First holy communion season is upon us and at the Botanic Gardens at the weekend families were out photographing their first holy communicants amid the flowers. And why wouldn’t they? The flowers were looking lovely as were the children all dressed up.
I am, however, less sure about this new development which I saw in a shopping centre in town. An odd souvenir surely?
I was 56 last month which is a surprise to me. I took the day off work. Mr. Waffle, sadly, was stuck at work on the day of my birthday but the previous day we had gone out for an adventure to Carlingford which is always nice. There is a new greenway around the edge of the bay. It’s a shared pedestrian/cycling space and on this beautiful day, it was lovely to see so many families out and about but it did not make for an exactly speedy cycling experience.
I was surprised just how close Warrenpoint across the water was. I always thought it was a bit further away. I also didn’t realise how industrial it is. To the left of the photo below is a lot less appealing.
The route goes as far as Narrow Water Keep. For years, I’ve been hearing about the progress of the Narrow Water bridge which will link Carlingford (Republic of Ireland) with Warrenpoint (Northern Ireland) across the water. In my mind’s eye, I saw it as an enormous bridge requiring huge engineering works but honestly having seen the distance, I half think I could throw it up myself. Whatever is delaying it, I can’t imagine that it’s engineering problems. If you look closely at the (not great) picture below you will see the keep which was tantalisingly close across the water.
Mr. Waffle found the greenway a bit cabined, cribbed, confined but I quite liked it. In fact it was all very pleasant except for the signs that said, “Cooley peninsula says no to the Greenway” which made me feel that we were not entirely welcome.
There was also a house with a Trump flag flying. I have to say I have not seen one of those in Ireland before.
Undeterred by my cycling adventure the previous day, on my birthday I took myself off to the southern seaside suburbs for another cycle. Here is your correspondent on Killiney beach. They say Killiney Bay is like the Bay of Naples. Honestly, it’s all very nice but it’s no Bay of Naples.
Herself called me and we had a long and quite delightful chat on the phone as I cycled along. She was on video call and I had her in my handbag in my basket and she said that she felt like a small dog as she peered out the top.
I got presents, I got cake, I had a day off, the sun shone. All in all a pretty satisfactory birthday.
I had gone down to Cork a bit before the big day to have a birthday dinner with my brother and sister (more presents, thank you, I don’t mind if I do). That was nice but I found Cork a bit depressed; a lot of closed shops and Patrick Street down at heel. I hope that this is not a portent of things to come in the new world trade dispensation. My sister found a picture of my father on his graduation in 1949. Taking it all very seriously, clearly.
My brother and sister got me Blue Book vouchers. If you ever want to stay somewhere in Ireland, North or South, I strongly recommend a Blue Book venue (not always super pricey, particularly north of the border, but always, always lovely). My sister also got me a bird feeder and I have reached an age where I was genuinely thrilled. So far the birds haven’t been as interested as I would like and the tableau below may tell you all you need to know.
At my great age, I decided no harm to go for a pre-birthday check up with the GP. I was fine. On the advice of a friend, I asked her to send me for a Dexa scan. It checks bone density. Since both my mother and maternal grandmother had osteoporosis, I feared the worst. But I am perfect. I have often lamented that in dimensions I take after my paternal grandmother’s family (round and low to the ground) but I tell you what they were all healthy and lived forever and I have reached an age where I am no longer quite as keen to be tall and willowy (still somewhat keen though, I cannot lie) and very keen to remain healthy; so I am pleased that I appear to be like them on the inside as well as the outside.
Playing tennis recently I injured myself and have taken a couple of weeks off tennis going around like hop a long Cassidy. I diagnosed my injury with the help of google (as recommended by all professionals, ahem) as Achilles tendonitis. The Mayo Clinic was almost insultingly accurate in describing my problem “It’s also common in middle-aged people who play sports, such as tennis …only on the weekends”. Fine. I’ve been asking around and so many people I know have had it that I am sure I am right. However, you will be pleased to hear that if I am not fully recovered next week, I will, sigh, make an appointment with the physio. It’s a weird injury in that it only hurts when walking. I completely forget about it when I sit down and get a mild shock every time I start walking which, I have discovered, is hardly ever. I thought I was always hopping up from my desk for various reasons. Not so, in fact. This is not an entirely welcome discovery.
Celebrating any birthdays yourself?
The 46A bus in Dublin is being discontinued. The petitions to retain it, the news coverage, the discussion by local elected representatives and the half page article in today’s Irish Times all strike me as a bit excessive. Mr. Waffle commented to his sister in London that he is hoping for a coffee table book by Irish Times commentator Fintan O’Toole (lamenting the loss of the route) and explaining how things would be better if Fintan were in charge. Just in case you’re wondering, this bus route is being replaced by, apparently, faster more frequent buses on the same route (although you will have to change buses, a subject of much discussion).
The 46A also features in the chorus of hit Bagatelle number “Summer in Dublin“. The line is “My humming was smothered by a 46A and the scream of a low flying jet” so, if you ask me, not really a ringing endorsement for the 46A. However, the singer “hopped on a bus to Dun Laoghaire” (those of us in the know are aware that the 46A goes from town to Dun Laoghaire) stopping off to pick up his guitar (honestly, madness even now to get off a bus and hope to get on another any time soon but presumably a lyrical requirement). Bagatelle are not known outside Ireland (other than weirdly for one song in Uruguay) but “Summer in Dublin” is still popular in Ireland with a certain age demographic and their unfortunate children.
My insane husband felt impelled to take the 46A somewhere during the week. How was it? “Very like a bus journey, had to wait ages and then, you know, I was on the bus.”
Dublin bus has put out the old 46A buses for the last day of service and my neighbour posted a picture to which Mr. Waffle commented, perhaps mindful of his recent experience, “Two together – typical!”
Updated to add: More 46A content, was a bus route ever more loved?
Mr. Waffle and I like many, many Dublin residents went up to the Dublin mountains to have a look at the snow today. Was the traffic awful? Yes. Was it worth it? Also yes. We went up to the Military Road which was closed and walked along it. Some cars also came along and slid around. Added thrills. Still, worth it.
My neighbour from up the road just texted to see whether she could drop into me about something. Mysterious, what could it be? Anyway, she’s coming at 8 during time set aside for blogging so tonight’s entry is well, entry level. Am I phoning it in? It is possible. Stay tuned for an update tomorrow on what she could have wanted.
For the first time this year, the weather is cold and there is, in fact, a light dusting of snow in the mountains which are visible from most places in Dublin.
Everywhere looks lovely in the bright frosty weather we are having at the moment. However, I worked from home today and will be working from home tomorrow (normally I tend not to for a range of dull reasons). I can tell you that the dining room where I live and have my being when working from home is baltic, central heating at full blast notwithstanding. I spent the day with a hot water bottle at my feet. My poor aloe vera plant (my companion when working from the dining room) looks like it’s having a nervous breakdown.
I am just about to leave the house for dinner with friends and I believe it may be somewhat warmer outside than in.
More exciting content tomorrow.