dublin, homemade festival in one's back garden, ireland, photography, shite weather

Never work with kids – or outdoors

But then again…

Went to the Family Comedy Weekend in Farmleigh yesterday.

The kids lapped it up. The comedy. And the rain.

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Stage invasion (soon curtailed by some health and safety fanatics, something about kids getting electrocuted or some other nonsense… there was loads of kids, and I am sure more to spare)

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The man with the (waterproof) walkie-talkie

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The girl who saw the mermaid

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The mermaid (the therapy bill for my kids is in the post!)

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Waterproof humour

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This is not a comedy face, but the standard expression of the Irish cyclist.

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Standard

Cycled the Greenway between Westport and Mulranny (and back, since it was so gorgeous).

And, incredibly enough, we did it in the sun (!!!) and a nice midge-eradicating breeze.

It was so beautiful I could have cried.

I still don’t know where they got the name from though… (???)

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essential parenting implements, ireland, parenting, tourism, travel

Going green

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The one in Ballycroy National Park.

On the road between Mulranny and Ballycroy, there is little lay-by with parking for 15 cars called Cleggan. It is the starting point for a most enjoyable board walk.

That board walk was entirely funded by the International Institute for the Study of Midges Feeding Habits.

Thankfully there was a most pleasant (if not life-saving) gentle breeze as we ventured deep into midge territory on a gloriously sunny morning.

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essential parenting implements, ireland, parenting, tourism, travel

Why not come with me to the bog?

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It is a very satisfying moment when, after a night of heavy showers drumming on the tent, and wondering if that feeble form of housing will withstand the 2 AM gusts of wind, you find yourself on a sun-drenched beach with not another soul in sight.

A beach to yourself.

Empty of any other form of life.

Except for the 12 billion midges gagging for a feast…

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essential parenting implements, ireland, parenting, tourism, travel

King of the beach

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In one sentence: don’t.

The kids get all enthusiastic about it, when you mention this mad idea, and it doesn’t seem all that mad at the time, on a Sunday afternoon in May, after a nice roast, and maybe a few glasses of wine too many, and you know that you won’t have the budget for a sun holiday for five in July, but you still want to give the kids a bit of summer holiday fun, something to remember when they are older, a break from YouCraft and MineTube, and you say “you know what? let’s go camping in Mayo this summer!” and they go “yeah!!!” and it all seems like a good idea.

At the time.

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Stage 1: you tell Mimi that we won’t be camping here after all.

She puts on The Face, quite confident that she’ll manage to change your mind.

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A lonesome fisherman is examining the poxitude of the weather conditions. He is in two minds about setting up his fishing rod.

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Stage 2: Let’s go an take a closer look at the camping conditions.

I’m initial feeling is somewhere between Not Optimistic and As Likely as Donald Trumpet Becoming President.

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Stage 3: Mimi has that smile. The one when she’s rather confident she will get her way in the end.

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Stage 4: Some more realistic members of the family head back for the car, and a relative state of dryness.

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Stage 5: It’s a blow for Mimi. She will not get her way. The weather really is too bad for camping. She turns on the waterworks. As if things were not wet enough already…

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Stage 6: Finn is only realising now that we will not be camping here tonight.

He is upset.

Poor little mite.

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Stage 7: Mrs mememe2U takes a walk to hide her relief and elation, now that she knows that we will not be camping here tonight.

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Stage 8: Finn takes his frustration out on the wet wet cold cold sand.

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essential parenting implements, homemade festival in one's back garden, ireland, mayo, parenting, shite weather, tourism, travel

Camping in North Mayo

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Before entering Westport, one has to address a silent prayer to Her Lady of the Wet Sheep, who in August 1896 turned rain into drizzle before the incredulous eyes of a (barely inebriated) Seamus Sweeney, who pledged there and then to build a monument in the honour of Her Lady. He eventually completed it once he sobered up.

In 1934.

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Another curiosity in Westport is Patrick The Wet Window Sills Worshiper.

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Luca thoroughly enjoyed his light lunch of soggy sliced pan

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And Mrs mememe2U indulged into a bit of spot-the-miserable-tourist entertainment

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There was no shortage of that…

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YMC

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Westport Bike Hire. Patrons please note that W.B.H. cannot be held responsible for the weather.

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Up Mayo! (but don’t forget the handbrake, just in case…)

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SMS: Honey, I think I’m going to be…

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The Style Council

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Sweets addict giving me the look…

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a splash of colour... quite literally, ireland, shite weather, tourism, travel

Westport – the shiny, cold, wet and colourful

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