The Return

I wonder if I have any readers left? After a three month, self-imposed hiatus, that is. It was only supposed to be a little break and I would apologise for my absence had it not been so gloriously relaxing as it was. I all honesty, I probably would've been back sooner, but the weather. Man, oh man, the weather. It's been so typically non-irish, I've simply had to stay outside and enjoy it.

Sunset after a hot day

I've discarded all blog-related activity, and only dipping into Facebook and Twitter on my phone, leaving my laptop sitting on my desk gathering dust. It's been liberating. See, I started to stress and feel guilty for not blogging more often. I know, it's silly, it's only a blog and I hardly have thousands of followers hanging onto my every word, but still. I'm a worrier, I feel responsible for things I'm not necessarily responsible for at all. It's just me. But I have managed to teach myself to ignore those niggling feelings of guilt.

Taken at 10.30pm

On my Twitter travels I've met a namesake who lives in Sligo. Another poor Finnish woman lured here by a crafty Irishman. I've also met Jane, who lives on the other side of this little bay of water. On a clear day I could wave from my front porch and hope to be seen in Mayo.

Jane, I know you're out there!

I've enjoyed doing very little, lazing about and generally making the most of the summery weather. Barbecues, beers and merriment. Our collective midriffs are starting to move away from the six pack and edge towards a keg instead. I better dust off the old exercise bike again.

A light snack

I've felt old and young in one night, attending a friend's 21st birthday party. I've laughed until I was sore and stayed up until 7am on a very cold night it Dublin. I've attended an art exhibition opening, where I fell in love with one of the pieces, which is now hanging on our dining room wall. I've been going where the mood has taken me and put my "responsibilities" on the back burner. I've successfully recharged my batteries.

Tom surveying his kingdom

There is on piece of Really Big News. My favourite (and only) brother is finally getting married this September! We are all beyond excited, and you may expect plenty of wedding related blogging in the next few months. I will obviously need a dress, and I have decided on one, which unfortunately currently only exists in my head. I want a dress to match my prettiest shoes. Thankfully Teresa has been some sort of a wizard in spotting the right colour/style dress online, so I have nominated her as my personal online shopper.

Relax

So, that's it. It's raining here now, so I shall do a bit of hoovering, bit more reading and get the seabass out of the freezer ready for dinner. I'll see you around!

Questionable Festivities

There's been some reason for celebrations lately, hasn't there? First there was Easter, with bunnies and chocolate and the breaking of Lent for those who observe such customs. I don't. I don't like to deny myself anything, if at all possible.

Here in Ireland, we followed the long Bank Holiday weekend of easter with another long Bank Holiday weekend because it was the beginning of May. Cause for celebrations, no doubt. Locally, in my corner of the world, the May Bank Holiday weekend always plays host to the local Mussel Festival. Local pub, marquee or two, bucketloads of mussels, great chefs, live music and plenty to drink. My friend Kenneth was playing at the opening of the festival on friday, I'd say the festivities and the food rivalled that of a certain high-profile wedding that was going on at the same time in London.

I tried not to get caught up in the wedding hype but still found myself trying to catch a glimpse of Kate's wedding dress on colleague's iPad which was conveniently streaming live footage via Sky News. I loved her dress and her sister's dress. That evening, when calling into my neighbour's we watched the highlights and laughed when her son came in with the comment "William is punching way above his weight there". Which is true, he does look very horse-y. Harry on the other hand...

Then, from across the Big Pond came news that everyone's Number One Enemy, Osama Bin Laden has been sent to meet his maker by the US Navy SEALs. Seeing the footage of people celebrating made a little bit sick. I am in no way condoning what he did but celebrating someone's death in such a way made me uneasy. Eye for an eye and tooth for a tooth will leave us all being fitted for dentures and learning Braille. I know this quote by Martin Luther King Jr. has been bandied about a lot recently, but it does seem to capture the mood of a lot of people:

I mourn the loss of thousands of precious lives, but I will not rejoice in the death of one, not even an enemy. Returning hate for hate multiplies hate, adding deeper darkness to a night already devoid of stars. Darkness cannot drive out darkness: only light can do that. Hate cannot drive out hate: only love can do that.

I have been tempted to speculate whether or not this bit of news is actually an elaborate hoax cooked up by the White House/CIA/FBI/NSA/X-files/Aliens to boost Obama's popularity. Withholding any photographs while deliberating if it's appropriate to publish them (photos of dead bodies have been a permanent feature in any news cast for a while now, why so cautious about publishing these?), not that I have any interest in seeing them. The timing of his death, quite soon after the whole hoo-ha about his birth certificate. And loads more fuel to the conspiracy theory fire. 

Fighting fire with fire doesn't seem to be the best options, especially when you think of the explosive global political climate we are in now. Riots, revolutions, protests and such are happening globally. Taking such joy out of having killed a man (no matter how evil) seems to me a bit foolish. You're attracting the wrong kind of fans. The kinds who love to hate. 

I, on the other hand am wholeheartedly embracing the 4th of May as the important, international holiday that it is: Star Wars Day. I'm glad to see that the twitter hashtag #maythe4thbewithyou has overtaken the likes of #obl #binladen and anything else less celebratory. I think it may well be time to dig out the old DVDs and spend hours watching these sci-fi masterpieces. And just for clarification purposes, these masterpieces include episodes 4, 5 and 6. Episodes 1, 2 and 3 are not recognised in this household as Star Wars movies. The only good thing about them was Liam Neeson, and even he isn't brilliant enough to balance out the horror that is Jar Jar Binks. 

Ahem...

One measly post in the entire month of July? Shame on me. Just goes to show how easily my resolve to write something at least once a week crumbled like the last hob nob you fished out of the bottom of the packet of biscuits.

I have returned from spending time with my family, weighing a good few pounds more and having done some possibly irreversible damage to my already long-suffering liver. The wedding was a great do altogether, lasting all in all for about three days. It was great to see family I haven't seen in years but I must admit, 4 days staying in close proximity of each other did in fact confirm that I did make the right decision in moving out of the country. Some family members more so than others, but we'll leave the details open to speculation.

Booze and food. Staple summer holiday diet. I should've known where it all was heading when, on my arrival to my brother's house I was presented with a champagne breakfast. It was 8.30am on a Friday morning. In my defence, it was ridiculously hot. +32 being the average temperature in the shade for most of the time I was there. And everybody knows nothing quenches your thirst like a nice, ice cold beer on a hot summer's day. Or morning.

So in my post-holiday food and booze hangover I have resolved to start a Better Life. Vol. 317 by my calculations. In all seriousness, I am aware that largely this is due to me approaching 30, and starting to be painfully aware of the fact that I am not getting any younger (physically, that is, mentally I'm still somewhere between 13 and 18 depending on the day). More exercise, less crap food and most definitely less booze. That last bit might have to wait until the end of the summer. See how determined I am?

We'll see how it goes, but I'm starting to feel sorry for Mr S already. When I deny myself things it's usually him, who gets the brunt of my frustrations...