Fitting also, as it's the inaugural day of Dublin Pride 2013.
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| Salthill Monkstown Beach |
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| "Didja know there's a never-ending kibble bowl at the end of every rainbow? FACT." |
6/22/13
If there's one thing Ireland does really well...
...it's rainbows.
Fitting also, as it's the inaugural day of Dublin Pride 2013.
Fitting also, as it's the inaugural day of Dublin Pride 2013.
6/21/13
When the Shoe Fits
This was the Metro Herald horoscope (Aries) on my last of work before maternity leave.
100% correct when it notes that my sign does not easily relate to pause or taking stock. But it's time for a new rhythm.
Onwards and...downwards? (Baby.)
PS: Officially NONE of my shoes fit.
100% correct when it notes that my sign does not easily relate to pause or taking stock. But it's time for a new rhythm.
Onwards and...downwards? (Baby.)
PS: Officially NONE of my shoes fit.
6/4/13
5/29/13
El Nursery, Part I
Given we don't know what flavor nipper we're having (my stock response to those who flash me incredulous looks: "it's definitely either a girl or a boy"), there's a lot of white, yellow and soft green floating around our house at the moment. I'm pretty sure I would have gone with yellow for the nursery walls, even if I did know the gender...but aiming for surprize, we've no choice in the matter -- gender neutral yellow it is!
Oh, but which yellow?
I tried no fewer than ELEVEN different paint samples before finding The One. The woman at the decor center clearly thought I was cray-zee. Being visibly pregnant is good, in this sense, as it's actually your crazy "get-out-of-jail-free" card to all sorts of weird, wonderful behavior, including obsessive paint-color-testing.
Lest you think I exaggerate:
And the winner is -- drum roll please -- Sunseed! A warm, buttery yellow that brightens without being too "banana" and softens without coming across all "biscuit." HEY. I saw that eye roll. Just for fun, the list of paint colors that didn't make the cut, as follows: buttermilk, cotton cream, golden fern, lir, pale primrose, fallen star, courtyard cream, banana dream and lemon crush. [Aside: whose job is it to come up with paint color names? #careersyoudon'tthinkaboutinschool]
As to the actual act of painting, I kicked it off last weekend in a fit of rampant nesting. It started out as "I'll just do a large-ish patch on this wall to make sure I really, really like color" and ended up being a first coat of the entire room. Well...in all honesty, since I only realized halfway through that we've no ladder and I'm probs not in the best condition to be perching precariously on the trusty barstool M's friend "liberated" from a pub near our old house, there's about six inches at the top of the walls all the way around still in need of a lick of Sunseed. Thankfully, my mother-in-law has taken pity on our lack of forethought and painting skills, as well as my case of pregnancy-induced carpal tunnel syndrome that makes it mildly agonizing to hold a paint-brush for any length of time, and has agreed to finish the remaining coats this week. Hooray for M-I-Ls!
Next up: putting-the-furniture-together. Can our marriage can survive an IKEA flatpack chest of drawers and secondhand (with instructions, thank God) Mamas & Papas cot-bed? Time will tell, my friends -- if I post the next iteration of photos, you'll know we made it through.
Oh, but which yellow?
I tried no fewer than ELEVEN different paint samples before finding The One. The woman at the decor center clearly thought I was cray-zee. Being visibly pregnant is good, in this sense, as it's actually your crazy "get-out-of-jail-free" card to all sorts of weird, wonderful behavior, including obsessive paint-color-testing.
Lest you think I exaggerate:
And the winner is -- drum roll please -- Sunseed! A warm, buttery yellow that brightens without being too "banana" and softens without coming across all "biscuit." HEY. I saw that eye roll. Just for fun, the list of paint colors that didn't make the cut, as follows: buttermilk, cotton cream, golden fern, lir, pale primrose, fallen star, courtyard cream, banana dream and lemon crush. [Aside: whose job is it to come up with paint color names? #careersyoudon'tthinkaboutinschool]
As to the actual act of painting, I kicked it off last weekend in a fit of rampant nesting. It started out as "I'll just do a large-ish patch on this wall to make sure I really, really like color" and ended up being a first coat of the entire room. Well...in all honesty, since I only realized halfway through that we've no ladder and I'm probs not in the best condition to be perching precariously on the trusty barstool M's friend "liberated" from a pub near our old house, there's about six inches at the top of the walls all the way around still in need of a lick of Sunseed. Thankfully, my mother-in-law has taken pity on our lack of forethought and painting skills, as well as my case of pregnancy-induced carpal tunnel syndrome that makes it mildly agonizing to hold a paint-brush for any length of time, and has agreed to finish the remaining coats this week. Hooray for M-I-Ls!
Next up: putting-the-furniture-together. Can our marriage can survive an IKEA flatpack chest of drawers and secondhand (with instructions, thank God) Mamas & Papas cot-bed? Time will tell, my friends -- if I post the next iteration of photos, you'll know we made it through.
5/12/13
Mother's Day
Mother's Day this year takes on new significance, given I'm going to be one in a few short months. (Gulp.) For her part, my mother had already mailed ahead to say no flowers or unnecessary gifts expected, so I instead sent her the happiest photo I could think of:
Exciting times ahead for all us Ima(s) and Safta(s) out there. Oh, and let's hope baby's adult teeth, when they come in, really are as straight and perfect as the pic. Will save us a fortune on future orthodontistry, though don't think genetics are with us on this one...
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| Week 31 |
3/10/13
So We Took that Babymoon...
One of the first things I did when I found out I was pregnant was...book a vacation! Yep, I know what you're thinking: girl has her priorities STRAIGHT, yo. Forget taking out life insurance or starting a college fund (neither of which I've done, as yet, come to think.)
But the babymoon, much as I despise the term, was a much-needed and very good thing, given that M and I are REALLY BAD at taking vacations, just the two of us. We didn't even really take a honeymoon -- just three days at the end of an extended two weeks with family and friends. Suppose that's part of living far from everyone...holidays always tend to be with or back to family and friends, because when else are you going to see them?
Anyway, we didn't have much in the way of criteria, apart from not-bank-breakingly expensive/far to fly...oh, and sunny in late February. Southern hemisphere thus out (cost/distance) and mainland Europe, upon research, not actually that assuredly warm anywhere in late Feb. So -- not without trepidation -- we settled on Lanzarote, a slice of volcanic Spain off the coast of northwest Africa. About as warm as you can get within four hours flight on a lowcost airline from Ireland in Feb: it hit almost every button.
I say "almost," because I remained dubious. The Canaries have a reputation for good weather, yes, but also for restaurant signs offering a "full English/Irish breakfast -- just five euro." Not necessarily something I'm keen to see if not IN England/Ireland, if you get my drift?
We stayed in Playa Blanca, known as the "family" [read: boring] end of the island -- a good choice. (We visited Puerta del Carmen on our last day before heading to the airport; reputed for its very English/Irish bars and nightlife, it would probably have been -- and this is totally my hang-up, I grant you -- my muy worst holiday nightmare.) Our Playa Blanca apartment, on the other hand, was gigantic for the two of us (the suitcases had a bedroom of their own) and fully kitted out. And the town itself was...fine. Marginal restaurants with attractive aspects over the beach, good gelato and plenty of opportunity to buy tourist/beach tat.
It also happened to be Carnival while we were there. Never one to miss an opportunity, I insisted on wigs/masks/feather headdresses. The following day, I believe it's safe to say the entire island was suffering a collective hangover (yours truly excluded, for obvious reasons.)
But where Lanzarote really excites is the landscape. It's indescribable. Like being on the surface of Mars. Hands down, the best things we did all had to do with its inescapable volcanic heritage. My advice, if ever you go, is to get out of town:
And then of course, there was beach. We found our favorite, which also happened to be nude-optional -- a startling realization at first, but we got used to it, even if we didn't partake ourselves. For several days, we had corners of it entirely to ourselves. If that's not bliss or close to, I'm not sure what is. M schooled me in paddleball (blame the pregnancy), but I read faster, so, in respect of classic holiday activities, I think it all comes out in the wash.
On our final day, we visited the Fundacion Cesar Manrique, former home of the island's favorite son, whose art and architecture is indelibly fused to the volcanic landscape. An inspiring take on what you can achieve when you build with the land, rather than against it. Suffice to say, Ireland's 1950's box semis somehow lacking in comparison...
And in the blink of an eye, our week was over. But we'd proved to ourselves that We Can Vacation Together, Just the Two of Us, once and for all. Here's hoping it's not another seven years before we do it again.
But the babymoon, much as I despise the term, was a much-needed and very good thing, given that M and I are REALLY BAD at taking vacations, just the two of us. We didn't even really take a honeymoon -- just three days at the end of an extended two weeks with family and friends. Suppose that's part of living far from everyone...holidays always tend to be with or back to family and friends, because when else are you going to see them?
Anyway, we didn't have much in the way of criteria, apart from not-bank-breakingly expensive/far to fly...oh, and sunny in late February. Southern hemisphere thus out (cost/distance) and mainland Europe, upon research, not actually that assuredly warm anywhere in late Feb. So -- not without trepidation -- we settled on Lanzarote, a slice of volcanic Spain off the coast of northwest Africa. About as warm as you can get within four hours flight on a lowcost airline from Ireland in Feb: it hit almost every button.
I say "almost," because I remained dubious. The Canaries have a reputation for good weather, yes, but also for restaurant signs offering a "full English/Irish breakfast -- just five euro." Not necessarily something I'm keen to see if not IN England/Ireland, if you get my drift?
We stayed in Playa Blanca, known as the "family" [read: boring] end of the island -- a good choice. (We visited Puerta del Carmen on our last day before heading to the airport; reputed for its very English/Irish bars and nightlife, it would probably have been -- and this is totally my hang-up, I grant you -- my muy worst holiday nightmare.) Our Playa Blanca apartment, on the other hand, was gigantic for the two of us (the suitcases had a bedroom of their own) and fully kitted out. And the town itself was...fine. Marginal restaurants with attractive aspects over the beach, good gelato and plenty of opportunity to buy tourist/beach tat.
It also happened to be Carnival while we were there. Never one to miss an opportunity, I insisted on wigs/masks/feather headdresses. The following day, I believe it's safe to say the entire island was suffering a collective hangover (yours truly excluded, for obvious reasons.)
But where Lanzarote really excites is the landscape. It's indescribable. Like being on the surface of Mars. Hands down, the best things we did all had to do with its inescapable volcanic heritage. My advice, if ever you go, is to get out of town:
 |
| The road to Timanfaya National Park |
 |
| PS: FYI, they don't like you actually setting foot on volcanic rock. Be speedy. |
And then of course, there was beach. We found our favorite, which also happened to be nude-optional -- a startling realization at first, but we got used to it, even if we didn't partake ourselves. For several days, we had corners of it entirely to ourselves. If that's not bliss or close to, I'm not sure what is. M schooled me in paddleball (blame the pregnancy), but I read faster, so, in respect of classic holiday activities, I think it all comes out in the wash.
On our final day, we visited the Fundacion Cesar Manrique, former home of the island's favorite son, whose art and architecture is indelibly fused to the volcanic landscape. An inspiring take on what you can achieve when you build with the land, rather than against it. Suffice to say, Ireland's 1950's box semis somehow lacking in comparison...
And in the blink of an eye, our week was over. But we'd proved to ourselves that We Can Vacation Together, Just the Two of Us, once and for all. Here's hoping it's not another seven years before we do it again.
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