Trasna An Uisce

‘There’s a secondment in the UK for 6 months...the boss reckons it would do me good to put my name in the pot’ he says ‘I could commute at weekends’. ‘Why not..go for it!’ says I, like the way I decided to do the Dublin City Marathon but not really knowing what was ahead of me, until I crossed the finish line...like the way I took on a degree to fill the time in the evenings and keep the grey matter tickin over (sin sceal eile!). If it worked out maybe it could mean a change for us all..new experiences...a stone’s throw from London..only across the water..sure they’re not that different over there..the nannas and granddads could get with it on Skype. And so it began. Say yes and just do it, worry about the minutia later. However, an absentee husband proves draining, physically and emotionally, what with the wear and tear three active lively loud brilliant children have on mind, body and soul. Planes delayed, clouds of ash, nine assignments, three exams, stresses and strains, the year has been busy. The secondment turned indefinite when a taste for the new job was had and ego took over (although Himself would argue to the contrary). The decision was made. Put the house on the market, rent over there and see how it goes. Sure the economy in Ireland is makin like Domestos anyway.


I underestimated the emotional carnage that ensued. Heart wrenching goodbyes to the children’s friends and teachers. Stomach churning hugs and kisses from the nannas and granddads, aunts and uncles in Galway and Tipp. An all merciful party that saw grandad givin it socks in the nightclub to ACDC, with the brothers, sister and I givin it up on the dancefloor to ‘your sex is on fire’ with ‘the luveens on fire’ complete with leg guitar! As the tears and snot abated, the coffin ship awaited. Decluttering should cleanse the mind but it brings memories and emotions to the surface. I filled a skip and still there was more stuff. My hen night acoutrements from 16 years ago, at the back of the press, having come with us from one abode to the next. The movers went through the house like grease lightening. Anything that didn't move was bubble wrapped and packed into the back of a truck. Off we went to France for two weeks, to return to our new lodgings (not a good idea!). But nothing ventured....children are resilient...time will tell, so they say.

And now we are here, lock, stock and garage full of unopened boxes in Thame, Oxfordshire. The house in Galway, our once home, lies vacant. And how is it I can find the teak oil and I can’t find the iron? Although, it may come in handy for cricket!