… dust to dust.


Not many devout Catholics with the ash mark on their forehead to be found on the streets of Dun Laoghaire today.

It has to be said that I barely managed to tear myself away from my Screen of Miseries for 25 short minutes, and that the weather was so appalling that most of the people around George’s Street had hats and caps pullet down to their eyebrows.


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Ashes to ashes…

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Three brothers


The three brothers R were all born in the house next to the cemetery, there, in the background.

And now they all rest side by side, here, in the foreground. Jean-Marie, André, Raymond.

Three lives closely entertwined, from start to finish, within a hundred yards.

Things were a lot more localised, back in the days.

This sort of thing could not happen nowadays. No way.

There is no WiFi in the old house…

Divine apparition in Glasthule

Divine apparition in Glasthule

And there was light.
Or rather lights. Two of them.

What one can find in Buckley’s on auction day is nothing short of miraculous.

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Let there be light

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Chocolate ain’t good for you…

moused killed in a trap

Exit stage left, pet rodent…

As usual, I had mixed feelings this morning when I found out that our stowaway pet had seen an abrupt end to its cruise on the LÉ Mememe2U.

On the one hand, I cannot help but feel sorry for the little bugger. And there was much protesting from Mimi, who tried really really hard to make a case for the cute little rodent (“but Papa, it’s only trying to make a living, it’s only living off crumbs and little bits of food, it’s not bothering us at all”). And I totally see her point. It is a cute little creature, healthy, with a shiny coat, and shiny jet black eyes, and lovely little whiskers.

On the other hand, there is one word that does not have echoes of cuteness for me: infestation. And there is such a thing as an overdose of cuteness. When the cuteness reproduces at an alarming rate.

So farewell, cute little rodent. I know that the end was quick. Those mouse traps are terribly effective at achieving what they were designed to do. What a timeless, classic design too.

You had the choice between the cheese and the chocolate. Your sweet tooth was your Achilles’ heel.

You also helped me to reinforce a point to Mimi, the great defender of small cute rodents (she bought you at least three extra weeks of careless crumbs hoovering chez mememe2U): chocolate ain’t good for you.

Brave Dave, having a good look inside

Brave Dave, taking a good look inside

David grabbed his tool belt, fastened it and climbed to the top of the ladder.
He opened the hatch cautiously and took a peek inside.

Without a word, he closed the hatch again, shaking his head.

He climbed down the ladder, very carefully.

He unfastened his belt and put it in the boot of his van.

And drove off.

Still shaking his head.

Far from me the intention to needlessly alarm you, but it looks like cloud computing is well and truly bollixed…

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St Dave, Patron Saint of Cloud Computing



Not a great Monday morning.

For me, when I sneaked a quick peek at my inbox (what was I thinking?!)
For Gully the gull, with the eyes wider than the beak, upon realising that the plaice that he had nicked from the trawler would be of little use to him.
For the misplaced plaice. So close from the sea (50 meters at the most).

Yet so far.

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Feeling somewhat out of plaice



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The very rare smile