Welcome blast of sunshine has us all California dreaming and curating outdoor chill-out zones

SO the sun came out for around 12 minutes last week which naturally meant I’ve lost hours to researching outdoor furniture – specifically couches and day beds.

There’ll probably only be two days in the entire summer where you can leave the cushions out for more than three consecutive hours to enjoy them, and the only person who would really have time to sit on them anyway is Billy (the dog), but still, I find the idea very appealing. It sparks good vibes, this idea that I live in LA and I take my morning coffee, or no, make that a green juice outside, before the rest of the house wakes up, all tan and chill and before I go to pilates, and then casually drift on to work (in a beautifully curated lifestyle shop). I mean I should be looking for a wind breaker or a patio heater but why let reality get in the way right? The search
goes on.

I’m also feverishly trying to plan the bank holiday weekend full of ‘family fun’ activities. I am determined not to be that person who feels wildly disappointed with our choices next Monday night. Now that I think about it, if I ordered the outdoor couch now it might even be here on time and we could have a BBQ – chicken on sticks for everyone. Just no greasy hands near the new cushions please!

And of course we’re in peak Communion and Confirmation season. I had the pleasure of attending my nephew’s Confirmation in Skibbereen attended by Bishop Fintan Gavin last Friday and it was a really lovely ceremony. The Bishop gave the young people getting the sacrament really good advice I thought – he told them to be the person they were meant to be, to be their unique selves. When you’re younger that’s easier said than done but in a world of vanilla, I thought it was a great take home message – for us all. As an aside  the relics of  St Carlo Acutis, the first millennial saint, are scheduled to visit Skibbereen, around the time of the Feast of Corpus Christi in June.

Now, like the rest of us I’m sure, I had one of my regular scam phone calls from Belgium during the week. ‘They’ (who even are they?) just don’t give up, it’s so tedious. It made me wonder though, what if you were from Belgium and actually trying to call someone in Ireland? Sure you’d never get through.

On a slightly similar subject my husband has started screening his calls. When you call him now, after two or three rings it goes straight to an automated message where you’re asked to state your name and reason for calling. He said he didn’t install this, it ‘just happened,’ but strangely he’s yet to uninstall it. That’s why I’m now regularly roaring ‘your wife,’ and ‘milk’ down the phone these days. Give me strength.

Billy the dog would get the most use out of any new patio furniture.

So another random thought that struck me this week is that despite the brutal winter and spring, nature has a way of working  itself out. Everything is budding away nicely. There is a weird amount of midges around though (no one mention blue tongue) and I said I wouldn’t mention the crows again but there’s an unnatural population of them around our house. I fear they’re plotting something and they’ve the dogs driven demented. It’s nice to see all the cows back out enjoying the dry weather but I’m wondering where all the rabbits have gone? I blame the crows.

We had a free afternoon last weekend and headed off to play crazy golf. It’s always a good way to spend an afternoon. In theory. I’m not at all competitive. I’m the kind of person who would like prizes for everyone in the audience. Prizes for just showing up. Aren’t we all great? Bualadh bos etc. But my fellow two players are sticklers for the rules and take things way more seriously. We were only one hole in and memories of our last visit came flooding back to me – I’m surprised we’re not barred to be honest – and things got ugly very fast. We were probably more entertaining to the others on the course than the crazy golf itself. But I’d like to reassure readers that everyone reconciled afterwards and we all kissed and made up. More or less.

Between the jigs and the reels (you might call it bitter arguing, but I’d call it healthy exchanges) we forgot a water bottle there. We’ve a bad track record with water bottles and have left them behind all over the place. And you might think, what’s another one right? That’s definitely what my side kick was thinking as she’s been canvassing hard for the latest trend in bottles, something called an Owala (its USP is that it apparently makes sipping easier than ever. Don’t ask). I caved in before and got a Stanley, and what’s now a now long forgotten Air Up, and many others but I’ve solemnly sworn there’s not another water bottle entering the house in my lifetime. I’ve had the same bottle for over 10 years and I’m fine with that. It’s possibly doing me more harm than good as I chug back the water with all the micro plastics I’m ingesting and let’s not get into how seldom I actually wash it but my point is that we don’t need any more bottles. That’s why the next day I felt compelled to drive back to retrieve the discarded bottle (having called to make sure it was there), feeling slightly mortified (I mentioned our antics the previous day right?). This time we didn’t go near the course,  but we stopped for ice cream on the way home and all things considered we probably spent more than a new bloody bottle but at least I stuck to my guns. It’s a hard N-Owala!

Finally, spare a thought for this year’s exam students as it’s all getting real now. It sounds trite but it really will be fine.

And if you need to blow off some steam I’d recommend a round of crazy golf.