When you receive an array of exciting presents and you are, quite genuinely, absolutely delighted with a floral magnetic shopping list that you can stick on the fridge.
Siblings
Rehearsing Old Arguments with People too Busy Skiing to Care
When we were teenagers, my brother and I fought all the time. We must have driven my poor parents insane. One of our biggest bones of contention was washing-up. For many years, my mother resisted the introduction of a dishwasher to our family home on the grounds that her sisters-in-law were against them. Like many of the better examples of modern technology, it was only introduced after I left home. I digress.
I cannot sit comfortably in the knowledge that the dishes await my attention next door. My brother could sit comfortably in this knowledge indefinitely. So, I was always at him to get up and get on with it. And he always said that he would, in time. But by the time he had finished drying a plate my sister and I would have done everything else around him. Or worse, he would breeze in at the end of our labours and claim credit for doing the work based on a paltry contribution of 2 minutes’ work. He and I used to row like blazes about this (my sister just kept working with her head down).
His argument was that I was obsessive about cleaning and, anyhow, I liked washing up. For him, he argued, it was all sacrifice but for me, it was satisfying. This used to drive me to the edge of reason (a spectacle he always enjoyed).
The other day the Princess and I went to her room and cleared out her “make and do” box. This was a bulging cesspit of random (loosely) craft related material which squatted ominously in the corner of her room. We shrunk it, we re-organised it. And it gives me a warm inner glow; even after several days. Isn’t it annoying the way siblings have insights into your character that elude you until you are middle aged?
But, just so we’re clear here, I’d still rather have sat on the sofa and had someone do it for me.
Where is my Willpower?
Sometimes I stay up late into the night surfing the internet. My almost famous connection (give it time – also, buy her book) put up a blog post about make-up wherein she said “I’ve just spent about 45 minutes watching make-up videos by Lisa Eldridge”. “Ha,” I thought to myself “well I might as well have a quick look at this before I go to bed as there is no way I would spend 45 minutes looking at a make-up video.” Bear in mind that I last bought something for my make-up bag in the 1990s. It’s not that I don’t wear make-up, it’s just that I take my sister’s free gifts from her amazingly extensive collection. But yet, I found Ms. Eldridge strangely compelling and 45 minutes later (at 3.45 am, alas), I finally tore myself away from her advice and found myself contemplating my first make up purchase since 1995.
It’s going to be a clinique airbrush; I thought you would like to know.
He was Born to be the Child of a Billionaire
You may recall that my brother had a three month holiday in the Americas in late 2011. Then earlier this month, he departed for a month’s skiing in Chamonix. It was cheaper to buy skis for four weeks than to hire them. And it was cheaper to get a season pass than four weekly passes. So now that he has his season pass and his skis, he’s decided that he should stay for an extra fortnight. So that he can get value from his skis and season pass. I’m not bitter.
Oh yeah, here’s what he says about the trip so far:
Hi folks, all’s well in Chamonix, el cuerpo demanded a day off skiing after 8 days today. I have had an absolutely brilliant time, but the one slightly disconcerting thing about skiing is that the better you get at skiing the more you realise how bad you are at it. When I started I used to think I’d be as good as the locals in no time, ignorance is bliss, like being so far behind in a race that that you think you’re winning.
At this stage I can do all the pistes comfortably if not stylishly, off piste on the other hand feels like seconds from disaster all the time………. had some fairly spectacular wipe outs during my off piste lesson on Saturday, but made progress in a crash and learn type of way, (at one stage I was thinking ‘go mberimid beo ar an am seo amarach’), needless to say Mum just in case you’re worried the only thing I’m in danger of injuring is my ego. The problem with off piste is you have to be light and agile: my 85kg frame and public sector union flexibility are not helping matters. Still I’m hoping to be an all mountain skier by the end of this junket. Speaking of which I decided to push out my return date by a further 2 weeks, in my own head I managed to spin this as a money saving decision, I bought the skies and have a season pass so it would be a waste not to get more use from them, right????The weather when I arrived was unbelievably cold -25 or something; it was like spending the day in the freezer at home next to the peas from 1993. After my first day skiing my designer stubble was frozen white and I looked bit like one of the guys from those photos of the Scott expedition. Next day I got a Balaclava and end up looking more like an IRA man than an Antarctic explorer, but didn’t need to be thawed out. This week has seen the temp pick up, the blue skies and spectacular scenary have made the place much more like a holiday brochure. As for French, the other objective of the trip which hasn’t received much coverage in the mail, I think I’m starting to get it back a bit of it back, more updates to follow. Anyway have to sign off now and get some sleep as it’s been snowing today and tomorrow is going to be a brilliant days skiing.
Enjoying the Recession
My brother took a redundancy package from his job last year. They gave him a good package and he has no personal debt. He spent the last three months of 2011 travelling around the US and central America and pitched up in Cork at Christmas.
Over the holidays, he was muttering darkly about having to spend “upskilling and retraining funds” his company had given him as part of his package. In my mind’s eye, I think I saw him doing a diploma in accountancy. I understand that he has suggested to the company and they have approved that he should spend 3 weeks in February in Chamonix improving his French. I am speechless with envy tinged with reluctant admiration.
Dialogue – Christmas in Cork
Michael: Hello Auntie Helen!
Her: Michael – it’s six in the morning.
Him: Do you want a cuddle?
Her: I like my personal space.
