O my dearest friend
Let not thy vengeful ghost
Haunt those thoughts we shared together, you and I,
For thou art not
And I alone must seek solace with another.
Anyone for “I breathe Byron”?
O my dearest friend
Let not thy vengeful ghost
Haunt those thoughts we shared together, you and I,
For thou art not
And I alone must seek solace with another.
Anyone for “I breathe Byron”?
The other morning the Princess was having her porridge and playing with her letters. We put them all into their slots but, horror, the z was missing. “Mummy, mummy, missing z!” “Well, never mind, sweetie, it’ll turn up.” Sad shake of the royal head “Z lost mummy, find the z mummy.” Off we went, z-less, to the creche and work respectively and, on our return home the Princess skipped off to her toys. Almost immediately she ran over to me shrieking in delight “Mummy, I find the missing z” and waving the lost z enthusiastically. Our genius.
Sitting in the back of the car with her menagerie, the Princess picks up a soft toy and holds it up to the window “Look, Sheepsie, a blue van”. Anxious to ensure fairness in all things, she then picks up a bear and presses its little nose to the window “Oh, Isabelle, a tram, look, look”. Finally, she waves doggy in the direction of the window “Doggy, see, lots of cars”
This email from a friend:
Thought of you the other day when reading about Noel Coward – he met a friend at a party – “we don’t have time to talk about each of us so we’ll just talk about me”
My parents’ heating has died. They have been cold for a week. It is snowing in Cork. Four men have already shaken their heads at
the parental boiler. They’re getting a blow heater and a draft proof front door tomorrow.
on 25 February 2005 at 17:11
No problem there on equality and distributed love!
Your friend is cruel.
Poor parents. A heating system that doesn’t is among life’s greatest find something to kick incentives.
on 05 March 2005 at 15:03
Well, pog, she has time.
JD, well, yes, cruel but not, I confess, entirely inaccurate.
More complex anecdotes from my brother’s skiing holiday. He managed to annoy his instructor by getting into some mild difficulty on the chairlift. I am not quite sure how this happened but he placed himself so that the instructor ended up sitting on his lap and had to jump off the lift from a height. Apparently this had never happened to the ski instructor before in 20 years instructing. How empty his life must have been.
It appears that the ski instructor was a bit of a rough character and he started telling his class racist jokes. My brother said to me “I didn’t know where to look”. I was a bit surprised by this, because my brother is a bit of a lad and I would have thought that hearing racist jokes would have formed part of his past experience. But this is not all. My brother decided that something would have to be done and that night while buying drinks at the bar, he said to the ski instructor “You know man [favourite word of my brother’s – it works very well in a Cork accent], you can’t tell those racist jokes”. Gobsmacked, I asked “what did he say?” “Well” said my brother ” I thought he might be a bit annoyed but in fact he said – yeah, I suppose you’re right”. And that, apparently, was that. No more racist jokes for the week. I am quite proud of my laddish brother. Whereas I, bleeding heart liberal that I am, would have been appalled but never had the nerve to say anything.
on 21 February 2005 at 16:54
Re your sister: I worry less about her than I do Cher. With all her silicon bits, I wouldn’t think she would need anyone’s support.
Re your brother’s skilift incident: I tried that once with my English teacher. She saw right through it.
This from Thierry about Dr. Rice’s visit
You will recall that Mr. Bush is coming to us next week. The Economist summarises matters nicely with this week’s cover :
Meanwhile, they’re sealing all the rubbish bins in the European quarter.
on 20 February 2005 at 15:50
Seen Doogle.. it’s a few of the Trinity CS crew that are behind it 🙂
The heads-up on The Suit and The Shades is excellent; thanks!
I realised today though, that other people may not be as aware of the issues in contemporary Ireland as I am. I was chatting to this
very nice and very young Welsh woman and she asked where I was from and I explained that I was from Cork and that Cork was Ireland’s second city. I talked a bit about our fierce independence and our chip on the shoulder about Dublin and all its works. I told her how,
when I first met my husband, I was living in Brussels and I told my mother I had met a nice man. And my mother said “not a foreigner,
I hope” (she was terrified that if I married some foreigner, I would stay away from Ireland forever, which is a little ironic in the circumstances, but I digress). And I said “no, no”. And she said “ah, he’s from Cork”. I smiled winningly at Ms. Wales and said “you see, Cork people regard themselves as an independent nation really”
My Welsh companion pondered this for a moment and asked “so she was upset because you’re a catholic and he’s a protestant?”
on 17 February 2005 at 12:29
I had no idea you were Irish. I’ll have to start reading this blog with an Irish accent.
Your explaining made perfect sense to me. I think your Welsh friend was perhaps just a little slow that day.
on 17 February 2005 at 22:30
Funky, talented, a touch of class when it come to wordsmithing, laconic and worldly-wise.
What do you mean you had no idea she was Irish?
on 20 February 2005 at 15:21
Jack, quite. Cookie, not an Irish accent but a Cork accent (i.e. at high speed and half an octave higher than anyone else in Ireland). What can I say Jack, you’re always right. Um, yes pog, you too.
on 04 April 2005 at 14:19
WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU ON ABOUT
on 04 April 2005 at 15:28
(
Comment Modified) Perhaps Lilite lacks the local knowledge to understand the entry? Which if taken out of context could prove pretty weird…
And also the patience to do the required joined up thinking.
on 05 April 2005 at 08:39
Lilite, couldn’t face explaining again, you’ll just have to visit Cork or ask pog, she seems to have a good grasp of things Irish. Jack, I guess you’re right, oh well.
on 05 April 2005 at 10:07
Oh ….. I wish ….
(Hang on a minute – I think I may have slightly misunderstood what you meant by ‘grasp’. Ahem.)
on 06 April 2005 at 10:04
He’s protesting rather a lot, don’t you think, waffle? You’d think a man in a filthy tee-shirt would be flattered …..