Our Judy hits a significant birthday this month. My inner ‘don’t say that’ alarm has finally started to work – after donkeys’ years of embarrassing people by innocently revealing things which are - to some – private. Now I just stick all those things in my stories/novels and they have to be read to discover what page said revelation is on!
Our Judy is much quieter than me. She is also very beautiful. I was insanely jealous of her when we were growing up. When we were small, people in the neighbourhood would actually stop my mother in the street as we toddled after her and the pram which contained whoeverhappenedtobethebaby that year. They would smile at us all but their glances lingered longer on Judy. ’She’s so cute – you have to enter her into the bonny baby competition!’
So Mam did – she got someone who possessed a camera to come and take our photos and she sent one of Judy off to the ‘Pond’s Cold Cream’ sponsored competition. And our Judy won a prize! Whatever it was or where she was placed in the competition is long lost in the annals of family history but it was official - Judy was (still is) beautiful.
So my jealousy melted away or rather I accepted facts – she was officially beautiful. When we started school I became officially ‘the bright one’; although Judy’s no eejit – in fact academically she always scored higher than me – but I bullshit better! We killed each other until our late teens; hands on hair-pulling, scabbing, kicking physical fights and the incredible bitchiness of teenage girls resulting from the sheer frustration at having to live with each other’s entirely different personalities.
I’m the oldest and bossy with it and Judy baulked at the notion of being told what to do by a sibling who had been left in charge of a household teeming with kids while parents worked. I would get frustrated at having to do ‘everything’ myself because I wanted things to be nice for Mam when she came home. Judy did her chores, but in her own time and her own way. I remember saying to Mam at one stage ‘I envy Judy. She does things becsuse she wants to. I do them because I think I have to.’ So Judy got the Art of Zen long before me – she lived it.
I have been thinking a lot lately about mindfulness, of being aware of living every moment, of simply being in any particular moment, of breathing and being aware that in order to live breathing is all I have to do. Of realising that I am part of something that is infinite and that my role for now in that infinity is breathing in and out of the body that has been assigned to me. Judy lives this – always has. Jemser epitomises it - he’s been telling me it for years but I had to find out for myself and label it in my own way – when I said this to him the other night he laughed and said in his case it could be called ‘mindlessness’.
When Judy and I started getting drunk together in our late teens/early twenties we told each other how much we loved each other despite our differences and things settled down. We found partners, had children around the same time and drift in and out of each other’s lives a few times every year. Judy is still extraordinarily beautiful, she always looked after her skin, she has a calmness about her - but also a fiery streak that can be roused and woe betide the arouser! She is wonderful and I feel very privileged to be her big sister – even though I know I’m ‘not the boss’ of her! Love you Juders!
Sunday, April 15, 2012
Thursday, March 29, 2012
Tyrone Guthrie Centre blog#3
Another glorious day in Co. Monaghan. The drumlins are ablaze with furze bushes and the countryside resplendent with goat willow and rowan flower. It was a little cooler today but still sunny enough to ramble about in a tee-shirt. I ‘discovered’ the conservatory which I didn’t know existed and was delighted to see a passionflower trained up a gorgeous stone wall and some variegated perlagonium full bloom – I sat there reading and writing for a good while – did some good work on Daisy Killer plus fleshed out a short story; to be shaved back brutally at some later stage.
Lavinia continues to encourage me to be fatter – divine potato cakes for breakfast with (I think) shavings of scallions in them. N’yum. Lots of lovely cold meats, salad; including ‘real’ lettuce (as per Jemser) – home grown butterhead. Both meals shared with lovely interesting company. I know ye all think I’m mad and talk too much and stuff. But a lot of these lovely ‘artistes’ are the same. So we all speak the same language albeit in slightly different accents and disciplines. I have never met a person in this house that I was uneasy with. It is home.
After lunch the Story Queen appeared on the lawn in front of the house (singing ‘Nellie the Elephant’ off-key) as she approached and talked and read stories to Lavinia’s wee boys – two dotes. Luke was well enthralled – loved ‘Owl Babies’ and took ‘The Gruffalo' away with him. Lavinia’s heart will be scalded reading it to him for the next few years!!
Then HRH waved goodbye and wandered away singing ‘the wonderful thing about Tiggers’ and decided she would like to have her picture taken riding the lovely girly 1930’s style bike in the conservatory. Esther obliged as camerawoman and Lavinia’s boys were delighted when HRH almost crashed into a garden bed. Much hilarity ensued.
Back to work then and the treatment for the animated feature I’m collaborating on with the lovely Karen was polished up to our satisfaction – well, near enough. So off it will go with a kiss and a wish into the big bad world to see can we get a bite from some nice big fish in the world of animation. I shed emotional tears over a few scenes and laughed at others – but then I am ridiculously emotional and sentimental. Here’s hoping. We had great fun doing it anyway.
A walk around the grounds and back in for one of Lavinia’s legendary dinners where serendipity and crazy crazy co-incidences were discussed – with much laughter . Another successful night. Some have drifted off now to work, others to read or watch a movie. There appears to be some wine-supping going on in the kitchen, but I’m just too tired. Me! Too tired to drink!
There was some suggestion of Scrabble earlier – but these are seriously brainy people and I’m just not competitive enough. I’ll sit here in my lovely room, listen to John Prine, check Facebbok and Twitter, ring my babies and after a nice long bath will head to the leaba with a good book – there is a houseful to choose from.
‘Night x
Lavinia continues to encourage me to be fatter – divine potato cakes for breakfast with (I think) shavings of scallions in them. N’yum. Lots of lovely cold meats, salad; including ‘real’ lettuce (as per Jemser) – home grown butterhead. Both meals shared with lovely interesting company. I know ye all think I’m mad and talk too much and stuff. But a lot of these lovely ‘artistes’ are the same. So we all speak the same language albeit in slightly different accents and disciplines. I have never met a person in this house that I was uneasy with. It is home.
After lunch the Story Queen appeared on the lawn in front of the house (singing ‘Nellie the Elephant’ off-key) as she approached and talked and read stories to Lavinia’s wee boys – two dotes. Luke was well enthralled – loved ‘Owl Babies’ and took ‘The Gruffalo' away with him. Lavinia’s heart will be scalded reading it to him for the next few years!!
Then HRH waved goodbye and wandered away singing ‘the wonderful thing about Tiggers’ and decided she would like to have her picture taken riding the lovely girly 1930’s style bike in the conservatory. Esther obliged as camerawoman and Lavinia’s boys were delighted when HRH almost crashed into a garden bed. Much hilarity ensued.
Back to work then and the treatment for the animated feature I’m collaborating on with the lovely Karen was polished up to our satisfaction – well, near enough. So off it will go with a kiss and a wish into the big bad world to see can we get a bite from some nice big fish in the world of animation. I shed emotional tears over a few scenes and laughed at others – but then I am ridiculously emotional and sentimental. Here’s hoping. We had great fun doing it anyway.
A walk around the grounds and back in for one of Lavinia’s legendary dinners where serendipity and crazy crazy co-incidences were discussed – with much laughter . Another successful night. Some have drifted off now to work, others to read or watch a movie. There appears to be some wine-supping going on in the kitchen, but I’m just too tired. Me! Too tired to drink!
There was some suggestion of Scrabble earlier – but these are seriously brainy people and I’m just not competitive enough. I’ll sit here in my lovely room, listen to John Prine, check Facebbok and Twitter, ring my babies and after a nice long bath will head to the leaba with a good book – there is a houseful to choose from.
‘Night x
Wednesday, March 28, 2012
Another beautiful day in rural Ireland........
Another glorious day in Newbliss. I knew the weather forecast was good and that Jemser and son#2 were coming up for a visit to celebrate his ‘not making my confirmation’ day. So I got up a 6am and the view of the mist over the estate was breathtaking. Then a cuppa tae and some fruit and down to work. Got the treatment for the animated feature I’m collaborating on completed to my relative satisfaction and tidied it up and sent it off.
Down to the kitchen around 9am and a lovely healthy breakfast before a quick stroll around the grounds. Back to the laptop and I did a few hours work on Daisy Killer my new novel. I rambled the few kilometres into Newbliss where I met my lovely men and a deliriously excited Molly – she almost licked the face off me. We bought the makings of a picnic and drove back to the house. The place bowled the lads over as I knew it would and I introduced them to those we met. We sat in the sun in the grounds and had our picnic; then strolled down to the lake. There was no debate as to swimming – no way was son#2 getting in – he decided there were definitely fish in it and quite possibly some sort of Loch Annamakerrig Nessie. Mind you he threw poor Molly in – and she had a grand little swim for herself. Then we walked back through the wood and the gents took their leave of me. Son#2 was really delighted to see me and where I was staying – he only has four more days now to wait until I’m home.
I set him a series of tasks to do for me, he’s a great P.A. – he’s booked Ryanair flights for myself himself and his cousin Oscar for a few days in the sun in Spain in late June. As soon as I get my website up and running he’s going to maintain it for me, reply to mails, post books etcetera. Handy having a twelve year old genius in the house!
When they left I came back to my room to work – but honestly it was too nice a day to be indoors – so I took some of my research books and a notebook and worked for an hour or two in the sun – actually I fell asleep for the last half hour of that! So refreshed after my nap I came back to the house and did some really good work – although that opinion might be reviewed when I re-read it in a month’s time. Time for dinner then – which was of course divine. Lavinia thinks she hasn’t done her job properly unless we leave the house weighing half a stone more than we did when we landed. And all in the company of lovely warm quirky people. Now for some strong keep me awake coffee and I intend doing another few hours work.
It’s all going really well – but then this place is magical. If you ever, ever get the chance to visit grab it with both hands.
Down to the kitchen around 9am and a lovely healthy breakfast before a quick stroll around the grounds. Back to the laptop and I did a few hours work on Daisy Killer my new novel. I rambled the few kilometres into Newbliss where I met my lovely men and a deliriously excited Molly – she almost licked the face off me. We bought the makings of a picnic and drove back to the house. The place bowled the lads over as I knew it would and I introduced them to those we met. We sat in the sun in the grounds and had our picnic; then strolled down to the lake. There was no debate as to swimming – no way was son#2 getting in – he decided there were definitely fish in it and quite possibly some sort of Loch Annamakerrig Nessie. Mind you he threw poor Molly in – and she had a grand little swim for herself. Then we walked back through the wood and the gents took their leave of me. Son#2 was really delighted to see me and where I was staying – he only has four more days now to wait until I’m home.
I set him a series of tasks to do for me, he’s a great P.A. – he’s booked Ryanair flights for myself himself and his cousin Oscar for a few days in the sun in Spain in late June. As soon as I get my website up and running he’s going to maintain it for me, reply to mails, post books etcetera. Handy having a twelve year old genius in the house!
When they left I came back to my room to work – but honestly it was too nice a day to be indoors – so I took some of my research books and a notebook and worked for an hour or two in the sun – actually I fell asleep for the last half hour of that! So refreshed after my nap I came back to the house and did some really good work – although that opinion might be reviewed when I re-read it in a month’s time. Time for dinner then – which was of course divine. Lavinia thinks she hasn’t done her job properly unless we leave the house weighing half a stone more than we did when we landed. And all in the company of lovely warm quirky people. Now for some strong keep me awake coffee and I intend doing another few hours work.
It’s all going really well – but then this place is magical. If you ever, ever get the chance to visit grab it with both hands.
Tuesday, March 27, 2012
Where to start.....Life is Beautiful
Right – where do I start? Last weekend was the perfick weekend – in that I had pints with Jemser of the Friday, after swimmin’ with son#2 for (I think) ten lengths.
Then of the Saturday I did Story Queen in Blanch Library to a most appreciative audience.
Then Sunday and Oor Lizzie was christened over in Sandymount – fandabbydouble dozy church, Star of the Sea. Lovely priest and lots of friendly people doing biccies and tea in the now disused old NS beside the Church - lots of lovely chats with lovely Sandymount people. Don Liam Walsheone – the godfather got the pressie so-o-o-o- right – a reconditioned MAGNIFICENT Silver Cross pram. I always said the proudest days of my life were my pram pushing days - I was a Mammy - somebody's favourite person. I miss my pram pushing days. Anyway, I am going to kidnap both pram and baby some day this summer. She will be pushed all around Swords/Malahide/Finglas anywhere I can push her - not very bus friendly the aul' Silver Cross - but deadly suspension. Plus if it's good enough for HRH in Great Britain it's good enough for oor Lizzie. Then off to Roly's Bistro for the christening lunch - feckin' gorgeous. How did the Walshies end up dining in such a gaff? Plus very very reasonable per head. Mind you I wasn't paying, lovely to be with so many family on such a lovely summer's day - and it only March.
Then on Monday I was tortured into coming to the most peaceful place on any planet – the Tyrone Guthrie in Annamakerrig, Newbliss Co Monaghan. God,t'was hard leaving work and housework for a week to come to the most beautiful place on earth (after Port, Co Donegal of course), miss the lads and Jemser and Molly but as I drove up the avenue I felt like I was coming home…I love it. And then to be spoiled rotten by the lovely Lavinia, Robbie, Esther et all - I might have to kill Lavinia though, or at least disable her cooking skills - her desserts are just too scrumptious. I think she might be a devilish imp in disguise tempting me with glorious food. Kidding - how could anyone be cross with Lavinia!
But I did a 6k walk (or ramble) into Newbliss today - the weather was quite simply too beautiful not to go out, I don't care about word count - good days don't come often in this aul' bog we live on. There are Donegal connected Yanks home and they are claiming credit for the weather. I'm glad Anne Behringer and her daughter Debbie's lads got to see Donegal in the sun - they might just keep coming with their own kids in the future. Cherish our 'diaspora' folks - it'll be what saves us financially.
Now - tomorrow Weds is the Confirmation day in son#2's school. He decided last summer he didn't want to make it so I supported him in his decision, but I think he might be feeling a little lonely tomorrow, he misses me (yes - still!) - all of his classmates are having days being spoiled by their families and neighbours (not to mention the cash!) so Jemser and I hatched a plan and they're driving up to meet me in Newbliss for lunch and we might chance a swim in the lake - if son#2 doesn't wimp out!
The work is getting done - just at slightly unusual hours - almost finished treatment for collaborative exercise with Karen Coleman - songwriter supreme, novel #2 taking shape and hatching a lovely plot for novel#3 - a ghost lover in an artist's retreat........h'mm plus polishing a couple of stories and a children's book. And then there's sleep, reading and eating.
Night night.
Then of the Saturday I did Story Queen in Blanch Library to a most appreciative audience.
Then Sunday and Oor Lizzie was christened over in Sandymount – fandabbydouble dozy church, Star of the Sea. Lovely priest and lots of friendly people doing biccies and tea in the now disused old NS beside the Church - lots of lovely chats with lovely Sandymount people. Don Liam Walsheone – the godfather got the pressie so-o-o-o- right – a reconditioned MAGNIFICENT Silver Cross pram. I always said the proudest days of my life were my pram pushing days - I was a Mammy - somebody's favourite person. I miss my pram pushing days. Anyway, I am going to kidnap both pram and baby some day this summer. She will be pushed all around Swords/Malahide/Finglas anywhere I can push her - not very bus friendly the aul' Silver Cross - but deadly suspension. Plus if it's good enough for HRH in Great Britain it's good enough for oor Lizzie. Then off to Roly's Bistro for the christening lunch - feckin' gorgeous. How did the Walshies end up dining in such a gaff? Plus very very reasonable per head. Mind you I wasn't paying, lovely to be with so many family on such a lovely summer's day - and it only March.
Then on Monday I was tortured into coming to the most peaceful place on any planet – the Tyrone Guthrie in Annamakerrig, Newbliss Co Monaghan. God,t'was hard leaving work and housework for a week to come to the most beautiful place on earth (after Port, Co Donegal of course), miss the lads and Jemser and Molly but as I drove up the avenue I felt like I was coming home…I love it. And then to be spoiled rotten by the lovely Lavinia, Robbie, Esther et all - I might have to kill Lavinia though, or at least disable her cooking skills - her desserts are just too scrumptious. I think she might be a devilish imp in disguise tempting me with glorious food. Kidding - how could anyone be cross with Lavinia!
But I did a 6k walk (or ramble) into Newbliss today - the weather was quite simply too beautiful not to go out, I don't care about word count - good days don't come often in this aul' bog we live on. There are Donegal connected Yanks home and they are claiming credit for the weather. I'm glad Anne Behringer and her daughter Debbie's lads got to see Donegal in the sun - they might just keep coming with their own kids in the future. Cherish our 'diaspora' folks - it'll be what saves us financially.
Now - tomorrow Weds is the Confirmation day in son#2's school. He decided last summer he didn't want to make it so I supported him in his decision, but I think he might be feeling a little lonely tomorrow, he misses me (yes - still!) - all of his classmates are having days being spoiled by their families and neighbours (not to mention the cash!) so Jemser and I hatched a plan and they're driving up to meet me in Newbliss for lunch and we might chance a swim in the lake - if son#2 doesn't wimp out!
The work is getting done - just at slightly unusual hours - almost finished treatment for collaborative exercise with Karen Coleman - songwriter supreme, novel #2 taking shape and hatching a lovely plot for novel#3 - a ghost lover in an artist's retreat........h'mm plus polishing a couple of stories and a children's book. And then there's sleep, reading and eating.
Night night.
Tuesday, March 20, 2012
Mam
Today is the twenty-first anniversary of Mam's death. And the pain is still as raw and gaping as it was on that day. Oh I've learned to live with it - but part of me is missing. I've tried to live my life in honour of hers since her death, for she loved life, was full of it - laughing, smiling, mischievous, loving - she had the biggest heart and always had time for everyone. Her only fault a quick temper - but it passed as quickly as it brewed. She was mad about Dad but they had tough times - too little money, too many kids and demands pulling from everywhere. A Church that had too much influence on a young State did not make things easy. They were a passionate couple and passion doesn't always make the best marriage. But they did their best.
The day Mam died Dad shouted at me 'You don't understand! My life is over!Over!' His heart was broken, his spirit destroyed. He had just 'gotten her back' from the rearing of their brood, he had retired early from the Gardai and they had been talking about relocating to Wexford, his home town - perhaps starting a little fabric shop. Mam loved material, sewing, fashion and had worked all her life as a sales assistant in shops like Cassidys and Hickeys. She made us all lovely clothes (of which we were not in the least bit grateful - or not grateful enough anyway). I had home made hotpants, maxi dresses, angel tops, dresses for special occasions. When I'd moan 'I've nothing to wear' she'd call me 'the best dressed girl in the County Council' when I'd nag her into helping me pick some fabric and pattern and then into making it for me.
I was too shy to go into the open changing rooms in shops then. I hated my big angular body. I was five foot nine and a half and about ten stone on a big frame. I was an awful eejit.The only bit of me I liked was my back - the skin was sallow and flawless so Mam made me occasion dresses to celebrate that. If Mam said I looked fabulous I almost believed her. I never believed anyone else.And I certainly didn't trust my own judgement. I was the oldest, the fat one, specky four eyed bossy know-it-all. Oh what fools we are in youth!And oh how sorry I feel for that young girl/woman - I wish I could wrap mt arms around her - tell her she is wise and strong and compassionate. That she will meet and mate with a good, good man and have the babies she yearned for, that she would find her voice and use it to tell the truth and above all that people would (eventually) understand her.
My Mam made me. And she did a good job. My flaws are the mistakes I made when I deviated from the path she set me on or when I neglected my father's mantra of 'tell the truth'. I miss you Mam, I love you and your DNA is carried on in all of us, in all our children and eventually in their children. In this way you will be with us forever.
x
Evelyn
The day Mam died Dad shouted at me 'You don't understand! My life is over!Over!' His heart was broken, his spirit destroyed. He had just 'gotten her back' from the rearing of their brood, he had retired early from the Gardai and they had been talking about relocating to Wexford, his home town - perhaps starting a little fabric shop. Mam loved material, sewing, fashion and had worked all her life as a sales assistant in shops like Cassidys and Hickeys. She made us all lovely clothes (of which we were not in the least bit grateful - or not grateful enough anyway). I had home made hotpants, maxi dresses, angel tops, dresses for special occasions. When I'd moan 'I've nothing to wear' she'd call me 'the best dressed girl in the County Council' when I'd nag her into helping me pick some fabric and pattern and then into making it for me.
I was too shy to go into the open changing rooms in shops then. I hated my big angular body. I was five foot nine and a half and about ten stone on a big frame. I was an awful eejit.The only bit of me I liked was my back - the skin was sallow and flawless so Mam made me occasion dresses to celebrate that. If Mam said I looked fabulous I almost believed her. I never believed anyone else.And I certainly didn't trust my own judgement. I was the oldest, the fat one, specky four eyed bossy know-it-all. Oh what fools we are in youth!And oh how sorry I feel for that young girl/woman - I wish I could wrap mt arms around her - tell her she is wise and strong and compassionate. That she will meet and mate with a good, good man and have the babies she yearned for, that she would find her voice and use it to tell the truth and above all that people would (eventually) understand her.
My Mam made me. And she did a good job. My flaws are the mistakes I made when I deviated from the path she set me on or when I neglected my father's mantra of 'tell the truth'. I miss you Mam, I love you and your DNA is carried on in all of us, in all our children and eventually in their children. In this way you will be with us forever.
x
Evelyn
Monday, March 19, 2012
Ditch Cassidy and angels' voices
I haven't been out at night much for the last fifteen years - too busy working, minding me wains and reading to be bothered leaving my comfy couch at the end of a long day to struggle through a packed pub where one has to compete with blaring music or bloody sport on TV to chat to friends.
But for the last few months I have taken to joining Jemser on the odd Sunday night in a pub called 'The Slaughtered Lamb' in Swords, ( built on the site of what was once an abattoir) known locally as 'The Lamb'. The bigger lounge in the back caters for the younger crowd, bands and loud music and scantily clad young women - it also attracts a large Easter European crowd - our lovely new Irish who keep our little town going. It is in the smaller bar to the front that myself and Jemser go. The clientele in the Lamb is as varied as the band members of Ditch Cassidy's band - a lot of the audience members of the same age profile Jemser and I belong to , and a nice healthy smattering of younger people who just enjoy a great night's music.
Ditch Cassidy is something of a legend in Dublin - he has been fronting bands singing blues/soul/rock since the 1960s - his voice has that lovely raspy wellworn quality neccessary for a singer in this genre. He works with two other musicians (sorry lads - didn't catch your names ) a fantastic lead guitar who loves the instrument he plays and a solemn sweet young dreadlocked bass player completes the eclectic trio. They bring the house down every night they play (mostly Sundays from 9.30pm on).
Last night Ditch called on a young woman Ciara Moran to sing a few numbers. Jesus! The hairs on the back of my neck stood up! You know the feeling you get when you are in the presence of greatness? Well, Ciara Moran's rendition of 'Somewhere over the Rainbow' gave me that - it was in-bloody-credible, and if her full time job is not somewhere in the music business it should be. A name to listen for folks. Definitely.
But for the last few months I have taken to joining Jemser on the odd Sunday night in a pub called 'The Slaughtered Lamb' in Swords, ( built on the site of what was once an abattoir) known locally as 'The Lamb'. The bigger lounge in the back caters for the younger crowd, bands and loud music and scantily clad young women - it also attracts a large Easter European crowd - our lovely new Irish who keep our little town going. It is in the smaller bar to the front that myself and Jemser go. The clientele in the Lamb is as varied as the band members of Ditch Cassidy's band - a lot of the audience members of the same age profile Jemser and I belong to , and a nice healthy smattering of younger people who just enjoy a great night's music.
Ditch Cassidy is something of a legend in Dublin - he has been fronting bands singing blues/soul/rock since the 1960s - his voice has that lovely raspy wellworn quality neccessary for a singer in this genre. He works with two other musicians (sorry lads - didn't catch your names ) a fantastic lead guitar who loves the instrument he plays and a solemn sweet young dreadlocked bass player completes the eclectic trio. They bring the house down every night they play (mostly Sundays from 9.30pm on).
Last night Ditch called on a young woman Ciara Moran to sing a few numbers. Jesus! The hairs on the back of my neck stood up! You know the feeling you get when you are in the presence of greatness? Well, Ciara Moran's rendition of 'Somewhere over the Rainbow' gave me that - it was in-bloody-credible, and if her full time job is not somewhere in the music business it should be. A name to listen for folks. Definitely.
Saturday, March 17, 2012
St Patrick's Day in Swords Co. Dublin
I work alongside the events management staff of Fingal County Council and had to calm down some of my colleagues frazzled nerves yesterday. They were (of all things) worried about the weather for today's parade - the one thing they cannot control! So I assured them that by the sheer force of my will I would ensure that no rain fell in Swords between 10am and I.30pm! I was right! Mammy is always right.....
I had volunteered the Story Queen to tootle up and down Main Street talking to lots and lots of boys and girls ably assisted by my wonderful little pal Rachel Barker, who took the role of Princess Semolina. We had a basket full of St Patrick's Day lollipops which we distributed regally to all. Molly, my badly home-shorn bichon freise accompanied me with a lovely spray of bright green hair colour on the back. She was sumptuous and proud and a huge hit with the spectators. The Story Queen told the children that when she woke up that morning Molly had all this green spray on her and Ihe Queen got a frightful shock!
But Princess Semolina immediately knew what was wrong - 'Mama' she cried 'We must travel to Ireland - the green is a sign telling us to go!'' Well. I was terribly tired, I am 437 years old after all but Semolina was right and we hopped onto the next Space Shuttle (which is the second planet after the North Pole). We popped into Santa on the way and asked him to have a word with the clouds so that they might keep the rain away, Mrs Clause has just about recovered from the exhaustion she felt after Christmas and they are going to take a nice relaxing holiday next month.
So Princess Semolina, Molly and I chatted to beautifully decorated children up and down Swords Main Street, everyone there had made so much effort on their appearance. Everyone was happy and smiling and waving and clapping. I even got one or two little girls out to dance with me! A very nice Garda Siochana linked me for a few steps of little jig and I had my picture taken as I handed out lollipops to the wonderful Civil Defence people - who were petrified I might make them dance too!
The Parade proper started the with the Lord Mayor waving regally from an open top vintage car (my regal wave is of course the correct one - he was just imitating me) - there were football clubs, athletics clubs, dancing schools, all manner of wonderful floats and entertainment. Colleagues Caroline Bradley (who shaved her head last week and raised 1400 euro for cancer research) and Christine Mullen were exhibiting their wonderful photographs on the railings of County Hall - the staff of Fingal County Council are bursting with creativity and dedication to their community. I felt very very proud to say I worked for the Council today. And you will rarely hear me say that!
No staff member who partook today was paid overtime for their work. Some will be given time in lieu at some later date, others at higher levels regard it as part of their roles. We do take our jobs seriously citizens, we make mistakes but for the most part your public service is just that - there to serve you. And I'm your Queen!
It's St Patrick's Day - a day to dream and philosophize and we Irish do that so well! Maith Sinn.
I had volunteered the Story Queen to tootle up and down Main Street talking to lots and lots of boys and girls ably assisted by my wonderful little pal Rachel Barker, who took the role of Princess Semolina. We had a basket full of St Patrick's Day lollipops which we distributed regally to all. Molly, my badly home-shorn bichon freise accompanied me with a lovely spray of bright green hair colour on the back. She was sumptuous and proud and a huge hit with the spectators. The Story Queen told the children that when she woke up that morning Molly had all this green spray on her and Ihe Queen got a frightful shock!
But Princess Semolina immediately knew what was wrong - 'Mama' she cried 'We must travel to Ireland - the green is a sign telling us to go!'' Well. I was terribly tired, I am 437 years old after all but Semolina was right and we hopped onto the next Space Shuttle (which is the second planet after the North Pole). We popped into Santa on the way and asked him to have a word with the clouds so that they might keep the rain away, Mrs Clause has just about recovered from the exhaustion she felt after Christmas and they are going to take a nice relaxing holiday next month.
So Princess Semolina, Molly and I chatted to beautifully decorated children up and down Swords Main Street, everyone there had made so much effort on their appearance. Everyone was happy and smiling and waving and clapping. I even got one or two little girls out to dance with me! A very nice Garda Siochana linked me for a few steps of little jig and I had my picture taken as I handed out lollipops to the wonderful Civil Defence people - who were petrified I might make them dance too!
The Parade proper started the with the Lord Mayor waving regally from an open top vintage car (my regal wave is of course the correct one - he was just imitating me) - there were football clubs, athletics clubs, dancing schools, all manner of wonderful floats and entertainment. Colleagues Caroline Bradley (who shaved her head last week and raised 1400 euro for cancer research) and Christine Mullen were exhibiting their wonderful photographs on the railings of County Hall - the staff of Fingal County Council are bursting with creativity and dedication to their community. I felt very very proud to say I worked for the Council today. And you will rarely hear me say that!
No staff member who partook today was paid overtime for their work. Some will be given time in lieu at some later date, others at higher levels regard it as part of their roles. We do take our jobs seriously citizens, we make mistakes but for the most part your public service is just that - there to serve you. And I'm your Queen!
It's St Patrick's Day - a day to dream and philosophize and we Irish do that so well! Maith Sinn.
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