Goodbye to All That

Michael drove myself and Mr. Waffle to the Botanic Gardens this afternoon. An unnerving trip but really only because I am lily livered, Michael’s driving was fine.

The Botanic Gardens currently have a light installation (available only after dark) and the overall effect is…peculiar even by daylight

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It was the first really cold day this winter and the pond in the Gardens was frozen to the unholy delight of a number of small children. Having had a restorative cup of tea, Michael drove us home again without incident.

Nobody was delighted but everybody helped to take down the the Christmas decorations when we got home. Always a slightly melancholy duty but then the house looks so much bigger without all the extra stuff. I considered throwing out the Holly Bough (Cork’s finest Christmas publication) but will preserve it in the hope of getting into its photograph pages next year. I had thought they put in every photograph they got (Cork people in different places, the more exotic the better, holding a copy of the Holly Bough). This appears not to be the case as a – beautifully composed etc. – photo of myself, my brother and sister in front of Lake Annecy did not qualify for publication. You can only imagine my disappointment when , hands trembling, I made my way to the photos page and we were not there. I wish I’d remembered to take it to Argentina. Oh well, we’ll try again next year, I suppose. Stay tuned for better news next December.

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Epiphany

Today is called Women’s Christmas or Little Christmas in this part of the world and the idea is that the women who spent so much work on all of the main Christmas celebrations would get a day off.

I have enjoyed a day off other than wrestling with hanging a picture for Michael. These Christmas presents can present their own challenges, can’t they? A moment of diversion was caused by Michael knowing the names for all the tools in Irish – one year of woodwork in school – but not in English – no DIY experience at home then.

Meanwhile poor Mr. Waffle has just returned from a Saturday of toil at the office. Understandably he is unfilled with seasonal joy but he has just had a cup of tea and a mince pie so surely things are improving?

Tonight we’re out to dinner for my sister-in-law’s 50th birthday, let us hope that this will cheer us all up, including the children who will get pizza. Well, in fact, who knows what herself will have as she is, once more, back in England to spend the weekend with friends (a carbon footprint as big as the Ritz). She’s back on Sunday night for a meeting in Dublin on Tuesday and then she is definitively back to England until April where she will be studying like a demon for her finals. Would she welcome a visit during that time? Possibly not. Might I visit anyway? Well, I’m not totally ruling it out.

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