WOMAN ON THE VERGE: September’s like the July we never had

We should have seen this one coming really. As soon as the school uniforms came out of the wardrobe last week, the sun came out in force too, of course. But, sure, who’s complaining? We’ll take it gladly.

• BOILER alert! I was flipping right about the Indian summer, wasn’t I? If I was on the sidelines of a GAA match I’d be roaring ‘blow it up ref for the love of god!’ But seems like Mother Nature has other ideas.

• Forecasters scared the life out of me ahead of Storm Betty so I had cleared the patio furniture away, but on day three of the sweltering conditions I caved and hauled them all out again, and once I let go of any residual resentment it was absolutely fabulous. The BBQ is back in full swing, and homework is being long fingered for after-school swims.

I imagine this must be what it’s like being in Summer Bay. These bonus beach days have been incredible – even if they were a reminder of how it might have been during that (very) long July.

I spotted Micheál Martin having a dip at our local beach the other day, and I was going to approach him to see if Minister Norma Foley would give the kids a few days off school, but I got knocked over by a wave and missed my chance. Wouldn’t it be a nice gesture, though?

• Anyway, we took advantage of the lovely weather one of the afternoons and finally got around to doing something that was on our list all summer, and went to walk alpacas just outside Union Hall. I’d highly recommend it for the views over to Rabbit Island alone. Throw in docile alpacas (they actually only spit at each other) and you get a fun activity for all ages. We went with our cousins and the alpacas we got to walk around with were called Taco, Mica, and Tiny. Others were called Paddy, Percy, Choco, and Honey, and one was cuter than the other.

It was love at first sight for all of us and rubbing their incredibly soft little heads produced as much serotonin as a 10km run (obviously that’s just my opinion). We even got to pick blackberries along the route and hand-feed them, which was ridiculously cute. Typically, the kids were looking for a gift shop after, but mercifully there wasn’t any, nothing but glorious views to soak up. More reason for joy.

Emma and family went to walk alpacas just outside Union Hall. She highly recommends it for the views over to Rabbit Island alone. (Photo: Shutterstock).

• In other good news, my faith in humanity has been restored by a chap called Barry (or Brian?). I’ve been trying to get a particular banking issue sorted since the start of the summer without any success. To be fair, and through no fault of my own or anyone else, I didn’t have some necessary documents which would otherwise have made the procedure very straightforward. I’ve spent an awful lot of time on hold with various organisations, I’ve sent an awful lot of emails, and been sent around an awful lot of houses, and the message was always the same: ‘sorry but the computer says no.’ I was actually going to give up on the whole thing entirely even if it meant being out of pocket, until I met Barry (or Brian) in Bank of Ireland, Clonakilty. 

I was there on another matter entirely, and happened to explain my predicament to him, and without any fuss or fooster, he found a way to make the computer say yes, proving again to me that a bit of cop-on goes an awful long way. For sure the world needs more Barrys (or Brians)!

• And what about that lady who had an 8cm worm in her head in New South Wales? God, I was properly shook after it, I’ll tell you. Initially I didn’t take the time to read the article properly so I thought one had actually crawled in through her nostril or ear, and I figured I’d be safe enough as there was a good chance I’d notice something like that happening. But no! It was far more freaky. Medics believe she was infected with the parasite from touching native grass and transferring the eggs to food or kitchen utensils, or after eating the greens. I mean, what are the chances? The mere thought of even head lice has me in a tizzy, so now I’m imagining all sorts. Most unsettling and unnerving. Where’s an alpaca to rub when you need one!

• In case anyone is vaguely interested (precisely no one I know, but I sometimes confuse this column with a form of therapy), I found the whole ‘going back to school’ regime harder this year than any other (although probably not as hard as Enoch Burke. Mind blowing). This is the first year I don’t have to chaperone my smallie up to the school steps, or collect her from the same spot. I figured we’d get to that routine in a few weeks’ time but I’ve been ditched since the first morning and am under strict orders not to put as much as a foot out of the car.

As she headed off down the path and out of sight I couldn’t help but worry. What if she was abducted? Unlikely, but you’d never know. Or snatched by a seagull? They’re fierce around here. Or if she takes a mad figary and goes on the hop? Or worst of all, what if she doesn’t need me anymore? I was more emotional than any of her other milestones, so I did what I always do when I need consoling and rang my mother who rightly told me to cop on and that I should be grateful that she headed off without a backward glance. True. And, sure you’ll always need your mother … won’t you?

• Finally, Covid is sneaking back into conversations again a bit isn’t it? I know quite a few people who have been suffering from the virus over the past week and have been more unwell than on previous occasions. 

Naturally the same fear and hysteria isn’t there but whatever strain is doing the rounds seems to be nasty enough. Eris is what health officials say we’ve got circulating here, while a variant called Pirola is causing some concern in the UK. I have noticed more people wearing masks here of late, but in this heat I wouldn’t fancy it. Keep washing those hands and get plenty of vitamin sea when you can.