The Prince's Birthday

There are some dates that stick in one's mind and today is one - Prince William's 40th birthday for I was in London the day he was born. There was no internet, or instant news back in those days. Instead, walking down a North London street, my own recently born bambino in a sling, it was seeing the signs outside newsagents - IT'S A BOY! I was so silly back then, that I let the thought enter my head, that perhaps, someday, my baby would meet him and they might marry and she'd be Princess Hannah. She dodged a bullet there. I mean, I know we are a tad on the dysfunctional side - but... that crowd?

Hannah with Aunt Gan.

It was Hannah's first visit to London. I was taking her over to meet her Aunts, all of whom lived at the same address in Crouch Hill, although in two different apartments, the older ones top floor, and the young ones below. I remember being shocked that some or other of the four of them (probably Kerry Sister) would go down to the shop below in her pyjamas. Such carefree behaviour had yet to reach dour old Ballymena town.

I don't remember Vancouver Brother being around even though he was based in London at that time. Perhaps he was in the Falklands as he had two stints there after the war, re-building the airport, him and a few other Irish lads. 

I look pretty chilled in that picture. I wonder why? And me with a nine-week-old bambino. I'd not a worry in the world. The Aunts had everything taken care of.  All I had to do was feed the child. It was a lovely holiday.

It was 1982 - there was no internet, no smartphone, no digital cameras. All I had was a cheap Kodak, point and shoot. And then there was the trip to the chemist with the film, and maybe a week later, a fresh folder of photos and most of them were shite. No filters either. You got what you shot. Come 40 years later the damn things are fading, turning orange. Even so, I love this photo of London Sister. When I get Photoshop and a few lessons from Baby Hannah (all grown up now) I'll make a better job of my photographic memories.

 

Coill na Baice to Trá Lí

Last Friday Zoë and I went on a rail journey. I'd been worried as Storm Eunice was ongoing but somehow we managed to dodge it the entire trip. Belfast was blue skies, Dublin even bluer skies. There was a flurry of rain as we passed through Tipperary and Tralee was a bit blustery. 

Obviously, the purpose of our trip was to visit Kerry Sister and the family, most especially Seánaí, her brand new grandson.

Great Aunt Nelly and the child. Taken by ZB?

We had four nights west of Dingle and it was a lovely time. The new baby was a beautiful darling and our hosts were definitely the mostest.  And there were dogs. I always feel most at home where there are dogs.

The journey home went well too. Home last night just after eight o'clock. I was tired but today I'm enlivened. I can still feel the weight of Séanaí in my arms and the soft silk of his dark hair against my face. It was such a good outing, family, stories, dogs and a new bambino. What could be nicer?

And I learned a few new things about knitting too. And finished A Pin To See The Peepshow.

 

Dudley and Eunice

Dudley and Eunice could be the title of an early unpublished novel by Hilary Mantel, or a pair of breeding bloodhounds owned by a Church of Ireland minister. Or, the names of an elderly Telegraph reading couple who still think that voting Brexit was an excellent idea.

The Storm Dudley didn't affect us too much here in Cullybackey. The winds were a lot stronger at the coast as First Daughter knows to her cost. She told me this evening that she had to go to A&E today after a gust of wind blew her off her feet and caused her to have facial contact with a metal gate which resulted in a busted lip needing to be glued together. Poor Zoë.

Storm Eunice is next. Due to impact this Friday, the very day that Zoë and I are due to travel from Ballymena to Tralee by rail. Fingers crossed we get there. 

We had a bull calf born on the farm today (one of Clint's). He's a big strong lad. We shall call him Dudley.

Obviously.

Big Chubby Returns

12^th October

Had second cataract procedure at Mater Hospital, Belfast.

13^th October

Removed eye patch and could see perfectly. Threw away spectacles and started using reading glasses.

14^th October

Hannah and I flew to Stansted. Trains weren't running so had to get coach to Cambridge then train to King's Lynn. Did not get to Katy's until late. Baby James grown like gosling, still gorgeous and very smiley.

15^th October

Went to Hunstanton. Fierce wind blowing off the North Sea. Hannah sad she left her woolly hat in Ballymena. We found a sheltered spot and ate delectable Cornish pasties. Later on went for walk in derelict part of Sculthorpe air base.

16^th October

Went to Wells-next-the-Sea. Excellent second hand bookshop and we got to see the places where James' father played truant when he went to school there. Do hope that young James will pay more attention to his studies. Later on went for walk on Syderstone Common.

17^th October

Went to King's Lynn. Left Hannah to railway station as she was off home again. Went shopping for skeleton suit for James' first Hallowe'en. No luck. It seems that babies may only dress up as pumpkins in King's Lynn.

18^th October

Quiet day at James' home. James' other grandparents called. Much cooing and admiring took place.

19^th October

Went to Burnham Market. Shopped for London Sister's birthday present. If London Sister were town in North Norfolk she might well be Burnham Market. Went for lunch in Tilly's Cafe where all women present fell in love with James.

20^th October

James and Katy went to Music Event for babies and small children. James apparently slept entire time. I strolled around Fakenham and discovered shop selling battered chocolate. Not battered as in Mars Bar delicacy popular in Scotland, just slightly scruffy and sold for next to nothing. Apparently outlet for sweet factory that supplies Marks and Spencer and Asda. Glad we don't have similar in Ballymena or I would be dead from chocolate poisoning within month.

21^st October

Unlike previous visit when he screamed whole journey baby James slept all the way from Katy's to King's Lynn. Bid mother and child poignant goodbyes and started my journey. Was far too early and had to wait three hours at airport. Observed rude, unpleasant security person be nasty to everyone who stood in front of him. Thankfully got pleasant young chap myself. Had not got round to putting my eye drops in plastic bag and he was perfectly nice about it. Did not have to take my shoes off.

22^nd October

Bert had made an heroic effort to keep house tidy but it still smelt like ancient public house. Had no time to clean it as it was child-minding day. Evie and Martha were almost as delighted to see me as I was to see them. Evie got good child sticker from nursery and gave it to Bert. It was a lovely afternoon and we spent it on the trampoline, tree house and swing.

23^rd October

Removed vintage pub smell from house using vinegar, bleach and Zoflora. London Sister's birthday. Significant. My present and card arrived on time so quite pleased about that.

24^th October

Met Hannah and Ziggy and went for walk and catch up. She had noticed horrible security man at Stansted too. Jazzer and Ben came round for the evening. Had red wine, chili and chocolate.

25^th October

Amazingly, despite red wine, chili and chocolate, did not wake up with sore head. Caught up with my blog.

The End

Wine & Cemeteries

The Banjos came over on Saturday night. Mrs Banjo brought her first ever wine for racking. It was a raspberry made from Asda's finest frozen fruit. To be honest I wasn't expecting much from it but it is coming along very nicely. A good ruby red colour, clear, tasty and alcoholic. Of course we judged this on the merest sip during the racking process but I will be looking for the recipe. I might need to use frozen fruit as we replaced our raspberry canes this year, and thanks to the very wet Spring they were late in getting into the ground.

Tonight I racked one of my elderflowers and a rhubarb. The elderflower was made from fresh flowers. I'd previously used dried flowers. The flavour is good but it is rather too sweet for my liking. I'll try it again this year but will go easy on the sugar.

Rhubarb. What can I say? It never disappoints me but looking back at my notes I see I was very adventurous with this one. I started it in February 2013 and used a pint of pineapple wine as a starter. Then, racking it in October I seem to have lashed a bit of birch sap and rhubarb into it. It didn't clear that well but is strong. Not one for entering in the County Show.

And now, back to Paris. This is an illustration from Ludwig Bemelmans' Madeline's Rescue. It features the Père Lachaise Cemetery which we visited on our last day in Paris. As Bemelmans did not see fit to include the last resting place of Marcel Proust here is my photograph.

I quite liked Bemelmans' depiction of Oscar Wilde's grave. There was no point trying to take a picture of the tomb as it was mobbed by school parties and middle-aged women in lipstick kissing the plastic barrier.

Interestingly, as London Sister and I were wandering around a handsome Frenchman approached us and enquired, “Proust?” We were so pleased that we had not been taken for Jim Morrison acolytes.

An Evening In Paris

This time last week when I was packing for my weekend in Paris, Miss Martha said,

Maybe you'll see Madeline.

She was referring to the central character in the children's book Madeline's Rescue by Ludwig Bemelmans. This was a very lucky find in Bellaghy's one and only charity shop. The girls love it and I've read it to them over and over again.

The trip to Paris was a birthday gift from London Sister who arranged both flights and accommodation. She flew from London, I flew from Belfast. Very convenient for us both. Of course I had pre-conceived ideas about one of the most visited city on earth. For a start I expected the plane to contain vast numbers of philosophers, poets and lovers. I had forgotten about Disneyland Paris. The plane actually contained vast numbers of over-excited children and their equally over-excited parents and grandparents. The little girl sitting behind me spent most of the journey exuberantly kicking the back of my seat which I bore with great fortitude.

I met LS at the airport and we continued on to Montmartre. Getting off at the Gare du Nord did not give the best impression of Paris for it is a rather seedy area. Rather that take the metro a few stops to the station nearest our hotel we decided to walk. It did not seem that far on the map. And it wasn't. We knew it was close to the Sacré-Cœur Basilica so we kept heading up and before long we were within sight of  the church.

We then took around 40 minutes to locate the hotel although I'd guess we were never any further than 5 minutes away from it. But those little places and streets are confusing. So, by the time we were checked in, it was near midnight. No matter, for this was Paris and a Friday night. We found a lively bar where we wined and dined and had a great amount of fun. I do love bar staff who look like they are having every bit as good a time as the patrons and who ululate to North African music and do, right in our faces, the thing that is now described as 'twerking'. This rarely happens in Ballymena where bar staff neither twerk, ululate or enjoy themselves. 

Next: We nearly visit the Louvre

Five Go Wild In Norfolk

Zoë and I returned from Norfolk this afternoon. It was a wonderful few days, which I totally enjoyed. When kids grow up and leave home reunions can be rare and that makes them even more precious. And to top the lot with dream topping my ex Mick, their dad, was there too. The last time I saw Mick was in Amsterdam nearly two years go on the occasion of Hannah’s 21^st birthday. But that was all quite frantic. This was much more relaxing.

When Katkin moved from Manchester she got Bert to help her with the move so he’s been to Norfolk before but it was my first visit. I liked it very much. It’s obviously a lot flatter than Norn Iron but is unspoilt. There are miles and miles without houses then when they come they are sympathetically built either of flint or red brick and fit in with the landscape. For anyone who’s not familiar with Norn Iron it looks like a giant got a great big bag of assorted houses (heavy on the tasteless ones) and scattered them over the landscape. Bert said it’s because we had no natural building materials apart from fieldstones so we built houses from ‘any ould shite we could get’.

So to get back to Norfolk it’s got pleasant countryside, sweet villages and friendly people. And it’s freezing. Next time I come during the summer.

The best bit was being with my girls and meeting Katy’s lovely other family and seeing Mick and Linda. The second best bit was finding a copy of Tristram Shandy* in Burnham Market and thrashing everyone at Millionaire.

*I’ve been looking for this for ages now. Since it was serialised on Radio 4 recently it’s been selling out of second hand bookshops everywhere.