The priest appeared on the altar today resplendent in gold. “What feast is it?” I wondered to myself. All souls, of course. We prayed for all the dead relatives of whom, at my age, I now have more than enough. And I thought about our gardener when I was a child, Michael Lyons, who didn’t have any family of his own (in retrospect, surely he must have had but he was unmarried and lived in quite spartan conditions in a small cottage with a Jack Russell) and was one of the kindest people I have ever known, very gentle and infinitely patient with young children running in the vegetable garden. As Terry Pratchett once put it succinctly doubtless inspired by others “Do you not know that a man is not dead as long as his name is still spoken?” This is a lovely piece from the Irish Times on that very subject by the theatre director Garry Hynes which I first read when it was published in 2017 and which has really stayed with me.
Back in the Saddle
Is it November? It is.
Am I going to post every day? Yes, I am.
Is NaBloPoMo still a thing? Who can say – but it will be here.
While gearing yourself up for a month of fascinating content, do please admire my festive Halloween decor.
By night:
By day:
And will we have a close up of the autumn wreath that I made myself using a hanger, ribbons, leaves and cuttings from the garden? Yes, yes, I think we will. To be honest, it made for a stressful week as it had to be regularly refreshed with leaves from the garden as the old ones wilted or blew away but I felt very crafty, as is seasonally appropriate.
I had cute little pumpkin nightlights and my entire decorative gourd collection on the mantelpiece last night and I was extremely pleased. Sadly it did not photograph well due to glare from 12 nightlights (judge away) so you will just have to imagine gourd perfection. May I yet again refer you to this article which is now an essential element of the season and describes my sentiments admirably.
Allegedly, Children are like Sponges
Me (finding a board book we should arguably have disposed of some time ago): Oooh, “The Very Hungry Caterpillar” do you remember that book? We must have read it to you hundreds of times.
Middle child: No.
Me: You must do, he’s a really hungry caterpillar and eats lots of things.
Middle child: No.
Me: Guess what happens in the end?
Middle child: He explodes?
Commitment
Regular readers will be aware that I am committed to the bicycle. However, over the summer I saw an older gentleman cycling with golf clubs on his back. It just goes to show, it can be done. Though, I have to say, I would definitely hesitate.
Decorative Gourd Season Update
I played tennis this morning at 10 and cursed myself for agreeing to get up early a third morning of the bank holiday weekend, I mean why, why would I do that to myself? But, as always, it was very enjoyable when I got there and we all played really well (it was the regular doubles group) or else the beginners at the next court made us feel we played really well but either way we were delighted with ourselves and had tea and bun afterwards to celebrate (we always have tea and buns afterwards if we play on the weekend).
Afterwards I went into town on my ongoing decorative gourd quest. Even though Halloween is next Friday, upstairs in the homeware section of Dunnes (my happy place, sadly, I know, sadly) it is Christmas and all trace of Halloween has been removed. Downstairs in grocery though what did I find? Oh yes, decorative gourds galore. Reduced to clear to boot. I got nine for €4.41 (managing to avoid the mouldy ones). Where would you be going?
After lunch, Mr. Waffle and I went out to the pier for a walk. A bit wet but not actually raining. What can you call that but a win? The ice cream vendor at the end of the pier was open as well so I got a 99. Thrills.
After our health giving walk, we were going to go to the Royal Marine hotel for a cup of tea (our help in ages past) but our eye was caught by this new place where we hadn’t been before – Haddington House – I can definitely recommend. We got lovely cosy seats by the fire and very prompt service. The Royal Marine is a bit careworn and although there are lovely views from the drawing room, the good seats are often taken by people who bagged them in 1966 and haven’t moved since. Younger punters like us are generally shunted in to the windowless back room so all in all, I think our pier experience will be considerably enhanced by the entry into our lives of Haddington House.
We dropped in to say hello to Mr. Waffle’s brother on the way home (he limped to the door after yesterday’s marathon experience but seems otherwise unaffected). He had lots of news; they are staring down the barrel of major house renovations and they have just found somewhere to live while the builders take their house apart and put it back again. He was home alone as my nephew and niece were out with their friends and – rather more excitingly – my sister-in-law had just left for Tokyo for work. I would like to go to Japan, I must say; though not for work. And that was that for the weekend. There is something to be said for a peaceful bank holiday weekend. How was your own bank holiday, if you celebrate?
Damp but Cheerful
It is a bank holiday Sunday here and the day of the Dublin marathon. After Mr. Waffle had cheered on his brother and the half dozen other people he knew who were doing the marathon (I know!), we got out of dodge and went to Carlingford. We walked up the mountain and viewed the bay. It was quite wet I would have to say.
Usually you can see the Mourne mountains really clearly across the bay but not today. “Fog in Carlingford Lough, UK cut off,” said Mr. Waffle.
However, climactic conditions notwithstanding it was nice to be out. We had a lovely lunch as a reward for our walk and a look around the cute shop beside the cafe (can I recommend this spot if you ever find yourself in Carlingford?). I thought it might need my Halloween decor needs but it did not. My quest for decorative gourds is ongoing and time is now running out. I started looking too early and then I stopped and now it appears to be too late. Alas.
There was an article in the paper yesterday about Halloween being more Christmassy than Christmas and I sort of know what the writer meant. I have enjoyed getting out my Halloween tat and laying in sweets for the little trick or treaters but there’s no pressure. Not that I don’t still love Christmas, of course.