Arts & threads

Yesterday we ticked off our latest opera experience, The Cunning Little Vixen by Leoš Janáček. Wasn't quite sure what to expect; I didn't know the venue, Solstice Arts Centre in An Uaimh, nor the composer. It was thoroughly enjoyable, partly philosophical, partly hilarious, as it's not every day one can see opera singers performing in fox costumes.

I was wearing a new beanie that I'd finished knitting last weekend. In my head it's supposed to be a hat with cat ears, but because of the colour and depending on the way I style it, the ears can resemble fox ears or even devil horns ;) Love it.

I chose this yarn colour to match my husband's beautiful present, woollen fingerless mittens I got in December. Unfortunately, over two weeks ago, on a lovely Friday afternoon, I lost one of the gloves matching the beanie, and now I still wear the one that's left, refusing to accept my loss. It was the same day when we went with my Fred to watch Hamnet (the film is absolutely fantastic!). 

Discussions, books, knitting, and films – that's how I spend my time outside of work. Also, I've discovered something completely new, which I hope to enjoy very much:

In the background, Clanbrassil street on Valentine's day:) The book's still waiting in a queue.

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!

In the starting blocks

The money was allocated to renovate our small house, that’s the news of the weekend – I found out yesterday while I was walking towards the beach. Hope it happens soon, as I’ve been battling with the front lock for the past several months.

Friday was my final day at the place where I started working four years ago, just after the lockdown year of 2020. The farewell "party" was short – grand, I'm not really one for those sorts of things. I don't think they've had anyone before who was so organized without being full-on OCD. Technology worked in my favour, with one click I shared via Microsoft OneDrive everything I’d been working on over the last few months, and that was that. No regrets about this job; I've learned a lot, it gave me some time to ponder what I'd like to do next, and now I'm happy to begin a new adventure.

As of late, I finished reading Norwegian Wood by Murakami; I found it to be quite pretentious, and moved with relief on to Jon Fosse's I is Another: Septology III-V. I read both books in Polish translation, but, as always, I think it would be interesting to compare them with the English versions, as both Japanese and Norwegian are all Greek to me ;) And yesterday my husband and I watched There Will Be Blood with Daniel Day-Lewis, a fantastic actor. I loved the slow-paced script.

Sunday has been rather laid-back so far. Fred cooked beef stew, and I haven't done anything practical, just blogging and thinking, letting my thoughts settle a bit before tomorrow. In the evening we plan to go to our friends' for a chat and maybe watch a film on Netflix.

Below, Friday's farewell Victoria sponge.

Walk to the shaggy dunes

The weekend has passed; this morning we changed the clocks for summer time. I wouldn't say it affects me negatively, but overall it feels like an unnecessary hassle.

Yesterday, around noon I watched A Haunting in Venice with Kenneth Branagh. We're all getting older – that's what I felt after seeing it. Later in the evening, we were at the Conrads and watched a surprisingly good Emilia Pérez. I hadn't bothered to follow the whole buzz around it during the Oscar season, because, honestly, who cares these days? Well, maybe someone does; I, for sure, grew out of it ages ago – all the campaigns are just too obvious, too cliché.

Today, finished reading Walked the Blue Fields by Keegan. Two stories stood out, The Parting Girl and The Forester's Daughter, very well written, surprising, beautiful and painful at the same time; but all in all, I'd say the first collection of stories was a bit better, more immersive. Of course, it could be the mood of the last few days that’s colouring my view.

To shake off some Sunday lethargy, I decided to go for a walk, and Fred joined in. I kept thinking about the plan I had to prepare for tomorrow morning, which bothered me, as it always does. So difficult to stay in the moment. And the moment was exceptional: sunny and warm, with the songs of spring all around. Our neighbour was outside with her dog, Lucy, so we said hello, chatted for a minute, and then went on our way. A lot of people at the beach. One Syrian woman had a cat on a lead. The cat’s name was Zizi. What a lovely little creature! She seemed to be thoroughly enjoying her time there – such a brave little animal. We ambled along to the shaggy dunes, where in the summer one can spot a colony of sand martins. The nests were still empty, waiting. Their rightful owners are surely getting closer every day, making their way from sub-Saharan wintering grounds.

Came back home only before five. I cooked, we ate, then we put our feet up and chilled.

Below, sand martins' colony, quiet at this time of year, and the dunes.

Waiting continues

For the last two days I was deep in Spare, Prince Harry’s memoirs. I vaguely remember it received significant criticism upon its publication. The book itself, penned by a ghostwriter of course, is average, but I found the insight into the royals’ lives and their (lack of) psychological development to be kind of fascinating. 

On Wednesday one of our older neighbours was taken to the hospital; we watched the entire procedure through the kitchen window. We were much closer a few years ago, but it changed last year when she ordered the plastering of a hole in the soffit where, for the last several years, there had been a nest of starlings. Her roof, her rights, but it enraged me when she pretended not to hear them there. The situation was resolved, the hole was unblocked for some time, allowing the offsprings to grow up and fly away, but my prejudice remained. I don't uderstand people who dislake animals, it's a warning sign that usually does not lie.

The hooded crows that have a nest near our garden definitely have taken over the area; yesterday watched as one of them, in a beautiful black and grey coat, chased a rook, that was trying to eat some fat balls left on the grass. 

Fred had his hair cut by moi. And we watched Live and Die in L.A. with William Peterson. But again, it was yesterday. Seems like nothing happened today. Went to work; finished reading the ebook, nothing new; still waiting for the news about the interview. 

Days of delights

After four weeks, I've returned to Monday/Tuesday shifts and found some positive changes. People who had always stirred problems disappeared from the landscape for good, and I enjoyed two days of pure relaxation (hope this mood to stay). Moreover, my husband had time to give me a lift in the morning and pick me up in the afternoon, so after each shift we could go together to our favourite coffee shop in Droichead Átha.

On Monday, I went to the library, provided proof of my identity and address and I was issued a library card for the year; it was all rather quick and straightforward, taking barely a minute.

Today, I had two pakcakes at work, with strawberries and fresh cream, because why not. And later, as we were leaving aforementioned coffee shop, we nearly bumped into Joe Rooney. I've never seen him performing on stage, but moments like this reassure me that the Ireland I know from Father Ted is real and present, albeit perhaps a bit more grown up. 

My second interview, which was meant to be today, has been postponed and I'm still awaiting further details, hoping the wait won't stretch out through the entire week.

In the evening we watched Woody Allen's Another Woman (1988). Hackman was in it, and I loved the references to Rilke (I'm still reading Herbert's biography), however towards the end the story felt more and more Americanish, which is not my cup of tea. 

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.

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.

Trudging through the weekend

Fred works 8/9 to 5 everyday until tomorrow, I'm spending the weekend mostly on my own, reading, writing, sleeping, thinking about the future (not really, or trying not to, as it doesn't help with my mood).

Yesterday I stumbled upon something exciting (it's never too late for a good discovery): found out that Agatha Christie: The ABC Murders with Malkovich is available on the RTÉ Player. As a fan of David Suchet's Poirot I can say that Sarah Phelp's approach (the screenwriter) was distinctive, but also quite enjoyable. Found the pace a bit too slow at the beginning, and the darkness and digitally enhanced scenography too much for my taste. But from the second episode I was more and more entertained by the gloomy atmosphere and some expected alterations to the plot. I cherish the educational touch to it as well, as I had no idea what the flash and circle pin meant. Well, now I know (thank you, Uncle Google). Funny (not) how the society keeps recycling old scripts these days.

In the evening, Fred and I watched Rory Gallagher: Calling Card, a documentary about this magnificent guitarist, featuring his brother Dónal, and other people recalling the artist, Brian May among them. Nothing big, but time well spent.

Rory, what an irish face, indeed:

This and that

We had a lovely time the day before yesteday. My husband was at the doctors', it was a quick check up that didn't explained anything. Well, no news is good news at times. We went to Dún Dealgan for lunch in our favourite coffee shop, just flat whites and pancakes with fruit and maple syrup (for me, his were with nutella and banana). Later we enjoyed a short walk to one book shop and back. Of course, we checked some Barker shoes in a shoe shop on the way, as we usually do. 

Yesterday was not too bad either. In the morning I had to go to work, but it didn’t spoil my day, Thursday's group is more mature and independent, I can relax and nurture a feeling of competence. Home life was comforting, even if some news was grim: in my family home the eldest of my parents’ dogs is not well. Changes like this are difficult. I rememeber her as a puppy with a wrinkled forehead. I'm worried that I won't see her again.

Below, the scene from our Wednesday's pet sitting pleasures; we were trying to watch Back to Black, but it wasn't a good film.

So, why do I insist on writing in English, when I don't have as many interesting things to say? At this point I don't know. It might have something to do with the year of changes, but currently I don't know what it means.