belgianwaffle

Ireland

Gardening


Posted in: Dublin, Ireland

I have become obsessed with gardening. From someone who found gardens deathly dull I am turning into someone who knows the names of plants. We have giant hogweed, how lovely.

When we bought the house in 2003, the garden, lovingly tended by a little old lady, looked like this. While looking at these pictures, I want you to reflect on why anyone with a small garden would plant seven fir trees. Answers on a postcard please.

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Then we left the country and let the house to tenants. Conscious of the fact that the garden might need some maintenance and having more money than sense we offered to pay for a gardener to come every so often. The tenants said that they would rather do it themselves. Here are some pictures of the garden just after the tenants moved out in 2008.

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And look at those cute little fir trees, they grow up so fast, don’t they?

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This is the side passage of which I have no 2003 photo as it was then an unremarkable gravelled area. It pushed the boundaries while we were away. When clearing away the foliage below, I unearthed two bicycle skeletons.

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So, much of the past two years has been spent in uprooting. I’ve hung on to the pussy willow which self-seeded, is enormous and holding one end of the washing line. Mr. Waffle feels it needs to be pollarded. He says this on the basis of some work of literary fiction he is reading. Personally, I’d like some more reliable source, like the internet. You see it on the left below, does it need to be pollarded, if so how? Note also the tasteful paving stones on the “lawn” which I have not yet removed as I know I will not be able to grow lawn to replace them.

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Speaking of not growing grass, you see my problem below. On the plus side the fir tree you see is one of only two extant specimens. Cutting them down is hard work, especially when Michael cries and throws his arms around them. I am taking the children to Cork next week and I hope that the dastardly deed will be done in our absence.

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While there are improvements in the side passage, I would be the first to concede that it still needs work.

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Two years of hard labour and this is the result as of today.

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Frankly, sometimes I despair and I haven’t even shown you the, ahem, vegetable patch.

Weekend Round-Up


Posted in: Dublin, Ireland, Princess

Yes, yes, I know that this is very dull for you but, if I don’t record it here, how will I ever remember what we did with our lives?

So, on Saturday we went on the church outing. I never thought that going to mass was going to help me to get to know my neighbours but it seems to be an unintended consequence. We went to an adventure playground, the sun shone, the children played with each other, we sat in the shade and chatted and the whole thing passed off peacefully except for an incident involving herself and the water slide (she wanted to get on it, we wanted to have lunch first).

Then today we had friends around for lunch and the weather was so clement that we were able to sit in the garden. Surely this is not what the Irish summer is about. Rain is forecast.

Weekend Round-up


Posted in: Dublin, Ireland

I’m exhausted. We had GAA mini leagues on Saturday morning. Then we had our street party on Saturday afternoon/evening. The sun shone, the bouncy castles bounced, there was a barbecue, a clown, and a trail of small children in and out to our bathroom. We had two local TDs and the Lord Mayor in attendance (Jason has quite a good post on why this kind of thing happens). Sunday afternoon saw us back at the mini leagues for two more matches and the handing out of medals and miscellaneous prizes. And then on Sunday night we had a dinner party. I feel a glowing sense of achievement tempered by the knowledge that it took a lot out of us.

Naming Policies


Posted in: Ireland

When I was in school there were lots of Niamhs, Orlas, Ciaras, Maeves, Sinéads, Deirdres and Aoifes (it was a girls only school). I suspect these names seemed a bit odd to my grandmothers’ generation of Kates, Hannahs, Noras, Mollys, Bridgets and Ninas.

The latest generation have gone for even more challenging spellings; how about Orfhlaith (pronouned Orla), Maebhdh (pronounced Maiv), Rudhán (pronounced roo awn), Eoghan (pronounced owen), or Sabhdh (pronounced sive – rhymes with drive)? Irish is all about extra consonants. Also, the currently favoured boys names? They often end in a – try Setanta, Barra, Fiachra or Fachtna.

We also have reimported names from America. Kathleen is an anglicisation of the Irish name Caitlín (pronounced Kathleen, trust me here). Caitlín emigrated and became Caitlin which the Americans, as anglophones, pronounced Kate Lynn. That’s fine by me but really, I think there is nothing dafter than an Irish child, born in this jurisdiction being called Caitlin pronounced Kate Lynn. There, I’ve said it. Other American imports that leave me very cold are the range of Irish surnames being used as first names: Casey, Riley, Brandon, Ryan. This is just wrong, I tell you, wrong. Whatever might happen in far off America, it’s just odd here. So there.

Please do put your least favourite names in the comments. Ah go on.

Religious Affiliation


Posted in: Ireland

Me to colleague: So on Sunday, while we have the readings, the children go off to the sacristy for a Sunday school thing.
Colleague: Gosh, that’s brilliant, isn’t it?
Me: Yes, and there’s a church outing, on Saturday week – all of the families are going to some kind of park. And, wait for it, the church are going to pay for us to get in.
Her: Um, are you Protestant?

And this is funny because a) I am Catholic (I have a Catholic name, Irish people can spot your religious background at 20 paces) and b) she’s right, all these luxurious family friendly initiatives were traditionally a feature of the minority faith in this jurisdiction. A powerful church does not need to woo its members; at least that’s always been the tradition here. No longer.

25 Years Too Late


Posted in: Cork, Ireland

When I was in school, the acme of cool in Cork was Benetton. There was one tiny Benetton outlet on Patrick Street and that was where all the cool girls went to get their cool scarves.

I never went in there myself because I was too scared of its stacked neat shelves and the trendy girls looking through them. Also, I think my mother would have been reluctant to fork out a fortune for a Benetton scarf when I could have got a perfectly nice one much more cheaply in Dunne’s.

The summer of first year in college, I went to Italy to work as an au pair and I was horrified to discover that all the shops in Italy boasted rows and rows of folded tops and t-shirts. I had to overcome my nervousness of this layout or not shop at all. The mother of the child I was minding was, to my complete astonishment, dismissive of Benetton – “I suppose it’s alright if you want something cheap and cheerful,” she said. Cheap? Obviously, she had never been to Dunne’s.

But the years passed and, now, increasingly, I find myself picking up things in Benetton – you know, it’s handy and, if not cheap, not exactly expensive either, and cheerful. Next year, I will be out of school 25 years. There may be some sort of reunion, I feel. I suppose all the cool girls are shopping in Prada now though.