Well Robert said he wasn't so keen to be taken around anywhere on like, a car trip, so we just chilled at the house, walked around Cork a bit and played PS2.
He was here from Thursday to Monday afternoon so we certainly saw a fair bit of each other too - with me taking a few days off we got to catch up quite a lot.
Because we didn't actually DO anything, we don't have any photos of his trip - and as people only really click onto this blog to look at the pictures, I'll keep this entry short.
While he was here we did go out to Cath's accounting group function - which got us all free drinks and pizza at a local pub. We met a couple of people and have arranged to host a few of them for when the British and Irish Lions tour SA in 2009. As we probably won't be there then, I'll be on the lookout for friends to put up their hands and host the Irish!
On Sunday Cath and I cycled down for our tag rugby match but aftert standing in the pissing rain for half an hour, we realised there was a mix-up and our match had been put up on the website with the wrong time. So we now have a playoff to look forward to. If we win, we finish top of the log. If we lose, we don't make the final. Wooooooo!
What else? That's about it...
Wednesday, April 30, 2008
Monday, April 14, 2008
Get a life (email forward)
Cath sent this to me - it's pretty cool.
This was a speech made by Pulitzer Prize-winning author, Anna Quindlen
at the graduation ceremony of at American university where she was
awarded an Honorary PhD.
"I'm a novelist. My work is human nature. Real life is all I know.
Don't ever confuse the two, your life and your work. You will walk out
of here this afternoon with only one thing that no one else has. There
will be hundreds of people out there with your same degree: there will
be thousands of people doing what you want to do for a living. But you
will be the only person alive who has sole custody of your life. Your
particular life. Your entire life. Not just your life at a desk or
your life on a bus or in a car or at the computer. Not just the life
of your mind, but the life of your heart. Not just your bank accounts
but also your soul.
People don't talk about the soul very much anymore. It's so much
easier to write a resume than to craft a spirit. But a resume is cold
comfort on a winter's night, or when you're sad, or broke, or lonely,
or when you've received your test results and they're not so good.
Here is my resume: I am a good mother to three children. I have tried
never to let my work stand in the way of being a good parent. I no
longer consider myself the centre of the universe. I show up. I
listen. I try to laugh. I am a good friend to my husband. I have tried
to make marriage vows mean what they say. I am a good friend to my
friends and them to me. Without them, there would be nothing to say to
you today, because I would be a cardboard cut out. But I call them on
the phone and I meet them for lunch. I would be rotten, at best
mediocre, at my job if those other things were not true.
You cannot be really first rate at your work if your work is all you
are. So here's what I wanted to tell you today: Get a life. A real
life, not a manic pursuit of the next promotion, the bigger pay
cheque, the larger house. Do you think you'd care so very much about
those things if you blew an aneurysm one afternoon or found a lump in
your breast?
Get a life in which you notice the smell of salt water pushing itself
on a breeze at the seaside, a life in which you stop and watch how a
red-tailed hawk circles over the water, or the way a baby scowls with
concentration when she tries to pick up a sweet with her thumb and
first finger.
Get a life in which you are not alone. Find people you love, and who
love you. And remember that love is not leisure, it is work. Pick up
the phone. Send an email. Write a letter. Get a life in which you are
generous. And realize that life is the best thing ever, and that you
have no business taking it for granted. Care so deeply about its
goodness that you want to spread it around. Take money you would have
spent on beer and give it to charity. Work in a soup kitchen. Be a big
brother or sister. All of you want to do well. But if you do not do
good too, then doing well will never be enough.
It is so easy to waste our lives, our days, our hours, and our
minutes. It is so easy to take for granted the colour of our kids'
eyes, the way the melody in a symphony rises and falls and disappears
and rises again.It is so easy to exist instead of to live.
I learned to live many years ago. I learned to love the journey, not
the destination. I learned that it is not a dress rehearsal, and that
today is the only guarantee you get. I learned to look at all the good
in the world and try to give some of it back because I believed in it,
completely and utterly. And I tried to do that, in part, by telling
others what I had learned. By telling them this: Consider the lilies
of the field. Look at the fuzz on a baby's ear. Read in the back yard
with the sun on your face.
Learn to be happy. And think of life as a terminal illness, because if
you do, you will live it with joy and passion as it ought to be
lived".
This was a speech made by Pulitzer Prize-winning author, Anna Quindlen
at the graduation ceremony of at American university where she was
awarded an Honorary PhD.
"I'm a novelist. My work is human nature. Real life is all I know.
Don't ever confuse the two, your life and your work. You will walk out
of here this afternoon with only one thing that no one else has. There
will be hundreds of people out there with your same degree: there will
be thousands of people doing what you want to do for a living. But you
will be the only person alive who has sole custody of your life. Your
particular life. Your entire life. Not just your life at a desk or
your life on a bus or in a car or at the computer. Not just the life
of your mind, but the life of your heart. Not just your bank accounts
but also your soul.
People don't talk about the soul very much anymore. It's so much
easier to write a resume than to craft a spirit. But a resume is cold
comfort on a winter's night, or when you're sad, or broke, or lonely,
or when you've received your test results and they're not so good.
Here is my resume: I am a good mother to three children. I have tried
never to let my work stand in the way of being a good parent. I no
longer consider myself the centre of the universe. I show up. I
listen. I try to laugh. I am a good friend to my husband. I have tried
to make marriage vows mean what they say. I am a good friend to my
friends and them to me. Without them, there would be nothing to say to
you today, because I would be a cardboard cut out. But I call them on
the phone and I meet them for lunch. I would be rotten, at best
mediocre, at my job if those other things were not true.
You cannot be really first rate at your work if your work is all you
are. So here's what I wanted to tell you today: Get a life. A real
life, not a manic pursuit of the next promotion, the bigger pay
cheque, the larger house. Do you think you'd care so very much about
those things if you blew an aneurysm one afternoon or found a lump in
your breast?
Get a life in which you notice the smell of salt water pushing itself
on a breeze at the seaside, a life in which you stop and watch how a
red-tailed hawk circles over the water, or the way a baby scowls with
concentration when she tries to pick up a sweet with her thumb and
first finger.
Get a life in which you are not alone. Find people you love, and who
love you. And remember that love is not leisure, it is work. Pick up
the phone. Send an email. Write a letter. Get a life in which you are
generous. And realize that life is the best thing ever, and that you
have no business taking it for granted. Care so deeply about its
goodness that you want to spread it around. Take money you would have
spent on beer and give it to charity. Work in a soup kitchen. Be a big
brother or sister. All of you want to do well. But if you do not do
good too, then doing well will never be enough.
It is so easy to waste our lives, our days, our hours, and our
minutes. It is so easy to take for granted the colour of our kids'
eyes, the way the melody in a symphony rises and falls and disappears
and rises again.It is so easy to exist instead of to live.
I learned to live many years ago. I learned to love the journey, not
the destination. I learned that it is not a dress rehearsal, and that
today is the only guarantee you get. I learned to look at all the good
in the world and try to give some of it back because I believed in it,
completely and utterly. And I tried to do that, in part, by telling
others what I had learned. By telling them this: Consider the lilies
of the field. Look at the fuzz on a baby's ear. Read in the back yard
with the sun on your face.
Learn to be happy. And think of life as a terminal illness, because if
you do, you will live it with joy and passion as it ought to be
lived".
What's new on this blog?
WHAT'S NEW YOU ASK? ...
Hurling in the park
Climbing an Irish mountain
Cath's fam's trip to Cork
Easter with Emma
St Paddy's day - parade et al
Check it out by scrolling down... don't worry, I know you only look at the pictures!
Oh... and check out the links to the blogs of Hayley, Madz and Emma on the right...
Thursday, April 10, 2008
Hurling in the park
HOORLIN
Well I took these cool photos when we went down to the park and it seemed a shame to NOT include em on the blog, even though I've done something similar before.
This time it was David, Emma, Cath and I that whacked away.
Emma's got the style...
Waiting patiently for David to hit it over her head... again!
David... well he has that Catherine 'tongue out the corner of the mouth when hitting the ball' thing going. I tried to capture it but couldn't quite...
Keeping his eye on the ball - I taught him well!
The scenic wide angle shot.
It's supposed to go in the air - damn those hockey-playing skills.
And then, lectures attended for the day, the real star appeared and showed the young ones how it's done!
So stylish. Dad would be proud no-doubt of that golf swing stance.
However, missing the ball was not part of the script...
And here... well I took this photo so I know, she didn't miss the ball - it may look like it and make sense, given the ball being behind the hurley, but she connected this one and it went forward before spinning wildy after bouncing and coming back to rest at her feet. 20 euro says you couldn't do that again.
And then the battle began - David chasing Cath who went on a bit of a solo run. Of course giraffe-boy covered twice the ground Catherine covered in half the steps.
We'll be coming round the mountain...
CROAGH PATRICK
Legend has it that St Patrick climbed up Croagh Patrick (pronounced Croke Patrick) and stayed up there for 40 days. We weren't so keen on sticking around THAT long, but it was on Cath's and my to-do list, so we headed up.
We started the day with a hearty breakfast, not yet sure whether we were climbing or not. We wanted to, but the weather report said miserable weather - and there's nowhere to hide on the mountain when the rain comes down. As it turns out, we didn't have to worry about rain - it was the snow that caught us cold!
This is what awaited us - okay it isn't as high as Table Mountain - at about 700m it's a good 300m shorter - but unless you're taking the Platteklip route, the end of Croagh patrick is quite a bit steeper. Still, it was a good laugh.
The walkers... near the bottom. I had an extra pair of pants (that's trousers to any non South Africans out there) in my bag and demanded Emma wear them cos just looking at her was giving me shivers. She refused until eventually, half way up, I felt her legs - they were like icycles and turning slightly bluish - I insisted and we made the exchange.
Ah, now she's in longs. And the sun came out and soon we were all melting. Thanks A LOT Alan!
Super Cath half way up. Mom slogs on...
NEARLY THERE
The final stretch...
The view...
ON THE TOP OF THE WORLD - WELL, MAYO ANYWAY
Emma finally got her snow, even if it was just a few handfulls.
Honestly... will you look at theses two above ... acting like children...
Heh heh... oops. I guess playing with snow makes everyone a child.
Us at the top... look at me, I'm taller than big Dave!
Then, while one minute we were staring out over Clew Bay, admiring the view...
The next minute the silence (for the religious making this Holy pilgrimage up to the top of the mountain) was broken by Cath screaming HOLY CRAP! LOOK AT THIS CLOUD!
The fog moved in covering everything around except this small gap. We couldn't see more than 20 metres - and we still had to get down. But it wasn't rain luckily. It was just a bit of a snow storm...
... which we negotiated carefully on our way down. You can see the snow pelting in as we pose for this photie!
AND BACK DOWN
And before no-time we were back down again, watching a lil lamb make its way across the river and posing with St paddy.
One more thing on the to do list ticked off.
Now for Antrim and the Giant's Causeway!
Up to Achill - Heanys to Ireland
Heanys do Achill
Service with a smile... we were there to greet the Heanys as they walked through the doors of Cork airport. It had been a long time, so we had a sign with us in case we didn't recognise each other.
I scored in a big way. There was an SA Sports Illustrated, a (SA) Sunday Times, nestle hot choc - the best hot choc in the world, some fancy shmancy aftershave, an uber-cool Liverpool mug, an uber-cool Liverpool uno game and a few sweets and chocs. Woohoo. You're welcome back any time guys.
That reminds me - when it was my birthday, I was greeted with about 40 new messages - mostly from facebook telling me so-and-so had wriitten me a bday msg on my wall. I thought I'd take a screenshot cos it amused me so.
Back to the present - Mom and Big Dave
Emma had only been away for about a month, so it wasn't long before things were back to normal...
However Cath and I had decided to take them off to Achill Ireland in the north west of the Republic with a climb up a mountain the following morning.
After quite a drive we arrived on the Ireland and showed them around a bit. The weather was playing '4 seasons in one day' again, but we got in a few good views before being swept off our feet by the wind and sleet.
Achill is a Gaeltacht area - an area where Irish / Gaelic is widely spoken, so a few of their signs were a bit tough to fathom. Still we found our way.
We then drove up to a viewpoint where Cath did her sexy look - or should that be 'sexy look' for me again (see Emma's last trip here) and the youngsters had a quick look out over the Atlantic before darting back into the warmth of the car where we blasted the air con onto lava temp to defrost our hands and faces. The car said it was 4 degrees but with the gale force wind whipping us too, it must have been a tad colder.
At this pub, Mommy H got her first view of what the Irish girls tend to wear on a night out, irrespective of the temperature. She needed to sit down. It was about 4 degrees outside and there was a group of girls dressed as if it was beach weather. One girl in particular was showing more skin than the rest put together - but only cos she was about three times as fat as the others. COVER THYSELF WOMAN! WE DON'T NEED TO SEE THAT! I suppose you have to hand it to her - clearly she was on the pull and she was going to get some!
Unfazed by what was normal pub behaviour, we pulled out the cards once we'd finished our meal (which was great) and began a few rounds of poor man's bridge - which Cath's mom normally kichs ass at. I Can't remember who won, all I know is that I still suck as much as I ever did! Bloody Heany card sharks!
There was also a bit of music from some geezer in the corner but it wasn't good enough to keep us there past midnight so we headed back to the hostel...
... where we were woken up at abot 4am by a group of lads returning from their night out.
Ah but we didn't need our sleep - it wasn't as if we were climbing amountain or anything the next morning!
And so with the weather still in two (or three) minds we wen't for a morning drive around the island, not sure whether we were actually going to climb or not. There were a few more pleasant sights.
And when we came across a beach, some genius decided it would be a good idea to run to the water and touch it - this, once again, being in the pouring rain / sleet with a howling gale to boot. Mom and I decided to film the experience for them. Hey, it was hard, but somone had to.
And you can check out the film if I can ever upload it here.