Saturday Speakeasy

Yo. Blowing fog today. Wind and fog. Very San Francisco. Wind has stirred up the ubiquitous scent of dairy product production, that is to say, manure. A frequent reminder that we no longer live in the city...

My four day week shortened to three days after another strange stomach bug: between headaches and funky belly it seems I've been ill more the last 5 months than the last 5 years.

We've been watching Spring Watch on BBC2 this week. Each autumn and spring BBC devotes an hour a night for three weeks to check in on how spring is getting on. This year they're on a farm in Devon and on the Scottish island of Islay (pronounced eye-la), home of some truly wonderful single malt whiskies and wildlife. Including a Golden Eagle aerie. If you check out the website, you'll get to see lots of the wildlife we've been following this week. In our garden Spring Watch, the local birds have found the feeder again. Greenfinches, gold finches, chaffinches, and blue tits have been busy picking at our wares. Nice bit o' colour.

In case you missed it, Ireland held national elections last week, with the incumbent party coming out on top. Not enough on top to be able to go into government solo, so the horse trading has begun. Bertie Ahern, the Taoiseach (pronounced TEE-shock) or Prime Minister, is in for a third time: unprecedented in the Republic's history. All the more so given the fact that he's up to his ears in financial scandal. Despite all the hub-bub, people vote for him because he's such a likable guy. In several polls asking which candidate would you rather share a pint with, Bertie thrashes the competition. Hence his popularity and electoral success. We've actually had pints in his favourite pub and haunt, Fagan's in Dublin. If you've ever heard us tell the story of Desmond the retired cop and "Polly, the most beautiful girl in the world," then you know about Fagan's. Great craic.

We're busy on a tidying day: preparing for the imminent arrival of our stuff, scheduled for this coming Friday. Finally! Fingers crossed that it actually happens. PK is particularly excited for the rest of our wardrobes arriving. She's been in one suitcase worth of clothes since March, and is, well, restless. I'm excited for the butcher block and real cookware. And me hiking boots.

Speaking of, PK is busy tidying without me so I will sign off.

Till next time, Slainte.