With the 5 km limit on travel and everything closed, weekends have been a bit similar. Last Saturday (i.e. November 21 not November 28, Mr. Waffle keeps saying that the way I say last Saturday is very confusing but I fail to see where the difficulty lies, if I meant Saturday November 28, I would have said yesterday), I went off to explore Chapelizod on my own without children saying it was very dull to be hanging around while I looked at buildings. I found a new way there through the park staying off the main road. That’s as exciting as it got. Some local history: Sheridan Le Fanu wrote a short story about the house on the right in the picture below and Lord Northcliffe was born up the road. His mother was Irish, who knew?
I came home via the Lutyens designed war memorial gardens which, in fairness, were looking pretty good.
An email arrived from the school threatening dire consequences if students didn’t have face masks. A follow up email some time afterwards apologised for giving out all the parents’ email addresses in violation of GDPR rules.
On the Sunday morning, herself and myself went to the Botanic Gardens.
Her Christmas jumper got an outing.
For added excitement we saw the actual last rose of summer left blooming alone.
Then, in the afternoon, back out on the bike to Chapelizod with Mr. Waffle and the boys. There are only so many options.
Then on to the weekend just past. I have absolutely no recollection of what happened yesterday, we went out for a mild walk, I think. We did not watch the “Late Late Toy Show“. My family are the only people in Ireland not into this. Mr. Waffle and I never watched it as children and our own children never had the faintest interest. My little niece in London watched it and loved it too. Look, I took in five minutes of the highlights: I liked the bit with the singer; the child from Cork and the hospital porter and the follow up; also the bit where the presenter was surprised by a hard to open bottle of Fanta. My cold heart was warmed but it appears we are never going to be a family in Christmas pjs watching this with a hamper of Christmas goodies. Too boring say my loving family. There you have it.
And then today, another trip to the Botanic Gardens also taking in the excitement of Glasnevin cemetery where, it transpires Gerard Manley Hopkins is buried. Fancy that. November is, of course, the month of the dead but I didn’t get to visit my mother’s grave. I might take all the children on a visit if we ever get to Cork en masse again.
Very much looking forward to moving out of lockdown level 5 and back to level 3 from next week. Maybe my weekends won’t change a great deal but the possibility of change is very exciting.