Friday, August 15
My weekends now start on Fridays thanks to my four day week. Am I pleased? You betcha.
Herself was home for a couple of weeks (rejoice!). On Friday (before she headed off to Paris on Saturday), she and I went for a day out in Howth. We parked at the Summit car park and walked down towards the lighthouse. It had been a bit overcast earlier but the sun came out and it was beautiful.
In a way that is not at all obvious, you can access a beach from a set of steep slightly makeshift steps set into the cliff. And down we went.
By Irish standards the water was delightfully warm. We had a lovely swim. You often see seals swimming a bit out to sea from this beach. However, very excitingly there was a baby seal sunning itself on the beach. Lads, the thrill.
After our excitement on the beach, we went back up to the car (slightly more tiring than going down).
As regular readers will be aware, I am a big fan of the bike and public transport and it is not so often that herself gets to have an outing in the car. As we drove back into the village, she announced defiantly, “I love the car, I love it.” However, parking was a bit of a nightmare and after 15 minutes of circling the town looking for parking, she was less sure. We eventually parked in a loading bay (judge away, I was operating in the belief that it is only a loading bay in hours of loading, no hours of loading were specified so really who was I fooling?) and went for a lovely lunch on the pier, slightly marred by my fear that I would get clamped.
After lunch we got two 99s and walked back to the car. I finished mine before we got there. “What’s your plan for my ice cream?” she asked. I was genuinely baffled. “I mean, I haven’t finished it,” she clarified. “Well, you can finish it in the car,” I said. “In the car?!” she exclaimed. It is true that the children were never allowed to eat ice cream in the car for reasons which should be obvious. “Yes, you’re 22, you can eat ice cream in the car,” I said. She was awe-struck and delighted. It was kind of hilarious but maybe you had to be there. But guess what, we were not clamped so a very successful day all round.
Saturday, August 16
Mr. Waffle’s sister and her family are in Dublin for a couple of weeks and last weekend we had them and Mr. Waffle’s brother and his wife around for tea. A good time was had by all etc – relatively low labour from our point of view. This weekend Mr. Waffle’s brother and his wife had us all around for lunch and also his elderly aunt and uncle, their son and their grandson. I must say it was a big crowd and I am lost in admiration at my sister-in-law’s ability to cater for large numbers. It was quite exciting to meet Mr. Waffle’s first cousin and his son who live in Spain (first cousin’s wife is Spanish). We last saw the son when he was about 4 and he is now 12 and very tall and very pale for a Spaniard (still tall for an Irish person and quite tanned). My niece and brother-in-law played and sang (very reluctantly) and I have to say they were absolutely amazing; he is a very good pianist and she is a professionally trained singer. Mind you, what would I know, he finished up laughing saying “went into F there” – what does that mean? A mystery. Sounded fine to me and I thought my niece sang absolutely beautifully. A little thrill.
Sunday, August 17
It’s heritage week. Mr. Waffle and I thought we might try Leixlip castle which is quite near Dublin. It’s not open to the public very often which is possibly why when I rang the phone number they gave out on the website, a rather harassed though very pleasant woman told me they were chock a block. She felt perhaps she could fit one but, alas, we were two. I’m willing to bet my bottom dollar that the person I spoke to was the chatelaine which makes me more curious than ever to visit. Maybe next year.
Today we went to Tullynally Castle instead, ancestral home of the Packenhams. The house tour was mildly interesting although the castle itself, Gothicked by Francis Johnston in the early 1800s is not to my mind particularly beautiful. But my goodness, it’s big and the family still live there – it’s clearly very lived in and I would say it is baltic in winter. The gardens are the big draw and they are delightful.
Herself pointed out to me that it is only in Ireland that crisps are served unironically as a salad accompaniment to sandwiches. Sandwiches tend to be described as ” served with salad and crisps” and have a token bit of green to help them live up to that billing. Today’s example is a good one. My smoked salmon came with a side salad.
