I was 56 last month which is a surprise to me. I took the day off work. Mr. Waffle, sadly, was stuck at work on the day of my birthday but the previous day we had gone out for an adventure to Carlingford which is always nice. There is a new greenway around the edge of the bay. It’s a shared pedestrian/cycling space and on this beautiful day, it was lovely to see so many families out and about but it did not make for an exactly speedy cycling experience.
I was surprised just how close Warrenpoint across the water was. I always thought it was a bit further away. I also didn’t realise how industrial it is. To the left of the photo below is a lot less appealing.
The route goes as far as Narrow Water Keep. For years, I’ve been hearing about the progress of the Narrow Water bridge which will link Carlingford (Republic of Ireland) with Warrenpoint (Northern Ireland) across the water. In my mind’s eye, I saw it as an enormous bridge requiring huge engineering works but honestly having seen the distance, I half think I could throw it up myself. Whatever is delaying it, I can’t imagine that it’s engineering problems. If you look closely at the (not great) picture below you will see the keep which was tantalisingly close across the water.
Mr. Waffle found the greenway a bit cabined, cribbed, confined but I quite liked it. In fact it was all very pleasant except for the signs that said, “Cooley peninsula says no to the Greenway” which made me feel that we were not entirely welcome.
There was also a house with a Trump flag flying. I have to say I have not seen one of those in Ireland before.
Undeterred by my cycling adventure the previous day, on my birthday I took myself off to the southern seaside suburbs for another cycle. Here is your correspondent on Killiney beach. They say Killiney Bay is like the Bay of Naples. Honestly, it’s all very nice but it’s no Bay of Naples.
Herself called me and we had a long and quite delightful chat on the phone as I cycled along. She was on video call and I had her in my handbag in my basket and she said that she felt like a small dog as she peered out the top.
I got presents, I got cake, I had a day off, the sun shone. All in all a pretty satisfactory birthday.
I had gone down to Cork a bit before the big day to have a birthday dinner with my brother and sister (more presents, thank you, I don’t mind if I do). That was nice but I found Cork a bit depressed; a lot of closed shops and Patrick Street down at heel. I hope that this is not a portent of things to come in the new world trade dispensation. My sister found a picture of my father on his graduation in 1949. Taking it all very seriously, clearly.
My brother and sister got me Blue Book vouchers. If you ever want to stay somewhere in Ireland, North or South, I strongly recommend a Blue Book venue (not always super pricey, particularly north of the border, but always, always lovely). My sister also got me a bird feeder and I have reached an age where I was genuinely thrilled. So far the birds haven’t been as interested as I would like and the tableau below may tell you all you need to know.
At my great age, I decided no harm to go for a pre-birthday check up with the GP. I was fine. On the advice of a friend, I asked her to send me for a Dexa scan. It checks bone density. Since both my mother and maternal grandmother had osteoporosis, I feared the worst. But I am perfect. I have often lamented that in dimensions I take after my paternal grandmother’s family (round and low to the ground) but I tell you what they were all healthy and lived forever and I have reached an age where I am no longer quite as keen to be tall and willowy (still somewhat keen though, I cannot lie) and very keen to remain healthy; so I am pleased that I appear to be like them on the inside as well as the outside.
Playing tennis recently I injured myself and have taken a couple of weeks off tennis going around like hop a long Cassidy. I diagnosed my injury with the help of google (as recommended by all professionals, ahem) as Achilles tendonitis. The Mayo Clinic was almost insultingly accurate in describing my problem “It’s also common in middle-aged people who play sports, such as tennis …only on the weekends”. Fine. I’ve been asking around and so many people I know have had it that I am sure I am right. However, you will be pleased to hear that if I am not fully recovered next week, I will, sigh, make an appointment with the physio. It’s a weird injury in that it only hurts when walking. I completely forget about it when I sit down and get a mild shock every time I start walking which, I have discovered, is hardly ever. I thought I was always hopping up from my desk for various reasons. Not so, in fact. This is not an entirely welcome discovery.
Celebrating any birthdays yourself?