Friday, April 22, 2011


Killiney hill. Lunch in the COLD, because it was all cloudymisty and breezy. I missed the sun already. Kids and Axl refused to picnic in the car, as it was too much like the action of his Auntie Mary. I didn't care, but I was overruled.

The nwe went to walk up the hill - we hit the woodland path and the noise of rain advanced through the trees, then the drops reached us. We retreated to the cover of the other trees we'd sat under and the rain stopped. We waited, approached the path again, and the noise of pattering rain sped towards us through the tree tops, then a second later the rain hit us again. We retreated - and it stopped. We were almost scared to approach the path a third time, it was getting quite sci fi.

Killiney Hill is a short walk, there are twisted beech trees and bluebells, it's very pretty. As we started up through the trees, someone's phone rang, loudly, that old fashioned bringgg-bringgg dial phone ring. Usually I like it, but it seemed the most intrusive I've ever experienced a mobile phone to be, I must say. It occurred to me it was the old fashioned ring that did it. Axl then voiced that out loud - a beep would have been ok, but that particular noise is one you associate with a drawing room, a ring from a time where there were no phones outside in the woodland. Strange one.

We reached the top of the hill, and I sat and looked at Bray, and Killiney Bay, and the Sugarloaf and the Little Sugarloaf, all mist wreathed and atmospheric and blue. I will also admit to wondering where Bono lived, but then I felt too ashamed to ask. I didn't bring the camera because it was full, so you'll have to make do with  
other people's. It was a bit monochromatic today anyway. It's one of the best views, though. In those photos, you'll see Sorrento Terrace, built on the  cliff facing the view - for a while at least, they were the most expensive houses in the country. Neil Jordan lived there (I just had to google Neil+film director+Bray to remember his second name. Really wish brain had more of a  google search function).

Before we went out, Olivia and I finished the jigsaw we'd been working on. Just 500 pieces, but a little impressionist, and so not too easy, not too hard. I was amazed, working on it, at how I could observe my brain working independently of me. This is a little nerdy, but I could feel the way it works - you look at the pieces, and wonder where they go. You look at the spaces in the puzzle and register what colours are missing and what you need. You think, god, I will never find this, and then your eyes move directly to exactly the relevant piece. All unconscious, but I could feel it happening. We record and process so much without being aware of it. No wonder our psychology is so easily messed with.

Met teacher I correct for in Tesco, discussed how There Are  No Teaching Jobs. Scary. Discussed the possibility of having to leave the country with Axl, as the off trade is dying too, the supermarkets have killed it selling cost price beer etc. And no one has any money any more.

What will we all do? Teachers are leaving en mass, is it possible they'll leave jobs behind for me? I just don't know. I thought I got paid this week, but I don't, it's next Friday, for some reason. Another week of having minus money. This can't really go on, and yet... I have no idea where it could go. I'm trained for nothing. Nothing! 

1 comment:

Mwa said...

It's strange how ingrained in the Irish it is to leave the country when there aren't enough jobs. It must be genetic or the weather or something.

You are trained to do something, obviously. Like teaching and marking. And as a mother, I'm sure you could do about half the jobs out there. Although perhaps not neurosurgery.

You'll be okay! The universe is abundant, as Ms Moon would say.