“Then Jocelyn’s Daddy used bad language to the ref and the
match was turned off,” the young girl informed her best pal in front of me,
“and we were winning and all like” she added with some frustration, annoyance
that was speedily cast aside as soon as the next wave crashed at her feet and
off they both galloped in to the warm and toasty Atlantic. Coolmaine Strand
just outside Bandon holds a very particular place in my heart, it being a beach
where many a happy summer was spent with my mother and her mother and today it
was especially dazzling as the entire island of Ireland continued to be held
tightly in the bosoms of the sun gods “’D’ya know what now we don’t see it too
often, and you know another thing there’s nowhere like it in the world when the
sun is shining” declared the man to my left. “That’s for sure” I smiled and
stuck my nose back into my novel. He turned to his wife and advised her: “For
the love of Christ Mary willu put on your sun factor!” I giggled and chomped
down on a ham and cheese bread roll with a side serving of Mr. Tayto’s finest
always so much tastier and saltier after a long swim. Simple pleasure. Hello
summer 2018…
And what a few months it has been, the welcome rays of
yellow divinity that radiated down on us all since late May will stay long in
the bones and brains of the Irish people. Simply put- It WAS A.M.A.Z.I.N.G! On
the last full day of that same heatwave some Colombians, French, Venezuelans, a
Croatian, a mix of West Corkconians and Mallow folk descended on Dessie Fitz’s
pub in Killavullen where cultures collided for a really special wedding
BBQ. Stories were told, food was shared
and music was played until late into the night. The craic was definitely had.
The image of my brother fighting back the immense emotion as he made a short
speech will always stay with me. Not a man inclined to show his feelings on any
grand scale he was completely and utterly at the mercy of that one moment in
which his life must have felt so full of love. To quote one guest “their love
is the lantern that lights their communities, their friends and their
families”- touché! We continued the party for a few days after that, taking in
all of what north and east cork had to offer, from plush dinners in Longueville House,
watching liners glide past us like seagulls in Cobh and whiskey tasting in
Midleton’s stoneclad fortress to dancing feet and fluttering hearts out in
Lahern Cross! Friends and lovers swirling
and twirling all around amid faraway hills of golden green.
“I believe I can fly, I believe I can touch the sky… I think
‘about every night and day, spread my wings and fly away” boomed R Kelly from
the DJ box in the Garden Room of the Hibernian Hotel in Mallow. Old photos of
school friends (living and some deceased, sadly), of buildings and books and
long demolished classrooms flashed behind us on a screen as we gathered in big
circles and let it all out there, on the dancefloor. I had the pleasure and joy
of co- organising a 20 year school reunion this summer. Weeks of preparation
and work culminated in a very special night when time as we knew it stood still
for a few hours as the 90’s came back in all their glorious shiny shell
tracksuitedness. Long lost friends reconnected over prosecco and packets of
meanies. I laughed so much that night as stories came flooding back from way
back when. It felt at times like nothing had changed, everyone looked and
sounded like they did in school. It was kind of magic really. I will always be
so glad I spent a night with these girls, a night where we left our collective
baggage at the door and just chatted and danced and giggled like we did all
those years ago. Time melts away and slips through our fingers so quickly. That
night was a timely reminder of that.
“What can a song do to you?” “Can it bring back a spring in
December?” go the lyrics of a beautiful song by The Unthanks. The songs that
boomed out from every nook and cranny of Lord and Lady Waterford’s magical
estate carried me into the next phase of summer 2018. Myself and my diamond
ukulele sister spent a weekend like no other at the All Together Now Music
Festival, a weekend that has left an indelible mark on my soul. We danced like
mad wimmin all weekend long, the love, creativity and music willing our
exhausted feet to dance to one more tune before bed. One of the highlights was
listening to “Bring your own Brass’ at the bandstand on Saturday, a stunning
brass ensemble of mad men from London that had people jumping out of their
skin. I even got a shout out from the stage for my dance moves! A highlight
only matched by actually falling over onto a grassy knoll laughing so much I
couldn’t walk or talk as Bairbre’s brilliant mind conjured up another hilarious
image. I had a few days to recover
before I took to the skies and made my way to the wine growing soils of classy
France. Oh France, where do I even start…?
After 3 nights discovering Bordeaux city I caught the train
to a little town called Libourne just a stone’s throw from the UNESCO listed
medieval city of Saint Émilion home to some of the finest red wine makers on
the globe. The cobblestoned streets here date back to the 8th
Century when a Saint named Émilion decided to set up shop for a bit of praying
in an abbey and over the centuries was joined by his buddies the Benedictines,
the Augustinians, and The Ursuline Sisters to name a few. They prayed and got
pissed- hooray! The only people to beat them here were the Romans in the 2nd
century and it was they who planted the first vines- GOD BLESS ‘EM. Viticulture
is taken quite seriously in these parts, don’t you know, proven by the fact that in
1884 the first French Wine Producers Union, more commonly known as The Wine
Council, was set up. Now, there’s a board I would very happily sit on! I spent
4 days cycling, eating and tasting some very beautiful red wine and on one
unexpected afternoon a very fine wine indeed! One hot evening I stopped the
bike on the hill in front of the old abbey and as its bell tolled loudly joined
only the rustle of a very gentle wind sweeping through the low hanging purple
grapes on either side of me I found I was completely and utterly in my element.
I almost shed a tear- pure contentment with life in every way. Later that night I shared some
wine and fois gras with a lovely young French couple. We all agreed that the
perceived snobbery, prestige and fussiness that can sometimes be attached to
wine is so misplaced. For me it is primarily about fun and respect, sharing it
and not abusing it. The dedication, time and history attached to its production
is no longer lost on me, a fine art where man and nature come together to
produce love in a glass-CHEERS! As for France, some 20 years ago I missed out
on an opportunity to live and study there- I hope to put that right this year.
A plan will be hatched…
Speaking of things hatching… I’m going to divert completely
now and divulge a little something more personal with you about my eggs, the reproductive ones that is. I’ve had mine counted and tested! Yes, around
this time last year I decided to get my fertility levels tested for no great
reason other than I could and in all seriousness I was quite relieved to learn
that indeed I had plenty of healthy little follicles in there and gave a little
cheer in my heart when I was told by the lovely egg doctor opposite me that I was in
fact ‘bucking the trend.’ Maybe I should freeze them I thought the other night
as I watched the Rose of Tralee gals leaping around the stage. So I asked the
all-knowing wise uncle Google about such.
I was less than impressed on his stats about egg freezing for women of
my vintage.
“Egg quality decreases with age… for this reason we cannot
offer egg freezing as a reasonable option for women over 38 years…
I have eggs a plenty but it would seem they are all on
bloody zimmer frames. Shit. I turned back to the roses my mind quickly
wandering (all too easily done during some of these interviews to be fair) and
as I half listened to these women with their unflappable positivity and their
young eggs- the bitches- I thought Jaysis have I left it too late? As I turned
my attention away from Daithi’s big vacant head I decided in a moment of
uncharacteristic urgency that perhaps sperm donation was indeed the way forward
because let’s face it folks the clock is ticking and impregnation by the swimmers
of some Scandinavian hunk (or knowing my luck some dwarf with a limp and a
gooey eye) should not be dismissed. Realistically when the time comes to
produce offspring the way Pope Francis and his lot would like me to, I’ll be on
a zimmer frame myself by the time the kid is swimming without armbands. I was close to heading off down to
the local town park with my €50 bottle of 2014 Grand Cru and a bag of
garlic chips n’ cheese from the Kentucky
chipper for a swing on the swings and to
have a good long think about what I’ve been doing all these years. But I
didn’t, instead I had a cup of calming herbal tea and watched an episode of
Better Call Saul on Netflix. “What have
I been doing since I left school?” I wondered. Well... I’ve been having the time
of my life. I chose a path of freedom and adventure and followed my heart at
every stage. Husbands and babies were far off in the distance, if at all. I
wouldn’t change a single thing. I have spent years trying to live in the
present moment so I’m not about to undo all that good work now by rushing into
baby mania. One day at a time. My precious eggs and I are in absolutely no
rush.
So the leaves are turning, the evenings drawing in and the
flamed coloured dance of seasonal change is upon us once more. School reopens next week for another year of snot and phlegm encrusted shoelaces and
endless lesson plans all the while trying to avoid another life altering dose
of pinworms. Oh the glamour! No wonder I
have a tendency for fine wines! But shur I do love those little kids, they get
into bloodstream you see…
Have a gentle and colourful autumn everyone. Keep the summer
of 2018 close to your heart. I know I will!
Liz
xxx
