A rock'n roll Easter

Happy Easter guys!! I've got some aussie chocolate! It's comfortingly good to taste aussie chocolate again. My mum brought over a few little things of chocolatey goodness with her when she came last week and I'm doing a pretty good effort with pacing their consumption. It's not that Irish chocolate's any worse, it's just a lot creamier; like their cows are not self-conscious about their fat percentage or something.

So, Mum and I have been up north for a week, doing the whole road trip in a rent-a-car thing, this time with no snow and an aussie flag fluttering on top of the car instead to announce our arrival. I learnt my lesson big time last trip when I tried to blog it, so am sticking with a simple album for this one.



http://www.facebook.com/profile.php?v=feed&id=848515383#/album.php?aid=244125&id=848515383&ref=mf

Can't view it? Get facebook! :P

The host family had been away at grandad's farm across the country so I've been house-sitting with the cousins' dog. She's a beautiful black fluffy something like a border collie and great with the kids. I decided to take her and me for a jog on the weekend. Seeing as Irish suburban backyards are so massive and all.. Once we're off on the streets runnig I start to notice all those 'You must clean up after your dog' signs that have become regular background viewing here. Of course I didnt have a dog up til now.. and now I have no pooper scooper, no bag, and definitely no will to actually do the scooping. So whenever poor cooped-up dog crouched on any patch of lawn, I would cringingly turn a blind eye and keep sprinting. Sorry dog, but I can't wait for you! I have no idea how many trails we left behind, but apparently the fines are something like 500 euros (a grand in dollars) if you're super unlucky - yikes!

Yesterday I was at an easter brunch (in Ireland, an organised brunch is regularly scheduled after midday) with the extended family, all pleasantly chatting away and being entertained by the toddlers' antics, when some lolling un-self-conscious singing starts up at irregular intervals. Everyone's exchanging baffled looks when a head pokes up over the ivy-laced wall, looking like a red-headed Bono and sounding like Bill Nighy. "Scuse me, scuse me," he says, "could i ask a question". He wants to 'borrow' a bottle of gin. "Scuse me, could i talk to the owner 'ere?" he says when the bottle has disappeared. "D'you mind if i join you all 'ere for a bit?" Well we all raise our eyebrows but this is all part of good craic it seems! "This is soo rock'n'roll!" One of the guests whispers. Over he comes unstably over the back fence, holding hostess's gin bottle in hand. My gawd he does remind me of Bill Nighy. The rock'n'roll swagger, the gawdy rings, the rolling accent. Someone explains to me that a member of the Irish band The Pogues lives next door, but no-one knows who the hell this guy is. Some random guest. He gets us to put on his Pogues cd he's carrying and casually sings along to the thumping old folk music now heaving from the living room inside. He keeps mentioning his Pogues buddy, who I gathered was still sleeping next door. This is so awesomely random. The kids and the dog didn't really think so though.