My parents’ first house was a nice, central semi-detatched Edwardian house on a hill which my father paid for in cash. I find this even more impressive now that I have a mortgage of my own. About a year after they moved in, I was born.
I have asked them which bedroom was mine and they can’t remember. I have also asked my mother what she did with me when she went back to work. “It was the summer holidays”. “I was born in March.” “Oh, so you were, I think a friend of your nana’s who lived on the Grand Parade came in to mind you.” Feckless pair.
Ireland
The clock is ticking
This month, for NaBlPoMo, I was going to tell you about everywhere I have ever lived. I have been planning this for a long time (no sniggering at the back please) and had kept a word document updated with all this precious information which I was going to dole out to you day by day over the month of November (that is uproarious laughter, please leave the classroom).
Except, somehow or other, over the summer, I have forgotten where I put this document for safe keeping during the move. Is it somewhere on a memory stick? Is it in one of the 100s of emails I sent myself on gmail? Is it on some hidden part of the hard drive?  A certain amount of brief and unsystematic exploration has yielded nothing and we are approaching midnight – I would hate to miss out on the chance of a prize right at the start.
Even if I can’t find my document, I plan to write it all up from scratch, so don’t think you’ve been spared.
Tomorrow – my first home.
Why the rich get richer
In Ireland tax returns must be filed by October 31. Today I spoke to an old friend who became a tax lawyer (it was a toss up between art and tax law – she’s unusual) and runs her own practice focussing on the needs of the unbearably rich (yes, they have needs too, I’m getting to that).
Me: I called you yesterday, you didn’t call me back.
Her: No, sorry, I could say that tomorrow is the end of the tax year.
Me:Â Oh, of course, you must be very busy.
Her: Well, I could say that but, obviously, my job is to ensure that my clients don’t have to file tax returns.
We sent in ours last week, since you ask. I could say that this is why I haven’t got round to posting and why the last post insulting the Greens and the Americans has been sitting there for a fortnight continuing to insult but, in fact, Mr. Waffle did our return. That’s why it’s in early.
Deeply disconcerting
At 2.30 this morning, Daniel woke up. I went blearily downstairs to get him a bottle (no advice please). Near the microwave, I felt something squishy under my naked foot. There were two slugs disporting themselves on my kitchen floor. Tell me would it have been better or worse had I been wearing my scholl sandals? Also, how did they get there?
Credit crunched
I met a friend for lunch the other day. We had the following conversation:
Him: You are like Kerry Katona.
Me (feeling a bit like an elderly, out of touch member of the judiciary): Who the hell is Kerry Katona?
Him (sensing my concerns): Formerly part of a popular beat combo known as “Atomic Kittenâ€, m’lud.
Me: Oh yeah, yeah, yeah. [Pensive pause] Why am I like Kerry Katona?
Him: She’s very rough.
Me (coldly): Your point?
Him: I think her mother was a junkie.
Me (very coldly): Your point?
Him: She’s just been declared bankrupt but right up to the moment she ran out of money she kept spending like there was no tomorrow.
Me: Yes, I am just like Kerry Katona.
I am cross with the world’s bankers. For the next couple of years we had expected to be poor as one of us is undertaking a brave new venture in the world of work. And, unfortunately, brave new ventures are often associated with a dip in earnings. Furthermore, also unfortunately, the one undertaking the brave new venture is the one who previously made most of our money. However, we will be poorer than we had anticipated as, alas, our savings from our days of relative affluence have now disappeared in the crash (who, no really, who could have predicted that the greatest economic crash since 1929 would happen on the one occasion we actually had money in the stock market?). We will be living on baked beans for the next two years. A particular pity since none of us is very fond of baked beans.
My lovely aunt who is in Dublin for a couple of days has decided to outwit the bankers by spending all her money now. She took my brother and me to dinner last night at Guilbaud’s which pretty much did the job. It made a very pleasant change from baked beans.
You know the way we all put our faith in the market economy instead of religion? Is anyone else feeling that this was all a bit of a mistake in retrospect? Just curious.
Status Update
Pros
We have our health.
As of last Wednesday we are no longer commuting hours to the city centre from the delightful but distant suburb where my parents-in-law kindly had us stay for 6 weeks (that would be four weeks longer than any of us thought it would be). On the way in there is a level crossing and for many years it has featured in traffic reports as a Dublin landmark and I always thought it was a poor and unremarkable landmark. That was before I realised that every commuter from South County Dublin spent an hour morning and evening crawling past it. Also I spent a number of hours before a scrolling sign on a hotel telling me that bookings were now “been” taken for Christmas. These things grate. Especially if you have to listen to Charlie and Lola on endless repeat while chugging along. Does anyone else thing that Lola needs something done about her adenoids?
The children all like school. Our worries about the Princess going to school in Irish were completely unnecessary. She is picking it up extraordinarily quickly. It is quite amazing to watch. Also, the structured, assigned seat, looking at the blackboard schooling we favour in Ireland seems to really suit her and she is happy. The boys have settled well into Montessori school and we love their teacher. They also seem fond of her.
Cons
Our house is tiny. We have far too much furniture and quite a lot of it is still in storage. Despite 6 weeks and 20,000 euros worth of work, it looks worse than it did before we started. For this, I blame Eamon the electrician who left the place looking like Swiss cheese.
No internet (this comes from an internet cafe), no telephone.
I started work today. I am not particularly enthusiastic about this job but it will pay some of the bills. My reception this morning has not made me more enthusiastic.
My bicycle was stolen over the weekend.