The Irish Summer. It never fails to deliver.

Didn’t stop us from swimming though. Yep, we are hardcore.

the Irish weather

dublin, Ireland

more rain predicted for Dublin, live with it!

dublin bay surfers

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Hardcore!

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Rather incredibly we had both!

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There’s no sun haze without sun…

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While Mrs mememe2u was checking out the arts festival in Kilkenny, the kids and I went for a relaxing walk to Dalkey hill and Killoiney beach.

The main topic of conversation was what would be the fastest death.
We estimated death from being stabbed in the heart at between 10 and 15 seconds.
They reckoned that the guillotine would be a pretty nifty exit, with very little time to feel much pain. But a bit messy.

Then we talked about cross breeding between species, and the possibility of recreating dinosaurs from reasonably preserved DNA.

All in all a nice, relaxing walk and chat.

Then we had Chinese dumplings.

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Relaxing death talk

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The kids and I went for a walk up Dalkey and KIlliney hills for a bit of exercise.
It seems that 28,000 other people (and their 17,000 dogs) happened to have the same idea, at the same time.
The road to the car park was fun, with its dozens of illegally parked cars on a stretch of road than can only accommodate the width of two cars.
I am always surprised by the great number of walkers terrified at the idea of a bit of walking.

Mimi was practising her teenage behaviour.
She got it totally wrong… She did have her headphones on for the whole walk, but still talked to us rather than just sulk and look at the tip of her wellies. Also, Lloyd Cole’s Antidepressant (singing to the chorus of “with my medication I will be fine”) may not have been the ultimate soundtrack to premature teenage angst (it is however the perfect soundtrack to middle-age angst).

Luca was as usual lost in his own world. He does not need headphones, a twig and enthusiastic mouth-made sound effects do the trick.

It left Finnzy-Bob who asked me to check the type of airliners flying overhead (the nicest one was the BA 777 to San Diego, California) and asked about 327 questions about the Bugatti Veyron.

All in all a great afternoon.

Except when I cut my thumb deeply while trying to fix the dishwasher’s door.
(It’s not repairable. I might however get a bit more mileage out of the thumb).

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Cornetto Hill rush hour

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The Seven Steps program

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And popular it is too.

Cornetto Hill was black with people (or else it was the dusk effect), and children (they are not real people, you know) and dogs of all sizes and shapes and degrees of placidity (or aggression).

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he aim of the Seven Steps program is too get the kids to run to the top of Cornetto hill. Not in a straight line, oh no. With many zigzags, and retracing of steps, and detours, and shortcuts, and more zigzags, and little jumps here and there, and climbing of threes.
If they have not covered a 3:1 miles ratio compared to the adults, it has not been a successful walk.

Then they run up and down the Aztec pyramid 72 trillions times, and then run around the upturned Cornetto for 74 zillion times.

Then we stop at the Cornetto hill playground before returning to the car.

Then Luca and I go for a run on the pier.
3.6k in 22 minutes. Because he was gentle with me. He never stopped talking for more than 3 seconds.
It was all about primates, and the origins of humanity, and the Jurassic period, and the Earth allegedly spinning faster on its axis with days of 21 hours 300 million year ago.

Then it was back home for pancakes (savoury and sweet).

And you’d think they’d be tired after that?

Tired, my fluffy arse…

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When good crusades go bad

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The Aztecs invaded Dalkey hill in 1323.
Their first move was to build a mini pyramid.
Then they captured Padraic O’Donnell and had him tied at the top of the pyramid, ready to be sacrificed to the Sun god.
They’d cut open his sun drenched chest with the sacrificial knife and hold his still barely beating heart aloft in the glorious rays.

After a wait of three and half years they gave up and fecked off back home to Aztecia.
It was a long, bitter and disillusioned paddle back to the motherland.
That was the end of their missionary aspirations.

Padraic O’Donnell breathed an almighty sigh of relief, set up a still on top of the pyramid and drank to the Greast Drizzle God until the end of his life three weeks later (quality potato alcohol was hard to come by in those days).

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