Wednesday, July 16, 2008

Dear google map person

Hello. You're doing a great job. I wonder if you could do me a little favour while you're at it. Could you keep an eye on the cats on our road when everybody goes to work? Just for a couple of days during the week. I was walking to work this morning and i noticed all the cats on our road were sitting in their respective driveways or gardens. Watching me. It was as if they were waiting to make sure all the humans were out of the way before they started. Doing something. The dog won't get out of bed unless we're at home, so I'm sure he knows there's something afoot. Or apaw. Our cat, Mittens, killed a pigeon that was bigger than himself last week. Feathers everywhere. He's gotten very self confident lately. Hmmm.

athletic support

I was watching the athletics from Roma last weekend, and saw at least two races where despite the use of a pacemaker the races did not end up being particularly fast. Now I'm no runner, with the exception of the odd bus or last orders occasionally, so I'll have to consult with Fatmammycat or some other professional, but I think I spotted the problem. The pacemaker was running IN FRONT OF the other runners. I reckon if you're going to pay for a pacemaker they should run behind the other runners, preferably with an electric cattle prod or large ridgeback and hurling verbal abuse and threats at those in front. In the good old days, when Ballybane had a butchers shop instead of a roundabout we used to run home with the liver (deliver the liver), chased by two hungry Irish wolfhounds. Not a barrell of laughs, I'll grant you, but by god the liver was fresh when we brought it home (if we brought it home....)

Friday, July 11, 2008

sad day

Had the terrible misfortune of attending the funeral of a 14 year old yesterday. A lad I had coached in rugby over the past year died suddenly while playing sports in summer camp. During the service the priest itemised a list of some of the boy's experiences and achievements at that terribly tender age, including practically finishing his first novel, which would put many of us to shame. His eleven year old brother, roommate and confidant addressed the huge congregation at length and with great honesty, dignity and a level of insight which belied his years. His schoolmates sang and played music beautifully, though their hearts were fit to burst with grief, experienced at far too young an age. The young buried the young.

Thursday, July 03, 2008

The workings of a teenagers mind

We spent a lovely couple of weeks on a campsite in Carnac last year. We go to Brittany every other year or thereabouts, lots of Breton friends over the years through music etc. 16 going on 17 particularly had a ball, enjoyed a lot of freedom becaurse the campsite was very safe, lots of other 16 going on 17 year olds hanging by the pool etc. So good was the holiday we decide to repeat it this year. 16 going on 17 balks because the older boys didn't HAVE to come on holiday with us when they turned 17. Still with me? Good. Ok. So 16 going on 17 comes home from school in December asking whether he can go on the school skiing trip in the US at Easter. We saw the price, took a deep breath and said "OK, but you will have to come to Brittany with us in the summer" (Main concern being that the house would turn into a complete cess pit and fall down if our three sons were left alone in it for a fortnight) "I'll think about it" says he. Eventually he agrees, but he's left it so long that all the places on skiing trip are filled. sigh..........
Two weeks before skiing trip He comes home to say someone has pulled out of the skiing trip and they're holding the place for him. "Fair enough" we sigh, "provided you come to Brittany. He balks. No way is he going on holiday. "none of the others had to come with you". "True. But none of the thers have ever been on a skiing trip and/or to the US." we counter. We call his bluff, but he hangs tough and doesn't go skiing in the US at Easter.
Last week he says he's going to come to Brittany with us.