August

Many moons ago I was more eager to join different blog hops. Well, for five minutes this morning I wanted to I try it again, but no, makes no sense to me anymore. I don't care for answers to random questions about oysters, pearls, and the US inner world of delusions. What I can say for sure is I love August, a time of ripe fruit and lazy, warm afternoons, a time before going back to school, a quiet time. I like this quote:

"Minä rakastan rajoja", Tove sanoo. "Elokuu, joka on raja kesän ja syksyn välillä. Se on hienoin tuntemani kuukausi. Ensimmäinen muumipeikoista kertova kirja alkaa elokuussa, samoin myös 'Muumipappa ja meri'. Takurin hatun suuri juhla on sijoitettu lämpöiseen elokuun iltaan. Hämärä on rajana yön ja päivän välillä, ja ranta meren ja maan välillä. Rajat ovat kuin odotusta: kun molemmat ovat rakastuneita, mutta mitään ei ole lausuttu ääneen. Raja merkitsee matkalla oloa. Ja juuri matka on tärkeää." (Otta Latva, "Meri ja Tove. Elämää saaristossa")

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Middle of July we were in Poland for nearly ten days. It wasn’t a long stay, but still something I wouldn't have wanted to miss. We spent some time with my parents, but also went to the south of Lower Silesia to meet up with two blogging friends. One travelled over from Warsaw, the other welcomed the three of us into her home, picturesquely located close to the Czech border, just north of the Jizera Mountains (historically, the village was known as Mühldorf before 1945). The scent of wildflower meadows and freshly cut grass … a fox wandering near the garden in the early morning … a small stream lazily flowing along one side of the property. Kind of magical place, although I'm not sure I could live there on my own, as our hostess does ...

(below pictures are deliberately random, I won't label them, I don't feel like it today)

Last weekend we helped our friend’s niece get to Dublin to collect her classmate from the airport. It turned into a very interesting meeting, the two girls were full of laughter, curiosity and intelligence. Together we visited Glasnevin Cemetery, the botanical garden and Bruxelles pub (the pub and the food served there weren’t as good as I'd remembered from our previous visits). It was on Saturday. On Sunday the girls decided to stay at home, watch a volleyball match and go to church. Our friend seemed a little disappointed after hearing about the last (church) bit. Well, they're still very young and much under their parents' influence, probably haven't had much exposure to different ways of living yet.

(below, the cemetery, the botanical garden and a quick look at Faiche Stiabhna)

My Dad was supposed to have a procedure on his eye, which would have been something more like an operation surgery under anaesthetic. His eye has become crossed for some reason, the doctors suggested that one of the eye muscles got weaker and they believed they can fix it. Dad wasn't sure if he wanted to put himself through another procedure as he’s been dealing with a lot of more serious health issues lately. Luckily, another doctor checked Dad's CT scan and a new treatment option has come up, something less invasive.

I don't long for the busy September weekdays, let's stay in August for a while.

Work and beyond

Once again about work: indeed, things just aren't going my way. But somehow, I've already made peace with that. I've decided it's a sign, though I don't believe in signs. A sign of what, you may ask? That I'm still not working to my full potential, and instead on feeling stuck here, I should treat this as a part of a journey. So I will. I'm taking it day by day, like a proper zen queen, but I've got one eye open for new opportunities.

Below, the rest of the week in pictures: on Monday, we discovered a Mexican bistro; on Tuesday, girls on Fred's lap and an evening stroll to the beach in our village; on Wednesday, another new find, an Italian place that suits us both; on Friday, we went to see Mackbeth at the Gaiety Theatre, so there's a glimpse inside the Gaiety, just before the play began, and a late-night view of a Dublin street; on Saturday, after a bit of rain, golden delicious apples glistening in the garden; today, Little Mary with her daddy.

Dublin zoo

What an absolutely splendid day. I felt much better than yesterday, though sleep was still rather elusive. The weather was lush, and we decided to make good use of it. I left Fred to decide for himself where he fancied taking me. Dublin Zoo, he said. We sauntered around for three hours. I’m not massively into the whole wild-animals-in-captivity thing, but the walk was really enjoyable and I'd count the whole escapade as a lovely way to spend the afternoon. Plus, we'd taken great care to style our outfits properly for the occasion (btw, Fred gave me a present: a black and white square scarf printed with moths, made of silk, by All Saints).

What I love most about this place is how green it is, with plenty of trees, and how spacious most of the enclosures are – the animals can actually hide from visitors if they want to, which in my opinion is exactly how it should be.

After the visit, we devoured pizzas at Milano in Blanchardstown, barely chatting (we didn't realise how hungry we were).

Below, red panda tucked away in a tree, my favourite place: the giraffes enclosure next to the rhinoceros (not visible in the photo), the comparison between humans and the western lowland gorillas, and their "island" in the last photo (there's one gorilla in the background, hardly visible, with its back to me).

From Saturday to Sunday

Saturday was calm and uneventful. Talked to my neighbour, knowing I would need a lift the next day (her mum is coming from the USA to visit in a few days, I hope to meet her). Listened to the audiobook Moscow-Petushki, a prose by Venedikt Yerofeyev from around 1969-70, very moving. I watched the interview with Rosie O'Donnell who recently immigrated to Ireland. Good luck for her, I believe it's a great place to be.

Sunday, on the other hand, was a day of earthly delights. Anne drove me to town, and I waited for Fred to clock off. Of course, I went to the coffee shop, and waited while reading the next book. There was enough time to finish Włodek Goldkorn's prose on the Shoa and start something else, another one of Keegan's story collections. I was already in my fancy shoes and coat, Fred had to change, but it didn't take him long and from Droichead Átha we could go to Dublin.

Ah, Richard Wagner! It was a very interesting interpretation of The Flying Dutchman, with Giselle Allen as Senta; we rarely listen to Wagner, and still, we were both impressed.

Below, we're going back to the car left on Hanover St East, admiring Dublin architecture at night.

Shopping frenzy

We had no plans in the morning, it just popped up sometime around the very nutricious breakfast of own my production. Actually, for a brief moment I fancied a trip to Dún Dealgan for a coffee and some pancakes with maple syrup, but then I thought: why not Dublin? So, off we went.

We parked at the Connolly Station car park and from there we walked to Dublin 2 visiting Tower Records at 40 O'Connell St Lower along the way. This first visit was very fruitful, we bought two DVD's (The Seventh Seal and In Bruges) and six CD's, most of them by Billy Joel. I noticed that Small Things Like These with Cillian Murphy is already available on DVD, fantastic film, what a pity it's not more widely known. We also visited Tower Records at 7 Dawson St, on the other side of the Liffey, but our finds there were modest in comparison. I bought three books at Hodges Figgis, so happy! The pile of books on my nightstand is quite large, but I hope I’ll manage to read them this year. 

Dublin 1 was loud, crowded with weird folks, litter everywhere. It’s interesting to watch it, walk it, observe people swirling about, but wouldn’t want to stay there for good. Dublin 2 has a different, more friendly vibe. Btw, do you know (whoever is reading this) that Dublin is called Baile Átha Cliath in the Irish language?

Below: Fred walking in front of me under the North Wall, Tower Records' treasures, who do we have here? Mr. Bloom?, lunch at Bruxelles, and my precious books.

A week of staying positive

On Monday I finished listening to Keegan's Foster read by Aoife McMahon.

On Tuesday we watched My Left Foot with Daniel Day-Lewis. Still, not too bad. 

On Wednesday my husband booked two plane tickets to Frankfurt-Hahn. It will be a short, March weekend visit to one of the wee towns am Rhein in western Germany. I can hardly wait, a little hotel has also been booked by now.

On Thursday I borrowed Spare, an ebook by Harry Mountbatten-Windsor. It will be an easy read.

Today, a lovely Valentine's lunch in Da Mimmo, a tiny Italian restaurant in Northside Dublin. It was my present for us, as I tend to forget special occasions like this, and Fred gave me a lot of presents in the morning (Polo Ralph Lauren striped cable-knit pull-on sweater skirt, Sprayway Era Gore-Tex Jacket, Majestic Filatures linen coat). Staying positive, trying not to dwell on my husband's two recent hospital visits (a CT scan on Tuesday and a blood test today), there isn't really much to discuss: we were in Beaumont Hospital for an hour altogether, our lunches following both visits were far more interesting and uplifting.