ammendment

I've just been reading back over my first posts to see how bad the blog is or isn't (what do you think, honestly? I'm meant ot be able to write. Am I funny and insightful as well as whiney and neurotic, or just the latter?) and I've noticed that in my post about my mother I describe her not only as my 'confident' instead of confidante, but also as being young when she died at 75. Which most would consider oldish - I should have written 57. I just have to correct that, it seems a significant difference to me!

tsk

Friends offered to babysit for us on New Year's Eve, content to have a night in together. Miraculous as this sounds, we realised we didn't really fancy going out by ourselves - I think NY'sE works well if you have a gang, otherwise it's a bit crap and forced. This is the first night my husband won't have been working late in a long time - but going out didn't seem right.

I suggested staying in with the said friends instead - she could bring her little boy, who could have a sleepover with my daughter, we could make pizza, drink champagne and watch Jules Holland getting drunker, as I like to do now that I'm old! Yay, they were into it - plans were made -

And last night the boys played a stonker of a gig in Scott's, people dancing on tables, new female fans edging out the die-hard loyal lads in the front row - a woman from hte UK who works for BMI records writing Andrew a note saying she'd run out of business cards, did they have a contract, and if not to get in touch!

All good, but Andrew wrecked himself singing with a chest infection, he's been taken off to the doctor today by his mum and it doesn't look like he'll be out socialising tomorrow night.

Christ! Why is it so hard to count on any sort of social arrangement. I'm sick of it! I know this sounds selfish (not as much as his girlfriend who dragged him home to hers the gig last night!) and I hope he gets better quick (for a gig in the sugar Club I have no babysitting for, grr) but I just wish an evening could pan out like it was meant to for once.

Oh well.. I guess this means I get an Indian takeaway... silver lining...

you know how hard it can be, to keep your side of the deal

This is a duel post. I've been meaning to post this for a long time, as it's my anthem - for every time I've cursed at my poor little girl, or been impatient, or scared her, or not made enough time, or made her feel bad about herself. Because she bites her nails and makes them bleed. And has bad dreams and feels self conscious with other people. For every time I've been a bad mother and undone all the principles I've ever had about the commitments parents have to make and the rules we have to stick to.

So this is the official theme tune of my blog. God Bless Mom. Please listen to the lot if you start, just so you can try and see what I'm talking about.

Secondly because I think I first saw Glen Hansard do this acoustically in one of the mindblowing solo gigs he did in the International so long ago. He said he wrote it with his little brother while his mother was out, and he was trying to write, but the kid was missing her and pestering him - so they wrote a song together. We were right up at the stage, it was back in the days when he'd belt them out and it was transcendent. Then I saw the Frames do it electrically in Mother Redcaps, and I couldn't believe how they captured all the raw intensity and beauty of the acoustic version but with the massiveness of the electric. This song used to pick me up and swirl me round in the light. Such a good time. They've messed with it a lot since - this is a half measure, it's the only vid available on Youtube that has half of what I wanted you to understand - the best bit is when he really launches into 'You know how hard it can be' with all this pain and anguish. I think I was at this show and all!

oopses

I was going to post a picture of my beautiful pumpkin pie, but I won't because I over-nutmegged it, and against the recipe's suggestion, put in allspice too. And I chickened out and cooked it a day too late. it needs to rest and solidify! So nobody liked it, and I didn't much either. Especially bad for a pumpkin pie ambassador such as myself, trying to bring pumpkin pie to the masses.

Although my deaf mother in law was surprisingly positive:
'What sort of pie is it, Jo?'
'Pumpkin.'
'But what's in it?'
'Pumpkin.'
'is there real pumpkin in it?'
'Yes, it's pumpkin...'

And then I was going to post photos of the lovely toys I've been knitting since October, one for my son and one for my nephew did I finish them in time no, I have not yet!

Christmas Day itself was a bit of a boob too - against our better judgement we went to my brother and sister in laws. They always have her two brothers, niece and nephew and her father there too. and it's just never quite right for us. It's hard to put our finger on it - they're ll lovely (well, her Dad is an elderly, humourless invalid, so he's not much fun), funny, kind, generous people, she has has her very nice house immaculate and beautiful. But it's just not comfortable, you end up not really talking to anyone, my husband wanders around trying to settle and failing, my daughter grumped at the other poor little girl with her usual display of fecky bad manners. She wanted to eat beside me but the kids have to eat in the kitchen - I forgot that last time we were up her younger brother had to eat in with them, they treat him like Anthony out the Royle family! Of course I wanted to eat Christmas dinner with my daughter, so I ate in the kitchen too, with my cold stuffing I'd brought and had no place to heat. It just hadn't occurred to me I wouldn't be able to eat together with my family!
After dinner there's a massive clean up drive, as my sister in law and her sister in law can't bear to leave stuff around. A mountain of leftovers is binned, huge amount of water is run... there's all this fuss before and after the dinner, the eating itself seems less important. Then everything's cleaned to within an inch of its life and locked away. I used to love wandering in and picking at leftovers, the odd roast spud, a little stuffing.... I liked it better than dessert (which I've already described as being a failure!).

Then to top it off, I had to drive home - an hour, on the motorway, which was pitch black for much of it, but with cars to close in front to use my brights, and the baby screaming the whole way home. It was a horrible ordeal, on top of a particularly unsatisfying day! This time we've made a pact - never again! My sister in law wanted us there as her husband feels isolated among her family and needs his own there too. She can't come down here because of her Dad, fair enough. But its not worth or sacrificing Christmas to! my husband hadn't wanted to go again and she was upset, then my daughter said she wanted to go play with the other kids - but in the end she was just tired and not into it. We've all been ill over Christmas.

Next year we stay put, chill out, have our own tasty food and don't worry about it. my mother in law was originally grand with the idea that we do that, but when I said yesterday that's what we'd do next year she pronounced 'So we'll never have Christmas together again!!!' Well, fine by me the way I feel at the moment!

All in all our holiday's been grand - my husband was home for Christmas Eve nght for the first time ever, yesterday was restful though our expected and anticipated visitor never showed up or called... I do have a sense of how I want things to be and how to achieve that, if not for this yeara then definitely for next.

Happy New year to you all!

Michael

I have another new man in my life - first came our baby son and last night we acquired Michael - a soft spoken middle aged man in glasses and a jumper.

He's our counsellor - unable to bear the thought of trying to get through Christmas with the house full of tension and my husband only speaking to me when he has to, I bit the bullet and rang Accord. it's a Catholic, non-profit counselling organisation, devoted to safeguarding marriage. Its non-denominational in terms of who it extends its services to, and assures its punters that its counsellors are independently certified. I was a little daunted when I heard our counsellor would be male, but it seems to be all good.

Of course, the receptionsit wh opened the door is in my Pilates class - not that I'm ashamed of going to counselling or needing to keep it a secret, but still - sheesh! actually, I wish we'd done this year ago as general maintenance, we'd always vauely meant to, or at least I had - a warning to all, it would save a lot of hassle.

Last night was just a preliminary session, explaining the drill - despite originally suggesting we go, my husband only grunted when I told him I'd set up a session and didn't ask anything til we were driving down to it, when he said 'So is this going to be every week from now on then?' Encouraging. But it turns out you commit to 6 sessions and then choose whether to sign up for more. And were both very happy with Michael. I was oddly touched when, as he was reading out the list of issues we might be there for, he asked us if physical violence was a problem, and whispered 'Thank God' under his breath when we said it was not. It is that sort of thing that would put me off being a counsellor.

So hopefully we will start to communicate and perhaps even spend some time together once the process is underway. Michael's already getting us to have a date each Tuesday after counselling, and himself has agreed! Praise be!

Although I'm now going to have to switch my date with Stargate Atlantis to the re-run on Saturday nights...

quality of life

There are too many people in the world. When I was in UCD we used to call it queuing for a degree... apparently students amade a film about al the queues, in the library, the canteen etc, and when they showed it it was so popular, people were queuing to get in...

Last week, we went to see Santa and get our tree from Powerscourt. he's a great Santa, you get lots of time, a quality pressie, a badge and the Christmas fairy takes a polaroid. it's still a little intimidating for weenies - another father made the brilliant comment that it was a little like meeting the pope! Last year we must have one earlier in the year - we got there before ten, and there was no-one else there. This year we were late, and there was a two hour wait by the time we arrived. No Way. So we told my daughter we'd come back early this week, and she agreed.

We didn't make it for nine, it was closer to ten (sleepless night with children, husband out late playing a gig, wouldn't get up... again...) an again, by the time we got there, Santa had arrived late, and there was a three hour wait - I was all set to feel disgruntled at my husband again, until he told me that people had been there since six thirty. In the morning. With their kids.

Now I'm not a huge fan of the Santa-visit, not having done it myself as a child. So I cannot imagine what would move people to do this with their young kids. We went and had a hot chocolate, and I'll being her back tomorrow, she can have time off Montessori - I checked, and it'll be empty tomorrow morning. It's just crazy. I would take an hour off work if i wanted to go that much, not queue for three. There are too many of us - Avoca was so nice with no-one in it this morning! I hate my fellow man en masse, I have to admit, and I think we're being driven to insanity by the amount of us around. It's reaffirmed my commitment to having only two children!

my new favourite poet

Murray Lachlan Young



I saw this guy on The Panel. I so love Youtube! I don't know which I like better - the second I think, though it's not complete.



Fab!

for the Laydeez

I did surprisingly well today. I dropped work off to a friend who has a beautiful house off the SCR, I love being there. She made me lavender flavoured Earl Grey in white china, and listened to me complain, and we talked about the delights of Ewan McGregor.

I popped back int town, which I was dreading but it was great! The backstory t this is, I wanted to buy a slightly collectible Moulin Roti bear for my babbins, I'd got one for my little nephew last May for about €20 on sale. The same shop kept telling me they were now €65. ??/ Asked in Powerscourt to be told they didn't have them. So I bought one on Ebay thismorning from the UK, total cost €41. Then went to Powerscourt and saw them in full view for €32 ARG!
When I got home I asked the Ebay lady for a refund (planning to go back to Enniskerry at some point) which she sweetly gave - I love how friendly Ebay people seem to be.

In town, I went to the Toy Shop on Dawson St. to buy a dragon, and while I was paying I spotted the Ted in question - asked the price - €28!! Score! No more shopping trips. Then I popped into BTs in to get a certain gift, sadly not exactly what I wanted but it'll do. And I found the most delectable perfume and body cream - Laura Mercier, she does sweet, foody concoctions in old fashioned confectionery jars - things like lemon or chocolate souffle body cream, all fluffy and smelling deliciously edible. If I'd had a spoon in my pocket I might have eaten it all. I wore Bodyshop vanilla perfume for years but they changed it and now it's not so nice. Everywhere I went I would hear people saying 'Smell of flogs!' in wonderment. I miss it, though my cousin sent me some nice stuff from the States. But there's a gourmet vanilla perfume that was just lovely - aha, I thought, and there was a nice spicy one that would do for the husband. Sadly, it's not to be, until someone buys the rights to my blog - €60 and €72 respectively. Ah well. If anyone's wealthy, go get it, its gorgeous!

Then Grafton St. was looking just lovely with its posh lights, very sparkly. I was rushing home to my kids to decorate the tree, so I forgot to look at the BT window, but it does nothing or me usually - when I was a child, I used to get brought in to see the Switzer's window, all the elves and bears and Santa, and fake snow and glow. That was magic. Not Amy Winehouse type models in overpriced non-Christmassy decorations. Meh.

So this post was meant to be just about Chocolate truffle body cream, but is also about magic of Dublin nostalgia like the black and white ad that's on at the moment, the 'my Dublin' one? Well, I may be turning into Ronnie Drew, but I find it touching!

newton faulkner

You can tell someones got something from the first time you lay eyes on them. I had the privilege of going to New ton Faulkner on Monday night (well, not as much privilege as my friend who got to be on the balcony and wrote this about him).

He was on in the Village, but it should have been Vicar Street really - I hope it will be next time. The Village suffers from corridor-itis - it' long and thin and it seems that you're always in the way - of the bar, the coat-check or the toilets, which are bizarrely situated to one side of the stage. It was very hot and crowded, and airless. So I could see NF's head if I craned on tip-toe, and moved around, dodging other people's heads. And a strange mix of a crowd it was too. Old and young, cool and nerdy. Not enough people who looked like him, though they might have all been down the front, come to think of it.

Despite the minimal comfort level and restricted viewing, god, he was good. The (young) man has a voice that expands into something godly. It's huge, and deep and melodious, and well funky - he and a friend who we sadly missed as he must have gone on as the doors opened for about ten minutes! did a guitar -off of 'Play that Funky Music Whiteboy' that sounded like there were about 15 people singing. Unbefreakinglievable. My favourite tack off the album is 'Something' and it was great, but the really popular single 'Dream-catch Me' was transcendent - biggest singalong ever.

I'm usually slightly embarrassed by singalong, audience participation stuff, but his musical talent made it work. And Newton's really funny - his stories were great, and his slight embarrassment at needing to rearrange himself in front of the crowd was hilarious, and done with aplomb. The gig was better for it. His story about choosing a cover, with musical illustrations, was so good, but I won't give examples in case you go see him. But it was personal, musical, funny, self-deprecating while revealing his brilliance - end ended in the spectacular cover of 'Teardrop'. Who would have thought of a man singing Liz Frazer?

His guitar playing - I don't know, it's like there's more than one guitar, more than one musician - the rhythm of him has to be seen to be believed. He's definitely been hanging around some crossroads, I think. It's left my husband, who is a mean enough guitarist, dying to get practicing. Inspirational stuff.

And as Midge suggested, the guy is so fucking cute! He's got a great, pleasantly middle class accent, he covers embarrassment by doing a sort of Jo Brand voice, and then of course, there are the dreads. Sigh. There's definitely a Cornwall Celtic ancient musician thing going on there, the man must just have so much sex.

One of his songs tells the story of being on his own one man tour, lugging bags of clothes, cds and guitars around by train - an sitting opposite a woman who was having none of him: 'Shes got time but she ain't got time for me'. Who the fuck was she, the madwoman! Who wouldn't have time for him? I would have had him home with me in a flash - sadly to make him dinner, and drool from afar, as I'm too old for the happier alternative!

His album is 'Handbuilt by Robots'. I like it and will continue listening to it. But he said he wanted it to be something you could listen to the whole of, as an experience I suppose, and it doesn't work for me, I don't think he achieved that. I find it starts brilliantly and tails off, the songs aren't equally strong. Having said that, I don't like UFO n the album particularly, but loved it live. So who knows.

Go see him if you get the chance!

Check him out on youtube and www.myspace.com/newtonfaulkner

I'm tagged

What 4 jobs have I had?
Possibly not four - Travel listings compiler/babysitter, TEFL teacher, seondary school teacher.

Places I've lived?
Dublin/Newcastle/Dublin/Kent/Bray

4 places I've been on holiday? France, Italy, Achill, California

4 favourite foods? Scalloped potatoes, burritos, artichokes, ice-cream!

4 places I'd rather be?
In a hot tub
In Italy
Somewhere snowy - Vermont?
In a happier relationship, being massaged.

Midge from www.midgetwrangler.blogspot.com tagged me so I'm tagging Mary! www.lalorlife.blogspot.com