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Dublin

Patroness of the Arts

14 June, 2022
Posted in: Boys, Daniel, Dublin, Ireland, Michael, Mr. Waffle, Reading etc.

Last Friday night Michael, Mr. Waffle and I went to see “The Tin Soldier” in the Gate (Daniel was in Rome). It’s by the theatre company that did “A Feast of Bones” which remains one of the most successful plays, I ever forced my children to see. Friday night’s play was good but it wasn’t brilliant. There was some really amazing dancing in it and some very clever things but the script was a bit over complicated and didn’t quite hang together or I wasn’t smart enough to follow it fully – take your pick. The audience seemed to like it and so did Michael so a win overall. I don’t mean to boast but the main actor and I share a hair dresser and I thought his hair looked pretty good: I take my thrills where I can.

I have been to the TUD and NCAD graduate art shows. I haven’t bought anything but it’s just a question of time and wall space, I assume. There were some interesting things in both shows about young people’s experiences of the pandemic and the housing crisis and some pretty odd things that did not float my boat but I suppose that is the way of these things. The new building with beautiful views over the Dublin mountains was a bit of a star of the TUD show.

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Our next door neighbour’s first born is about to become or is already an NCAD graduate [how can I keep up, only five minutes ago she was in primary school] and she painted this picture on the concrete wall in the lane opposite the back of our shed. Every time I take my bike out and see it, it fills me with joy. It’s based on a sketch she did from a boat off the Cork coast. She has yet to charge us for it despite constant urging her to do so. I think she feels it’s unfinished but I think it’s perfect.

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I went to Bloom in the Phoenix Park for the first time. I have heard rave reviews. I am unconvinced. It’s €25 to get in and then you are invited to spend more money on food, plants, garden furniture, crafts, garden rooms, random gardening tat and random tat. The actual show gardens are relatively few and surrounded by people pressing against the ropes peering in. I do not think I will be back. I did buy a very lovely hand mirror from this crowd though. It seems to be a one man operation and I think Warren himself lovingly wrapped my mirror.

Here are the photos I got hanging over the ropes of some of the show gardens:

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And here is the grim reality:

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And here is a shot from inside the walled garden of the Phoenix park where you can get in for free all year round (except during Bloom, it transpires):

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Mr. Waffle and the boys and I went to see “An Cailín Ciúin“. Loads of people had recommended it to me. One of my friends from bookclub went because the young star was in sixth class in her children’s school and all of the parents were encouraged to go (I mean it’s an Irish language film, I don’t think they were expecting even the modest success that they enjoyed). I was a bit reluctant as my experience of Irish films is that they are gloomy. But it won a couple of awards in Berlin and I decided to give it a go. It was gloomy. Really beautiful cinematography (often, in my view, the kiss of death in a film). I found myself thinking, “Of course the Germans loved it, it’s a certain vision of traditional Irishness”. It’s set in 1981 and the young protagonist is the same age as myself and although some elements are very recognisable (ah the uncomfortable plastic hairband), it didn’t seem to be quite the Ireland I remembered but I am a city child and it is a country story and, of course, recollections vary. It is beautifully shot and acted but there’s no getting away from it, it’s sad. Still the boys loved it.

End of Term – Mixed Results

12 June, 2022
Posted in: Boys, Daniel, Dublin, Ireland, Michael, Mr. Waffle, Princess

The boys are finished school for the summer. They had a reasonably good school awards season though Daniel felt he would have done better had he not irritated the school authorities with operation bald. Here he is after 3 weeks of hair re-growth.

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Daniel after finishing school last week hopped on a plane to Rome this week. Having ensured that his phone had roaming, Mr. Waffle and Michael dropped him off to the airport. It was only after Daniel had checked in his hold bag that he revealed that he had put his phone in it. This did not give me great confidence that he was going to find his gate and get to Rome safely. However, despite my qualms, he got there no problem and seems to be having a great time. I love seeing them make up for lost time under Covid. One of the really great things about a parent is how much joy you get from seeing your children having a good time.

I am also enjoying an end of term of sorts as I prepare to finish up work next Friday. A certain amount of extra lunching has appeared in my life. Most unusual – and rather charming – so far has been lunch in the club of a friend looking out of the dining room onto Stephen’s Green. Mr. Waffle came too and another friend who was in college with him and is extremely glamorous. I was pretty pleased – and mildly surprised, I had not thought of her as a cycling person – to see her rolling up to lunch on her bicycle until she tied her bike to the pole I had my eye on. On the down side this put her in a position to see my utter humiliation when I was taken to task by a guard for breaking a red light. Completely my fault and I abased myself absolutely apologising furiously. He was quite unpleasant but in the end he let me go with a scowl and trembling knees. Glamorous friend said that I was so long with him that she thought he might be a friend but then she overheard the tenor of the conversation. She was pretty indignant on my behalf and said that though I was in the wrong, I had apologised and what else was I supposed to do; although illegal it was not as though it had been a dangerous manoeuvre; and she felt that he was on a power trip. He did seem to be enjoying himself. I was heartened but also felt a bit feeble. As my father used to say “character is destiny” and I am much more likely to keep apologising than to argue back. I can’t help feeling she would have been far more robust in her approach.

Herself has secured a smallish sum of scholarship money and plans to use it to spend a month in Paris over the summer. Little does she know that there is a good chance I may visit her with my new found freedom. She is currently preparing for exams which start tomorrow. She is a bit nervous but all was going well until a random stranger came up and punched her in the face in the middle of the afternoon last week. It was a young woman, perfectly normal in outward appearance but obviously very unwell. The police said that it was a completely random accident and she was very unlucky. The paramedics said that nothing was broken but she would have impressive swelling followed by an impressive black eye. Right on both counts so far. She was really shaken, as you would be, in fairness. An academic and his wife saw what happened and were very kind to her and he wrote her a nice letter subsequently saying that he had been in contact with her lecturers about what happened. It was quite a shock though and I felt very helpless being so far away. I wish there were something useful I could do. She has a big ball next weekend after the exams and she says she will be like Pádraig Pearse, always getting her photo taken in profile. I am really looking forward to seeing her and a bit worried for her too; though she is pretty resilient it was a nasty thing to happen and has taken a bit out of her at a time when she was anxious anyhow.

And Michael? Michael has been happy as a sandboy since the end of school. He is currently enjoying his status as only child at home. We took him out for a mild walk in the Dublin mountains this afternoon and he seemed to enjoy the full blast of parental attention.

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Updated to add: The Italians have just called to say that one of their children has Covid; she’s been sent off to stay at her grandmother’s but I fear the worst. The plot thickens.

Foiled

8 June, 2022
Posted in: Dublin, Ireland

I am very jam ready this year. I have all the kit. I will be off work. Nothing can stop me. Have the plums failed? Yes, yes, they have. Could be a bumper year for apple jelly yet.

Fame!

18 May, 2022
Posted in: Boys, Dublin, Ireland, Mr. Waffle

This is the first time this has ever happened to me. I went to a cycle week event at the weekend and one of the marshals came up to me and stuck out his hand and said, “Hi, I read your blog.” The thrill. The next thing he said was, “That guy at work who thinks you look sixty is completely crazy.” That was the right thing to say.

The cycle ride was lovely too. Glorious weather. Loads of small children out on the roads. A feeling of slight smugness. One man had chosen to run beside his four year old. He wasn’t really dressed for it and I don’t think he fully expected the four year old to stay the course but children are full of surprises. And free pancakes at the end.

I couldn’t persuade Mr. Waffle and the boys to come. Too busy at home.

Post-Covid Reminder

11 May, 2022
Posted in: Dublin, Ireland, Reading etc.

A friend invited me to a book reading and dinner after work a couple of weeks ago and very pleasant and entertaining it was too. It reminded me though of all the times we lost during Covid and how very grateful I am to have them back.

Michael (my resident news analyst and pessimist) tells me that energy rationing is next but at least we’ll be able to see each other. However, I would not describe myself as delighted by what this full page ad that appeared in the paper portends.

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Bring Flowers of the Fairest

8 May, 2022
Posted in: Boys, Daniel, Dublin, Ireland, Michael

I remember commenting to a Northern Protestant friend that although the devil has the best tunes (he definitely does, Protestant hymns are so much better that we have taken some, in a spirit of ecumenicism, I assume – indeed, when the Church of Ireland bishops came out and said that Covid was particularly difficult for their services because they hadn’t been able to sing and singing was such an intrinsic part of their worship, it was hard to argue), they are really missing out on the Marian hymns. She was puzzled but intrigued.

I explained to her that May is the month of our Lady. When I was in primary school we had May altars. I used to make little ones at home with flowers from the garden. I also remember picking cherry blossoms for my Nana who came to visit regularly so I may have slightly conflated the delight at her visit with the general pleasure of picking flowers for display.

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In primary school each year on a glorious May day we would parade around the school yard with a statue of Mary on a plinth, balanced precariously on the shoulders of sixth class girls, saying prayers and singing hymns led by the principal – who was a nun – with a loudhailer. I wouldn’t say I loved it – and sadly, I never got to carry around the statue which was a very coveted role – but I liked it better than lessons and the flowers and the hymns were always nice.

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I am reminded of this because the weather is beautiful this weekend (top tip for any tourists out there, the nicest weather in Ireland is always in May/early June) and the Botanic Gardens and the Phoenix Park, both of which I graced with my presence (making poor old Michael come with me both times, Daniel was at matches, fortunately for him) were delightful. And at mass this morning the final hymn was Bring Flowers of the Fairest which filled me with nostalgic joy.

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