04.27.05
Posted in Sunday Times Columns at 9:30 pm by
I reached a point beyond tiredness last night. I had passed through the jet lag stage (pain across the forehead), I had done the cold sweats the night before, I stuggled to find words when speaking and I was driven to fantasising about getting some non-life threatening, non-disfiguring illness that would hospitalise me for about a week. Then I got up this morning and tried on a pair of jeans that were inches from being buttoned a fortnight ago. They fitted!! Hurraah! Now, not so comfortably that I would wear them and my poor tummy was coming over the top BUT! progess progress. It lifted me to the point where I could do my yoga and believe that life will normalise in another few weeks. Baby wakening is still erratic but I think we are on the right road.
In other news The Stag’s Head is for sale! This is the bar that I effectively grew up in. Owned for years by a Mr. Shaffrey from Cavan and then by his nephew Philip, this brilliant pub has had the same staff for about 20 years and during my years in TCD we could be there every day. They never put a telly in, and singing and snogging were banned. I asked for a cocktail once and they nearly threw me out. Whilst completely pissed one night I demanded drinks for all and waved my credit card around. Francie, one of the senior barmen took the card off me (they didn’t accept credit cards anyway), gave me a tenner and refused to let me spend any more money that night. Was I grateful the next morning. If you were heading off to a party they’d lend you a bottle or three from behind the bar and you’d replace it with an economically priced one from the Supermarket whenever you had the cash. It was traditional to go down around 5.30 and get your dinner (they did the whole meat/spuds/veg thing and great chips!) but the shift changed at 7 and they’d lose track of who paid and who didn’t so we frequently ate for free. They didn’t care because we’d just stay for the rest of the night anyway spending our money on booze. It was never a problem getting served after hours of course. During my final year in TCD things starting getting completely out of hand. We were so friendly with the barmen, they practically stopped charging us at one point. One night I was pouring my own drinks behind the upstairs bar. In gratitude we threw a party for the barmen in our rooms, offering the porters a few cans since the guys couldn’t come to the party until after midnight when Front Gate was locked. One particularly cold and taxi-less night Peter the manager got into his car and left a gang of us to a party rather than see us walk in the cold. Unfortunately I only get in a couple of times a year now. Some of the lads are still there. I hope the new owners don’t tart it up. End of an era and all that. Sigh.
Finally……check out this link (thanks to the brother for alerting me) to this Slate discussion on why abortion helps the crime rate go down! Apparently the economist in question is very well respected.
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04.25.05
Posted in Sunday Times Columns at 2:59 pm by
Haven’t been posting much for two reasons. 1. My ST job is consuming my writing time and 2. That 10 week growth spurt nearly killed me. However I think I’ve sorted out the feeding. First off I did a ‘dream feed’ for the third night last night (feeding the baby from a bottle whilst still asleep at 10.30pm). It worked! Didn’t budge till 6am. Also realised that due to extremely busy life have been cutting short the day feeds. The phone would ring or the other child would whinge and I’d take baby off the boob or he’d finish, I’d burp him and put him down. I’m making a big effort to let him finish in his own time and when he does finish I offer him the other breast. He’s much happier and is napping much better in the day time now. Poor babies. They just need time and the phone will have to ring.
On career fronts my column in the ST will be moving from the News Review section into the main paper next week as I’m standing in for Alan Ruddock who’s on holiers. This means I get to write about proper news things instead of ‘lifestyle’ issues. Now two years ago I could write 2000 words on anything because I was totally involved in politics and meeja stuff. This week I am going to have re-tune into hard news. I started this morning by listening to Morning Ireland instead of Today. The only thing that really struck me is how trivial everything sounds. I used to sneer at people that didn’t watch or listen to the news, but to be honest, you can have a reasonably functioning intellect and ignore day-to-day news quite easily. I didn’t even watch the papal inauguration yesterday. I heard he’s still smiling tho. Still thing I’m right about him (that he’s going to be quite nice).
By the way, those lambs are fattening up nicely. I watch them every day from the kitchen and I can just see them on my dinner table in a few months!
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Posted in Feminism at 2:58 pm by
You can’t have your wedding cake and eat it
They say lesbians never break up. I have to rely on what “they” tell me because I only know two lesbians. One of those isn’t even a proper lesbian because she changed her mind and moved in with a very nice chap.
By contrast I know lots of gay men, some single, some in long-term relationships. I suppose this proves women’s lack of interest in sex is such that they don’t feel obliged to declare which gender they’re not doing it with.
This lack of overt sexuality means your standard paranoid conservative voter doesn’t feel particularly threatened by two middle- class lesbians settling down together next door. Everyone can pretend they’re just sisters or spinster friends. This kind of thing went on in Victorian times relatively unquestioned.
Two men is another matter. An anxious electorate would prefer not to have to confront their own imaginations concerning the possibly perverted activities taking place between the gay couple up the street. So if you want to force the government to recognise same-sex marriages, it’s a good idea to present two respectable ladies as the test marriage rather than outcasts from the Village People.
Katherine Zappone and Ann Louise Gilligan, one such respectable couple, are currently trying to persuade the Irish state to recognise their Canadian marriage. They are clearly so harmless that even Bertie Ahern is open about his desire to give same-sex couples some form of official recognition.
Everyone agrees that same-sex couples face bureaucratic problems that can lead to financial loss as well as emotional distress. The principal loss arises when one of them dies. Since they are not next-of-kin the other partner has no rights over the disposal of the body. In some cases, the family can take the body and exclude the life-long partner from the funeral.
The Revenue Commissioners can make life even more difficult. Surviving partners have no inheritance rights and can lose a home through being forced to pay capital gains tax. Even before death, they lose out on marriage tax credits and may be denied visitation rights in hospital. No one likes to see nice people in this legal quagmire and the taoiseach’s amicable reaction offered some hope to the country’s 1,300 cohabiting same-sex couples.
Of course, what Bertie says and what Bertie allows to happen are different matters entirely. Last week the government decided to contest the legal action, for the same reason they contest all these hard luck cases; money. The Department of Finance has no interest in the social consequences of anything. They just don’t want to spend any money.
In this case, I agree with them. Same-sex couples wouldn’t be too expensive as they are so few of them. The problem is with others who’ve shacked up together. There are more than 77,000 cohabiting heterosexual couples, and allowing them to cash in on a decision recognising unmarried couples for tax purposes could cost €167m a year, according to the department.
I fully support the creation of a civil union which would give same-sex cohabitees most of the rights and protections available to married couples. In the absence of either a religious or state marriage ceremony for gay couples, they have no choice but to seek this recognition judicially.
On the other hand, heterosexual couples do have a choice: there is nothing to prevent them getting married to access all the benefits. The introduction of divorce means that even those in second relationships can now formalise their situation.
The argument centers on the definition of a marriage. To most reasonable people it is simply a religious, legal and domestic contract between two people. The religious element is the symbolic means by which the couple choose to make the contract public. To many, this is crucial; to others, irrelevant. For some, it’s the only way to get the presents. For others, their personal emotional commitment is the only symbolism they require.
The domestic bit is the way the couple organise their commitment on a daily basis, focusing on everything from the division of labour to the distribution of finance. This is up to the parties themselves and, if they don’t get this right, they won’t last too long irrespective of how much the wedding cost.
That leaves the legal bit; putting the commitment down on paper. I understand why some couples want to avoid the circus a wedding day can become. However, those wishing to circumvent the fuss and arguments that go with your standard trip down the aisle can simply pop into a register office. It takes 15 minutes and they don’t even have to tell anyone what they are doing.
Many unmarried cohabiting couples claim they don’t see why the state has to become involved in their relationship. Choosing to be together rather than being legally required to do so is all part of the romance. Their relationship is their business and no one else’s. But if they want legal benefits and legal recognition then surely they have to have a legal contract in the first place? How is it consistent to reject the need for a contract and then claim its protection? If you must insist that you do not require legal recognition of your union, then how can you expect to get legal recognition? You’re either in or you’re out.
This is another of those situations where people get exercised about their rights but refuse to acknowledge their duties and responsibilities. Why would a loving life-long partner deny their other half pension rights, an entitlement to a share in the family home, tax credits and, in the case of fathers, guaranteed access to children? If they refuse to take the opportunity available to them to make a formal commitment, then they do not have the right to get outraged at the suggestion that their arrangement is of less standing than a marriage.
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04.20.05
Posted in Irish Politics at 8:43 pm by
I waited by the TV from the moment the bells rang until the new pope appeared. I just loved the announcing guy so clearly and childishly delighting in his role and giving the thrilled wave when he had to go back in. Also relishing in the limelight was the guy holding the microphone. You couldn’t help smiling and feeling all giggly and excited. Anyway, RATZinger!!!! What a shock! No one believed he could do it, and yet, given that the Cardinals hardly know each other and given the fact that he got to do the big gig of the funeral, we shouldn’t be so surprised.
I know all the other screaming liberals are horrified but I am optimistic. Firstly, check out my previous post on the church’s stance on feminism. The letter I refer to in this post was written by Ratz.
Secondly, I am rather attracted to the idea of absolute truths. Relativism has its limits and I think the greatest happiness principle has its merits. If he could be persuaded to move on the condoms in Africa issue then I’d let him stick by his anti-abortion, anti-homosexual theories. Membership of the church isn’t compulsory. If the gays don’t like it, fine…find a church that does want you..like the Anglicans. No one forces you to be a Catholic and its not like Ratz can send out police to round up the homos….unlike Bush. Wasn’t there some case last year where police burst into some guy’s house, caught him in the act and arrested him? Must research that. The condoms one is different because that is actually sending people to their deaths and I think theologically they must be able to get around it via the ‘double effect rule’. This is the rule that says, for example you could remove the uterus of a dying woman if that would save her life. It would also result in the death of a baby in her uterus, but that would be a side effect of the treatment and not the motivation of the operation. Using a condom with the motivation of protecting yourself from HIV would be ok even if the double effect would be stopping sacred sperm getting into a holy womb!!
On a side issue tho’ I never understood why double effect wasn’t used in the awful case of Sheila Hodgers, the pregnant woman who in 1981 had the misfortune to get cancer and NOT be given treatment for it in that screwed up hospital Our Lady Of Lourdes in Drogheda. She died screaming and the baby died anyway. Here’s a link to a brilliant FO’T article about it but its bloody IT subscription. If you’d like it, mail me and I’ll cut and paste it.
However my number 1 reason for optimism is that when Ratz did make his appearance he was so happy and smiling that I just got a really good vibe from him and I am big into trusting those instincts. For a while I have suspected that I have some psychic ability and recent events have confirmed it for me. I’ll go into that later but for the moment I have a feeling that Ratz is actually ok and perhaps he will use his intellectual ability and dogmatic approach to bash Bush or something.
Anyway, back to the psychic stuff. We’ve all had those deja vu moments or bumping into someone you haven’t seen for years just when you’d been thinking about them but this is really cool. Several nights ago I had a dream about a relative who is a beautician and who waxed my legs about six weeks ago. As that was six weeks ago I had been avoiding looking at my legs as you can imagine that they are sorely in need of a new wax. Anyway the dream was that I was looking at her leg. Just one. Whilst observing her leg I noticed that her’s was hair free and I idly wondered in my dream if she waxed her own legs. However, the rest of the dream consisted of her leg. Very strange….
Two days later my sister told me that this same woman had that same day (i.e. the day of the night I had the dream) fallen off a horse and BROKEN HER LEG!!!! I MUST be psychic.
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04.19.05
Posted in Sunday Times Columns at 4:30 pm by
Back to baby diary. Entering Day 4 of the 10 week growth spurt I finally cracked. I was feeding every 2 hours apart from a 9pm-4am break. I sent for formula and have introduced a bottle at 10am and this morning this does appear to have encouraged him to take a 2 hour nap instead of the series of 45min naps which left me unable to do anything. I did feel a bit defensive, but sure, ITS ONLY ONE BOTTLE.
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Posted in Feminism at 4:22 pm by
Coy Irish media
We’re all familiar with police codes like someone ‘helping them with their enquiries’. But the reluctance of the meeja to call a spade a spade and decode official speak is a bit over the top in the case of Sharon Grace and her two children. When I first saw the report come in of the terrible triple drowning I read the copy in anticipation of getting details of how this accident could have occured. Instead we got ‘police do not regard the deaths as being suspicious’. Added details were given that Sharon got a taxi into Wexford on the night she died and that they were reported missing at 2.25am. Later reports continued to be vague repeating a new line that ‘police were not seeking anyone in connection with the deaths’. This could still have meant that they were caught be a freak wave, fell off a pier, anything. The suicide confirmation only came via comments from neighbours who said they didn’t realise she was so upset over a custody row. Why wouldn’t the meeja just say it was a suspected suicide? And in anticipation of snotty comments from some hostile readers, yes, I am appalled by the deaths. Tenner says John Waters does a column next week noting how differently this case will be reported in comparison to a case a few years ago where a father drove off a pier with his two sons, also in connection with a custody row.
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04.14.05
Posted in Sunday Times Columns at 10:12 pm by
Marian Finucane had Maureen Gaffney on her show this morning with the latest results of a huge childcare study in the US – will get exact name later. Fascinating stuff but here are main points:
1. It’s not a crackpot study – the data is really reliable
2. The most important factor for children is not time in childcare, type of childcare etc, but the quality of their attachment with the mother. If at 15 months they have a secure attachment with their mother they have the best chance of being well adjusted at 9.
3. The quality of the attachment has no link to their time in childcare i.e. there were children with good attachments who were in childcare a lot and you could have children with poor attachments who were being reared at home.
4. Having said that, children under 3 who were in childcare for 30+ hours per week were under more stress than children being reared at home. Behaviourly, (? is that a word) things straightened out when they were older, but it was a bit of a problem. Not a big one, but a little one.
5. Being a good mother means being in sync with the baby….reading them well and undertanding what they want…knowing when to pick them up….being warm with them…..not shouting at them and being forgiving.
6. Better educated better off people make better mothers. Sad but it appears true. Maureen said “to those who have, more is given”.
7. For children who have an insecure attachment with their mother, good childcare can compensate a lot.
8. For children who have an insecure attachment with their mother, bad childcare makes a bad situation a lot worse.
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04.12.05
Posted in Sunday Times Columns at 8:24 pm by
To matters domestic. I’ve always seen Lever Bros as your standard evil empire. Knowing that I am trapped in their marketing web I make a virtue of brand disloyalty and only buy the washing powders on offer at the supermarket. Surf is frequently the cheapest and I have bought it on a number of occasions. However some weeks ago Persil Colour Care was on a “33% extra free” offer so I bought it and for the first time ever noticed poor results. As the smiling ladies tell you in the ads, children get the most appalling stains on their clothes and while I’m not neurotic, the clothes were coming out of the wash almost as bad as when they went in. I had one lone Surf tablet and I soaked a particularly dirty pyjamas in it that had already been washed twice, inc once at 60 with the Persil. Within a couple of hours all the now washed-in stains had washed out! Amazing results. Think I’ll have to stick with Surf from now on.
Meanwhile, Eastenders has improved dramatically (no pun intended) since they dumped several characters and introduced Johnny Allen, his mistress Tina and his daughter Ruby. They’re great! The acting is really excellent and they have some great stories. I nearly gave up on it for a while but it’s great to have a decent bit of miserable drama to look forward to. My only relaxation in the day. (aaah. queue violins). I’ve dumped Coronation St and even Fair City completely. Coronation because it is truly awful and Fair City because I just don’t have the time. Pity, ‘cos it was quite funny.
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04.10.05
Posted in Sunday Times Columns at 10:04 pm by
Our new house is in the corner of a field in which the new born lambs are skipping around – a great source of delight for our toddler. There is a black sheep in the flock who had black twins day before yesterday and this was a cause of great excitement. However Saturday afternoon I noticed one of them had slipped down a bank and was perilously close to a stream dividing two fields. Heroically, I climbed over the gate, inched down the bank and rescued the frail little thing. I then phoned my uncle, manager of livestock for the whole enterprise and reported by great deed. He was pleased but prophesised that the lamb was clearly foolish and would find some other way to kill itself.
Throughout the afternoon I kept on eye on the lamb and was concerned that it wasn’t moving from its spot. Its twin was following the mother around. Over dinner at our local chinese with M. (our first dinner alone since the baby was born!) I regaled him with stories of my childhood and our pet lambs every Spring. Sheep are useless mothers and from every flock a bunch of lambs have to be reared as pets because the mothers abandon them. We always gave the lambs imperial names like Romulus & Remus (twins of course), Caesar, Cleopatra etc. We thought we were great. We fed them from bottles with teats on them. It was all great fun. If a lamb was very sick it would have to be brought into the fire. My granny who passed away a couple of years ago was great for saying the rosary over a lamb in front of the fire and giving it the odd kick to keep it alive. She claimed lambs needed to be kicked to remind them they were alive.
Inspired by the fables, and spurred on by a surprisingly good Australian Chardonnay, we agreed that we’d check on the lamb on the way home and if it was still in the same spot and not doing well we’d bring it inside and mind it. M. was most excited at the prospect. Of course, having opened the gate, driven into the field (in the dark) I could tell immediately our lamb had died. It was in the same spot and on approach I could see its mouth had the frozen look. V. sad because a black lamb is really cute. The mother and surviving twin looked on from about 20ft away. We arrived back to the house and I was starting to get the giggles because M. was devastated by this turn of events and was berating himself for not rescuing the lamb earlier in the day. It had died miserably due to our neglect. Not sure about the giggling reaction but his emotional reaction seemed a bit over the top.
My sister who was babysitting set him straight. Lambs would break your heart. Even if you rescue them and keep them as pets they die anyway. Most of our pets died. Others got mouth sores and were hungry but couldn’t feed because their mouths were too sore and then they’d cry and then we’d cry. Romulus broke his leg and Remus, who was strong just died very quickly of flu or something. If they did live, they were sent out to the field after a while and then you’d have to round them up to send them for slaughter. They’d recognise you and run over, looking to be saved. And you’d have to send them on their way regardless. And we were children. And the lamb granny kicked died anyway.
Even tho’ I still had the giggles I was appalled that I had completely forgotten this aspect of the lambing season. I had maintained the romanticised happy version in my head and wiped out the subsequent miseries, which for my sister were the predominant factor in the tale. Isn’t it weird how flawed memory can be? And isn’t it weird how two siblings can have such completely different memories of the same incidences? I believe Feargal Keane’s brother is complaining bitterly about Feargal’s recollections of their father’s drinking. Just shows you. That was only lambs. What else am I misremembering? And why was I giggling? It was awful.
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04.08.05
Posted in Uncategorized at 10:31 pm by
Check out Tom’s poem on Old Rottenhat. Part of his Freezer Isle series.
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