Daniel: We know lots more about Catholicism than everyone else at school.
Me: Good to know.
Daniel: Still, remember that time you were shocked when we didn’t know what the rosemary was?
Me: The Rosary, Dan, the Rosary.
This exchange was fresh in my mind when, at my mother’s removal, I hissed at him, somewhat to the surprise of various cousins, “This is it, Dan, we’re saying the Rosary.”
We have booked our summer holiday to Finland and Estonia. You may congratulate us. The logistics took a lot out of us but we are pretty pleased with ourselves now.
In other news we went swimming in Howth last weekend with the French exchange. He said that the water was the coldest he had ever experienced except for that time he went into the water in Iceland for 2 seconds when it was -5 degrees celsius. It was some kind of Icelandic thrill for tourists apparently. I had my first swim of the year and the boys both got in. Mr. Waffle went in up to his waist but then scuttled out. We all scuttled out subsequently on seeing three jellyfish which, I suppose, means that the water is getting warmer but it didn’t feel it.
The approach was quite hilly but there is a path which is not immediately apparent from this picture.
We had chips afterwards to celebrate our deliverance from the jellyfish. Our French exchange was most positive about this aspect of the experience.
In other exciting Summer news, half of the A team in GAA are away for the summer so Daniel got to play a match with the As on Monday night and he played so well that they’ve asked him to start training with them in the autumn and he might get a place on the team. He is filled with cautious joy.
Daniel: Mum, Mum, wake up!
Me (sitting bolt upright in the bed): What, what?
Dan: What time is it?
Me (quick glance at the alarm clock) : 7.45
Him: And what time do you normally get up at?
Me: Dan, today’s Saturday.
Him: Oh sorry, I forgot what day it was.
Me: Oh Dan, the back of your neck is sunburnt, here let me put on some aftersun.
Him (peering at the bottle): Will it hurt?
Me: No, not at all.
Him (peering further at the bottle): It says 24 hour moisture.
Me: Yes, and?
Him: I don’t want to be moist for 24 hours.
School is well over at this stage. The end of year activities were suitably frantic. Michael got a prize for best all-round student in his class and he was pleased. The school reports were fine.
The summer is the usual hodge podge of cobbled together activities. Herself and Daniel had many things organised (Zambia, France, a three week course on law and politics and robotics respectively) and the couple of weeks they have nothing on, I am more than happy for them to hang around the house. While Dan was in Paris, Michael did a drama camp which, frankly, he did not love. Daniel and Michael did a couple of things together – the sports course with French exchange N and a week in Cork with my brother.
I sent the boys to Cork to bond with their Cork relatives. My brother insisted that they bring their bikes and, despite some reservations on my part, I duly complied. My sister collected them from the station and as she cycled into town she chatted to Michael. She said, “It was his voice but your words.” Apparently he admired the segregated cycling infrastructure.
My brother who is the stubbornest person I know, took them on a 15 km cycle to Cobh. They were multi modal and in the course of their travels around Cork they also got the ferry and the train. They seemed to like it. I was impressed despite myself.
They also visited my mother and I was so glad that she got to see them one last time.
Next week, all three children are at home with no plans which I think will probably be ok but from the week after, Michael will be at home alone as the other two are at their camp and his parents are at work. An attempt to sign him up for a sailing course with his cousins has been resisted with extreme vigour. What on earth will he do?
One of the boys’ set textbooks for school is an Irish language novel called “Dúnmharú ar an Dart”. We were talking about it at dinner one evening and Michael volunteered, “It’s actually a really good book, even though it’s in Irish.” The author would be gratified to know, I am sure.