Outrunning the rain

I've lived in Ireland for nearly three years now, and one thing seems suprisingly consistent: Saturday mornings tend to be sunny, and then, at some point in the afternoon, the rain has enough of all that weekend rest and resumes work. If you're from the continent (...and I guess it shows I've been here a while if I call it that...), you may be used to starting your sunny weekends slowly: A slow, late breakfast, finishing that book, maybe a bit of laundry before you head outside? WRONG, I tell you, if you reside on this island, where the weather is even less reliable than you might ever think. If it's sunny, GET OUT. So on this particular weekend, we were smarter than the lurking clouds, decided to move our brunch to the coast, and hopped onto the DART train to Dun Laoghaire. Great food at White Tea (a bit Avoca-ish, but less overpriced), and then a stroll around the harbor in the sunshine (warm enough for ice cream!). The clouds slowly moved in from the North and gave us some pretty rainbows to pass the time on the DART ride home, but we made it to our house a few minutes before they arrived over Ballsbridge. Perfect! (And then, off to bed with something flu-ish. But it can't be for the lack of fresh air!)

 

From autumn, with love

If you were to say: "Hey! You haven't updated in a year!", then I would still be in a position to disagree... for two more days. Maybe autumn makes me chattier. (Maybe I'm trying to talk the leaves back up on the trees.) Last year, I found the first ripe chestnut well before the end of August - this year has been more traditional: The first ones appeared this weekend, but then, after a bright and summery Saturday and still-okay Sunday, autumn decided it was now time to step in. Temperatures have dropped, and so has foliage.
Howth still looked like that on Sunday. One of the best things about Dublin is that when it's sunny, you can take public transportation for 30 minutes and end up somewhere like that. (In fact, I read recently that some Thai beach resorts stole pictures of the Scottish and Irish coast and used it to advertise their own beaches.) (Obviously, public transportation also runs on rainy days. But the view just isn't quite the same.) (It should be sunny much more often.) And then yesterday, Ireland remembered its core strength and brought on the gloom and the rain.

So I guess there was only one reasonable thing to do: Take some Donegal tweed yarn, and work on a sweater. I still find it surprising that there are so few yarn shops in a country with such a high sheep to human ratio. Where does all this wool go? It can't all end up in touristy Aran sweater shops?

Soon I'll hear old winter's song

I suppose there is no arguing with it: Summer, though it may never have started, is already over. 

12°C in the morning, storms that shake even small mews houses, and leaves that stretch the variation of possible shades of green far too far into yellow for it to seem reversible.
I believe the total count of days of 20°+ this year was about eight. And the "+" means that the maximum was something like 23°. For an hour. Damn you, Ireland, last year I defended your meteorological qualities against the skeptics but this year, I've joined their ranks.
Now off to dig out winter clothes... oh wait, no need: I was pretty much wearing the same stuff year round anyway.

Faking the season

Ever since I moved to Dublin, I seem immensely interested in discussing the weather. Not sure if it's cultural (as all English school books would have you believe: This language seems built for weather-related small talk) or just out of despair with the lack of proper seasons, combined with the continued hope that yes, one day, it will be summer. (Actually, that came true: Summer lasted about one day.) So when you see summer end before it even seems to have arrive, what can you do? Yes, exactly: Try the "Summer" setting on your favourite Android camera app and avoid looking at the world without that friendly digital filter. (Yes, I see it too: It makes it look kind of... sunny-autumnal. Still better than rainy-autumnal though...)

Over before it's begun

I'm quite sure that this is the first time I've seen a ripe chestnut before my sister's birthday, which should be at the peak of summer and traditionally involves complaints about the heat and demands for ice cream. Not in Ireland. August 26th and the trees have already begun to drop decidedly autumnal bits and pieces onto Dublin streets. Meh.

Georgian spring

It was spring, glorious and sunny, all week while I had to be inside in a nearly windowless office. Now it's Good Friday and rain is here. Let's hope this is a meteorological manifestation of pure Catholic spirit that will end tomorrow.
I am at work, for I was very German and assumed that something that is not an official holiday will require me to be at work. That is incorrect: It is not an official holiday but we didn't have to work anyway. Riiight. Oh well, so I save this free day for later. Now that spring is over, that seems less of a loss.

West Side Story

Ballsbridge presents a rather posh face to the world - and yet, catching glimpses of back yards, I can never quite help feeling like there might be some drama of West Side Story dimensions happening right behind it all.

Missing owls

I quite enjoy my new home but there is one thing I still miss, and that Dublin hasn't been able to provide: After several months, I still catch myself walking along streets with half an eye cast on walls and signs, trying to spot graffiti owls.
Sadly, those wonderful creatures seem to restrict their habitat to Wroclaw. I miss them.
Walking around Dublin, I found a few nice stencilled things on houses - generally, Dublin in this area is remarkably graffiti-free. As far as ugly tagging goes, that is fine with me, but I do miss the clever owls that adapted to their specific locations.
The only remotely similar thing is this dinosaur that seems to be quietly taking over Dublin 4. If only it varied a little bit or interacted with its surroundings... then I might see some potential to be a tiny consolation in this owl-free environment.

Quick visit to Samuel Beckett

 It is STILL summer in this fine city. Natives claim this isn't really possible, and yet it is still warm, even by continental European standards. (Yes: Weather is a huge issue here, and forever a great source of small talk material.) So after a day in the office, it is a good idea to make some use of it and go for a walk.
This stroll took me along the Liffey to Dublin's newest bridge - looks like a harp, but is named, mysteriously, after Samuel Beckett.
In other news, we started an a cappella group at the office! Amazingly, it has more guys than girls so far (but mostly tenors). Fame is surely right around the corner.

Facing the summer in style

If there's anything that can jinx the continuously nice weather, it's this: After about a decade without proper prescription sunglasses (or, for that matter, any sunglasses, because without prescription lenses, the choice was either dark blurriness or overexposed sharp vision, and I chose the latter), I finally went out and found a new pair.
A brief trip to a cheap optician proved once again that my taste (or shape of face) sadly isn't cheap: On shelves upon shelves of glasses, there was only one type of frames available: Wide, thick and boxy. Nothing else. Nice enough, just not on my face, which does not shift its features to accomodate the latest trend in eyewear, and proved unsuitable for this style.

And so I walked out desperate, and then into a neat little designer optician. And the friendly lady instantly handed me my dream pair. I confirmed that Ray Ban Wayfarers make me look like a large-beaked owl, and that some obscure brands exist that I've never heard of but still demand 600€ a pair, and back to pair number one. They had the right prescription lenses in stock, and so just a day later, here I am, walking out with a pair of Georgio Armani sunglasses, and don't have to squint and risk premature wrinkling or other such dangers, and look stylish in the process.
Yes, since then, there have been clouds for the first time in days. I declare this a partial win.

Summer in the city

Official beginning of summer, and it actually is summer. (The Irish around me insist that I should just assume that this also marks the end of summer, but I still refuse to believe it.)
Happy people, lying in the park after work - good thing that it stays light out until well after eleven!
Happy days.

Twisted donut

Summer has reached Dublin! It is warmer than any of the meteorological warnings that I got before moving here ever seemed to find possible. (Did I just jinx it all by typing this?)

The Irish hardly know what to do with themselves, fashion-wise - they were all as unclothed as acceptable already when temperatures went over 15°C, so now in 25°, there is little left to remove.  (At the same time, continental Europeans slowly consider taking off scarves and leaving the house without jackets.)

In any case - lovely! And no, this is not related to the daily poladroid, only that the new stadium looked pretty in the sunshine. In a slightly extraterrestrial way. Or, on an empty stomach, like a twisted steel donut.

Fertile feathered friends

Even after five months (has it been this long already?), I am still quite delighted with the birds that live on and around the Grand Canal and make the way to and from work a bit more interesting.

I'm also very impressed with their... let's call it reproductive productivity? While I can't identify individual birds (and so don't know if it's just a few very fertile parents or if the bird populations takes turns in breeding), there seems to be new fluffy ducks/swans/moorhens/random black duck-like animals at a surprising rate. Sadly, I seem quite unlucky when it comes to catching my favourites, the moorhens, in their fluffiest, cutest stage - I only found a few when they were already in their most reckless teenage phase.

Right now, it's the young swans that attract most attention (for being relatively smallest still) - the lady in the picture had even brought food. I only worry about the state of the canal. When they finished a huge dredging project a few weeks ago, it had pretty emerald waters for a little while. Suddenly, there seems to be a yucky permanent influx of soapy waters that do not look appetizing (nor healthy for birds) but do add interest to poladroidery...

The concept of summer

Outside my window, it is bright and sunny and I discovered during a brief trip to Tesco's that it is absolutely and amazingly lovely outside. Only that I am in bed with some sort of fluish migraine. And if I wasn't in bed, I'd be in the office.
So summer is quite wasted on me, but I do appreciate the concept. It's a bit hard to find any truly summery motif inside my apartment for my daily virtual polaroid so I'll turn to my window sill and document one of the coolest things about living in Dublin: You can get on public transportation and in 30 minutes, it takes you right to the beach, where you can find nice seashells and stare at the horizon and think of New York. Let's hope that there will be a weekend soon that allows me to take advantage of that! For now, looking at maritime souvenirs will have to do.

Back to the teens

 Yay: Tegan & Sara played in Dublin and it was pretty awesome, except that most of the audience was female and young and extremely into it, so that the average pitch of the screaming was a little painful. Sort of like human vuvuzelas, which made up for missing the World Cup match, maybe?
It was, however, a very nicely colourful crowd - I suppose that most of the stylish lesbian teenager population of Dublin was present - and even though I neither had neon pink hair nor star tattoos nor the average age, we still got asked to pose with a poster advertising for a Pride Week event. We were told that the pictures could be found on Facebook today, but not where exactly they might end up. I was somewhat surprised (creeped out?), however, when I realised that I was able to track down the woman who took the pictures within five minutes on Facebook, even though I didn't know her name. So much for being anonymous on the net...

Oh wait, concert entries should mention music, right? Hm. I did plan on buying their CD but the queue for merchandise was about a mile long. Now I ordered it on Amazon, and it was even on sale. I hope they ship quickly. (I also really wish there was an Irish Amazon shop!)

Below is a live shot from the concert. The cell phone picture quality isn't spectacular, so let's declare this an artsy attempt at capturing the atmosphere. Or maybe just pretty red and blue amorphous shapes, however you prefer.

And so it begins

Still a day to go until Germany actually plays but it is never too early to conjure up the proper spirit (well, this isn't actually at my place but I still thought it made the dull England - USA match more bearable).

Mathematical marine models in crochet

I went to see the Hyperbolic Crochet Coral Reef at the Science Gallery. Weird yet awesome, gigantic crochet structure that a) is huge and b) somehow mysteriously proves that crochet is a way to make a mathematical model of hyperbolic space that was previously believed to be impossible to make into a model. It's also c) pleasantly colourful. Nice.

Guinness mugs are good for you

It may not be appropriate to have a pint at the office before Friday evening (and it may also not be the most appetising drink in the morning) but my standard of office living has been greatly enhanced by purchasing a giant mug that, amusingly, imitates the colour scheme of a real pint quite convincingly. Also, it gives me enough tea to get me through the first hour in the morning. Also, I just really like that toucan.

Home sweet mess

Moving on! I can't say that my new home looks as inviting as the old one yet, but I am still very excited to be here. New horizons! Challenges! Opportunities! Other such pleasant-sounding words!

For the moment, I'm excited to be able to communicate with people around me (and have them understand), see moorhen paddle peacefully along canals rather than avoid the things pigeons dropped from above, and be surrounded by people holding hot coffee on their way to work in the mornings, rather than by people holding on to vodka bottles on their way to their favorite spot to consume said bottle's contents.

Yay!

Dublin: Palm Trees in the Snow

The main thing being discussed here, unsurprisingly, is the recession, what with Dell leaving Ireland and tens of thousands of jobs lost. More surprising is the speed with which small tourist traps adjust to it. I like their attitude. And the visual punk music reference.


For a few days, however, the recession was boring compared to the really big news: The Snow Chaos. For proper chaos, including a complete airport shutdown, one inch is plenty. And when the entire snow of a whole lawn combined is enough to make a knee-high snowman, taxi drivers will still find enough fun facts about snow to fill the long ride from the airport to the center. Our driver was around 60, but she seemed to share her grandchildren's excitement for this fascinating weather phenomenon. Amazingly, snow that melts a little and freezes over makes a crackling sound, and snow that melts more and freezes then makes... well, ice. "You have to be extra careful, dear, it is like... like... like walking on glass!!" She was excited that her grandchildren could finally do all the things they knew only from TV, and all around Dublin, children were hunting for remaining snowballable bits of snow.

(Let's digress. Small foray into Polish backyard discoveries: If you have a backyard the size of a medium suburb and everyone in the large multi-story houses around it owns a dog, winter weather and snow that is closer to 10 than 1 inch means that all resulting feces will find a nice, cozy bed, where they will be nicely preserved by the frost, and covered by the next snowfall to give an impression of complete cleanliness.
Until the snow melts. And leaves a whole month's combined digested dog food on the ground.)

Back to Dublin! The snow made way for glorious sunshine, and now for something halfway between rain and slush that still provide the frequent meteorological variations that every visitor to Ireland expects (and can do without, I would have been fine with lasting sunshine).