Ireland

A Grand Day Out

17 November, 2021
Posted in: Ireland, Siblings, Work

To be honest, I thought I would be a bit older before this happened; I mean that I would regard a funeral as a social occasion but look, there were extenuating circumstances. My sister came up from Cork late last night. Good and early this morning, we drove out of Dublin to Wicklow to attend the funeral of the wife of my father’s oldest living friend (96 and very sprightly – he and my father were friends for nearly 80 years). The funeral was, of course, very sad for the immediate family. It was a lovely service and both sons gave great speeches.

I was surprised to see a couple I knew in the congregation. It turned out that they were neighbours of one of the dead woman’s sons and, this being Ireland, the husband discovered during the course of the service, that she had actually taught him in school.

We sympathised, we chatted and then it was 11.30 on a beautiful day and my sister and I were both on a day off work and in Wicklow (the garden of Ireland, I’ll have you know). So we went to Powerscourt for a look round and a nice lunch and a long chat. God, I was delighted. You will recall that I was supposed to be in Cork at the weekend but my trip was cancelled due to a late Covid test result. I really didn’t think I would be seeing my sister so soon and for such a pleasant day out.

She dropped me home, tried (and failed) to light the Aga and headed back to Cork. I welcomed the boys home from school and sat down to read the paper. A friend from work called with news that a re-organisation is imminent. He, alas, is being moved and maybe me too for all I know, I will find out more tomorrow. Mildly unsettling.

And in Covid news, it looks like things are going backwards again and case numbers are up. And antigen tests are in. And nightclubs and bars are to close at midnight (to be honest, not a huge deal for me). Alas.

Dealing with Uncertainty

12 November, 2021
Posted in: Cork, Ireland, Siblings

Lads, still no sign of my Covid test result. I was supposed to be getting on the Cork train at 3 this afternoon to go for a birthday dinner with my sister. I’ve pushed out the booking to 5 and am checking my phone at 2 second intervals to see are the results in. It’s going really well for me. I mean, even if I have it, knowing would be better than the uncertainty.

Anyway, I feel a bit better than I did yesterday so that’s something. Hold on to your hats and prepare for exciting updates.

Continuing Our Ongoing Diary Entries

2 November, 2021
Posted in: Family, Ireland, Middle Child, Mr. Waffle, Twins, Youngest Child

Wednesday October 20, 2021

It lashed rain. Despite my elaborate rain gear, the wind drove the rain up the arms of my coat leading to damp cuffs. Alas. There is no better way to get wet than on a bicycle.

Thursday, October 21, 2021

My sister-in-law and her husband and daughter arrive from England. Who would have thought that when they moved back to London in October 2019, it would be two full years before they came back to Ireland? I was pretty excited to see my now four year old niece in the flesh as opposed to on Skype.

Friday, October 22, 2021

The school sent a message notifying us that we need to avoid jelly cannabis. I have so many questions. The boys dressed up for Halloween and went into school as Mr. Potato Head and a man in black. I like the potato peeler which doubles as a memory eraser but you can understand why Mr. Potato Head looks nervous.

The in-laws came around. The absolute thrill. I was so pleased to see them. It made me a bit sad that they had been away for so long. We took in an exciting trip to the local playground. All go. My brother-in-law, surveying the range of outfits, asked whether Irish children always dressed up for Halloween on the last day before the mid-term break. “They do,” I confirmed, “do they not in England?” Apparently not. “It’s racism awareness fortnight,” he offered but it’s really not the same.

I had another dental appointment to deal with the bit that fell off my tooth. I am sick of the dentist and he may well be sick of me.

The boys and I watched a quite complicated but rather delightful Studio Ghibli film on Netflix. Thomas, their favourite childminder made them watch loads of Studio Ghibli films as he said that they were an indispensable part of childhood. He was a great childminder.

Mr. Waffle had tickets to the football league of Ireland semi-final but Dan didn’t feel like going and although I offered to go in his stead, Mr. Waffle said no one would believe that I was an under 18 season ticket holder. Alas. On many levels.

We were supposed to more or less be going back to normal post-October 22 but the Covid figures are on the up so no return to normal just yet.

Saturday, October 23, 2021

It was my father-in-law’s anniversary. I’m sure he would have been delighted to see his three children and their spouses and children gathered together. Probably would not have been delighted that his eldest son had come down with some kind of vomiting bug. Poor Mr. Waffle, he sat hunched miserably in the corner of the room like a ghost at the feast.

Sunday October 24, 2021

Dan had his last match with his current GAA team. They have been together since they were 6** so he was pretty sad. Still, minor play beckons (the next level up).

In the afternoon we headed to Mount Usher where we met the cousins and attempted to recreate the photo we took the last time we were there two years ago. Sadly herself wasn’t there being off in England but otherwise, I was quite pleased with the recreation of the picture. It is not easy being archivist in chief; for one thing your children tend to mercilessly mock you.

As Monday was the bank holiday, we all stayed overnight in a local hotel. The four teenagers had dinner before the adults and they sat and ordered together. I am very pleased that the cousins know each other so well. Cousins are a bit different from friends, it’s much easier to chat with them even if you haven’t seen each other for weeks and there is a shared understanding of family which makes it more relaxing to be together, I think. My niece has turned into an extraordinarily pretty teenager and I said as much to the boys to which Daniel replied, “Maybe that’s how you roll in Cork but I can’t say, I’d noticed.” On balance, a good thing, I suppose though, naturally I resent the anti-Cork slur.

Monday October 25, 2021

Daniel had arranged to meet a friend in town at lunch time so we went back to Dublin quite promptly. “Any idea what you and your friend are going to be doing in town?” I asked. “Yes,” said he. Mysterious. Anyhow he seems to have had a good time and stayed away from the cannabis jelly. Michael rather revelled at being the only child in the car once we had dropped off his brother.

I went into Dunnes Stores with a coat I had bought for Dan which proved to be faulty (problem with a seam, since you ask). I had no receipt but I stood my ground politely but firmly and (for the first time ever) asked to see a manager who confirmed that yes it was faulty and they would exchange it or refund me the cost. I emerged dizzy with relief and excitement. Middle aged achievement level unlocked.

I had a distinctly Sunday night feeling on Monday whereas the lucky children were just beginning their mid-term and, while sympathetic, could not really enter into my feelings.

Stay tuned all month for more fascinating content of a very similar nature.

**Updated to add, Mr. Waffle says since he was 3 but that surely can’t be right. You would think with my complete blog and photographic archive I might be able to find out but no, look, certainly since he was very young.

All Quiet on the Western Front

26 September, 2021
Posted in: Dublin, Family, Ireland, Middle Child, Princess, Twins, Youngest Child

Monday, September 20, 2021

I had lunch with a friend whose Dutch mother-in-law had saved for me a copy of Royals magazine which had a special on MÃ¡xima’s 50th birthday. It was saved for me through Covid, flown in specially from the Netherlands by my friend and then I left it behind me in the pub where we met for lunch. Gutted.

I stepped down as treasurer of the parents’ council. I am ecstatic.

I saw on the internet that FranÃ§oise Bernard has died (at the ripe old age of 100). My mother loved her book “Les Recettes Faciles” and used it all the time. Someone posted a picture of it on the internet and it really brought me back to my childhood. As far as I know, it is still in my parents’ house. Like everything else.

Tuesday, September 21, 2021 – Autumn Equinox

My sister is anxious that the boys, whose 16th birthday is on Monday, send her some indication of what they might like as presents. Michael is particularly hard to buy for. He sends her an email saying: “I appreciate that it must be very difficult to shop for someone with few material desires.” Where to begin?

As a lockdown project, Mr. Waffle started sending birthday greetings into a whatsapp group of people he did a European masters with in Belgium many years ago. He has their year book in hard copy (that was the only kind of year book available in the early 90s). One of the surprising things to emerge is a man who says that he lied about his birthday because he wanted to celebrate during term time. People are odd. Anyhow, lockdown is over but Mr. Waffle’s work as the pan-European birthday fairy continues.

Wednesday, September 22, 2021

Our new French conversation woman came to the house. She was greeted with resignation rather than enthusiasm by the boys but look, good enough. I hope that it works out. At least it will be in person rather than online so I hope it goes a bit better than last year. I’m quite pleased with my wheeze of putting up paper ads in the student accommodation and local shops to find someone even though it felt very 20th century.

Over dinner I said when linking two fascinating items of conversation, “to segue seamlessly”. “Did you just pronounce that ‘seg‘?” asked herself. “I did,” I said. “It’s an Italian word not a French one, it’s pronounced “segway” like the yoke,” she said while laughing hysterically. I am flabbergasted. I have checked since with friends and colleagues; I am the only one who has fallen into this error. Alas. Still I am now among the enlightened. As my Nana used to say, “you are never too old to learn”.

Thursday, September 23, 2021

Dan and Michael got their second vaccine dose. Daniels’s bike gave up. We had rescued it from the shed in Cork during lockdown when bikes were hard to come by but it was always a bit sub-optimal. I think it might possibly have been my father’s last bike before he gave up cycling in his 80s.

Friday, September 24, 2021

Poor Michael was sick as a dog after his vaccine and stayed home from school but Dan was fine. Herself got her hair cut.

I found myself at a bit of a loose end on Friday evening for the first time in as long as I can remember. Michael was sick in bed. Daniel and his father had gone to a football match.

Herself was packing for her weekend in Edinburgh (she’s visiting a friend). She was singing “La Vie en Rose” to herself and as the house was so uncharacteristically silent, it floated clearly down the stairs. I will miss hearing her sing around the house.

My brother revealed that he will be in Dublin a day or two a week from October and will be staying with us unless that doesn’t suit. I said that we will give it a go and see how it goes; I am a little dubious. I am tidy, he is not. If I arrive down in the morning to find his dirty dishes in the sink, this may not work for us. However, I suspect it will be temporary as either he will move to Dublin full time or find another job in Cork. We will see. I believe my sister thinks I might go insane. She might be right.

Saturday, September 25, 2021

Mr. Waffle took herself to the airport at the crack of dawn. Michael was recovered, in celebration, I took him to the Beuys exhibition in the Hugh Lane gallery. To be honest, neither of us loved it. Daniel had a football match. Apple season continues unabated.

Having announced to the family that it is impossible to make apple jelly that doesn’t set, I proceeded to make a batch that failed to set. Pride comes before a fall etc.

My sister drove to Valentia in Kerry with a friend with a view to taking a long-planned trip to Skellig Michael on the following day. The boat was cancelled due to inclement weather, alas. Still she sent me a nice photo from Valentia.

Sunday, September 26, 2021

Another sermon about climate change at mass which also touched on the 7 deadly sins, haven’t heard about them in a good while. The archbishop has written a pastoral letter (on climate change rather than the 7 deadly sins) which we are encouraged to buy for â‚¬2.50. I’m unsure about that investment. My attention drifted during the prayers of the faithful and I was startled to hear the priest expressing gratitude for teapots. I mean, I am grateful, more practically grateful than for other things that we may be grateful for during the prayers of the faithful but it struck me as… unusual. The priest remarked that he worked in England for 30 years, perhaps this was part of it?

Daniel and Michael had a couple of friends over to eat pizza and play board games to celebrate their birthday. Daniel managed to use the projector to put an x-box game on the big screen. We have been using the projector for film night for 18 months or so at this stage. We bring in a whole shelf of dictionaries to stand the projector on. Daniel put it at an angle on one small paperback and it projected perfectly. As his father said, “That light and optics physics course we sent him on was definitely worth it.” I feel a bit foolish.

Mr. Waffle and I went off to the other side of the city where we had a cup of tea, visited his mother and went for a mild walk in the rain. More appealing than it sounds.

I can’t believe that Angela Merkel is leaving us. The boys weren’t even 2 months old when she first became Chancellor and they will be 16 tomorrow. She has been there all their lives. I know politicians are often more popular abroad than at home but I thought she was amazing and I am sorry to see her go; it’s truly the end of an era.

Just Another Day for You and Me in Paradise*

19 September, 2021
Posted in: Cork, Dublin, Ireland, Middle Child, Mr. Waffle, Princess, Siblings, Twins, Youngest Child

Monday, September 13, 2021

So I booked myself a Covid test online even though I am double vaccinated. I was unnerved by my colleague (also double vaccinated) and his wife (ditto) getting sick. In fairness, to the HSE, it’s really easy to do. I’ve had to give far more data booking a restaurant.

Parents’ council is back. I tried very hard to step down from my role as treasurer at this meeting but failed.

Tuesday, September 14, 2021

I had my Covid test. The whole thing was stupendously efficient. I was in and out in 5 minutes. “Have you had one before?” asked the man with the cotton bud on a long stick. â€œNo,” I said. “You’ve done well,” he said. I was slightly dreading it but after 18 months of constantly swabbing, they seem to have really refined the technique. It was a little ticklish but very fast and not painful.

Wednesday, September 15, 2021

We had salmon for dinner and I rescued my hollandaise from the freezer. It thawed beautifully. I was delighted with myself. I thought it might be nice if it was a bit warmer and plunged my plastic bowl of hollandaise into a pot boiling water because I am an idiot. Of course, it instantly split but I shoved in an ice cube and started beating frantically and it came back together. I felt like a cordon bleu genius. It was a bit cool mind when we put it on the fish but I’m definitely still counting this as a win.

Also my Covid test came back negative and I felt like a bit foolish for going at all. But still, nice to be reassured.

I drove herself out to a party. We passed a neighbour’s house dense in foliage. “Their creeper is out of control,” I said. “It’s more like a stalker at this point,” said herself. She’s hilarious. How will I manage when she is off in godless England? She pointed out that Ireland is pretty godless as well at this stage. Not the point.

Thursday, September 16, 2021

I have to say that work continues to be demanding. I am exhausted from it. I arrived home to a surprise from Mr. Waffle who had been in a bookshop and picked me up two books as a present in view of my general exhaustion. God, I was thrilled. Is there anything better than an unexpected present?

Friday, September 17, 2021

It was lashing. I regretted my choice of an outdoor play for our evening’s entertainment. It was culture night and we booked ourselves into Milano’s for a festive start to the evening. Daniel hurt his shoulder so instead of cycling in as we would normally do, we took the car. There must be some kind of mathematical relationship between how smug a cyclist you are and how awful things will be when you drive, because it took us 40 traffic choked minutes to get into town and find parking. Herself who was travelling under her own steam took 10 minutes to cycle in.

On the plus side, the weather cleared up. We could only book in pods of four for the play. I offered not to go but that was unnecessary as there was an unseemly clamour among the children to be the one who would not go to the play. Herself won.

It was in the grounds of Dublin Castle. The Castle was busy for culture night and, as always, it was nice to be herded off into a blocked off area where something exciting was happening.

There were picnic tables for each pod to sit at and it worked quite well. We had to keep our masks on for the duration which seemed a bit excessive as we were outdoors. I was very relieved that there were seats though as I had been worried we might have to stand. The setting was lovely.

Someone started waving from a table behind us. It was the woman who did French language conversation with the children (alas, she is leaving us this year). Then someone called my name from the table directly behind us – it was some friends from book club. We did more in person socialising before the start of the performance than we have done in 18 months. Thrilled.

The play itself was fine. It was a musical, heavy on folk music. Michael actively liked it and, as ever, indifferent to the views of others, leapt up at the end and gave a standing ovation. Michael loves a standing ovation. It was good to be out. I am going to chalk it up as one of my successes.

On our way back to the car, we passed by Christchurch. I said to the boys, “What church is that?” “We know, we know,” said Michael, “Christchurch where they keep Fintan O’Toole’s heart.” Look, close enough.

Saturday, September 18, 2021

Herself has gone to Cork to say farewell to the Cork relatives before emigrating. My sister bought her new boots in Cork. I cannot speak about the outrageous expense of this. Knee high boots from Carl Scarpa bought at full price in September. What an excellent aunt.

I made more apple jelly and stuck the posters I got at the Fringe festival on my jam jars. I mean, what else am I to do with them? I now have trendy preserves. I have to confess that it’s a bit unlikely my jar of plum jam actually could be an art space but I am spreading the message.

I stuck up posters around the place looking for a new person to do French conversation with the boys. I felt very old, sticking up posters rather than going online. We will see what comes of it.

I, very cravenly, resigned from the parents’ council treasurer role by texting the group chat. I think I have achieved escape velocity.

Sunday, September 19, 2021

Mr. Waffle and I cycled to Chapelizod, then we went and looked at the art in the Irish Museum of Modern Art. I’m not sure I am able for it. It’s been open 30 years and they had a poster on the wall showing all their exhibitions from 1991. The only one I can remember is this one. The little man bangs his head on the bell at one point and it made a very memorable ding. Of the rest, alas, absolutely no memory remains.

I quite liked some slightly weird portraits by an artist called Alice Maher but doubtless I will forget all about them like everything else I have ever seen there.

We went for a restorative cup of tea afterwards.

Meanwhile herself went to Dungarvan with her uncle where they were due to cycle 70kms. I await hearing about developments. Last update was at 4.30 when her uncle said, “Finally stopped for lunch after two punctures and numerous setbacks. Turns out herself isn’t that keen on 4.30 lunch either Anne [I refer you to my last lunch date with my brother], must run in the family, that plus being continually exhorted to admire the views of the UNESCO geothermal copper coast has resulted in the a less than happy [girl] but she has been stoic.”

Not sure how much of their 70kms they achieved but at least she’s fed.

And that’s it for another exciting week.

At this point I am still trying to put off the work I brought home and did not do all weekend. I also have to do the parents’ council accounts before the AGM tomorrow night when (be still my beating heart) I will step down from the role. Oh Sunday night delights.

*Will Phil Collins ever become fashionable do you think? Will the young people some day love him unironically like they do Dolly Parton?

Updated to add: they did 68kms of their 70. Not bad!

The South – A Trip Down Memory Lane: Holidays Week 3

10 September, 2021
Posted in: Cork, Family, Ireland, Middle Child, Mr. Waffle, Princess, Siblings, Twins, Youngest Child

Monday, August 16, 2021

We drove south towards Cork. We stopped off for food at lunch time in Ennis. Ennis is lovely and very lively. It benefits from being a commuter town from Limerick – you could see there was money spent in the town – and also has a good local community so doesn’t feel anything like a dormitory town. I have friends from nearby and got excellent lunch recommendations. I inadvertently skipped the queue for tables and although we apologised profusely, everyone in Ennis hates us and we may never be able to go back. I went into a local book shop and came out bearing proudly a jigsaw with a picture of Kinsale (where we were to stay for the next week). I was slightly dashed when Daniel pointed out, accurately, that it was full of sea and sky, the jigsaw makers’ kryptonite.

We drove on to Kinsale, travelling down from Limerick along the road I am extremely familiar with having spent my childhood driving up and down it with my mother: to visit my Nana, my cousins, and my mother’s butcher in Bruree ( he used to slaughter his own animals and she would buy half a cow, a sheep or a pig, bagged up and frozen, throw it in the boot and take it back to the chest freezer in Cork, it was a largely successful arrangement but sometimes his labelling was eccentric and she would thaw stewing beef only to find it was actually steak).

Covid has meant that my children are more familiar with their own country than I ever was at their age. We worked out that they have been through 30 of the 32 counties and have stayed in 16. They weren’t very interested I fear. Nor did they find my exposition on the Barrymores (inspired by passing their ancestral home in Buttevant – the Barrymores themselves were inspiration my mother always said for “The Rakes of Mallow” – though I see Wikipedia does not agree – I also told the children that Steeplechasing was invented by the young rakes in this part of the world – so many things to share!) any more fascinating. As we passed Murphy’s brewery on our way into Cork city I said, “That’s where your great-great grandfather worked and your great great uncle.” Were they interested? They were not, I fear.

We finally arrived in Kinsale where the (v expensive – though Kinsale was always expensive even when there was no money in Ireland) Airbnb was, happily, a lot more attractive than it looked online. And I didn’t feel quite so ripped off when I realised it was a family home and the family were living on their boat over the summer while we moved into their home. It reminded me vaguely of my father talking about when he was a child going on holidays to Fountainstown and staying in a house while the owner decamped to the hay shed for the summer.

The house was nice, central, with parking (always a challenge in Kinsale) and a good back garden well set up for sunshine and rain. It also had a hot tub (as my brother said, “what, did they win the lottery?”). There were a lot of affirmations stuck up everywhere. I think I would find it a bit tiring to live full time in a house that was quite so keen to tell me to live my best life.

Tuesday, August 17, 2021

Herself and myself got up with the lark and drove into Cork. We had breakfast in the Crawford gallery and then had a wander around the gallery.

We went to the Market and bought lunch ingredients and marzipan fruit. I took her into Saint Peter and Paul’s for her to admire, as we were passing. Pugin, she didn’t think much of it. My father always hated a gothic revival church and Pugin, in particular, which is unfortunate as Ireland is stacked with them. Catholic emancipation coincided with the gothic revival and the results are as you might imagine.

We spent a tricky 15 minutes trying to find where we parked in the multi-storey car park which brought our relationship to its knees following a successful morning but all was well in the end.

Herself had wanted to hire a bike and go cycling along the coast in Sligo but I was a bit nervous. Although she is 18 and cycles all over the city centre in Dublin, I always worry most about those quiet, narrow, rural roads where cars are bombing along and a cyclist is an unexpected obstacle. The compromise was that she could go out for a cycle with her uncle while they were in Cork. We dropped round and picked up a spare bike from him ( does everyone who owns one bike kind of acquire others without noticing?).

We visited my 92 year old aunt who was pleased to see us. We stopped off at my parents’ grave on the way back to Kinsale. She can find her way to it no bother which is more than I can say in relation to my grandparents’ graves.

When we got back we went for a swim in Garrettstown which was nice but chilly. It gave us a chance to fully appreciate the hot tub afterwards.

Herself and my brother went for a 30km round trip evening cycle out to the Old Head which they both seemed to really enjoy. Whatever floats your boat, I suppose.

My brother stayed for dinner and tested to hot tub after which he pronounced satisfactory.

There was some talk over dinner about Leaving Cert results. My brother showed us a press photo, circulated by a friend of his, of some of his school friends getting their results 30 years ago. They looked delighted if slightly oddly dressed (bat wing jumpers forever). My brother said that he had been standing beside them looking at his results as well and he was a bit disappointed (as he said himself, alright but the lower end of expectations). The photographer from the Examiner caught his eye and suggested by a wave of the arm that he move out of shot. Media manipulation, eh? Only now can it be told, the real story of LC results day.

Wednesday August 18, 2021

Like a fool I had booked myself and Mr. Waffle in for food foraging at the crack of dawn. I was up at 7.30 on holidays. The horror. The food foraging itself was quite interesting actually; I learnt a lot about seaweed. I will never again look at the foreshore in quite the same way. We had a picnic afterwards and I thought it was to be from the food we had foraged but, happily, it was not or largely not, some seaweed bread our host had baked earlier, that kind of thing.

Herself went off cycling again. On her own. I was a bit nervous but she lived to tell the tale.

My oldest friend and her husband came to visit us. She has a house in Ballydehob which is not exactly handy for Kinsale (Cork is a big county) but she was in the vicinity to check on her mother’s house. I can’t tell you how lovely it was to see her for the first time in I don’t know how long. I surprised myself by almost crying when she came in the door. You don’t really realise how much you have missed what has been taken away by Covid until you get it back, I find.

Thursday, August 19,2021

I dropped herself up to the train in Cork. We were a bit tight for time. We’d walked into Kinsale before she left to get her a sandwich for the train and, perhaps, we lingered too much. Anyhow we made it. I must say though, as we drove along MacCurtain street (the last leg of the journey), I couldn’t help saying to herself that it reminded me of all the 100s of times I had been in the exact same position with my mother, driving to the station with moments to spare. She was strangely uncomforted by this. But look, she made it. I’m not sure it could have been much tighter. When I said to her, “Aren’t you glad though that you spent that extra time in lovely Kinsale rather than sitting in the boring old station?” she just said, “No.” It looks like she is her father’s daughter. Him and his odd punctual ways.

We went sailing with the boys in Oysterhaven in the afternoon. My oldest friend (mentioned above) lived in Oysterhaven as a child and when I was young, I used to go to her house a fair bit. Given the epic distance from the city, I often stayed over. But I’d say I hadn’t been to Oysterhaven in at least 30 years. As we rounded the bends in the country roads, each corner was familiar. It was so strange.

I suppose around Kinsale and further west is the landscape of my childhood. All of these places are inextricably associated with my parents. I can’t help thinking of them when I go to places I have been with them. Particularly places we went regularly when I was young. Probably, the last time I was in Oysterhaven was with my parents (it wasn’t really somewhere you get under your own steam). It made me feel quite sad to be there again after such a long time.

As we passed my friend’s old house, I said to Mr. Waffle and the boys, “And they and the neighbours lugged down concrete to the rocks and you could swim from there, it was very exciting. The beach was a bit far away.” As we rounded the next corner and were on the beach, I was slightly mystified. I mean, it might be a long way if you had small children I suppose, but it can’t have been more than a 10 minute walk from the house. I had forgotten. I texted my friend to ask why they had bothered with the concrete place and she said: 1. It was nearer; 2. It was a swimming hole which was exciting; and 3. The beach was often covered in tar from the Betelguese disaster. I have to say until she said it, I had completely forgotten how much tar on the beach was a feature of the west Cork of my childhood. You were always trying not to get it on the soles of your feet, on your towels, on your clothes. You were constantly on the look out for it and, excitingly, on the odd rare hot days, it kind of melted. It was as much part of the landscape of my childhood beach days as the windbreak and the sandy sandwich. Thinking about it as an adult, I am appalled but it never bothered me as a child.

The sailing was grand. Like everything in Ireland this summer, it seemed to be largely staffed by teenagers (is this a “the policemen are getting younger” phenomenon?). When asked about our sailing experience, I said that I had capsized my boss more than once on an away day in the Lake District 15 years ago and gone on a Glenan’s sailing course for a week in college. The young woman smiled and said that her friend’s mother had done that back in the day. Feeling a bit elderly, I have to say. The lovely young woman who came out with us was the same age as my first born and, she was chatting away to the boys like a peer which, I suppose, she was.

Meanwhile back in Dublin, herself was having a fantastic time for herself. I thought she might be nervous in the house on her own but she definitely was not. One of her friend’s was house sitting and pet minding for the director of Dublin zoo so she spent the evening at a dinner party in the zoo which was excellent apparently.

Friday August 20, 2021

It was lashing, my God, positively biblical quantities of water.

No rain in Dublin and herself got her second vaccine dose and remained dry as well.

Mr. Waffle went around to visit a friend from London who has a house in Kinsale. The boys and I hung around the house and then headed up to Cork.

I made them go to the Crawford as well.

But we did also go to a game shop where they got more Magic cards (if you don’t know, you’re better off).

We visited my aunt who was touchingly delighted to see them. Then I deposited them with my sister’s partner to play Magic for the evening and my sister, my brother and I went out for dinner which was very nice. We lost track of time and I was a bit worried about the boys and my sister’s partner as we didn’t get back to her house until 12. I needn’t have worried, they were all still locked in mortal combat and I had to give them 15 minutes to finish off the game.

Saturday, August 21, 2021

Mr. Waffle and I went out for a delicious breakfast leaving the boys asleep in bed.

The weather was beautiful (biblical rainfall had moved to Dublin where my poor daughter got soaked on her bike) and we went to Kinsale beach in the afternoon which is not the most beautiful beach in this neck of the woods but is very handy and close to the town. There was a wedding party getting photos on the beach and it was lovely to see the return to normality.

We all swam – it wasn’t too cold. Then the boys and I walked up to James Fort which was lovely. It was just a delightful day.

We decided to go to the Bulman for dinner but our luck ran out. They were taking walk-ins only which is always a bad sign. When we arrived, the waitress told us that there was no way they could fit us in. Alas. Back to the supermarket. Sigh.

Sunday, August 22, 2021

Mr. Waffle and I went into town and I picked up a print of the Bulman though it was not a moment when I was feeling particularly kindly towards that establishment. I’ve hung it in the downstairs bathroom – compromise.

My brother joined us for lunch bringing with him a mini-fridge stocked with ingredients (yes, really). After lunch, he, Daniel and Mr. Waffle settled down to watch the match while Michael and I went for a stroll around the town. Cork were playing Limerick in the All-Ireland hurling final. As I left the house, 15 minutes in, I heard my brother say, “It’s not over yet.” I wouldn’t exactly regard that as a good sign. As Michael and I walked around the town, the pubs were heaving but not a sound came out other than the noise of the TV commentary. I regret to inform you that Cork were annihilated. My Limerick cousins will be unbearable.

Unclear how those thinking of purchasing from Lisney estate agents in Limerick would feel about the above (the all-Ireland hurling champions bring home the Liam McCarthy cup).

As it was the last night of the holidays, we had dinner out which was grand; after our experience at the Bulman, we went somewhere that took bookings.

And we finished the jigsaw.

Monday, August 23, 2021

We packed up and came home to Dublin. The roads are so good now that we flew up. We stopped off for lunch at Junction 14 (Ireland’s finest motorway stop) and were home before 3. Herself was out and about but made dinner for us that evening which was excellent. I picked up the various packages and books were waiting for us at the post office and the library. The Irish Times despite being cancelled was delivered every day we were away. And that is the end.

I did have a good time and it was lovely to be off for so long. However, I am looking forward to holidaying abroad next year. If nothing else it will be much cheaper.

How were your own summer holidays?