We had the American priest for mass again. He made us call out “promise-bridge-freedom” during the sermon. Several times. We called out lustily because we knew he wouldn’t stop until we had made enough noise. But our tone was distinctly doleful. For the creed, he made us say “absolutely” as he read out each line in turn. Priest: “I believe in one God, the Father almighty maker of heaven and earth, of all things visible and invisible.” Pause. Cringe. Congregation: “Absolutely”. And so on.
Some Planning Required
The children have downloaded a number of apps on my phone. Battle Nations is popular at the moment and apparently “it’s even better, if you share it with friends.” They want to share but I have pointed out that the only friends available through my phone are my friends who won’t be interested in Battle Nation. Aside, I notice, that somebody posted an invitation to pet hotel on my twitter feed, that wasn’t me.
While he was washing his teeth, Daniel asked me whether I had any friends who were pregnant. “Yes, why?” I asked. “So that when the children are born and get bigger you can invite their parents to play Battle Nations and they can give the phone to the children.” What did I say in response? “We’ll see”. Of course.
I still maintain that I am doing better than Chris over at Rude Cactus on June 25.
Princess Mia
Herself loves the Princess Diaries books and when the Princess Diaries II was on the TV the other night, I let her stay up until 9 to watch it. It is the most unrelentingly awful film. The fictional kingdom of Genovia is inspired by a mish-mash of Monégasque, English and Eastern European influences. Accents are a bizarre mix, the linguistic regime is, at best, unclear and the whole thing is deeply odd. But she absolutely loved it. She watched the whole thing in a state of rapt delight.
Germaine Greer has a chapter of “The Female Eunuch” devoted to men and women’s different expectations of romance. I think the rot probably starts here.
Barbarians at the Gate
From Saturday’s Irish Times, page 15:
“..in the immediate aftermath of the explosion, you can see the enormity of the task…”
No, you can see the size of the task or the vastness of the task.
Same paper page 9:
On a Senator who dislikes NAMA: “We were expecting a very heated discussion, seeing as he is such a public protagonist of Nama.”
Antagonist, perhaps?
No Rest for the Wicked
Michael:Is there mass on Sunday?
Me:Yes.
Him: But why, it’s the holidays!
I Wouldn’t Say the Battle is Won but it isn’t Lost Either
This article by Anne-Marie Slaughter has been doing the rounds on the internet and I’m sure you’ve already seen it somewhere else.
It’s an interesting article. The author is clearly surprised that she wasn’t able to juggle teenage children and working at a very demanding job in another city. This was because she had always been able to manage children and a demanding job before. Personally, I think it was really the commute and time away that killed her. She’s clearly very clever and ambitious. I think her thesis is, if it can’t work for me, then it can’t work for anyone. But, ironically, it is working for her. She has an important, influential job as an academic. Yes, she gave up an even better and more influential job and she is annoyed that she couldn’t make it work. I think it is true that she would have been less likely to give up, if she were a man but I still think that feminism has brought us a long, long way. So, I wouldn’t exactly call it a good news story but it isn’t quite the disaster for feminism that that she’s painting.
While my own work-life balance isn’t perfect, I can see it is far better than my mother’s was. I enjoyed paid maternity leave after my babies were born. I don’t work in a world where children only get sick on weekends or one where only their mothers can take them to the surgery. I have a job that is interesting and that I enjoy. I am also going to take July and August off work in a combination of unpaid parental leave and holidays so that I will be with my children for a very long summer break. Also, today my boss of bosses summoned me to his office and said, “You do a great job. We don’t say that enough here. You deserve your break. Enjoy yourself.” Hurrah for work. Hurrah for feminism. Hurrah for my summer holidays also.