DIARY OF A DEMENTED HOME WORKER: It’s week 71, we’re considering a house swap, I’m wondering if Michael O’Leary will head to space, and I can’t wait for some Olympic fun and games
• SO like lots of working parents my husband and I have tried to plan the summer out so that one of us has time off every other week or so to make up for the fact that neither of us had the cop on to be a teacher, to solve the issue of seasonal childcare, to reduce parental guilt and because we forgot to book the five-year-old into any camps. We were going through the calendar the other night and we spotted there’s the bones of a week where we’re overlapping. Poor planning on our part I know, but it’s too late to change days now, so we’ve marked it in as ‘The Family Holiday?’ The question mark is significant as we’ve nothing booked. Call me jaded and cynical (no seriously, go ahead, it sums me up pretty well), but I’m reserving my enthusiasm for the day when I don’t have to include ‘family friendly’ in my Google searches when planning a break away. Hotel rooms with enough beds to resemble a school dorm, early birds and a kiddie disco? I’ll be honest, it’s going to bring me out in a (heat) rash. Besides, even those options are booked solid until September.
• So that’s why we’re currently considering a house swap. When I say considering, I mean my husband is trying to convince me but I’m not sure I’ve the energy. It would involve getting rid of all evidence that points to me leading a mediocre life, and staging a really dazzling version of myself. So that would mean removing all dodgy books from the shelves (especially anything self-help related), dumping everything out of date in the pantry (please say I’m not the only one who hangs on to chickpeas best before 2018? There’s a voice in my head saying I’d need them in the event of a zombie invasion), and finally getting around to framing family pictures where we’re doing fun, interesting stuff (there was that one time we went on a boat trip, and if we crop it the right way it might look like we own it), or there’s surely one from that pre-Covid ski trip (honestly we weren’t the ones who brought it home with us). We’d also have to fix the toilet seat, buy new bed linen, get the windows cleaned, and hook up the driveway lights. I’m thinking by the time that’s all done that you might as well enjoy your hard work and stay put. No?
• Speaking of boat trips we’re also entertaining a notion of renting a boat on the Shannon. I did it years ago when I was a kid and it’s a great break. Also I have a strong nautical theme going on in my summer wardrobe. It could work. But a quick search tells me the high-end boats are all taken (ones where you could imagine yourself sipping Aperol on the sun deck, while feverishly jotting down the bones of your novel). What’s left are a bit less appealing and I think our hardworking RNLI volunteers have enough going on without people like me trying to satisfy our inner Tim Severin. Of course we could just hold out for when space tourism goes mainstream. Richard Branson made it there and back on his Virgin Galactic rocket on Sunday. And rival Jeff Bezos’ Blue Origin said on Twitter that it would take clients higher and offer bigger windows when they launch later this month. Surely it’s only a matter of time before Michael O’Leary gets in on the act? He mightn’t actually get you to the ‘final frontier,’ but probably just a short shuttle rocket ride away. How bad.
• I’ve a new guilty pleasure I feel it’s my duty to share. It’s a new Netflix series called The Parisian Agency. It’s a real estate docu-drama, centered around a Parisian luxury real estate family business run by three exceptionally good looking brothers, and their parents (with a hipster granny thrown in for good measure). Basically a French version of Selling Sunset, only far more tasteful, which means it’s less interesting but we did we mention the good looking brothers right? Who speak French?
•I’m feeling massive sympathy for all those restaurant owners figuring out the complexities of indoor dining this week. The old line ‘your name’s not on the list, you’re not coming in tonight,’ is taking on a whole new meaning. The hoops they have to go through before even telling their guests that evening’s specials sounds exhausting. So let’s all ‘buy into’ it, and buy a desert and extra coffee while we’re at it to show our full support.
• Now that the Euros are (finally) over (my favourite bit was Roy Keane moving the cups so they wouldn’t spill when the rest of his ITV team went wild at England’s first goal. Class!), it’s all about the Olympics. And we’ve lots of talent flying the West Cork flag. See next week’s Southern Star for more.