Tag Archives: ireland

Teddy Bear

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From space, I’d imagine Ireland has an even thicker outline today. The population is most certainly on if not heading to the beach. The sun, after months of heating Europe to cinders, has eventually arrived to the periphery of the continent to sur’ God help us, Ireland. Nice of ye to leave some heat for us, danke schoen, merci, grazie, gracias.

It gives the country an instant makeover, in one weekend, we will burn our own teddy bear shaped hole in the ozone from the barbecues, deck chairs will be wiped down and sun lotion by God, will be applied. There’s still a chill, we’re not talking heat high in the teens, celsius wise. No, we’re just talking the appearance of sun.

If nothing else, it will keep the farmers happy, nobody was willing to say it, but it was a little bit wet there for a while. I intentionally stopped talking about the weather. I mean it’s not as if the weather is a surprise really. There’s a reason we sing about Ireland and its’ forty shades of green. From the window, I see all forty of them today, mossy, limey, emerald, yellowish green, cabbage green, avocado (mind you) and shamrock green (we mustn’t forget) to name but a few.

The lady in the shop nearly hugged me when I said it was a nice day. ‘Isn’t it, isn’t it’ she shouted, ‘and we were starting to think the summer forgot us.’ Never, never, the summer would never do that to us. For it is the saddest thing in the world to see an Irish person downhearted. It is true, we are very friendly and we do for the most part try to keep a sunny disposition for the audience at least. The smile there for a while was beginning to fade so as part of a seasonal bailout to put the smile back on the Irish person’s face, we got some sun.

What am I doing talking to you people? There’s a beach to get to. Children to dunk into a near freezing Atlantic. Ah bless. That lovable ridiculous optimism of ours. You gotta love us. Who wouldn’t love the people from the country shaped like a teddy bear? It’s the sun, it’s gone to the head already.

O sole mio, enjoy the sun wherever it shines upon you.

Gliding

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I sat in the same place almost a year ago to the day, celebrating my birthday at forty one weeks pregnant, unable to fit any clothes, unable to sit still in a restaurant or a cinema or able to enjoy the usual birthday treats. I sat there with the farmer on a scorching Sunday eating a bag of salty chips watching people come and go like the waves behind me, to-ing and fro-ing in their usual manner. Forty one weeks pregnant and utterly miserable. Have you tried walking the hills people asked in their are-you-sure-you’re-not-just-holding-the-baby-in way! Yes, I walked hills, why on that very hill, the hill to Ballybunion’s Ladies beach, I thought I was going into labour on more than one occasion that very week I’ll have you know. A year ago. Almost to the day. 

What a year it’s been. Everyone takes to motherhood differently you know. I’ve taken to it each time like the only undignified swan of the flock in shallow mucky waters. What an analogy. You see, I start out wanting to be graceful, gliding, swanlike but end up stuck and I’m sure in what is a very tiring situation, covered in mud and squawking as that swan would in the messy post storm pond. Where am I going with this? Beats me, I don’t particularly like swans.  And there you have early motherhood for me. Messy, confused, undignified. And the little signets do well enough but it’s taken me on three different occasions almost a year after the birth to pull the mind, body and soul back into some proportion. And yet, it always does in the end you know.
So, there we sat earlier today in the same spot, me and this darling boy as he smiled at me in all his perfection, my gentle, sweet baby. Sitting there on that same hill, under the same brilliant blue sky, a tad cloudier mind you and I saw that steep hill, the year that had past, tides that have come and gone and left me this beauty in their stead and me an utterly transformed woman, yet again. Anthony a year old, me a year older sharing a moment on our hill overlooking the Atlantic under a dramatic blue sky and might I add, gliding.