Tuesday, August 7, 2007

I WANT NEXT WEEKEND TO BE A BANK HOLIDAY TOO........

I spent the August Bank Holiday here in our holiday home in Wexford entertaining my parents and what a pleasure it was. The Husband arrived on Friday and spent that evening in the local pub getting his fill of male testosterone fueled friendship with two nice guys who live here beside us. Well needed considering he's living with five females and a dog who's a bitch too.

I sat in the van belonging to one of the guys The Husband was out with, chatting the night away with his wife and sipping a lovely Chilean red. The guys went out for three drinks and three drinks only. Like Yeah...............

4 hours and two bottles of Chilean Red later, just as I was about to ask for a pint of water, they arrived back and I could tell that they'd all had a good night out because they were laughing a lot even when someone said something that wasn't the slightest bit funny.

Next morning I snook off with the eldest child of my loins and had lunch in a Cafe where we talked about;
Having friends who are gay.
Being dropped by friends who have new partners.
How Emo's have robbed and stolen the clothing style of punk rockers.
The benefits of knowing the basics for honors maths.
And why having 300 text messages on a good day is unfathomable to adults.

Afterwards we unsuccessfully searched all the local bookstores for two books, Clockwork Orange and Catcher in the Rye but all we could come up with was stuff like P.S. I love you and chick lit beach books young teenagers like Rachel wouldn't be seen dead carrying outside even if she was walking with them to the dustbin.

We arrived back at 3.00pm because that was the time my parents were due to arrive. And they did, with my mother swinging a bag full of wine and sweets. Because she's a lady who knows the way to peoples hearts is through their stomachs.

We dolled ourselves up for the night and headed off, clutching our tickets, for a sit- down meal in a huge marquee tent with seating for 300 that was pitched less than a hundred yards from our place. The crack was ninety and the food excellent.

A mobile hot-dog cart was brought in to feed the kids and a disco kept them entertained opposite our marquee. Popping in to check up on us and make sure that we weren't drinking too much seemed to be a priority of theirs which we totally disregarded with great joy. Everyone brought their own drinks and the vino was good, plentiful and the company even better.



In the morning everyone felt like they had been sucking on flip-flops for five days in a row. We spent the day reading every Sunday newspaper ever printed and grazing on brown bread, smoked salmon, olives and gherkins. That afternoon I cooked fillet steak with dauphine potatoes and roasted tomatoes, mushrooms, spring onions and parma ham followed by red summer berries wrapped in pastry topped off with ice-cream. That evening The Husband and I got real brave and opened a couple of bottles of Crozes Hermitage which we all drank over a couple of boards of Scrabble arguing over words like 'unpriced'.

The next day was the Bank Holiday Monday and The Husband and I were the the only ones wide awake at 8.00am......because, lets face it, alcohol is a stimulant. We drank mugs of coffee and then he drove off to buy cancer sticks, 16 newspapers, milk and bread while I sleepwalked down to the beach with two kids, two buckets, two spades, tin foil, wooden BBQ sticks, knives, spoons and the kitchen sink, for the 2007 Annual Sandcastle Competition.



At 3pm the races started on the beach. All the kids won at least one rosette and at Prize Giving we stood around along with all the other families to collect the winners rosettes and embarrass our Lara with the intensity of our clapping and cheering which we did in her honour; SHE WON SEVEN ROSETTES. SEVEN. YES...... I DID SAY SEVEN.

We cooked a full fry-up for the eight of us and ate it in half the time it took us to cook it. We drank tea and and wound down after helping the kids to collect random items for their treasure hunt, like pink golf tees, wooden spoons, red pens and safety pins then the Husband and Rachel left at 5.30pm for our family home and another week of work and my parents left at 7pm after a thorough and eventually successful search, in the lashing rain, around the majority of the mobile homes for a 'lost' 7 year old girl called Sarah.

The Husband is giving up cigarettes today.............watch this space

1 comment:

mcewen said...

What a little island of bliss. Hope that the batteries are recharged.
Best wishes