We saw the film just before lockdown – it was fine, possibly a bit arty for me but, you know, featuring my first born.

She is quite cool. She is always wearing exciting and unusual outfits which are generally successful. She’s really interested in fashion. I have no idea where this came from. The greatest compliment which you can pay her is to ask whether she is a student at the National College of Art and Design.

She took some of my mother’s old clothes after she died and re-purposed them. I love seeing her wearing them. Firstly, because they remind me of my mother and secondly because my mother was a big believer in hand-me-downs and would be delighted to see clothes she paid good money for getting another lease of life.

She is very interested in politics and social movements. On her Friday half day she used to go off and march for climate change; in fact she is an inveterate marcher for all kinds of causes. She follows all our local politicians on twitter and knows their views. She had a long old chat with one of the general election candidates on the door step earlier this year about his views on penal reform.

Last summer (2019) she went, for the last time, to this three week residential summer course she has been doing for years. She always loved it and made loads of good friends and I was keen that she should do it again this year but she said that no, she was ready to conclude that chapter of her life. That proved a pretty prescient choice.

Increasingly, living with her feels like living with an adult. I find her endlessly charming and entertaining. While I wouldn’t say we never argue, these occasions are becoming rarer and rarer. Her independence and self-sufficiency which were a worry when she was younger and constantly pushing boundaries are now great as she is very smart and street savvy and has a good sense of what is safe and what might not be. As she stands on the threshold of adulthood, I am very proud of her. Honestly, she’s a delight.