This from the book I am reading:
“[Radical publisher of Paine’s “The Rights of Man”] Rickman had loudly advertised his radical affiliations and literary affections by baptising one of his children as Paine and calling the others Washington, Franklin, Rousseau, Petrarch and Volney.”
I mean, really, I have seen nothing in the Irish Times to rival this one. I hope that they were all boys.
My sister is just back from another couple of weeks in the Gulf. She tells me that she couldn’t take a shower in her apartment complex because the cold water was coming from outside. And, as it was 52 degrees outside, the cold water was quite a lot warmer than the hot water. And she was there for the hottest day in Doha in 40 years. Lovely.
This inspired my mother-in-law to tell me a story about her friend who lives in the Gulf and who can’t use her swimming pool most of the year as the water is too hot and they can’t afford the expensive mechanism to cool it down.
Other little snapshots from the Gulf, my sister visited a shopping centre where there are canals and gondolas, she saw a woman in a burka eating spaghetti and she visited the local Pain Quotidien where she picked up some Belgian chocolate spread for me. Odd, very odd.
Daniel: Is the Government a person?
Me: No, sweetheart, it’s a group of people who run the country and decide what to spend our money on.
Daniel: What do they spend our money on?
Me: Well, hospitals, roads…
Daniel: Traffic lights?
Me: Yes traffic lights and… schools and teachers..
Michael: I hate my teacher.
Me: Well, Michael, what do you think that the Government should spend our money on?
Michael: They should give it to the shops so that I can get a computer for me.
Me: Well, they give money to schools so that everyone can have computers in schools.
Michael: There’s no computer in my classroom.
Mr. Waffle: But next year when you go to the classroom next door you’ll have a computer in the classroom.
Michael (starting to wail): But that computer is BROKEN.
Mr. Waffle: Well, but Michael the Government has lots of things to spend money on and there isn’t enough money and they have to decide what would be the best way to spend the money they have.
Michael (mutinously): I think the best thing would be to buy a computer for me.
Me (mentally searching for what Michael might deem worthy expenditure and rejecting all school related costs): Well, Michael, there are sick children in hospitals who need medicine and machines to make them better and the Government is spending money on that so it can’t afford your computer.
Michael (crying): The sick children are taking my computer.
Mr. Waffle: That went well.
Me: Michael is clearly a believer in big government.
Michael is going to be honing his pre-budget submission tomorrow morning. Unfortunately, as he can’t write, it will have to be a picture coloured in crayon.
Like a lot of the internet, I pasted some text into this box so that it would tell me who I write like. I appreciate that these things are not very accurate but would you say my description of our holiday below reminds you in any way of “The Godfather”? Off you trot to investigate yourself, you know you want to.
Why is it that no one has relatives who die any more?
People have “loved ones who have passed away” instead.
I heard a daft drama on Radio 4 which was set in World War II. Our heroine was in danger of losing her “loved one”. Really, was that usage common, in 1942? Speaking of one of the other characters she wondered: “What does he bring to the table?” What indeed, we will have to see, going forward.
If you would like to mention your pet irritations in the comments, feel free.
I have a colleague who is a pleasant, down to earth woman from the west of Ireland. She is in her mid 50s and has nice clothes, pearls, grown-up daughters and her husband is an accountant. Her name is Mary. Are you getting a picture here?
This morning she got the following text message:
Thanks for another great night in bed Ann.
To which she promptly replied:
I am glad to hear that you had a great night in bed with Ann but I suggest that you tell her rather than a complete stranger. You might also ask Ann for her telephone number.