Update

How was it possible I didn't post anything throughout the entire months of May and June? Let me catch up on a few things. My last post in April finished with a dramatic cliffhanger. It was about Anne, our old neighbour. She had been away for so long that we almost forgot about her. And then came the message about her departure from this world. We visited her grave some time later, a very picturesque graveyard with a view.

Both our girls were spayed at the end of April. It was a stressful time, but we got through it. The bald patches on their sides have almost disappeared.

In the meantime we bought tickets to spend some time in July at my family home. We also bought a new fridge — tiny in comparison with the trendy ones, a little black midget. We'd love to have a fridge without a freezer but it's not so easy to find a suitable one. It was necessary to buy it now, as during our holidays we'll have a pet sitter looking after the house.

Since the last post, I've finished reading ca. fifteen books, one of the best of them was Zyta Rudzka's Krótka wymiana ognia. So far only one book by Rudzka has been translated into English, Dr Josef's Little Beauty (I have it as an audiobook and plan to listen to it after our holidays).

June was taken over by builders. Several contractors are working on our little house. The heating system was modernized (we use a heat pump now), the windows and front door were replaced and they are still working on the insulation. Most of the time it's been a nightmare, they have already destroyed parts of our garden, and some eejits cut down the lavender that was growing close to the walls (I complained officially).

Anything else? ... Stay tuned ...

A windy Wednesday

For the past week or so, the days have seemed to repeat themselves: we work, we dine, we walk our cats. Around the weekend, the weather improved a little, though not by much; it was cold today. At night, when I have my socks on and can cuddle up against my husband’s warm back, I feel rich and successful.

It was a good day.

And then someone dies.

[early morning]

My urge to write in English seems to have faded for a while. Very strange, as I use it a good deal when I'm out and about. My Brain appears to have switched back to my mother tongue; most of my inner dialogue is now in that language. Perhaps it has something to do with the tension I feel around work. Again, not that it's especially difficult, but other people’s troubles weigh on me more than they should, to the point of insomnia. It's difficult to keep toxicity at bay. 

4:55 a.m. Time to go to sleep again.

Bronek died on Thursday.

Memory's a weird thing

Last Thursday was the third anniversary of my grandma Mary’s passing. I forgot about it, or rather, I’d pushed it out of my mind and didn’t remember until Tuesday.

Samhain and goodbye

Another week gone by, another month. We had a storm on Thursday, not as big as expected, just a regular Irish thing. It's much colder now. Samhain was rather loud – lots of fireworks in the surrounding neighbourhoods, it feels like it's worse every year. We had one trick-or-treater, it was our neighbours' grandchild, who decided to start his evening adventure with us. We weren't prepared, as we live in an area with mostly older people, but my husband acted quickly and found some German gingerbread cookies (thank you, Germans).

Last Sunday, my parents lost another member of their pet pack, their oldest cat, Maciej (Matthew). He was old, but his death was rather unexpected, he suddenly became weaker.  A very sad Sunday. I realised that I started blogging around the time we found Maciej at a cemetery, which is why I took so many photographs of him. It was sixteen years ago. Only sixteen years, but his whole life.

Easter holidays

Arrrrghgh, I spent the Easter holidays mostly on my own (I'm not counting the Dog). On Saturday evening, with clothes and laptops packed, we drove to Dún Dealgan to catch up with our friends before their trip to the Canary Islands. Fred was working that day, and again the next day, same today. It was raining (only now it's starting to clear up a bit), didn't feel like going outside; I'm bored.

Rang my parents yesterday morning to check how they were. They'd already had breakfast with święconka. I'm not sure if the food (eggs, bread, sausage, salt & butter) was actually blessed, maybe it was, though my parents aren't really firm believers and they usually don't attend Sunday Mass. I, on the other hand, didn't make anything special to eat; I left that chore to my husband, who'd cooked bigos and żurek earlier in the week. We brought all this food with us here, and I had both dishes on Sunday. Later, I watched a very interesting film, The Outrun (2024), with Saoirse Ronan. I recommended it to Fred, and we ended up watching it again together in the evening.

Side note: I tend to say "Happy Holidays" to people around Easter time, though I know it's not a typical greeting in English. In Polish language we have the phrase Wesołych świąt, which works well for both, Christmas and Easter, and for any other religious holiday that involves joy & happiness. I like the idea that people who hear the greeting can interpret it in their own way, depending on what kind of holy day they want to observe.

Sometime after breakfast, I was surprised to hear that Jorge Bergoglio, known as Pope Francis, had died that morning. Well, not really surprised – he had been in and out of the hospital over the past few weeks. His official opinions regarding the Russian invasion of Ukraine were abominable, but now the king is dead, long live the king. I'm sure I'll be hearing about this whole circus many more times yet.

So much for the religious subjects. From our bedroom window we have a clear view of the Croslieve Mountain, and a bit of Slieve Gullion to the left, partly hidden by the trees. I want to go out. Not tomorrow. Today!

The lesson

What's the lesson? It's better to do what you need to do prior to holidays, than leave your tasks until the last minute before going back to work. You don't want to find yourself scrambling to catch up over the weekend, right? Right. I did some paper work yesterday and today, because I'm learning the hard way ;)

Fred and I, we spent Saturday evening with our friend, in the final weekend of him being a grass widower. Happy time. We chatted about rats (real ones, smart animals) and politics (this awful situation with Zełenski, a war hero; the Orange man's enablers should be ashamed of themselves), but not in depth. I didn't want to see rat's dead body (not happy he was killed), and I wasn't interested in rewatching the Trump-Zełenski row stirred up by the unhinged human, who most likely never had to write a resume, having spent his whole career in his dad's company. Well, instead we watched a film by Emir Kusturica, On the Milky Road. Rather dissapointing, started off quite nicely, but turned into a piece of propaganda. Still, it was worth spending time in a good company, and then returning home in a thick, fairylike fog.

Today at home the whole day. Fred's cooking bigos. I talked to Mum on the phone, she sounded happy and interested, were exchanging news for almost half an hour. In the evening we watched The French Connection as our tribute to the late Gene Hackman. After all these years, it remains a great film. Gene turned 95 in January; was found dead last Wednesday, the cause of his passing is still a mystery. 

I have to be up early tomorrow, but don't feel like going to sleep just yet, want to sqeeze in some reading; Fred is busy in the kitchen.

Life isn't fair, but we're here after all

Friday was a splendid day, indeed. We used the perfect weather we were given for nothing and with my husband we strolled around the Head, over the cliffs as far as to the harbour and back. I took a lot of pictures and spotted several rabbits in a warren that I imagine to be Watership Down 2. Looking for rabbits always makes me happy like a kid.

Saturday started differently, the weather has changed, it was much darker and windy. We decided to stay at home for most of the day doing exactly zero of all the important stuff, and than drive to our friends, spend the evening with them, chatting about odds and ends, eating crackers and watching a film. It was a splendid plan, early afternoon with my hair freshly showered I was sitting in the bedroom and reading a book happy as a clam. Then I saw a message from home, my parents' lovely dog had had to be put down. Her name was Little Raspberry. No, it was not a small dog, but a gentle giant with a big mouth full of crocodile teeth. However, her name described her well. Little Raspberry is no more, and I am sad. I wanted to prepare myself for this, and I was sure I was doing pretty well. The tears are coming only when I start thinking about it for too long. The reality is I feel sorry for myself, because I am a thousand miles away, unable to control anything or to give peace and comfort to the people and other animals I consider to be my family. 

When I look at myself in the pictures from year 2010, taking care of this little bunch of fluffy monsters, Little Raspberry among them, I feel the burden of the passing time ... it's so weird, the passing time, so other-wordly.

Below: Little Raspberry, already grey and old, in March last year.