Summer times in Howth

Ah Howth, I love you so.

Summer brings the throngs of visitors in questionable outfits. The lads who have swapped their grey trackies for grey trackie shorts. The girls who have cut up their jeans, cut them up to your imagination. The gangs of mean looking seagulls loitering on every available surface, waiting for any morsel to drop from a mouth. And that pungent tang of salt and vinegar from Caffe Caira!




Standing in the queue to buy lunch…

“Ah would you stop messing?” one woman says to the other.  “You’ll spill my coffee!”
“I could slip on it.”
“I can see the heading now ‘Woman awarded €100k for slipping on friend’s coffee…'”
“Former friend!!!”
“If you slosh your coffee and I slip on it, we’ll definitely be ‘former’ friends! For once, can you not just keep it in the cup???”
“Ah, would you keep your fecking cacks on!!!”
“I would – if I was wearing any!!!”

And at that the two dissolved into guffaws that would leave Beavis and Butthead stunned!

“I’ll be riding shotgun…”

Today’s commute was…eh…interesting. I thought – foolishly – that, as I was taking a half day, I’d treat myself to driving to work. Didn’t realise that that decision had already been taken for me!

So it’s all so quiet on the road but as I near the next town, the volume of people starts to build. People are walking. People are waiting at bus stops. Bikes that haven’t seen the light of day are now being peddled furiously townward. The cyclists vary between those who are quasi-professional and those whose cycling and buttocks are wobbling in unison.

Seems people lost the run of themselves. Cyclists narrowly escaped scrapping off the sides of cars. Motorbikes sideswiped pedestrians and cyclists. Pedestrians stepped out in front of cars or deliberately blocked the road. And the motorists were just as bad – perhaps worse. Trying to drive into lanes where no gap existed. The end of the world as we know it? Certainly had that vibe about it.

I wanted to give a few people a lift but the bay of wobbly, hairy legged, cyclists (and that was just the gals…) blocked the way each time.

Eventually managed to give one girl a lift. As she rode shotgun, she shouted at the cyclists coming too close for comfort, gave a few choice gestures to cheeky cars trying to cut in and marshalled me into the Bus Lane. I didn’t fear a policeman catching us as I reckoned she’d box the bleedin’ head off them if they even looked sideways at us!


What’s in the bag?

“What’s in the bag?”
“An omelette maker.”
“So what does it do then?”
“Eh…it cooks omelettes…”
“Does it make waffles?”
“Why not?”
“Eh…it’s the wrong shape.”
“Wrong shape for what?”
“Why did you buy it then if it doesn’t make waffles?”
“Because I bought an omelette maker to make omelettes…”
“Hmmmm…no need to be sooooo sarcastic!”

Mothers’ Day Memories

“I’m posting me Ma her Mothers’ Day card.”
“Now as in today?”
“Way too early. Waaaaaaay too early!”
“It’s not for another two weeks.”
“I know. I know. But she’ll kill me if I forget.”
“Thing is – if you post it now, she’ll have forgotten all about it by Mothers’ Day so you’ll be in trouble.”
“I can’t win this one, can I?”

March 2017

Praise where praise is due?

“Yeah, got called into the school about his behaviour.”
“Really? I thought he was such a quiet, well-behaved, chap.”
“Oh, he is. He is!”
“Oh! But he’s only young.”
“Yeah. Eleven.”
“So what did he do?”
“He’d a box of pencils.”
“I don’t understand. Was he stabbing the others with them?”
“Good God – no!”
“What then?”
“He was simply renting them out to the others at a daily rate of two euro.”
“Per pencil???”
“And what did the Principal say?”
“Something about the ‘extortion’ having to stop.”
“You sound disappointed.”
“I am. I am. After all the fees we paid that school, I thought the very least they could do was praise his entrepreneurial spirit!”