unironedman

Life has been busy of late, though since the Slieve Bloom Way, not so much in terms of running. A few, short ones, plus a good deal of walking, and a few dips in the lake. As compensation, I spent a lot of hours watching the Olympics, in the hope that some of that incredible athleticism would be absorbed through some form of telekinetic osmosis. Reader, it was not. But on the plus side, Ireland had its best ever outing at the Games, which was encouraging.

I’ve also tried to resurrect my career as a super-fit body builder by actually going into the gym. It’s been a sobering experience to see how those gains I made last year ebbed away. I’m pretty much back to where I started, and conscious of the spinal injury all the time when I’m putting any strain on it. In fairness, it hasn’t shown any problems so far, unlike the left wrist, which will never be right again (oh no you didn’t! ed.). On the plus side, I am alive to tell the tale.

The week threw up a classic ‘God opening and closing doors’ life lesson. Or, as my Dad used to say, ‘God never closes one door but he slams another on your fingers…’

The family headed over to Oxford on Friday of last week for the wedding of my brother’s eldest son, Adam, to Emily. The journey over was a little tense, mainly because I made the mistake of hiring a car through RyanAir, whose depot, in classic RyanAir fashion, is not anywhere near the actual airport when it comes to picking up your vehicle. With the sun beating down, and Mum in a wheelchair, we had the potential for disaster. That said, I’m talking about First World Problem-style disaster. Once that mystery of where the car was located was solved and we finally got on the road, we were all able to relax a little. Until I missed the turn-off for the hotel with 60 seconds to go on our journey of about 90 minutes and we had to detour 5 miles up and back the motorway…

That was just a glitch in what turned out to be a fabulous weekend. It was, quite literally, a flying visit, so we didn’t really get to appreciate Oxford in anything other than a passing glimpse. But S and I managed a night-time stroll on the Friday, to savour the atmosphere. Then we had the whole Saturday with the extended family and friends at what was the most charming and wonderful wedding.

The service was in the town hall and the reception afterwards was back at the bride’s parents’ house. The attention to detail was magnificent. There were marquees in the walled garden, tables and chairs amongst the orchard, games for the children, copious amounts of drink for the adults, music, speeches and lots and lots of love for the happy couple.

We returned the following morning for brunch (why waste a good marquee?) and then slipped back into town for a last look around with the kids, making sure to see Magdalen College (one of Adam’s Alma Maters; he also went to Cambridge, smart fella!), and have an ice cream whilst watching tourists try and come to terms with punting along the Cherwell. Given current trends in health and safety, it’s positively refreshing to see they still allow folk from around the world try and come to terms with what is essentially stand-up paddle boarding on a river full of other folk in the same nonplussed situation. I guess the river is quite shallow 🙂

Sunday was a hot day, and it was to be 30 degrees on Monday. But not in Ireland. Oh no. We boarded the plane around 8 o’clock in the evening, and it was still incredibly warm with blue skies to the horizon. As we reached Anglesey, I spied a few soft clouds. Then the sea appeared, briefly, before being swallowed by a thick bank of cumulus. As we continued out over the Irish Sea, towering cumulonimbus grew to the north, and as we reached the Irish coastline, we started to hit some of these, and experienced the sort of nasty turbulence that causes chatty conversation to die out rapidly, and makes a few nervous folk splutter and cough like an over-choked, two-stroke engine.

That’s when I saw the lightning.

I was trying to identify landmarks below, as you normally fly into Dublin Airport directly from the east. But the weather, I suspect, had made us divert further south and we approached the runway from the west, and landed under very dark and ominous skies. It had clearly chucked it down not long before we landed, but for now, the rain was holding off.

We once again used the scissor lift truck for my Mum, and I would like to mention here how lovely all the staff are at both Luton and Dublin. Then it was back to the car in the long term car park, swing back to the airport to collect the family, and home. All the while, lightning continued to flash off to the north.

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I had received news over the weekend that a dear friend of my parents had passed away. The funeral was on Wednesday in our local church.

RIP, Helen. I loved your homemade yoghurt, your lovely engaging smile and your gentle good humour. You were always a joy to be around.