Dinner

I had dinner last night with two friends from college, both of them Cork exiles in Dublin like myself.

Two of us are orphans and the third has both parents in very good nick. They’re in their late 80s/early 90s. Her father is an accountant and still goes into work every day. He announced to her at the start of this month that he’d have to be better prepared for year end next year as there had been quite a few late nights at the end of October. They’re both still sharp as tacks and very resistant to any interference.

My friend’s suggestion that her mother, who likes to go for a nice long walk every day without her phone, might consider a personal alarm device was met with contempt: “I’ve been walking all my life, why would I not be able to do it now?” My friend has thoughts. Her offer to go to the supermarket when recently in Cork was met with a certain froideur: you wouldn’t know what to buy. Stung, she said “I actually have quite a responsible job up in Dublin, I think I can manage a trip to Dunne’s”. She can think away as far as her mother is concerned. We two orphans smiled indulgently.

We had a great gossip and catch-up. Two of us had firm views on a building project planned by a mutual acquaintance; the third said “Sure, let them at it, it’s not doing you any harm.” This kind of live and let live non-judgmental approach is what makes her so charming but we did wonder whether she was really from Cork at all.

And bringing us right up to the minute, my tennis has again been cancelled due to freezing weather. This is not at all the kind of approach favoured by the GAA which as far as I can recall has never cancelled training regardless of the weather. How are we ever going to dominate in world tennis with this feeble approach. Nevertheless, I am delighted. I’ve just lit a fire and a peaceful evening at home beckons. As I was lighting the fire using, inter alia, an old newspaper, I found myself wondering whether future generations will ever do this. Both the open fire and the printed newspaper seem to be on their way out.