Up from the depths

[radegund]

I really don't know how it can have been so long since I posted. It's been a rellie-tastic few weeks. (I'm still skipping 60 on my flist, which is normally enough to inhibit my twisty self from posting at all, but feckit.)

We went to Belfast to see segments of niallm's family, and then down to Connemara with about 80* of my relatives. Oisín had the time of his life in both places.

In Belfast he had available for his amusement a fabulous young third cousin (five months his junior), a selection of devoted adult fans, lots of toys that went beep (and a few that went boop), bouncy balls, a park with a pedalled roundabout, and a very fine fox-terrier called Toby. Toby was the subject of a series of staged experiments on O's part, whereby he managed to bring himself from SHEER WHIMPERING TERROR on the first evening, through horrified fascination, nervous amusement and eager sympathy, until he was finally - FINALLY - able to pet the beast on the morning of our last day. It was absolutely fascinating to watch him put himself through what amounted to a desensitisation programme. I think we might have a determined son.

Connemara featured several more dogs, including a black labrador puppy who attached himself to our party when we were out for a walk on the first day and stayed around the place for the following week (I gather he belonged to a house some hundred yards down the road from our cottages). There were also cows, sheep, cats (who say mao! mao!), birds, trees, water, and a BIG DONKEY (bee doddy), who brayed most satisfactorily for us when startled by a brash motor vehicle roaring by on the tiny bog road. This by way of backdrop to the standard meetings, chattings, playings, charity coffee morning and kids' art auction, amateur film (featuring, among other things, Oisín being read to from his grandfather's recently launched novel), and wall-to-wall cousinry - many of whom were more than happy to play with the Oyster for hours on end. It was magic.

[ETA: Can't believe I forgot to mention our daytrip to Aran, where we saw seals and took tea with ailbhe's mother (whom Oisín recognised as an ally within about 15 seconds). It rained steadily for most of the afternoon, so we didn't really see any Sights, but it was lovely nonetheless. We'll have to go back for longer some time.]

Owing mainly to the on-tap toddler-surveillance, I read MOST OF A NOVEL in, like, five days! This is, in my current routine, unheard-of (a circumstance that pains me more than somewhat). The feat is even more remarkable given that the book in question was the not un-bricklike Jonathan Strange and Mr Norrell, which has left me agog with admiration (yes, OK, and a degree of envy - first novel, frazza-razza - but it's a motivator, so that's all right).

Oisín returned to our urban stronghold thoroughly convinced that he really ought to be allowed out the garden gate to explore at will, which given the road we live on is unfortunate. He's fenced in. This can only end on one of those trikes with the parental steering pole, which - OK, obviously they're safer and everything, but - make me sad.

Since we got back life has seemed inordinately busy. On Saturday I skipped choir rehearsal to go to a wedding, then went to the Sunday rehearsal (we're preparing for the Cork Choral Festival next weekend, so it's fairly frantic), after which I was so utterly exhausted that I went to bed when Oisín did, for the first time in ... probably over a year. I need to do that more often, but it completely wipes out my retire-and-regroup evening time, which I'm screamingly loth to give up.

Then yesterday, I met my boss to talk about taking on some freelance work (yay! luchre!), then had lunch with my colleagues before going to get my head shrunk, then home, dinner, and a gaming session. Then a horribly wakeful night. So ... actually it's not all that surprising that I've been feeling like DEATH MICROWAVED all day today.

Nevertheless, life is basically good. Perhaps now I've broken the ice, I'll post again soonish.

* Really, actually, literally about 80, not just comic-exaggeration-80. As long-time readers may remember, we do this every Easter.

Comments

[felinitykat]

It's yoouuuu! I've missed you (not that I am one to talk about posting regularly).

(Please tell niallm that his calendar is very useful indeed, as well as lovely to look at, and thoroughly beats the 2003 one I had before that I was always too lazy to replace. Hurrah for serendipitous presents.)

[mollydot.livejournal.com]

Tell him I've had admiration and questions in work, where I have mine.