Tag Archive: Ireland


When in doubt, ask a seagull

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They seem very helpful. Other entertaining creatures at the Street Performance World Championship today included Pancho Libre from Mehico …

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Check out all those white pasty faces, in between the bright red ones…

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Greeny Green Forest

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When it’s too hot to type – and Irish people are in shock at prolonged sunshine – head into a shady, greeny, green wood.

Joining the circus

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Child #2 joins the circus. Funny, always thought that would be child #1. Who cowered at my leg at the sight of miniature pony. The only animal now at good old Fossett’s circus. Pretty sure I last went to see these guys when I was about her age.

Guess where I am?

Guess where I am?

Hint: It’s raining outside. And very green. And very freindly.

janet leigh

 

 

 

 

 

 

It’s generally kept under wraps, but many medical studies support my hypothesis. Jet lag Will KILL you. It will also cause you to feel like the inside of a carnival horse’s mouth, to confine you to a marshmallowy mental haze, to make outrageously nonsensical decisions, to use capital letters with abandon, and to exaggerate past the point of human decency.

Did the trip with the little ones, 5 or so days ago. Airport to airport, Sydney to Dublin, 27 hours. Or was it 29? This time they decided to hardly sleep AT ALL. Thanks dears. Super. Nooo Mum doesn’t need to sleep, would love to play more cards/ produce more playdough, more markers, green paper and a set of Rob the Robot programs I downloaded for you, on the down low. (Have always wanted to say that.) Sure lets get up again, and go talk to the crew. It’s fine that NEITHER of you eat ANY airplane food. That there’s another 12 hours to go on this flight. That the posh expensive muesli in the little takeaway bowls, even with extra cranberries from our stash, now tastes yucky. Apparently. Fantastic that a 1.5 hour movie  actually takes 6.25 hours to watch when the combined ages of your travelling companions equals 10.

Delightful that while waiting for flight #2, contents of our hand luggage  spread about departure gate, ready for repacking and disgarding (bye bye pricey uneaten muesli bowls); I desperately need to pee. Fine that my knowledge of this airport means that I know moving the carnival to the far away toilets is a logistical impossibility.  So legs crossed tighter til flight called, we board, take off, level out and I tear out of airplane seat to a toilet the size of a tissue box.

Super indeed, that my prized little bottle of  JETLAG CURE (Yes it works):  homeopathic remedy Cocculus 30C, has sprouted tiny white legs and slinked away from designated spot in hand luggage.

Marvelous that when we arrive Ireland is experiencing its first run of five consecutive sunny days since 1973 (Tric was right), and I’m too foggy to take it in. When I start to become slightly conscious again, the rain and wind has returned. Thanks. Lovely. As well as bright idea of mine to bring the children to a play centre. On a weekend. Seriously? Hundreds of rugrats, birthday parties, screaming, jumping, crying, dodging person dressed in oversized and bedraggled dinosaur costume. Great choice there. 

Enchanting that little dears share with me the joyful news that they are mildly peckish, or may require some slight stimulation. At 4:30am. Every morning.

Crankypants here actually had great crews on both flights, hardly any queueing through 3 airports,  can do the journey in 2 flights now instead of 3, and not one of our party wet herself. So it wasn’t all bad.

Until the play centre.