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November 2014

insert more interesting word for "update"

It's so hard to find time to blog, isn't it? It used to be easy, but now I feel uncomfortably busy and, dare I say it, seized with an urgency to make things, which I'd call it ambition, if that wasn't so alien a concept. At any rate, I am sick of my shed and pc by the end of the day and just want to go inside and curl up in front of the fire. I've been sending work out to publishers and whatnot, applying for grants and all sorts. I feel all fired up and chugging full steam ahead. Whoo!

[I heart trains.]

There has been some activity on the adoption front, about which we are feeling strangely fine. It was as if a flash of lightning illuminated a path for us for a second, but as it turned out, it was not the path for us. How very mysterious I am being; this is what happened:

We were asked by our agency to decide if we'd like our profile to be shown to a mother of a 4 month old child who was considering "relinquishing" the baby. This was a particular case; not just because of the age of the child, but also because the mother had some requests about the openness of the adoption, keeping of the child's name, meeting us, and so on, which we were happy to agree to in principle.  [I really feel for the mother in question, needless to say; I always did, in theory, but to know of an actual person having to deal with this decision is entirely different. It has been quite a leap of understanding to realise that we are not the most vulnerable people in this situation.]

Anyway, it was not to be. I don't know if she chose another couple or changed her mind, but we are still here. The JB, endless speculator that he is, kept suggesting reasons why we weren't chosen. Maybe we looked too sporty? Maybe she didn't like school and we looked too brainy (not me)? Was she allergic to cats? Were we too far away? But that way, I persuaded him, finally, madness lies. We can be no other way that how we are and until we get further concrete suggestions on our letter from those who know about these things, I don't see any point meddling with it. After all, the cat, the (supposed) sportiness/braininess etc could as easily work in our favour with someone else. We yare what we yare, to misquote Popeye. 

So yeah. Interesting. I nearly started reading about babies, CAN YOU IMAGINE? This is a thing I have always been too superstitious to do, but when it gets real, you must prepare. (Did I ever tell you I'm afraid of very small babies? So vulnerable, elemental and sort of furled up! Agg! [Reassurance welcome, tell me they're tough little yokes, I'd like that.] I think this goes back to an incident which involves the 4 year old Twangy and a 2 year old family friend who turned out to be quite wriggly (or slippy? Hard to remember exactly), resulting in a visibly raised bump on her head, wailing, hospital visits etc. I am always glad to hear how successful she is, that little kid that was. She is quite the big noise in the Berlin theatre world! PHEW.)

What else? I did an awful webcam interview thing yesterday. Modern life, I despair. There was no one on the other end; I was essentially talking to a machine. A judgmental machine, at that. Lucky I don't even particularly want that grant, because when I watched myself back (surely something God or Nature never intended?) I was mortified by my rubber-facedness. Funny, normally I don't mind being photographed but this was AWFUL I TELL YOU AWFUL. New Year's resolution: DIAL DOWN THE GOOFINESS.

Also. The JB is learning to drive and after more than 20 lessons has been entrusted to my supervision. It is not fun, friends. I love the man, he has many gifts (NOT THIS THOUGH) but this is an experience that manages to be both tedious and terrifying, just between you and me. If there's nothing to fear but fear itself, the JB should be and is, in fact, petrified. More opportunities to reflect on our maladaptedness for modern living. Being flooded with adrenaline is only helpful when there is a tiger on the prowl; while manoeurving (sp?) a Polo around a corner at 5mph adrenaline can go and take a running jump at itself.

Ah yes. I feel better now. Thank you.
How are you?

 Another one from my Welcome to Ireland file. [Insert winning, tourist board-type, smile.]


As it happened, I did not actually forget I had a blog, but there was just so much to do.  So many grant applications to do, meetings and ideas and spaghetti to throw at the wall to see what sticks. People visited. Donkeys went lame and sound again. Parents held their own; in fact, [fingers extremely crossed] my mother is walking much better, I thought, last weekend. The weather is peculiar, the way it keeps pressing itself warmly against the windows, fogging them up, and a evening primose has bloomed, which is certainly all wrong. The world is still on fire, heaven knows, but we are here anyway, witnesses to it all, making the most of it, still hoping it can be turned around.

Still, progress is good on the adoption front, we met our agency man [agency man? That seems not quite right. Am I in Mad Men? No. Blogging muscles have gone slack. Can only write about start-up projections and specific enablers] some weeks ago, in a one of those creepy futuristic business "campuses" [campi?] with a winter garden in the atrium. He was a real breath of pine-fresh air. What a nice man! Cheered me right up, with his Adoption is All Very Possible Attitude, and actual swear words applied to the Authority! True love.

And yesterday, we finished up our renewal with the social worker, the male version of the detective. They are so alike, they speak with precisely the same ultra PC social worker lingo, smiles and cadences. It is remarkable, and it leads to wild speculation on the way home about whether they are in fact the same person, in a Michael and La Toya Jackson sort of way. 

I hope you are well, all. I conclude my dip back in the blogging waters with this photo, (taken on Thursday in Blackrock DART station, in case anyone is interested). Dublin is good at this sort of flat, pewter day.
Have good weekends, everyone.