Me: That’s a peculiar noise Daniel.
Him: I yawned, hiccuped and burped all at the same time.
Me: Indeed?
Him: It’s like my body took a screenshot.
Twins
Supporters’ Club
Mr. Waffle is a faithful attender at Daniel’s matches. Dan seems to appreciate the support and I think his father quite enjoys watching him play.
On Tuesday evenings Mr. Waffle plays soccer down the road with some other men from work. One Tuesday evening Daniel announced to Michael and myself, “I am going down to the field of dreams.” We were startled and confused. He clarified that he was off to support his father in his Tuesday night kick around. I was quite touched as was his father but it is unclear if the standard of soccer will encourage him to go again.
WB
Daniel: We’re doing The Lake Isle of Innisfree in school.
Mr. Waffle [to my sister and her partner who have joined us for dinner]: God, when we went to Sligo last year on holidays, we found Yeats didn’t look much outside there for inspiration. All his poems feature places in Sligo.
My sister’s partner [sotto voce]: Sailing to Byzantium
Long pause
Daniel: Where do you think he left from?
Bring Flowers of the Fairest
I remember commenting to a Northern Protestant friend that although the devil has the best tunes (he definitely does, Protestant hymns are so much better that we have taken some, in a spirit of ecumenicism, I assume – indeed, when the Church of Ireland bishops came out and said that Covid was particularly difficult for their services because they hadn’t been able to sing and singing was such an intrinsic part of their worship, it was hard to argue), they are really missing out on the Marian hymns. She was puzzled but intrigued.
I explained to her that May is the month of our Lady. When I was in primary school we had May altars. I used to make little ones at home with flowers from the garden. I also remember picking cherry blossoms for my Nana who came to visit regularly so I may have slightly conflated the delight at her visit with the general pleasure of picking flowers for display.
In primary school each year on a glorious May day we would parade around the school yard with a statue of Mary on a plinth, balanced precariously on the shoulders of sixth class girls, saying prayers and singing hymns led by the principal – who was a nun – with a loudhailer. I wouldn’t say I loved it – and sadly, I never got to carry around the statue which was a very coveted role – but I liked it better than lessons and the flowers and the hymns were always nice.
I am reminded of this because the weather is beautiful this weekend (top tip for any tourists out there, the nicest weather in Ireland is always in May/early June) and the Botanic Gardens and the Phoenix Park, both of which I graced with my presence (making poor old Michael come with me both times, Daniel was at matches, fortunately for him) were delightful. And at mass this morning the final hymn was Bring Flowers of the Fairest which filled me with nostalgic joy.
Bank Holiday Weekend Round Up
We had my brother to stay for a couple of days last week and then my sister and her partner came around on Saturday. Very satisfactory. I do wish my siblings didn’t live quite so far away. Oh well, I suppose Cork is not as far away as it once was. When I was growing up it was a five hour car journey and trains were prohibitively expensive. So better these days I suppose. My brother is coming back this weekend to watch a rugby match so no cause for complaint there really.
Our neighbour gave us rhubarb from his allotment and I stewed it and then made custard. Then I made pavlova from the left over egg whites. Achievement level unlocked. Daniel says this is very appropriate turn of phrase as gaming instructions are often overly elaborate like this: “You have made custard and you have leftover egg whites, what do you do?” Insert warlocks and spells for custard and egg whites and there you go.
On the bank holiday Monday, we went for a walk in Wicklow. It was well trailed and the boys left the house with minimal grumbling in fairness to them. We went up to Eagle’s Crag where we have often gone before.
It didn’t rain much.
Daniel stayed with me so that I would have someone to talk to and to give me a pull up the steeper slopes. I am curious about when we swapped roles.
We missed herself.
La France a Voté
I am not sure how much more bad news I can take so the results of the French election are welcome. Michael was glued to it and even watched the Le Pen/Macron debate in French. If only I had known that this was what it would take to make him voluntarily watch French TV.
I was messaging my friend in Paris during the election and asked her whether there was any chance she knew of some job that my child could do in Paris over the summer. Sadly, she did not. Her own daughter is back for the summer (she too is studying abroad) and my friend is hunting for a job for her. How glad you must be to have her back “pour l’été” I typed. “Pour l’éternité” Apple autocorrected which caused some mild confusion. I just thought you’d like to know how ineffective it is in all languages. I am driven demented with envy by my husband’s absolutely brilliant Android autocorrect.