belgianwaffle

Ireland

Biblical Catastrophes


Posted in: Cork, Family, Ireland

As I write there is a code red storm sweeping the country. It’s been a little unimpressive here in Dublin but talking to my sister in Cork, she said that she had never seen anything like it. Her office, north of the city had no electricity, no water (fun) and bits of the building blew away. On the 30 km drive back to the city, she passed 15 (15!) trees which had fallen on to the main road and were being chopped up to let traffic past by heroic council workers. She’s now safely at home.

And then Cork was battered by floods recently as well. To be fair Cork is always flooding. Corcaigh, the Irish for Cork, means “a marshy place”. Hey, building on the flood plain didn’t start today or yesterday. But still, I was on the phone to a colleague in Cork and he said, “I’ve got to leave now because the flood waters are rising” which was quite dramatic, I think you will agree.

Also, we have lice – only one of us so far but where will it all end?

Do you mind if I say something to you?


Posted in: Family, Ireland

These words rarely bring good news. I am tired of acquaintances and, indeed, strangers, telling me to wear a helmet on my bike. It is hard to rehearse the pros and cons of this argument with a passer-by. If people would stop telling me that my handbag will be stolen because I have it in my basket, that would also be welcome. During a lifetime of cycling, including in rough parts of the city, no one has ever tried to pinch my bag and nor have I heard of anyone ever having a bag stolen in these circumstances. Do me the credit of thinking that I have considered the risks and it’s a chance I am prepared to take. Or as I say to my nearest and dearest, “Have you idiot-proofed that suggestion?”

The other day, as I was shepherding the children out of our local cafe, a woman approached me, “Do you mind, if I say something to you?” I tensed up. “You have a lovely way with your children.” This is quite the nicest thing a stranger has ever said to me. Swings and roundabouts, I suppose.

Do share the most annoying thing that people say to you.

Stuff


Posted in: Cork, Family, Ireland, Reading etc.

My siblings pressed upon me a random collection of children’s books which they gathered up at our parents’ house in Cork. They included the very popular Krazy annual.

This is a source of fascination to our childminder as it dates from the year before she was born.

There was also an illustrated “Bible for Children” which my mother used to read every night. My brother repeatedly begged to hear about the plagues, so there was quite a focus on locusts and rivers of blood in our bedtime stories which is, I feel, unusual. It was funny to look through the old and very familiar 70s pictures. Herself picked up the book and read it through. At the end, she announced that the Bible should be over 18s. She doesn’t approve of the story of Bathsheba. Indeed, who would?

Catastrophe


Posted in: Cork, Family, Ireland, Siblings

I have two parents and between them, they have broken 3 hips since last March. My poor mother broke her second early on Friday morning. Now that I am a veteran of the procedure, I am no longer appalled that she and my brother spent 12 hours in A&E before she got onto a ward [Is it worth pointing out that she and my father have what our Minister for Finance calls “gold plated” health insurance?]. Since both of the last hips were broken on bank holiday weekends, that meant it was days before the operation. This time, my mother had her operation on Saturday after being admitted just after midnight on Friday night which was pretty good going. My brother and sister who are both in Cork have been visiting and minding but I was down at the weekend and although it was good for me to see her, the benefit to the patient was pretty negligible as she was still sleeping after the operation for all of my time there.

I am becoming very familiar with the hospitals in Cork. I particularly enjoy the disembodied English voice at the main entrance to the University Hospita which tells visitors to sanitise their hands. It also says, vainly, to the smokers in their dressing gowns who are sucking on their cigarettes in the wind tunnel nearby that “This is a smoke free campus.” Then acknowledging reality it goes on to add sternly, “Your smoke is disturbing patients in the cardiac and cancer wings overhead.” Frankly, I would be surprised, if this were the case, given the chill wind whistling though the underpass where the smokers huddle.

I fear my mother’s recovery from this will be long and slow. Alas. Cheerful broken hip stories in the comments please.

After Sales Service


Posted in: Ireland

I was chatting to a woman whose father used to work as an engineer at Ardnacrusha recently. This is Ireland’s most famous engineering project – so famous there is even a great, almost Soviet style picture of its construction. She tells me that Siemens still sent a man over from Germany to check on it every year when her father was working there in the 70s and 80s and, for all we know, they still do today.

She also told me that at 10 he showed her how to float concrete. Whatever floats your boat and all that.

Windy


Posted in: Dublin, Family, Ireland

Yesterday we went up to the Dublin mountains for a walk amid howls of dismay from the boys. They always object vociferously but they always seem to enjoy it when they get there. It was very windy at the top.

But sunny:

If a bit boggy:

We ran into one of the boys’ classmates who was out walking with his parents and brothers. The boys were all rather muted. “Was it strange to meet Eoghan here?” I asked. “Yes,” said Michael and he didn’t shout and say rude poems like he does in school.”

We went to Johnny Fox’s for lunch, possibly the most touristy place in Ireland outside Killarney. The walls are bedecked with photos of bemused visiting dignitaries as the protocol division of the Department of Foreign Affairs has clearly decided that no head of state can visit Ireland without taking in a trip to Johnny Fox’s. There were, however, two notable exceptions: there was no Barack Obama (although there was a picture of the owner’s niece having a pint with him in some other public house) and no Queen Elizabeth. On the plus side the Queen’s private secretary had written a letter saying how much she regretted not being able to take part in a “hooley night” in Johnny Fox’s. Quite.