When I was in lovely Shrewsbury earlier in the year, I bought a Folio edition of “The Stones of Venice” by John Ruskin for neighbours who are 50 years married this week. They travel to Venice a lot and he did his PhD on some church there (shamefully I have forgotten which one). They are going to Venice on Thursday for their anniversary so I handed over my book with a feeling of inner smugness. They invited us in for a cup of tea and put the present to one side. We went home and 10 minutes later they turned up on the doorstep having opened the present and they were absolutely delighted. It was so gratifying. Is there a nicer sensation than knowing you have got a great present?
Dublin
Snow!
I woke up on Friday morning to snow. The excitement. The boys had already cycled to school. “Didn’t you offer them a lift?” I said to Mr. Waffle. He pointed out that I was in bed (not typical though I would very much like it to be) and it was only “heavy frost”, not snow.
I cycled into the park to have a look at the “heavy frost”. You be the judge here.
Between my sore knee and the icy conditions, being in the park was really reminiscent of skiing.
That afternoon, I took the car out to collect post from the local sorting office. It was cold and I wanted to get turf on the way home so I felt somewhat less bad about taking the car. My local sorting office is in a black hole and I always get lost on the way there. I inadvertently went up a cul de sac where a small child was playing in the snow (heavy frost whatever you’re having yourself) in front of his gate. I turned extremely slowly and carefully. But as I turned my enormous monstrosity which did not slip in the snow, everyone will be glad to hear, I couldn’t help thinking that there would be no danger of my taking out a small child if I had just taken the bike. But then how would I have brought home my turf? Is it madness to think of buying one of those electric cargo bikes?
If you’re thinking it would be more environmentally friendly not to have a turf powered open fire you would be completely right but as someone who finally turned on the Aga the same day, I’m probably beyond reason. God, it is nice and cozy in the cold weather.
Over the weekend we had the lighting up ceremony on the road. We all put out lights in the gardens and then turn them on. Kind humanitarians supply mulled wine and mince pies. It was very pleasant though cold. I used to hate outdoor Christmas decorations but now I love them. Driving to collect the children from school (they got a lift in yesterday, do you think I’m a monster?) , I truly enjoyed some of the more exuberant offerings of our neighbours.
And then we put up our tree last night.
And herself is coming home tomorrow after her trip to Berlin to visit a school friend. Hurrah! Here she is in the Alexanderplatz last night channelling her inner babushka.
Knee Progress
Still quite sore. I am finding my home made weights a bit inconvenient but not ineffective. I thought you would like to know.
Alas, alack
I went to the physio this morning. She used to be up the road but is now miles away. I cycled 20kms again today to get there and back. I am exhausted.
Anyhow, she poked at my knee and pronounced that I had a tear in my meniscus. It used to be called a “wear and tear†injury apparently. She didn’t seem too perturbed. She gave me some very mild exercises to do and said that my quads are particularly feeble. Great, thanks. “Do I regularly do squats and lunges?†I mean, obviously not, we both know this. Do I have leg weights that I can attach to my ankles? Of course I don’t. I will be taping bags of rice to myself as a practical alternative.
She thinks it will be better in 6-8 weeks and I am to go back to her in a fortnight. Dr. Google is much less sanguine but I am ignoring him as much as I can.
She says to keep cycling and walking so that’s something, I suppose.
Stuff
You will recall that I am unwilling to let my parents’ large enough collection of Cork Historical and Archaeological annual journals go to a secondhand bookshop. I am equally unwilling to give them house room here. My sister emailed me yesterday to say that the society are willing to take the journals back. They will even collect them. They have even thanked her for donating them. A thrill.
Meanwhile, in other news, I have spent the afternoon taking apart an old fence which has been awaiting my attention in the shed for some time. I escaped almost entirely unscathed although – in quite a dramatic development – a large and rusty nail attempted to pierce me in the neck as I tried to bend back the boards. Also good, on balance.
I met a friend with sciatica this morning and we had a cup of tea and then limped around the block – me with my knee and her with her hip. Is this how it’s going to be from now on? This is not the vision of being in my 50s that Hollywood has led me to expect.
Aaargh
My brother decided to go to Tenerife for Christmas last year. On balance, I decided that on the first Christmas since our father died, it would not be great to leave my sister to celebrate Christmas alone with our elderly aunt (aunt is not really transportable so her Christmas has to be in Cork). We went to Cork en masse. It was pretty successful from our point of view but I would concede that it was a bit of a squash and a squeeze and, of course, my poor sister had loads of work to do as hostess.
Last year, my brother suggested putting my aunt in respite and having my sister come to Dublin. At the time, I thought it was an appalling and callous suggestion but, I have to say, now I am slightly more amenable. My brother is going away for Christmas again (Annecy, thanks for asking) and my sister has said, firmly but politely, that she’d prefer us to come to Cork after Christmas rather than for Christmas and that she doesn’t want my aunt to go into respite. I wanted to see her face to face for this to make sure that she meant it. I saw her last week, she meant it. We’re going to go down on the 27th.
Meanwhile my sister-in-law in Dublin had asked what our plans were and kindly offered to host us for Christmas day. At the time, I said that I was unsure but that we would probably be in Cork. I met my sister-in-law for lunch today and as agenda item 1, I was keen to share our Christmas news. Imagine my horror when she led with the news that, after some initial reluctance to go away for Christmas, she had taken up her brother’s invitation to spend the day in Wexford with him and his family. We both gasped on receipt of each other’s news, but sure here we are. We have agreed that we will go to their house for a family get together on St. Stephen’s Day which will be nice but not the same.
My other sister-in-law and her little family are staying in London which I totally understand.
So, in summary, I will be cooking Christmas dinner for just the five of us (possibly for the first time ever?). A change is as good as a rest, I guess.
