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Ireland

A Day Out

23 February, 2012
Posted in: Cork, Ireland, Middle Child, Princess, Twins

As I mentioned we were in Cork at the weekend. I decided to take the children to Charles Fort.

Me: Tomorrow, we’re going to see a fort!
Daniel: I don’t want to go.
Me: It’ll be great, it’s a really big, impressive fort.
Daniel (dubiously): But forts are invisible.
Me: Not this one, it’s huge.
Princess: A fort Daniel, not a fart.

The next day we set off to walk two long kilometres to the fort. We did not get off to a good start. Daniel had a sore knee which I thought would go away, but didn’t. He just limped there and back uncomplainingly. My saintly middle child. Michael meanwhile dragged himself along saying “My legs are so tired”. He was the first to realise that once we got to the fort we would have to walk back again. He wasn’t pleased. I wasn’t so pleased myself, I had three unhappy children and I was carrying two guns – a pistol and a nerf gun – and a light sabre (to attack the fort).

However, once we reached Summercove, things began to look up. We were fortified by lunch at the Bulman (which I cannot recommend highly enough – herself had an enormous bowl of mussels, I had crab claws and the boys a portion of chips each – in our own way, we were all happy). Then the fort was great. And it didn’t rain on us. Always a plus in any Irish outing. And, as always, the road back didn’t seem quite so long.

Herself:
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Saintly middle child:
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Patrolling with Nerf Gun:
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Scenery (obligatory):
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Hot

22 February, 2012
Posted in: Cork, Family, Ireland

I took the children to my parents’ house at the weekend. Mr. Waffle’s parents’ house is always a bit on the cold side for me and my parents’ house is always much too warm for him. This means that at home, I wear my fleece of an evening – mmm synthetics – and Mr. Waffle wanders round in t-shirts and shorts.

The children take after him. Herself couldn’t sleep with the heat in Cork and even I was quite warm. I took off my fleece. Ah, my Cork family observed, you have become a Waffle. Still, my mother, who feels the cold terribly couldn’t really believe that any human being could really be so warm. As herself lay sweating under a single sheet, my mother asked me anxiously, “Do you think that she’d like a hot water bottle?”

This Week’s Theme is… Leprosy

12 February, 2012
Posted in: Dublin, Ireland, Princess

I got a book about madness out of the library last weekend. The first chapter deals with leper houses and I was talking to herself about this. Don’t tell me you don’t torture your children in similar ways. A lengthy discussion followed about the symptoms of leprosy. Then about leper colonies and how there is a Dublin suburb called “Leopardstown” because the land was used to fund a lepers’ hospital. The following day we visited Dublinia [we had tickets saved from a promotion on milk bottles – are you getting a picture of our home life?] In the, always popular, death and diseases bit there was a wax figure of a leper.

Then today at mass, the readings and the gospel featured -oh yes- leprosy. Herself was listening closely because she was up on the altar doing a try out for altar girl (successful). And the priest was fresh back from his visit to a leper colony in Africa so we covered that in the sermon.

There may be a lesson here somewhere but you’ll have to work it out for yourself.

Extra Time

1 February, 2012
Posted in: Ireland, Mr. Waffle

We’ve given up watching the news in the evenings; so, in fact, we’ve given up watching television altogether because all our TV watching consisted of the news and an hour of vain channel hopping thereafter. Now we sit and read and listen to music. We chat. It’s amazing how much of a difference it’s made to my evening. Apart from anything else, it’s delightful to be missing the economic doom news which RTE likes to lead with nightly. I’ll let you know when our resolve cracks.

You Don’t Get That Much

26 January, 2012
Posted in: Ireland, Princess

A couple of weeks ago at mass, we had a priest who was home from the missions. He was very struck by the change in Irish society. My thoughts flew to the economy and immigration, infrastructure…but no, he was referring to sexual mores. In fairness, he had a lead in to address this as the second reading was about fornication. But considering it was a children’s mass, if it had been up to me, I would have gone for the first reading which came from the book of Samuel – you know the one, where the child is asleep and the Lord calls to him.

Nevertheless, despite my qualms about the audience, I did think he made some fair points. Children of 12 who finish primary school put on make-up and head out in high heels. There’s definitely something wrong there. My daughter who is a habitué of the €2 shop where she spends all her pocket money on cheap plastic tat has been surveying with alarming thoroughness the range of adult goods on offer and bringing her queries home to me. I am not sure I am entirely comfortable with a shop that sells plastic toys for children also selling plastic toys for adults. I see shoals ahead.

We’re Alive!

25 January, 2012
Posted in: Dublin, Ireland, Mr. Waffle, Twins, Youngest Child

During dinner this evening, the carbon monoxide alarm went off for the first time ever. It’s very loud. My ears are still ringing. As Mr. Waffle wrestled with it, Michael kept posing questions through the ringing and things became a little tetchy. The alarm instructions (which, yes, we had to hand, OCD and its many uses) advised that we go outside and leave all the windows and doors open while we called the emergency services. We might well have done that had it been summer and not quite so rainy. Instead we stayed indoors, put the children to bed and later consulted the internet.

You will be relieved to hear that we’ve turned off all gas appliances (last serviced in October for heaven’s sake) and are sitting in the cold. Having re-checked with our original alarm and the spare (your point? it was sitting waiting in its packaging for this moment), all seems to be well now. However, a man will have to be summoned before we can put on the gas fired central heating, the cooker or the gas fire. Alas. I will be retiring to bed early with a hot water bottle.

Mr. Waffle (installer of the carbon monoxide alarms) is mildly triumphant. But he doesn’t feel the cold. Still, if you have gas appliances, I should, I suppose, take this opportunity to suggest that you invest in a carbon monoxide alarm.

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