And finally, for my last trick, I have to describe the weekend of the street party. As Mr. Waffle said, for this to be a success there would have to be four fine Sundays in a row. We did not have four fine Sundays in a row. This mattered surprisingly little. And you know, the sense of obligation to get out and do something in the [limited supply of] sunshine is very tiring.
The children played soccer in the street for hours [Daniel, who had played a GAA match that morning and got a medal for his participation in the mini-league along with a bag and a wristband and cap, spent, by my calculation, seven hours that Sunday running after a ball]. The grown-ups resigned themselves to the weather and ate from the really excellent selection of food on offer. There was bunting. It was good. It would be great all the same if, just one year, it didn’t rain on the street party.
