We must be the only two eeejits trying to import cars into England. It would be easier to just buy a new one. Have to get an MOT and a COC or a SVA and send it off to the DVLA! Yards of Red Tape for my lawnmower. I’m loving not being 100% car dependent, as do the children. It pushes me as a parent to give them a bit more freedom. They can cycle to the shop or the library by themselves now. I listened to a podcast about 2 inner city Dublin boys, aged 10 and 13 who, back in 1985, were playing in their front garden and were told not to go too far as ‘their dinner was nearly ready’. Up to divilment they got the ferry to England, and ended up in New York. Fantastic piece of radio (Documentaries on RTE Radio 1). The Middle and the Youngest were so pleased with themselves after cycling down to the local Waitrose for washing powder. You should have heard the list of rules I gave them before they left! When did we as parents become so neurotic?
Again, some things never change. ‘Will go up and have a shower’, I says to The Small Man, ‘What do I want a shower for, sure who’s goin to be smellin me?!’ he retorts. Wiseguy. He has a buddy now, a football lover too another classmate who lives a few minutes away. The girls have found some playmates too, s’all good, at times, until they were slagged about their beautiful Irish names. Kids are cruel but they got over it. I have found a running route, sorts out my head space. Lots of runners here, all training for some class of a half, full or ultra-marathon. I'll just keep it tickin over for the moment, maybe a half one next year. We spoke to Grandad Dydys this week on Skype via the brothers computer. Hilarious. ‘This is a mighty yoke, yer lookin fab, I watered your plants’ he says shouting at the camera. ‘Grandad Jeep in Clonmel is able to do skype all by himself’ the children said to him. Water off a ducks back, the man will not even entertain a mobile phone.
No comments:
Post a Comment