Réiteach na faidhbe

Ag breathnu ar Just for laughs (God it’s hard to blog on my mobile in irish). I gCeanada de reir dealraimh deireann daoine ‘Bonjour Hello’. Má freagraitear bonjour leantar i bhfraincis, hello leantar i mbearla. Dia dhuit hello aon duine?

Is she really going out in them? (The Twitterers made me)

White pointed toes shoes side lacesWhipped up into a frenzy by a ridiculous Twitter chat in relation to Joe Jackson’s shoes and convinced I could find anything online I have just purchased these delectable items. It will make up for the Peter Pan booties that I didn’t buy in Amsterdam last October. Himself will not be impressed. Mind you he was talking about buying the neighbour’s garden from them earlier because their luscious crop of dandelions are upsetting him and his weed related OCD. However, we could probably use the contents of our drinks cabinet to pay for the neighbours’ garden. The solicitors fees would be the biggest cost involved.

What’s this button for?

Don’t miss StarLittleThing tomorrow (Thurdsay) night in the Button Factory from 8ish. I won’t be there I will be squarely at home working on my last assignments ever of my MSc. Roll on May 17th and the next hectic phase of my life. Night night

Move over Darina

I’m thinking of starting a slow-blogging movement. I can’t keep up. Damien Mulley gave me a mention on Friday and I haven’t had a chance to query his terminology. At least I can be intuigthe i ndá teanga, wha’? And how does he not know who I am when I offered my linguistic brilliance for judging best use of Irish in a blog in the Blog Awards? Mmmmm right back atcha.

He has an interesting post in the last few days as well about repeat winners of awards. I think limiting repeat wins is good approach. Má oibríonn sé d’Oireachtas na Gaeilge… In fact if you win Corn Uí Riada three times ever you aren’t allowed enter ever again. No fear there for me either.

N’fheadar céard é an Ghaeilge ar name-dropping? clú clamparáil… Dearídeoir… clú caiteoir no I think it has to be clú leagaire or ainm leagaire.

leagaire\2/ {.nm.} =
<1> pert girl|
saucy girl|
<2> tattler|

Himself is really settling into his new role as stay-at-home-dad. He hasn’t added the nippers into the mix yet. He’s going to finally get really good at the Crosaire and the nippers will finish up in the creche. He’s out at the moment hence my current online status, halfwatching telly.

Leaba anois. Oíche mhaith.

My heart skips a beat

I recently made the online acquaintance of a notorious Irish DJ that goes by the name of Rick O’Shea. He writes a very amusing, accessible and open blog with a pop-cultural bent obviously. For example, today he writes about songs that you wouldn’t normally been drawn to but for some reason make you stop and draw breath. I know exactly what he means. Similar to him that Dixie Chicks song caught my attention but I think it was the accompanying video that did it for me. It’s rare enough that I would see music videos these days. I can also think of a few tracks that make me stop and pull a full on thousand yard stare. I remember when I was expecting S. nearly bawling in a sandwich shop one lunchtime on hearing “Fix You” by Coldplay. And “Vito’s Ordination” was another one that set me off during that pregnancy. When I’m not pregnant I’m a hard hearted bitch and the only songs that make me cry are the really bad ones. And hearing the really cheesy ones that made me cry when I was pregnant but they’re tears of embarrassment. All my emotions are expressed through water erupting from my eyes.

But no I cannot say I am hard-hearted while I am sitting here, looking out the window at Himself and the Eldest gardening. They’re very cute in their matching wellies and jeans. Considering the Eldest was spewing his guts up yesterday it is definitely a heartwarming sight. And speaking of pregnancy Himself deserves no feeling of any kind from me after his behaviour yesterday evening. In what he claims was meant to be a romantic gesture, he snuck up behind me, put his arms around my middle, grabbing two handfuls of belly (:( I’m afraid so)and said, “You’re not pregnant, are you?” Hi-bloody-larious. Romance is definitely not dead in our gaff.

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