A couple of months ago, I started to notice this woman in house and flat windows.
Now, I see her everywhere.
Does somebody sell these statuettes to very willing buyers?
Does the city council – the main landlord locally – buy them in bulk and put them in the houses it rents out? Your thoughts on this mildly vexing question would be welcome.
The clocks went back on Sunday. We forgot. We arrived for 11.30 mass at what we thought was 11.45 (punctual as ever). It was in fact 10.45 and the priest was finishing 10.00 mass. As we walked through the door, he said, “The mass is ended, go in peace to love and serve the Lord.” Daniel, who had been the cause of our lateness, was very taken aback. He had been told that, if he hurried, he would not miss the Sunday school thing in the sacristy. Now, mass had ended. He started to howl at the top of his voice (a very loud place), “Mass is ended, oh no, mass is ended.” You might have thought that fellow worshippers would have rejoiced at this evidence of youthful enthusiasm, but no.
My bike, my beautiful expensive bike with a child seat on the back, was stolen.
I’d taken the lights off though.
Dublin won the All-Ireland football final a couple of weeks ago.
This is what the north side of the city looked like:
The south side of the city looked just the same, except there was no bunting. All of Dublin’s inner suburbs were built by people who liked things to match.
The north of the city is GAA heartland. The south, not so much. A friend of mine went, along with thousands of others, to see the Dubliners show off the Sam Maguire cup. The master of ceremonies asked the crowd, “Is there anybody here from Raheny (north city)? The crowd went wild. “Is there anyone here from Dalkey (distant southern suburb)?” Complete silence, this despite the fact that one of the squad is actually from Dalkey.
While not wishing to single out Dalkey for punishment – it is a perfect pleasant place – I must tell you about the ad for “exclusive luxury homes in Dalkey” in the paper the other day. Among the benefits which the developers claim is that “it would be difficult to find a more appealing address”. They also point out that “There is no social and affordable housing within the development”. Do you think that I’m making this up?
The Princess and I went to visit St. Patrick’s cathedral at the weekend. Dublin’s best cathedral, since you’re asking.
Famously, Jonathan Swift was Dean of the cathedral. I said to herself, “I’ll give you 50 cents to spend (in the appallingly tacky shop which sits beside the Boyle monument -features statue of the grandfather of chemistry), if you find me a bust of Dean Swift.” Moments later, she came flying back to me, “I haven’t found Dean Swift, but can I have 25 cents for finding Jonathan Swift?”
I interrupt my detailed day by day description of our holiday in Kerry to offer the following two problems for your sympathy:
1. Herself had an appointment with the dental hygienist a couple of months ago which, unprecedentedly, we forgot. They phoned us, we grovelled. We re-set a suitable date. It was yesterday. Did I remember to take her? Alas, no. Even though Mr. Waffle’s last words before leaving the country (for work, not anything more sinister) were, “Don’t forget the dentist.” My mortification knows no bounds.
2. Our new childminder who hasn’t started yet but who was perfect because
a) the children liked her;
b) she has lived in Ireland for a long time and is unlikely to leave in the middle of the year;
c) she was doing a course (childcare) in the mornings which allowed her to keep her benefits, if she worked fewer than 20 hours a week so had every incentive to stay
has texted to say that her course hours have changed and she can no longer work for us. I could weep. This, of course, is Nemesis in action as only yesterday I said breezily to the new father up the road, that finding a childminder would be no problem. And, also, I had told everyone how terrific this was going to be. I think that this is the first person who has left before she started. Back to the drawing board.
Oh yes, and Irish bonds have been downgraded to junk. It’s always worrying when your personal credit status is better than your country’s.
Updated to add: Also, we have woodworm.
