Thanks!

Don't you just love when you get a hand written 'thank you' note?  Here's one I got this week.  It now has pride of place on the Christmas Card tree.

And don't you just love a hand written thank you note even more when it's attached to a box of biscuits?  Yum!!

And don't you just love when there is nobody else in the house and you can open the box and eat all the one's you like before anybody else gets to choose!!

I'm off to put the kettle on before anybody comes home...

In stitches!

After a first and very successful trip this year, I decided to go again a second time.  No, I didn't go back to London, Spain, Cork, Derry, Wexford  or any of the other lovely places I have visited this year,

No, I went back to A & E!

And while I was there and because I've never had stitches before, I decided to try them this time!

Last night while the dinner was cooking in the oven, I thought I'd do something constructive with my time and set about cleaning out the fridge and freezer to make space for all the stuff that's going to fill them over Christmas.

Cleaning the fridge went well, in case your interested!  It was the freezer that did the damage.

I found some interesting things in the freezer, things I don't remember putting in there.  One of these items of mystery was a pie in a ceramic dish, which my mother had very kindly made for Kevin and put in the freezer while I was out.  Hence the mystery.  While trying to figure out what it was, I dropped it and the bowl smashed and sliced my finger.

Lovely!

Luckily Kevin was here and drove me to the clinic where I was looked after very well by a very kind nurse and then stitched back together by a very nice doctor.  The nurse asked me had I taken any pain killers and when I said no, she asked me would I like some.  So I said, yes please, something white, on the dry side and preferably with bubbles...

Anyway, I'm now the proud owner of a stitched bandaged finger, which I can't get wet for two days and which the stitches have to stay in, for seven.

That means that my cooking and cleaning is severely curtailed for the next few days.  So if your coming to my house for Christmas, there will be cobwebs and no mince pies!

When I got home from the clinic, despite having remembered to turn it off before I went out, the dinner was burnt in the oven.  And, the stuff I took out of the freezer, was happily defrosting all over the utility room floor.

But, there is a happy ending.

I do have one good working hand and (because it's Christmas) several bottles of those pain killers that I mentioned to the nurse.  And as I can do nothing else, I might as well open one....

Cheers!

Practicing.

My first attempt at baking Christmas shortbread.

Not too bad, even if I say so myself. 

Although I don't think they would pass the Mary Berry test!  The uniform size and shape test that is.  She's very fussy about that sort of thing.  Lucky my family aren't as fussy as Mary.  

I think they pass the taste test though.  I just had one (??) with a cup of coffee and they were lovely, still warm out of the oven.  Might have to try another one when they cool down, just to be sure.

Now I just have to practice making the raspberry fool to go with them...

Top 'o the morning...

My brother posted this on Facebook this morning.

A leprechaun Nativity set.



I asked him to order one for me.  Sure what more could you want... begorra!


PS.  Just so you know, it's only available in an American Irish Gifts catalog, so don't be jealous if I'm the only one with one this Christmas.

Is it ever too early?

I know it's a bit early, but here's the first batch of mince pies this year!

I had the mince meat made (try saying that quickly!) since last year sealed in an airtight jar and hidden away in the back of a cupboard.  So it had to come out to be tested.  It smelt very good, mostly of brandy, but good!  But the real test would be in the baking.  If it wasn't right then a new batch would have to be made for this year.

Hot out of the oven they tasted fine to me, but I wasn't sure if I could trust my own taste buds.

Luckily just as they came out of the oven, as if by magic, a very experienced 'taster' arrived.  His mince pie radar was working well.

I'm still not quite sure what the verdict was, but there was lot's of 'oohing' and 'ahaing' and some Homer type drooling sounds being emitted during consumption.  All he said when he was finished was, with a little grin:  "How many of them did you make?"

He went home with a couple in his pocket.  I'm not sure they made it round the corner....

Women in action.

Unless you've been living in a cave, or are not Irish, or you're Irish and living in a cave, you will know that next year we celebrate the 100 year anniversary of the Easter Rising.

So!

I've been off work for the past couple of days.  Doing some research!  It was like a bus mans holiday for me as I'm 'researching' every day.  But it wasn't car specs I was researching this week.

No, something much more interesting!

My cousin Lorraine, the artist (and before you Brennan's reading this think we have suddenly found some talent in the family, forget it, she's on the other side of the family), is hoping to be featured in an exhibition to take place in Limerick next year entitled 'Still the Barbarians'.  Her brief for the exhibition is to focus on 'Women in the Rising'.

As I had a few days holidays to take, I volunteered (sorry!) to help her with her research.

Now, before I go any further, I have to say that in all honesty, I didn't know very much about the women involved in this historic event.  The only woman I remember learning about in school was Countess Markievicz.   There are a couple of other women whom recently I've become aware of.  Rosie Hackett for one, as  a new bridge was opened in Dublin and named after her for all her efforts in the Rising and her work she did for women's rights.  And by a strange co-incidence my Dad had recently given me a booklet with Nurse Elizabeth O'Farrell written account of the surrender and the part she played in it. But up to last weekend, I hadn't read it....

Anyway, the best place to start was where all the action took place, so we headed off into town.  And here we are doing some very important research, which involved eating lunch and drinking coffee in the sunshine, on the Boardwalk, beside the Liffy.  Well it was too nice a day to be in a stuffy old Library, reading.

OK, it wasn't all eating and drinking as we did eventually do some constructive work.  And here is the woman herself in action.

She's filming the Rosie Hacket bridge.

I don't understand most art, and in case you are worried about Lorraine reading this and being upset, it's OK, I've had this conversation with her.  Apparently you don't have to understand Art, you can just like what you like and leave it at that.  Just as well, cos I have no idea what she is doing here at the bridge.  She's not so sure that she has either, but it's all part of the bigger picture that we will just have to wait and see!

It wasn't all just wandering around Dublin in the sunshine.  We did do some real work too.  We checked out all the women involved to see what we could come up with on each of them, as Lorraine is looking for something, 'a hook' she called it, or 'an in' to have as a focal point for her exhibit.

We didn't come up with anything definite that she could use in the short time that we had, but we did come across some very interesting facts about these women, over 100 of them, that fought side by side with the men...

Margaret Skinnider for example. She was from Scotland, but had Irish parents, and on a trip to Ireland prior to the Rising she smuggled in bomb detonators, in her hat!  During the Rising she was a scout, despatch-rider and sniper!  She tells hair raising stories of cycling past the Shelbourne Hotel with bullets striking the wooden wheels of her bicycle as she rode by and the only thing that save her was the speed that she went at!  (Eat your heart out Sandra Bullock, you only had to drive a bus!)

Then there was Rose McNamara, officer in command of the female battalion who insisted that the women surrender alongside the men when they could easily have evaded arrest.  Well, equality was part of the Cumann na mBan's (The Irishwomens Council) constitution!  Ms McNamara marched her women, four deep, in uniform, to the British commanding officer and explained that they were part of the rebel contingent and were surrendering, and would be with the men to the end, whatever their fate would be.  Go Ms McNamara!!

Helena Molony, actress and journalist, smuggled guns into Ireland for the Rising.  In her witness account she writes:  I had an Irish tweed costume, with a Sam Browne belt and I had my own revolver and my own ammunition!  Sure what more could a girl want...

Elizabeth O Farrell's account the days before during and after the surrender makes fascinating reading.  I'm not going to write it all here, you can look it up for yourself, but she was some woman.  She was chosen to bring the notice of surrender to the British and also to all the volunteer garrisons around the city.  She stood up to the British officers and never backed down.  Despite assurances by the British commanding officer that she wouldn't be arrested, eventually she was.  Upon her arrest she was placed in a room with eleven other women, just in time for dinner!  In her account she states that her contribution to the meal was a barm brack, an apple and some sweets which she produced from her skirts.  (I'm wearing skinny jeans, I can barley fit me into them, never mind dinner, and I'm not sure anybody would want to eat dinner if I'd been carrying it round all day...) What a woman, she spent all day going back and forward between rebel strongholds, tending to wounded men, navigating endless road blocks, negotiating with officers, and after that day's work, she was still able to produce dinner.

We best not forget Rosie Hackett.  She co-founded the Irish Womens Workers Union and was involved in the lockout in 1913.  She, having also trained as a printer, helped to print the Proclamation of the Irish Republic.  My favorite story about Rosie was on the anniversary of James Connolly death (he was executed by the British!) she hung a banner from Liberty Hall stating that it was a year since his murder.  The police quickly removed the banner.  But not to be deterred, Rosie and three female accomplices climbed onto the roof of Liberty Hall nailed the doors shut and rehung the banner.  They stayed there all day with it.  She later bragged that it took 400 policemen to take down four women and she was delighted by all the trouble she caused them!  Now there's a girl you'd like to bring to the pub with you on a Saturday night.  Minus the policemen of course.

I shouldn't really jest about these brave women, and the hundreds of others that I haven't mentioned, but it's the only way I know how to show my admiration and appreciation for them.  The bravest thing I've ever done is my life is not to run when I see a spider on the floor in my kitchen.

Elizabeth O Farrell also took charge of 13 pounds in gold for a young rebel solider who was surrendering.  He explained to her that he was saving to get married and took all his money with him when he left his lodgings to join the fight.  She doesn't mention his name.  This money was taken from her at her arrest.  She fought to have it returned to her, and eventually it was.  She doesn't say if it was returned to the young volunteer, or if it was handed over to his fiancee, or if in fact he survived and they eventually got married.  I would like to know the end to that story.  100 years later?  Now that would make interesting research...

The great bake off...

How do you get from this:

To this:

Well!

It takes a bit of this:

Quite a bit of this:

And several of these:

Aw, but it was all worth it.

It's for my favorite sister in law (apologies to my other sister in laws, but she told me to say that!) Michele, who is 21 tomorrow.  She'd kill me if I told you her real age, so if you see her tomorrow just say 'Happy Birthday' and don't mention the numbers!

Anyway, I'd love to stay and chat but after all that baking, I'm a bit:

Life in the music industry.

It's Wednesday evening.  Normally on a Wednesday evening I'm at my Pilates class, but not tonight.

No, tonight I'm at another Opera masterclass with the Maestro.  And, we are not the only ones at the opera tonight. Apparently there are operas being performed all over the world as we speak, San Francisco, Berlin, Washington DC, Paris, Boston, Vienna and believe it or not, in Nashville!   Nashville, the home of the 'Grand Ol' Opery'?  Well who'd a thought it (she says while clicking her cowboy booted heels and re aligning her Stetson).

I won't go through the play list for tonight, as if you are a regular reader, you will know the drill by now.  The usual suspects singing, hitting both high and low notes that I can only dream of hitting in my pity-full Karaoke career, the interpreter, and the usual suspects and a few new ones, in the audience.  Word must be spreading!  In fact not only has the word been spreading, but the whole experience has been spreading.  During the summer it spread all the way over to Pinner, North London!  The Maestro went on tour.  Without me!!

After all the Pilates classes I have given up on a Wednesday night, after all the hard work I put in (finding the cable for the speakers is always very hard work), after all the dinners I've eaten in a hurry to be ready for seven o clock, after all the Bellini's I've had to listen to instead of drinking, I didn't get to go on tour to the bright lights of London and sit with the Stars...  (Not that there were any bright lights, or Stars for that matter, and I think I was on holidays at the time, but that's not the point...)

And to add insult to injury, my eleven year old niece, Eliza, took my place beside the Maestro.

I didn't think as transport manager (I drive everybody to the community centre), or as chief roadie (I carry the stuff in from the car), or as front of house manager (I help set out the chairs in the room we use), or as lighting technician (I plug in the lamps, and switch them on!), or as sound engineer (I plug the speakers into the computer and press the play button when required) all rolled into one, that I could possibly be replaced. 

Well I was.  By an eleven year old!  

Life in the music industry is cruel.

Seriously, and secretly, I'm very impressed that my niece was not only able to take my place, but that she actually wanted to.  It's nice that she wanted to sit alongside her Grandad and listen to his music.  If the tables had been turned I'm not so sure that Granddad would have listened to hers!  As good as Taylor Swift is, I don't think she can hold a note (ha!) to Maria Callas. 

Anyway, when I was approached to assist at tonight's performance, I insisted that my contract as 'assistant' be renegotiated before I agreed to assist. 

It took some time and patience but the out come of the negotiations, as you can see by the very fact that I'm here writing, was favorable.  

Almost as favorable as the 2016 Budget that was announced in Ireland yesterday.  

So tonight, in recognition of all my efforts over the past couple of years, my reward will be, at the break tonight, I can have two biscuits with my coffee instead of one...

PS... If there's anyone that I went to school with reading this, Panis Angelicus was on the play list tonight.  That should bring you back a decade or two (or three?).

Apple cider.

I've been busy on this fine sunny afternoon.  Picking apples.

And a great crop I got this year.  Twice as many as last year.  I'm looking forward to sampling them. I'm not sure yet what medium I'm going to use to taste them, apple tart, apple jam, apple jelly, apple sauce...  Endless choices.

There are still some left on the tree, but they are too small to pick, and there is about the same amount again on the ground.

The slugs got to the one's on the ground before I did, so they have already been 'sampled'.  I hope they, the slugs that is, enjoyed them.  And I hope they enjoy the with the same relish, the slug pellets that I am going to put down now, and hopefully that will get rid of them before they eat anything else in the garden!  I've heard that a good way to get rid of slugs is to place cans of cider round the garden, then the slugs crawl into them and die.  Probably a better way to go then slug pellets.

I'm still not sure what to do with them.  The apples, that is, not the slugs!

I also have a bumper crop of Begonia's.

Thankfully the slugs didn't eat them!  Actually, it's a pity you can't eat Begonia's, as this lot would make a lovely colorful cake.

Anyway, much as I'd love to give you a tour of all the lovely plants flowering in my garden at the moment, I best get back to the apples, otherwise I will be chopping and peeling all night!

Still not sure what to do with them...

Glass of cider anyone?

The curious incident of the blind date!

I had a date last night!

A blind date!

Intrigued?  Well, before you rush to the phone to call me to find out what is going on, remember I told you some time ago that I was a member of a Facebook book club?  The one run by the 2FM DJ Rick O'Shea?  (No, I didn't have a date with him)  Well that's was where it all started...

We, the book club, had our first official meeting last  night.

It was in the Dubray Book store in Grafton Street, a place I like to frequent from time to time.  It was well attended by patrons of the book club, and there was even a glass of wine.  (I feel like I should morph into Julie Andrews and start singing 'these are a few of my favorite things').

The reason we started the evening in the book store was because Rick was interviewing Simon Stephens, the award winning playwright who has adapted the novel 'The Curious Incident of the dog in the Middle of the Night' for the stage.  A production of which is coming to Dublin shortly, hence Simon's visit.

Well, I tried to take some notes so I could tell you a bit about the interview, but I gave up very early on, as I got distracted by Simon himself.  He is an earnest, engaging, charismatic, funny, articulate guy, who spoke so fast and for so long, that Rick only got to ask a couple of his questions in the hour that we were there.  Simon kept going off on tangents and at one stage he mentioned James Joyce and Shane McGowan in the one sentence.  I could try to explain the context, but I would probably run out of space here...

Simon did also, after some prompting from a journalist in the audience, give us his 5 steps for successful writing.

1. Thinking (Mulling as he called it, and you have to do this for a very long time)
2. Research
3. Planning
4. Structure
5. Writing

As you can see from this post, I went straight to no. 5.  But they are good pointers to have for any aspiring writer.  If thinking was all it took, the I would have been an award winning author ages ago!

So, when the interview sadly came to an end, the book club members relocated to Alfie Byrnes for the main event of the evening.

A blind date, with a book!

For those of you who don't know what that is, here's how it works.  You wrap a book with brown paper, tie it with string, and put a label on it giving a few hints as to what the book is about.  Easy!

I had no problem with the book, but struggled with the brown paper, string and label.  I had to use all my Blue Peter skills to come up with a solution.  (I turned some wrapping paper inside out and drew on the string and label).  John Noakes would have been proud of me and my finished product:

So, after a stroll from Grafton Street through the Green, I found Alfie Byrnes and gathered with the rest of the readers at our reserved tables and waited excitedly for somebody to tell us what exactly we were to do with our books!

After several suggestions, the books were eventually placed in a pile on a table.  The excitement was building with every book that was placed.  (Julie Andrews is singing again, 'brown paper packages tied up with string...')

It was like Christmas!  Except that there were no socks in the parcels, or no Christmas wrapping paper (oh wait, what's that little bit of red I can see in the picture??), or no tree, or no fairy lights, or no pudding.  But the excitement was like sneaking down the stairs on Christmas morning and anticipating something great.

When my turn came, it didn't take me long to chose.  The words 'letters' and 'secrets' caught my eye and my choice was made.

So at last I met my blind date!

First impressions?  Well 'he' looks interesting, obviously has some hidden secrets and is a bit mysterious.  I suppose it beats tall, dark and handsome!!

The other books quickly disappeared, but after the first round, my book along with a few others, was still on the table...  I felt like I was back in school, not being picked for the basketball team.  But, unlike me and the basketball team, it was eventually chosen and opened and cherished.  Phew!

I'm not going to reveal the book title, you will just have to wait until I have my first date (as in read the first chapter), then we will see if there will be more dates (or will I finish the book!!).

Watch this space for my kiss and tell interview!  I wonder will Rick be around for that....

Seeing more stars (and the sun!)

As if to prove a point to me, this was the sky over my house at lunch time today:

The jets were out in force leaving their trails behind them.

Also, you might notice that big shiny thing in the middle of the photo.  That's called the sun, and might I suggest that you take your deck chair, like I did last night, and sit out on it today pointing north, south, east or west, whichever works, and watch that thing shine for as long as it's there.  As, like the shooting stars, it too only appears once a year in Ireland!!

And, I also had an audience for lunch:

They were waiting patiently for me to finish my lunch and give them the leftovers!  For once in his life Rusty didn't chase them away.  Maybe he too was tired from staying up so late last night...

Seeing stars.

I listened carefully to the instructions given by the very knowledgeable lady on the radio yesterday.

It all seemed easy to follow, except I wasn't quite sure which direction north was from my garden. But Dad came to the rescue with a very handy compass app on his phone.  After a few minutes standing outside and shaking his phone to get the right calibration we had established which way we should be looking.

So, I waited until after 10.30pm last night, turned off all the lights in my house, then went outside and set my deck chair to face north.

Did anyone else join me in watching the light show?

Apparently this happens every year, and this year we should also be able to see the International Space Station!

By the way the lady (I can't remember what her name is, or what her qualifications were?) on the radio said that we should see up to 20 per minute.  At least that's what I remember her saying.  But as I can't remember her name that number could be suspect too.

Anyway...  I made a cup of coffee (decaff!  I didn't want to be up all night!!) turned off all the lights and went outside.  I didn't want to miss any of the excitement.

I thought I was going to see something that would look like the man in the moon turning on his Christmas tree lights and setting them to 'flash'!  It was a very still night and there were a few clouds, but I even tho it wasn't quite what I expected, I did see 5 shooting stars in the time that it took me to drink my coffee.  It was nice to see, and a little bit exciting.  I stayed a little while after my coffee was finished, and saw a couple more but I lost count and started to get cold.

I didn't see the Space Station, or maybe I did and didn't realize what it was, but I was most surprised by the amount of planes that went by while I was sitting there.  I didn't know I was on a flight path.  They were quite high up and not very noisy, so maybe that's why I have never noticed before.  Also, I am not usually out that late looking up at the sky!!  And where are all those people in the planes going at that hour of the night??

While I was sitting out there, freezing under my blanket, drinking my coffee to try and keep warm, Rusty kept me company:

He wasn't quite sure what he was supposed to be looking at, but he was delighted to be let stay up so late.

I kinda wish I hadn't stayed up so late, as now I feel that although I didn't miss out on the shooting stars, I did miss out on some sleep...

Dublin to Cork with some knitting in between!

I'm on the train home from a very pleasant weekend in Cork.

Yesterday, we had to drive to Tipperary on a top secret mission.  Obviously I can't divulge any details at the moment, but let's just say, that phase one of the covert mission has been accomplished and I'll fill you in when the time comes for all to be revealed.

We took a picnic with us and on our way back took the old road from Dublin to Cork and stopped at some woods that I've forgotten the name of, to eat our food.  We were joined by some ants and a small grasshopper who stowed away in our bags and was only discovered when we got home!  He was quickly dispatched to the garden and sent on his way.

Keeping to the old road and avoiding the motorway, we made a stop at a little place called Kilworth.  In all the times I have driven the old road I have never stopped at Kilworth.  Now I either use the motorway or take the train! Well shame on me for not stopping here before as it it a typically lovely little Irish village.  And it was especially colourful this weekend as there had been a 'knitting bomb' 

Look:  

What a lovely sight.  And, with all that knitting going on I thought I'd better join in! Sure it would be rude not to. 

I was having a great time sitting there knitting, until a little boy came by and asked me was I one of the knitters!  I felt like a bit of a fraud then and had to tell him no.  I quickly packed up my knitting and ran for the hills!  

And speaking of fraud, or in fact fraudsters, look what we spotted In between all the knitted trees,  A small stone monument with this plaque fixed to it.

So, by a strange twist of fate, even though I'd never been to Kilworth before, it seems that my ancestors have. And a notorious one at that.  I wasn't the only Brennan running for the hills!

I did look but, I can find much about him.  Apparently he was the most popular Irish highwayman since the second half of the 19th century, and was immortalized in the ballad "Brennan On The Moor" as it tells you on the monument.  We laughed when we read the bit that said 'brave young highwayman'.  Nowadays he would not be so popular for his brave deeds, he would be brandished a 'thug' for stealing with menace! 

I would liked to have spent a little more time in Kilworth to dig up the dirt on our ancestors, but we had to get home to feed the dogs.

Poor Ellie was being ever so patient waiting on her dinner...

Summer time.

Hello! How have you all been?

I'm just back from a lovely week in Spain, where surprisingly the sun shone and the Cava flowed.  We did have some rain, which was accompanied by spectacular thunder and lightening.  But it was mostly at night time and was very entertaining to watch as with each flash the lightening lit up the sky.  Thunder and lightening in Ireland is usually associated with winter and storms, which is what I came back to!!  Winter like weather.

Well not exactly, slight exaggeration there, but not exactly great weather either for August..

So, to cheer myself up (and to avoid all the post holiday washing and ironing), I decided while still in 'holiday' mode to finish off my vacation with a trip to Cork.

Of course I had another reason for visiting Cork.

These two!

The cutest pups in all of Ireland. (Sorry Rusty!)

They are aptly named. Ellie and Tera.  Ellie, the elegant!  She's the quiet, polite one.  Tera, the terror!  She's bold as brass. While I'm sitting here writing this she pulling and chewing the cord of the dressing gown I'm wearing (probably shoulda got dressed!), and Ellie is sitting quietly beside me.

On Friday evening, we took them for a short walk to the park opposite Deirdre's house and let them have a look at the sea.



In the park, there is a newly constructed sculpture.  And here we are, Sisters with Sisters, standing inside it.

It's called Kindred Spirits, and is a tribute to the Choctaw Indians, who during the Great Famine, while themselves being at their most downtrodden, and having suffered a similar fate, managed to raise $710 (that would equate to approx one million dollars today) and send it to Ireland to help aid the starving people.

Sometimes I don't understand art.  I can appreciate the time and effort that the artist puts in to the piece but I don't always 'get' it.  But this one is easy to get.  It's magnificent!  As it wasn't quite dark when we were there, I didn't see it lit up, but Deirdre says its spectacular.  I'll have to come back when it's dark.

Being pedigree dogs, Ellie and Tera have 'official names'.  Winter Holly and May Sunflower, which to me sound like names that Indians give to their children.  So it was kind of nice that their first big outing was to this sculpture.

Now, if only we had a 'Medicine Man' around, we could use his magic powers to clean up the back garden after these two pups.

Oh yes and an Indian summer so that we could sit in the cleaned up garden...

A bird, or a sandwich, in the hand.

This regal looking fella has been a regular visitor to next doors roof this summer.  I wasn't quite sure if he was a heron or not so I looked him, and his habits, up.  He's a heron alright, and he likes to hang around ponds.

Hmmm...

I've had a look over the fence, but my neighbour hasn't had a pond installed.  Neither has the next house along. Or the one after that.  He drives Rusty mad, because he stands very still and doesn't fly away in terror like the other birds that risk flying over the garden.

This heron is not normally on his own, no, he's usually holding court with a flock of gulls.  Very large gulls.  None of these, the heron or the gulls, have bothered me all summer (I use the term 'summer' in the loosest sense of the word, as we have had a very poor attempt at it this year), until this week.

I listen to the radio while I'm working, and for the past few days I have been listening to tales of aggressive gulls stealing food out of the mouths of babes.  People have been calling in from all over the country.  One man in Abbey Street (Dublin) had his burger snatched out of his hand.  A lady in Galway had her very expensive M&S sandwich taken while she sat in Eyre Square.  That particular gull got his picture taken by onlookers and a round of applause.  Another caller told us how a gull just swooped down and took the chicken out of her salad and left the onions.  I didn't really blame him, I don't like onions in my salad either.  They are also waking the people in the coastal town of Skerries very early in the morning with their noisy antics.  There were also worrying reports of them stealing sweets from children in school yards.

I did laugh!

But then the conversation took a sinister turn.  A farmer from Kerry called in to the station and told how he had to beat gulls off two of his sheep.  Despite his best efforts, the sheep later died.  I had stopped laughing by then...

One of our Senators also called the radio station and told how he has, as a resident of the inner city, experienced the problem and raised the issue in the Oireachtas, but was met with ridicule!  How could they laugh??

All joking aside, something is going to have to be done about problem and Dublin in particular will have to come up with some sort of seagull policy similar to the ones adopted in other cities like Boston and Barcelona.  I think they destroy the eggs in the nests, which helps with the problem.

A very intense guy from an animal rights association also called into the station and said we will all have to change our eating habits and stop walking around the city with ice-cream and sandwiches and kebabs in our hands.  Food for though I suppose... 

In the meantime, I'll be keeping a close eye on the flock on next doors roof.  I won't be culling (sorry!) Rusty's barking, he can bark all he likes at them.  And I'll also be keeping my sandwiches undercover when eating outside!

I'm also checking the telephone directory under the letter 'H' for Hitchcock...


PS..  That still doesn't explain the lone heron?

A grand day out!

Earlier in the year one of my friends had one of those birthdays that has a zero at the end of it.  I won't reveal any names or ages, but he big party that Joan had earlier in the year with all the balloons with 50 on them, and a the great band that had us all dancing, and of course, the cake, might give the game away.

So, you can't have a birthday without getting a present, but what do you give the girl that has everything?  A lilac cardigan and a set of pearls as her 'old lady' uniform?  No, that would never do!

I racked my brains, and eventually remembered something that another friend had told me about and highly recommended.  And the best thing about this present was that I go to go to!

After a three month wait for a booking, and then a very disappointing postponement, our day out eventually arrived.  We got a 'very early for a Saturday' bus into town, grabbed a quick coffee and a little walk down memory lane for Joan in Kylemore Cafe (she used to work in the building), then took our places at the appointed meeting place of the Spire in O'Connell Street.

It wasn't long before our guide arrived.  A very pretty little French girl called Ketty, who was going to take us on a walking tour of Dublin.  I know, I initially thought it was a bit odd too, getting up ridiculously early on a Saturday morning to walk around my own city with a French girl.  But I should have mentioned that the tour was called 'French Foodie in Dublin'.

We were going to eat our way round our home town!

After a brief history of food and Irish eating habits over the centuries we were off to our first port of call.

A pub!

Well, it's a pub at night, but during the day, it's a coffee bar.  We were very pleased, as the coffee we had grabbed earlier was horrible!  We are both coffee drinkers and don't drink instant coffee, but even we were impressed by the science behind the coffee we got to taste.  I didn't know there was a ratio between the coffee and the liquid, and that the temperature and brewing time were so precise.  It was almost as technical as baking a cake.  And the brewer had the best coffee maker that I have ever seen:

It looks like something you would see in an Opium den (not that I have ever been in one of those!) but it was actually very simple to use, and even tho all of the coffee was not to my taste, it did make very smooth coffee.  It was like sampling wine, as he explained the different 'notes' and flavors that you could find in each cup that he brewed.  

What a great way to start the tour, we were certainly on a high, even if it was caffeine induced one, when we left there.  

Our next stop was an 'arty' cafe, where we had brunch of the poshest scrambled eggs on sour dough bread that I have ever eaten.   After that it was along the street to a little bakery where we ate freshly baked scones with home made jam, that was spooned out of the pot still warm.  

I suppose I should tell you that we didn't just eat, we did get a bit of the history behind each place that we visited.  All the brewers/bakers and chefs we have met so far, have all left boring jobs in the Finance (or similar) industry to follow their dream of slaving over a stove to make food for the likes of me and Joan.  I can only speak for my self when I say that I am very glad that they did!  Although I do think Joan would agree with me.

Our next stop was the farmers market in Temple Bar, where I sampled a very tasty olive, then on to our next stop.  

An ice-cream bar!  And it's even called after Joan!

We had a very generous host at this location, where we sampled ice-cream made from milk from the Kerry cows.  Apparently these cows are rarer than Giant Pandas!  Some people would say anything to sell ice-cream.  

I did like the caramelized brown bread flavor, but my favorite sample was the gin flavored one,...

By now we were beginning to feel a bit stuffed and we were only half way through the tour.  All the time we were eating, we were also getting more information about the culinary explosion that is going on in Dublin at the moment.  It's a great place to eat at the moment, but I wasn't sure I could eat anything else.   What's that?  Did somebody mentioned a chocolate shop... 

Chestnut honey and strawberry and basil were the samples offered in the chocolate shop.  I still can't decide if I liked the chestnut honey chocolate, but it was chocolate, so it would have been rude to leave it behind.  The strawberry and basil, which are not two ingredients that I would put together, was like heaven in a little square!  There were also macaroons in this shop, but we didn't get to sample those, as they were imported from France, and we were there to sample all things Irish!  

I was ready to go home.  (Or fall into a food induced coma!)  There was no way she, our tour guide, could possibly surpass the chocolate experience.  

Unless your next stop is the best fish and chip shop in town!  

Just as well we were walking between eating sessions.  We did protest, but our cries of fullness soon faded when presented with perfectly battered fish pieces and beautifully fried chips.  We also got a brief history of how fish and chips became so popular in Ireland.  I'm not going to tell you, you will have to do the tour to find out!

And then, there was more.

Next stop was one specially on the menu for Joan.  A cheese maker!  I didn't know how I was going to fit anything else in!  I was sorry I hadn't worn my elastic waist-ed pants!  Just as well the samples provided were very small.  And very tasty.  

At this stage we were on the other side of town to where we had started.  I had reached my limit.  I couldn't eat another thing.  

But we had one more stop.  

Whiskey tasting!  Well, you couldn't have an Irish tour without Whiskey, could you?  This French girl certainly know how to do a finale!

Not being a whiskey drinker, this one was a bit wasted on me.  But Joan really enjoyed this bit.  She's not really a whiskey drinker either, but was able to appreciate it better then I did.  We did taste one brand that was made in Connemara, and we could actually taste and smell the bog.  Drinking it was like sitting in a old farmhouse with a turf fire crackling in the corner throwing smoke out and covering everybody in ash.  Seriously, we could taste all that in the liquid!  

Our tour was finished.  All the people we met along the way were very knowledgeable and interested in their chosen food/drink.  I wish I was a passionate about preparing food, and not just eating it, as they all were.  I know I speak for the two of us when I say we thoroughly enjoyed the experience.  

So, after all that walking, and eating, we had to sit down for a minute and have a drink...

And look!  For the day that was in it, they even put a blackberry in my drink!  I didn't eat it tho', I was too full....

First time for everything.

So, how's your week been?

Well, mine has been a week of 'firsts'!

This week was the first time that I've had my eyelid turned inside out!
Yes, that did happen.  The doctor did it with a cotton bud, very adeptly too.  Not a pleasant experience, but it proved to him that there was nothing lodged in my eye, and instead I must be suffering from some mystery infection.  That was the good news!  The bad news meant putting some horrible ointment in my eye twice a day until whatever infection was in it cleared up.

Then there was the 'Mystery of the Sprained Ankle'.
A book title?   I think the chapters would all read the same.  A long drawn out description of pain.  Some pondering as to how the sprain occurred.  Some more moaning about pain,  Some more pondering, and then the build up to the final chapter where at last the pain killers are introduced!  That would be the plot for the first book, and in this case, I sincerely hope there isn't a sequel!

And following that there was the 'Night in the A&E'.
That sounds like the title to a horror movie,  And the script, if I would care to write it, would read like a script from one too.  That will be one movie I won't be buying on DVD to watch over again...

And in a further twist to the plot of mishaps, this week I had my first X-Ray, followed by my first MRI scan.

Seriously!

The X-ray was nothing, all over in 10 seconds.  Wish I could say the same for the MRI.  If any of you have every had one then you can skip this paragraph and go straight to the end.  And if any of you haven't had one, then you can stop reading and go straight to the end also.  It's not a nice experience, especially when you are being led to your fate by a very nice radiographer who claps her hands and exclaims with glee "Oh a Newbie"  when I told her that I had never had one before.

So, because of my lack of knowledge and familiarity with the process, she took great delight in explaining the process from top to bottom.  As well as all the technical stuff, she promised me nice music and a pleasant 15 minutes of peace for myself.    

I believed her, she was very convincing.

Well they put me in position, gave me the some headphones an escape button to squeeze if I felt under duress, and then sent me on my way down the tunnel.

I can't tell you what it was like inside, because I never opened my eyes.   I decided to keep them tightly shut and concentrate on the music.  When I was finally rolled into position they turned on the radio just as Michael Jackson was having a chat with some guy in the mirror.  When he was finished, Katie Melua was counting bicycles in Beijing, and after that Frankie Valley's eyes adored me, (well you couldn't really blame him as I was very fetching in my blue hospital gown).  Then just as it was all getting a bit too much for me, Labi Siffre was singing about something inside so strong...  How did he know??  I didn't hear Labi finish as the radiographer interrupted him and said she was taking me out.  BIG SIGH of relief!

The radiographer couldn't believe how still I had kept, and was delighted that she didn't have to re-do any of the scans.  Not as delighted as me!  But anybody that has spent a night in the same room as me can testify that when I sleep, I never move.  In fact, on one girly weekend away, my sister-in-law and a friend stood over me for ages willing me to move so that they could see that I was still alive.  So my ability to be very still has finally paid off by enabling me to get in and out of that horrible noisy machine, quickly.

When it was all over and I was leaving the clinic, the radiographer gave me a CD.  For a minute I thought it was a copy of the music I had been listening to as a souvenir!  In fact, it was a copy of my scans.  Kevin insisted on having a look at it when we got home, and put it into the computer, but we couldn't open any of the files.  So not to disappoint him, I'm now doing a re-enactment of the whole process using the couch as the MRI machine!

And can I just say, too, that I have the nicest friends.  They all came to visit me with flower, cake and chocolate.  I'm feeling very spoiled!  Thank you all very much.

I'm also feeling much better and my ankle is now less swollen than it was, which means that I can probably go out for a drink tomorrow night.  I might even have two drinks.

And anybody that knows me would knows that that would definitely be another first for me....

Better already!

Feeling much better, thanks to my friend and these:

Sometimes it's almost worth having a swollen ankle and conjunctivitis at the same time.

What's that you say, I never mentioned the thing with my eyes!! Oh well that's a whole new story for another day....

Thanks Trisha!

A room with a view.

Here's my view for today!

Not very pretty?  But it's a lot prettier than it was last night.

I know you're going to ask me what happened?  Well, I don't know.  One minute I was talking on the phone to my nephew about the two new, far too cute for words puppies that he bought, without my sister (who is away on a cruise) knowing.  And the next minute I had a horrible pain in my foot, and shortly after that a hugely swollen ankle.

I should really say I was in training for a marathon, or out disco dancing (does anybody still go out 'disco dancing'??) but I think I was just unlucky and put my foot down the wrong way.

I was also unlucky to have had my 'injury' when all the health clinics were closed for the night, so I had to spend the night in the A&E in Tallaght hospital.

I'm not going to tell you how I got on there, because you would never want to read anything I write here again if I did.  But just lets say it's not something I ever want to go through again.

But, there is an up side to this.

I have to lie here on the couch all day, so that gives me plenty of time to look at all the pictures of cute puppies that my nephew is posting on Facebook.

Here's one for you too look at:

And here's another one:

And another one:

If only I didn't have this stupid bandage on my ankle then I could drive to Cork and give those two a cuddle and that would make me feel better.

Of course if anybody would like to come over with chocolate, or cake, that would make me feel a whole lot better too...

One problem to another.

The weather (my favorite subject!) has been great here for the last couple of weeks.  Lots of lovely sunshine and nice warm evenings.  I've been making the most of it and spending as much time as I can outside.

But, with the good weather, comes my least favorite subject.  The flies, the bluebottles, the wasps, and all the other flying, buzzing creatures that like to invade my house in the warm weather.

So this year, instead of spending my time sweeping them from the window ledges where they like to die, after spending hours bashing themselves against the window trying to get out, I have decided to foil them.  And not let them in in the first place.

So here's my new defense system against the tiresome bugs.

One super duper fly screen!

It was really easy to assemble and fit.  Well at least it was according to the instructions.  But they must have written them with an octopus in mind, as more than one pair of arms were necessary to keep everything in place while fitting.  Anyway, after several failed attempts to tame wayward Velcro and get it to stick where it was supposed to stick, I finally got it in place.  Not too shabby an attempt, even if I say so myself.

And, so far so good.  There hasn't been a fly, bluebottle, wasp, bee, ant, moth or anything else with wings in my house all day.  Of course, that could be due to the fact that it has been raining since yesterday and the bugs are no where to be seen.  But I'd like to thing that's it's because they in couldn't find their way through my firewall!  Now I just have to remember not to open the windows in case they get in through them!

Here's somebody else that can't find the way through.

Look at his puzzled little face.  He can't understand what on earth is going on.  He has made several attempts to get through, most of which included barking.  I did explain how it works to him, and I even gave a demonstration, (I hope none of my neighbors were watching me down on all fours with my head through the netting) but he still didn't get it.  All I got was a baffled look.  I tried putting some treats on one side, but no that didn't work either, that just started the barking all over again, and attracted some flies!

So, I've gotten rid of one problem, and given myself another...

Roll on the winter!!

One I prepared earlier.

Hello!

It's been a while....

So, what have you all been doing since I was last here?  Me?  Well I've been, eh.  Emm... One sec... Er...

I don't know what I've been doing.

Unless you count knitting.  I've been doing a bit of that.  What's that I hear?  The sound of footsteps running off into the distance?  A door slamming shut?  Wait!  Don't run away, I promise I'm not going to turn this into a knitting blog.

But I do just want to tell you this story.

A while ago I told you that my sister Deirdre was a bit of an international knitter, knitting jumpers for hens and other small things (children!) and had sent some garments to her nephew in Holland.  Do you remember?  Try to keep up!!  Well shortly after I posted that message, I got a Facebook message from my cousin in Las Vegas, (who, just to confuse things, is also called Deirdre) with a picture attached of an Aran cardigan that I had allegedly knit for her about 30 years ago.  At first I thought it was a mistake, because as you all know I'm only 25, so I couldn't possibly have knit it.

Anyway, after careful consideration, (and a quick check on my birth cert) I had to admit that I vaguely remembered knitting the sweater.  And once I remembered that one, I also remembered the others that I had done for various other people.  I had a proper little cottage industry going!!

So, here is Exhibit A now, in all it's glory!

Apparently she still wears it from time to time, but not so much now as it's very hot in Las Vegas!

Deirdre (the Las Vegas one, not my sister) has two granddaughters now.  I see some photos of them from time to time, and thought it would be nice to carry on the tradition of sending Aran sweaters to the US.

So I knit these two for her granddaughters!

So now they can be just like Grandma.   That's a good thing?  Right Deirdre??

Apparently Deirdre was having a bad headache day when the postman arrived with the sweaters.  She was so delighted when she saw what was in the envelope that she forgot all her troubles.

So, not only can I knit Aran sweaters, but I can also cure headaches!!

All that talent, and I'm still only 25!!

Imagine the things I will be able to do when I'm old...