Thursday, July 19
We went on our annual pilgrimage to Leahy’s Fun Farm. It didn’t let us down. As ever, the tractors at the entrance were a huge, though to my mind, mildly mystifying, attraction:
There were encounters with animals which Michael didn’t bother with on the basis that he had a packet of crisps which he would rather eat:
It’s not cheap and it’s not slick but if you have children, I cannot recommend this place highly enough.
Friday, July 20
We went swimming first thing in the morning and despite how lovely it looked, it was freezing. There was a reason the beach was deserted.
The boys were keen to participate in Bible Camp which worked out very well as my mother and brother came down to visit. We all went out for lunch, then the boys peeled off to play soccer and learn verses of the bible in the care of large numbers of young adults who will certainly go to heaven for their virtue in running this thing during their holidays. My mother and I went for a stroll and my brother and herself contemplated the water.
Despite having been frozen earlier in the morning and not having her togs with her, she ventured in:
My mother and I volunteered to go back to the house to get towels. But we were slow and just as we were leaving the house, she came dripping up in her soaking clothes and said bitterly, “Where were you? I was just about to call Childline.”
Still, all in all, a huge success and another fine day making this undoubtedly, the best week of the Irish summer so far.
Still more to come. Nearly there now though. Tune in tomorrow when Mr. Waffle returns from the big smoke.
