Rowan Tree and Red Thread

In other news I appear to have caught the sun on my shiny pate today after a trip to the beach. In April? I fear this nice weather is the best we'll see for the year.

Now the rain has cleared it's a beautiful morning. The slanting sunlight is throwing long shadows and washing the trees with a wonderful golden light. The sky is clearing, leaving behind a crystal blue canvas to paint the new day upon.

Sigh. At least my office has a window.

It's a wet morning, but miraculously I'm walking to work in a break in the rain. Lucky I thought. But no.

Some SUV-driving bastard squeezing by traffic on an inside lane just threw gutter water over me. Cnut.

Half day today, walking in to work now after lunch at home, new music
(something by Issa Bagayogo from theTraveler '02 collection) on the iPod and
sunshine lifting my spirits.

*Smiles*

Thanks to the generosity of mizkit and T we now have a dryer in our kitchen. Given the weather we've had of late it may prove our only way to get dry clothes before the sun turns into a red giant.

Thanks mizkit!

Yesterday I walked home from work in the rain and paused a moment on the new pedestrian bridge that crosses the north channel of the river Lee. The sheets of rain drove patterns into the surface of the river, sweeping upstream towards a weir, where the river ran rushing and shouting over the rocks in a mumbled chorus. I was listening to "Passing By" by Ulrich Schnauss, which seemed dreamily appropriate to the moment of rushing water, chattering rain and water making patterns in water.

A good moment.

I hate wet socks.

We're off in the car down to sammywol 's parents for a few days.
The weather of the last couple of weeks, days of sunshine and record
temperatures, has disappeared into the rainclouds, leaving us to drive along
wet, greasy roads, spraying plumes as we go.

Many people in town have been caught unprepared for the traditional Irish
summer to reassert itself and are plodding about in damp summery clothes.
Perhaps they are not so much unprepared as disbelieving, refusing to except
the meteorological truth, clinging to the memory of sunshine despite the
'soft day'.

The three of us are heading down the country today, but I'll be back in Cork
tomorrow night, ready for work on Monday. Wife and daughter are staying on a
couple more days to enjoy grandma's membership in a local gym with a
swimming pool. Met Eireann promises the return of the good weather for
Monday, so there may be beach picnics in the offing too.

This weekend was, as advertised, wet. Nonetheless we took Rowan to the beach on Sunday with her grandparents and picnicked under an umbrella. I felt almost English. Rowan seemed to enjoy it anyway, playing in a 'car' dug from the sand and decorated with shells as headlights.

There was car-related excitement too on Monday as we went through a car wash with Rowan for the first time. She was wide-eyed with excitement and worried at the same time, but took it in her stride with some reassurance from her folks. She sat in her car seat and shouted that it was 'raining'.

Worldcon is approaching rapidly, so Rowan's biggest test so far is coming up. She'll have 6 days 5 nights with her grandparents. I hope she manages to keep her cool and enjoy herself with them. It's terribly exciting for us too; a holiday with just the two of us is an incredible novelty and something that just hasn't really happened in about three years. I really hope it all goes well.

I want to report that Rowan, my daughter, is a star. She spent Wednesday with her grandparents and bravely faced her first night without either of her parents. Apparently we're not that important after all.

I was delighted though, because I know her grandparents enjoyed it, it's good to know that she's getting more independent, and selfishly, it makes our upcoming holiday at Worldcon in Glasgow without her seem less of a wrench.

I dropped Sam down on Thursday morning, and on Friday I went down to the in-laws to rejoin Sam and Rowan. We spent a good chunk of Saturday on the beach, where I foolishly applied insufficient quantities of sun block and now have what is called locally a "farmer's tan". Ouch, my sore neck.

Complaining about sunny weather is the high of ingratitude in Ireland, however, so I'll say we've had a lovely few days, and it's a delight to see Rowan running about in hat and sun dress reveling in the sunshine[1].

The best moment of the weekend? Arriving on Friday evening to be welcomed by Rowan with smiles and spending a half hour down the end of the garden chatting about the exciting events of the last three days. Her mime of the crab she met on the beach on Friday afternoon was priceless.


[1] Suitably thick layers of sun block have been applied. I'm dumb but not criminal.