Hoppipoola !

“We should take a bus
To somewhere else to something new
Thank God we’re alive
And bite off more than we can chew
Do the things that just don’t matter
Laugh while others look in anger
Stumble over four leaf clovers
And say goodbye to lonely banners”

  • Terry Hall/ Toby Lyons

I woke with a fright this morning, realising that our Impossible Boy is 21 of your Earth years old today. Which, by default, makes me a grown up. Or would make me a grown up if we hadn’t agreed, when he was 16, that if it ever came down to it, and there was a life changing decision to be made, that it would probably be for the best if he made the decision for us. We have yet to regret that choice.

( Jake , I am your Fadder !)

Recently he helped me through my college course, as, obviously, he had more experience with the machinations of third level educo-politik. I told him that I was frustrated with some of the course work /guidance/handbook and had vented this frustration by writing about it in my blog and jokingly referred to my course leaders as ‘those bastards in Trinity’. He asked if any of ‘those bastards in Trinity’ read my blog, and I said yes, a few of ‘those bastards in Trinity’ do indeed read my blog. He suggested that it wasn’t a good idea to call ‘those bastards in Trinity’‘those bastards in Trinity’, as ‘those bastards in Trinity’ mightn’t like it and it may have a detrimental effect on your final results. He further suggested that it was wiser to wait until the course was finished and then I could happily refer to ‘those bastards in Trinity’ as ‘those bastards in Trinity’ as often as I wanted. Which it turns out was eight times. Final results arrived on Tuesday.

I miss my colleagues ,and even TBIT, more than I really thought I would, especially my first Group comrades, Seamus, Aoife, Noelle, Anne, and Lynda.

We’ve only received our last results but the college is deep in the throes of getting ready for the new classes and we’re already the ‘remember those guys…what was their name…you know the one from Monaghan that hadn’t got a clue…’

We’re on our own now. It’s up to us to make use of the fantastic chance we’ve been gifted. Except, that this time, we’re not on our own. We have a network of friends and colleagues that know us, know our work, and we know in our hearts , are ready to help at a moment’s notice. I’ve already asked one classmate for help with a project and two others have asked for my help.

How cool is that ?

In other very cool news , our very own Rossmore Park has won this years Community Award in the National RDS Forsetry Awards. That’s a tribute to the Monaghan Park Run, the annual Haunting of Rossmore, Easter Hunts, Rossmore Anglers, Giants, Marc, Friends of Rossmore Park, the local Council, Monaghan Town Team, Blasta,Heritage, Tidy Towns, the local running clubs, Sinead, and all the kids that fill the play ground, run the trails and fill the whole place with life.

It really is something to behold.

Something else to behold, and which we have been  ‘beholden’ over the last two weeks are this beautiful place we live in. We’ve run on beaches, we’ve hopped in seas, we’ve climbed mountains, walked around lakes, explored, got soaked, baked and soaked again…usually withing the space of an hour.

And best of all we got to do it together with Jake, our Impossible Boy.

We gave him a leather bound blank notebook for his birthday, for the magnificent poetry, stories and epic tales he is yet to write.

A story that sums him up perfectly occurred when he was 12 or 13 and someone was giving him a lift somewhere and , for something to say the driver  commented on a runner who was struggling as they passed. “What does she think she’s doing ?” the adult joked.
“Perhaps she’s just trying her best.” Jake replied.

That’s him. Our boy.


Author: paul

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