friendly Sundays

Tags

Dublin, friends, guiness, local, local pub, pints, Sundays

Sundays are the days I often spend on my own, reading, cleaning, watching good/bad TV and more often than not I begin organising the week that lies ahead. But yesterday afternoon I broke from habit and met up with a friend in our local pub.

Since I’m not a big fan of beer a drop of blackcurrant into my Guinness sweetened the deal and I enjoyed the malty taste. We sat and chatted over an early pint and met a few colourful locals.

Some football was on the big screen but most sat and talked, a family with three kids sat in the corner sharing packets of crisps while the parents each nursed a pint. Three hipsters chatted in muted tones, there hair perfectly coiffed their trousers pulled low. Tucked away in a corner a couple of old men in their Sunday best talked about racing their faces wrinkly from past smiles, their hands hugging their pint. At the bar some scaffolders, razor blade bald and full of banter making fun of everyone who dared enter but making more fun of each other.

So while you won’t be finding me down in the pub every Sunday it was great to get out and jump into something new and enjoy a Sunday afternoon with friends. So maybe every now and then I’ll wander down for a pint and a bit of banter and turn my local into a place to discover more about Dublin life.

a pint with a friend

 

a day in Dun Laoghaire

Tags

books, Dublin, Dun Laoghaire, Ireland, Kevin Barry, literary festival, Nell Zink, photography, photos, Sundays

Books, literary readings, a market and sunshine – the perfect combination for a wonderful Sunday.

Yesterday I got on the dart and traveled the short distance down the coast to Dub Laoghaire and the Mountains to the Sea book festival. In the morning I listened to author Nell Zink in conversation with RTE’s Sinéad Gleeson. Zink read from her two books The Wallcreeper and Mislaid, spoke about being a writer before she even knew she was one and how Jonathan Franzen had trouble believing her.

In the late afternoon I was enchanted with Kevin Barry as he read from his wonderfully funny and clever Beatlebone. It was inspiring to hear what he had to say about writing and finding the right voice for the characters and stories he wants to tell.

I spent the hours in between the two events I wandering around Dun Laoghaire and taking a few pictures and enjoying a cappuccino in the sun.

 

 

Sunday surprises

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ADiff, Billy Bob Thornton, Dublin International Film Festival, Films, Glenn Ficarra, John Requa, Kim Baker, Martin Freeman, Savoy, Sundays, Tina Fey, Whiskey Tango Foxtrot

A week ago I was surprised by gift of two tickets to a film in the ADiff (Dublin International Film Festival) this year. It was late in the game and most films I would have liked to see were either booked out or showing at the wrong time- clashing with work and other commitments.

On a whim I just asked what viewing still had availability, and to my surprise the surprise film still had some tickets. (For more than ten years the film festival has hosted a surprise film screening – no one knows what it will be until the reel is rolling and the film credits appear). Liking the idea of a surprise I booked the tickets and invited a friend.

So, yesterday afternoon I joined the long queue outside the Savoy on O’Connell Street and waited to find a seat in Cinema 1. My friend and I made found good seats in the back and made ourselves comfortable. The excitement in the room was palpable, lots of guessing could be heard and since some years have had walk outs – I think I saw a few planning their exit route – just in case.

As the film began we were all surprised with Whiskey Tango Foxtrot, the latest film directed by duo Glenn Ficarra and John Requa. The film is loosely based on journalist Kim Baker’s book The Taliban Shuffle: Strange Days in Afghanistan and Pakistan and tells the story of how an inexperienced white female journalist comes to terms with the madness that is war reporting.

And while the story has many holes (we never really see much journalism going on and partying seems to be the main activity) the film was enjoyable. I’m not a big Tina Fey fan but she did well, even if the erst of the cast steal the show. Billy Bob Thornton as General Hollanek is wonderful and Martin Freeman as freelance photographer Iain MacKelpie gives a good Scottish accent.

Overall my surprise filled Sunday was the perfect way to end a stressed filled week.

 

Sundays – 52 days to relax

Tags

24/7, Poet Joseph Addison, quote, reflect, relax, Sundays, work

We all lead very busy lives, Monday to Friday we spin, twist and turn to try, we run to and fro, we stress and sleep little and rival worker ants and busy bees in our flurry to try and get every thing done.

And when it’s not the job it’s socializing, hobbies, family and housework that keeps our hands occupied and our brains buzzing. The 24 hours of everyday just tick over from one into the next, no pause, no break just a few hours every night we allow our eyes to close and our bodies to shut down.

Before we could surf the net every given hour and our phones lived in our hands or pressed against our ears once a week we had a day off, to reflect, relax and enjoy some undisturbed moments.

When I was a blond haired little girl Sundays was the day the family spent together, no play-dates, no shopping trips, no work … but as time moved by and I grew up shops opened their doors and invited everyone inside to a multicoloured world of commerce and money spending.

As c=jobs changed and become more flexible and less nine to five, people took work home with them and spent Sundays stuck behind a desk. Free-lancers became available twenty-four seven and so did their working hours.

Now I wonder what happened to those 52 days we once had to relax? After all if Sundays have mutated from a day of rest into a day just like the rest, how do we structure a regular day to relax?

So maybe, just maybe, we should just not follow advancement and modern times and learn a lesson from the “good old days” and decide that no one should have our Sundays.

Sunday clears away the rust of the whole week.

Poet Joseph Addison