And the new year begins with technical problems. Why does the (long, long) post I published yesterday keep disappearing? Who knows, who can say, anyone for the last few choc ices there*?
*Niche, for Christy Moore fans only.
Archives for January 2024
There and Back Again
Herself returned from London yesterday after a busy 36 hours.
She was up at 6 on New Year’s Eve. She took the ferry to Holyhead; then the train to Crewe; then caught the London train. Then when she got to London, it was still too early to go to her party; she had to get the early ferry because the later one would not have made the London train. She considered visiting her aunt, uncle and cousin but London is so vast that she felt that she would only have arrived and then she would have to turn around again. So she went to a three hour film about Mrs. Tchaikovsky (in Russian, naturally) and at the end it turned out that it was all made up. She now arguably knows less about Mrs. Tchaikovsky than when she started and she was still early for her New Year’s Eve party.
I am happy to report that the party was a great success.
At 2 in the morning the airline notified her that her 9.30 am flight home was cancelled and she eventually got home at 7.30 in the evening.
All I can say is that it’s good that the party was enjoyable, but I can think of literally NO entertainment which would make me go through that. Insert your own thoughts about the fortitude of youth here.
Epic or Tips for the Tourist
Mr Waffle and I went the Irish museum of emigration today. No real things and all audiovisual interactive stuff. Fine, I suppose and we’re probably not the target audience – there were a lot of things we knew already – but I thought €23 a head was pretty pricey to get in. The man on the desk said it gives you re-entry any time over the next ten days but I really feel no one is likely to do that.
I imagine if you are from abroad and have Irish roots, it might be interesting. But really, I would recommend saving your money and going to check out the national art collections in Dublin to which admission is free.
A Grand Day Out
It stopped raining today for, honestly, what feels like the first time since the Christmas holidays started. Today is my last day of holidays and I am so glad that I was not at my desk. Mr. Waffle and I climbed the Sugar Loaf. Back to the grindstone tomorrow.
Epiphany
Today is called Women’s Christmas or Little Christmas in this part of the world and the idea is that the women who spent so much work on all of the main Christmas celebrations would get a day off.
I have enjoyed a day off other than wrestling with hanging a picture for Michael. These Christmas presents can present their own challenges, can’t they? A moment of diversion was caused by Michael knowing the names for all the tools in Irish – one year of woodwork in school – but not in English – no DIY experience at home then.
Meanwhile poor Mr. Waffle has just returned from a Saturday of toil at the office. Understandably he is unfilled with seasonal joy but he has just had a cup of tea and a mince pie so surely things are improving?
Tonight we’re out to dinner for my sister-in-law’s 50th birthday, let us hope that this will cheer us all up, including the children who will get pizza. Well, in fact, who knows what herself will have as she is, once more, back in England to spend the weekend with friends (a carbon footprint as big as the Ritz). She’s back on Sunday night for a meeting in Dublin on Tuesday and then she is definitively back to England until April where she will be studying like a demon for her finals. Would she welcome a visit during that time? Possibly not. Might I visit anyway? Well, I’m not totally ruling it out.
Goodbye to All That
Michael drove myself and Mr. Waffle to the Botanic Gardens this afternoon. An unnerving trip but really only because I am lily livered, Michael’s driving was fine.
The Botanic Gardens currently have a light installation (available only after dark) and the overall effect is…peculiar even by daylight
It was the first really cold day this winter and the pond in the Gardens was frozen to the unholy delight of a number of small children. Having had a restorative cup of tea, Michael drove us home again without incident.
Nobody was delighted but everybody helped to take down the the Christmas decorations when we got home. Always a slightly melancholy duty but then the house looks so much bigger without all the extra stuff. I considered throwing out the Holly Bough (Cork’s finest Christmas publication) but will preserve it in the hope of getting into its photograph pages next year. I had thought they put in every photograph they got (Cork people in different places, the more exotic the better, holding a copy of the Holly Bough). This appears not to be the case as a – beautifully composed etc. – photo of myself, my brother and sister in front of Lake Annecy did not qualify for publication. You can only imagine my disappointment when , hands trembling, I made my way to the photos page and we were not there. I wish I’d remembered to take it to Argentina. Oh well, we’ll try again next year, I suppose. Stay tuned for better news next December.
