I noticed on Sunday that the neighbour’s child took off her runner and had a good sniff inside while sitting on the altar. I think that this puts us ahead. On the other hand, maybe nobody noticed. We had the American priest again and he exhorted us to “Come Alive”. We had to shout it out regularly during mass so we all stared at the ground covered in mortification and trying not to catch anyone’s eye. Someone will have to talk to him about cultural differences.
Ireland
Bitter, Bitter, Bitter is the Lemon to the Fritter
It was my birthday on March 10 and on March 9, Mr. Waffle took me to a nice restaurant for dinner. It was filled with tables of older women and we and 4 or 5 other couples were in an alcove away from the main restaurant. I asked our waiter who the women were (IFUW was my initial thought). “They are,” he announced proudly, “the mothers of the rugby players.” Scotland were to play Ireland the following day. We looked dubious, this seemed unlikely. Seeing our expressions he added, “Possibly also the grandmothers.” It was later explained that these were the wives or rugby officials. Clearly an older cohort. And that was all fine and dandy until they got our their guitars (I kid you not) and started belting out 70s numbers (“Torn Between Two Lovers, “Leaving on a Jet Plane”) as well as, of course, “Flower of Scotland” and the ever unappealing “Ireland’s Call”.
Alas, fair maiden.
Activities
We went to visit the President’s House. The children threw pebbles in his fountain.
We went to the zoo. We saw some animals but we spent most of our time in the playground. The African grasslands closed at 4.30 so we missed the lions. Alas. At €45 to get in, that’s the most expensive playground I’ve been to in a while.
Oh dear.
Literally
Those of you following Ireland’s progress will know that the banks have behaved badly. I can be lyrical on this point. I have been, in fact, to the extent that the children are dimly aware of the banks’ role in our current crisis and can’t quite understand why I insist that they leave their money there rather than letting them spend it – by far their preferred option.
We were in the car in the morning on the way to school and I was talking to Mr. Waffle about this repossession. The sheriff was defeated, at least temporarily, by the “random legal word generator”. In this case the words “constitution”, “common law”, “separation of powers” and “inviolable” were brandished to good effect. While, the arguments adduced made no legal sense whatsoever, the emotional argument that the banks had got away without any sanction did strike a chord. “Of course,” said I bitterly “the banks got away with murder.”
Michael piped up from the back seat, “WHAT, the banks murdered someone?”
Brave New World
Spotted advertised recently – A Céilà Speed Dating Event. The mind boggles.
Heartwarming
At my tennis coaching, a new Polish coach turned up. As we chatted before training he mentioned that he had been playing in a match at the weekend but had lost. “Oh dear,” we said sympathetically. “Well, I had not played for 16 years,” he said in the frank manner of Poles of my acquaintance. Seeing that his new class looked less than entirely entranced with this piece of information, he explained his remark:
I was in Ireland working in construction but then my job disappeared [like so many others, alas] but I was stuck here [again, the Polish frankness], I have an Irish wife and baby, what was I to do? I went to FÃS [the employment and training agency] and they asked me what I could do. They had nothing for me. “Are you any good at sport?” I said no and they said, “Pity, because we need tennis coaches.” Then, I said, actually, I played in Silesia from 6 to 14 when I started playing adult leagues because I was too good for the kids leagues [Poles are not big believers in false modesty either in my experience] and I got sick of it. So, they said great, I re-trained as a tennis coach and here I am. And, I have to say, he was absolutely terrific. I really admire people who turn around and find a new career and I am so glad that he didn’t head back to Poland with his wife and baby because, God knows, we need the coaching.