A kind of a day off

Found myself in the city centre on some work related errands mid week last week. Most of which were to be done on the north side of the city. In need of a quick snack I ducked into the Epicurean Food Hall (abbey st/liffey st).
Whatever happened to the epicurean food hall? I remember wine, bagels, fresh salads, good coffee, great people watching. What I got was a run down mostly closed down space with big screens showing football and a few students and more buffets than a spanish resort sea front. What a fall from grace. Luckily La Corte is still there so I had a panino and ran away. I ventured slightly further down abbey st and ducked into the coffee shop 3FE (in the Twisted Pepper). I've never tasted anything like it before; coffee with actual accents of fruit and dark chocolate. I recommend it for the novelty. I ordered a Macchiato which was delivered to the table and the milk was poured in front of me with a 'just say when'. Pity about the actual site though, grungy and dirty or maybe I'm just not cool enough.
Why are we so hard done by for culinary delights on the central north side?

Audience with John Banville

An Audience with John Banville
Wednesday 20th October / 7.30pm
The Library, Farmleigh

has been reschedueled : it is on tonight, monday 08/11, at 7:30pm in Farmleigh.

Autumn in Clontarf

Having missed out on autumn last year I'm particularly enjoying it this year. Last year I went from the stifling allergy inducing heat of Ha Noi to the heaviest snow fall in a decade in Beijing. So this year the colours seem particularly vivid to me. I'm also throwing myself at autumn's culinary mercy and have been making stews and soups to feed an army. My new slow cooker obsession couldn't have come at a better time.
These were taken yesterday:

At the party

After my hangover from hell a few weekends ago my drinking volume has gone down considerably. Well make that pretty much ceased. It definitely has its advantages: it's kinder on the wallet, the waist line and the 'day after'. Sometimes though when your not drinking and your out and about conversing in pubs and parties you realise that being at the receiving end of a drunken conversation isn't always that much fun for the non drinker. Although its all worth while when you can just step outside, back into your car and drive yourself right to your own front door for free (I'm not including petrol/insurance/tax in this equation).
Anyway was at a party the other night where my roomie went off for a smoke just before we left. This left me sitting by myself for a few moments. Not having a few drinks on board I wasn't encouraged to go chatting to more drunk people just as we were about to leave. So I sat looking out the window for a few minutes taking in the halloween mayhem on the streets. Being one who is prone to writing a few words every now and then I'm not averse to spending time sitting in my own thoughts no matter where I am. And here in lies the crux: what is it that makes other people so uncomfortable about seeing a woman by herself?
A friendly enough guy approached and suggested I come over and join his group. I said oh thank you but we're just leaving now, and then a little exasperated, he said 'don't isolate yourself, just come over.' What a very bizarre thing to say. Isolate.
Maybe its because I was sober and other people weren't. Maybe its because I didn't really know anyone there and I was sober. Maybe I was indeed feeling a bit off kilter. Or maybe, just maybe, I don't mind spending a few minutes by myself while I wait for my friend.
Isolate. How strange to use that word.

The joys of procrastination

Ahh the virtues of procrastination. Great to know there are some after all. Just finished this article and felt it was kind of imperative to share it : (sorry but for some reason my hyper linking is refusing to work so its a copy and paste job....but its worth it!)

http://www.newyorker.com/arts/critics/books/2010/10/11/101011crbo_books_surowiecki?currentPage=1


I decided to get rid of one of my obstacles to writing, the internet. Its devilish ways were too much for my attention span so it got the axe. For those of you who aren't brave enough to go that far you might benefit from this little program :

http://macfreedom.com/

even with it gone though I still find it hard to put bum to chair. Last night I baked a potato that obviously needed constant supervision. I then went onto stew some plums in my fancy new gadget; a slow cooker. A walk was also in order.....all in all i got about about five sentences moved and a few others deleted. But even that eases the guilt. Punishment-reward, punishment-reward. Myself and my house mate have even created a little dance for it. now if that's not productive procrastination I don't know what is.

Reading at 3.0 Fingal Arts Festival

I'm doing a reading at the fingal 3.0 annual writer's festival. I will be reading on the 20th of october in farmleigh house. Tickets are free but you have to apply for them. See the link at the end.

An Audience with John Banville
Wednesday 20th October / 7.30pm
The Library, Farmleigh

Critically acclaimed writer, John Banville, will introduce three new Fingal writers in the intimate library setting of Farmleigh. Pauline O’Hare, Niamh MacAlister and Brian Doherty were selected from an open writing competition initiated by artist Brian Duggan. Duggan is currently undertaking a Public Art Commission for Fingal County Council, developing a film which involves an unconventional journey and uses the Fingal landscape as its backdrop. The artist invited Fingal writers to respond to the theme, ‘3009’, and submit a piece of short fiction. The winners were then finally selected by John Banville, and will be included in Brian’s book, which will accompany his project. We are delighted to highlight the talents of these writers during Writing 3.0 and treat the audience to excerpts from the winning stories. Brian will also be available to discuss the development of his commission to date.


http://www.fingalarts.ie/writing3.0/?page_id=4

The birthday weekend

Is it sad to admit that the birthday bunting and balloons are still attached to the curtain poles?
One wonders what else there is to say about the birthday weekend. It really was that good-I couldn't have wished for more. People flying in from far flung and near flung places, people making and baking, getting presents (!), and of course the chat chat chatter. Its always nice to spend time with fantastic/amazing/inspiring people,
it certainly softens the blow of the whole getting older thing.

What better way to polish off such a perfect weekend than with an impromptu dip in the sea. What? yes.... as I power walked my way to the bull-wall the sun was shining and damn it that sea looked good, it had that turquoise thing going on so f@*k it-why not?! I took refuge in the first women's swimming shelter as I quickly stripped off to my undies-quickly quickly-down the steps into the water before I changed my mind. next thing I know I'm swimming towards to nana's chimneys (poolbeg power station). Well not quite that far-it was bloody freezing, oh no I mean it was 'refreshing'. A little bit out and back again. Don't know if it was swimming as much as crazy doggy paddle like movements to keep the blood running through my veins. Tentatively made my way back to my clothes and wringed myself out. Set off back to the house, hopped into a steaming shower and congratulated myself on a fine start to my thirtiness.