My hometown on the Cutting Edge!

My hometown of Edmonds became the first environmentally friendly town in the State of Washington when the City Council voted this past week to ban plastic bags. And I thought it was the teenagers who allegedly gave the City Council headaches--or is that the other way around?--allegedly... Now, if they could just do something about the Old Bags...Sorry Mom.

Welcome Home!

Oh New York, we've missed you so. Disembarkation went smoothly and we were off the 'Mary into the Brooklyn Cruise Terminal, clearing Immigration and Customs by 10:00 a.m. Taxi line was a touch chaotic for a "cruise terminal" but we managed to snag a yellow taxi van and we were on our way to the Ravel Hotel in Long Island City--or so we thought. The cab driver's route leaving the terminal was slightly unique but ask a New Yorker for a "perfect route" and you will get a thousand different responses. Under the Taxi Rider Bill of Rights, a driver is requested to follow the passenger's preferred route but most of the time it's a moot point as the New York cab drivers are pretty good (except in the winter when most of them-- who happen to be from countries filled with sand--try to navigate New York's icy streets creating a fair amount of accidents and comedy.) After our jaunt through downtown Brooklyn, our driver begins to head toward the BQE-aka the Brooklyn-Queens Expressway which is anything but--however, a fairly direct route to our hotel. But, instead of getting on the BQE, our driver gets on the Brooklyn Bridge heading into Manhattan. CW and I look at each other and I confirm with our driver he knows the location of our hotel, thinking maybe, just maybe, he misheard me. Nope--he had heard me quite well and then proceeds to tell us that all the cab drivers, when going to Queens, go into Manhattan and then out of Manhattan. The gig is now up and I tell our driver just because we got off the Queen Mary 2 he shouldn't have assumed we were hicks from Edmonds I mean Cork. But he keeps up the routine and heads north up First Avenue in Manhattan--notoriously slow! Well, thanks to Mayor Mike, it's very easy to make complaints about anything in New York City these days--just dial 311--as some of our bar neighbors do. So, I dial 311, I am connected to the Taxi and Limousine Commission, and by the time we are pulling into our hotel, I have an official complaint filed and a future hearing scheduled regarding the driver's actions. Well, about fifteen minutes after driving away, the taxi driver returns and motions me outside. He begs for mercy and I say no go. I think I wasn't giving clemency mostly because my two Dreadful Creatures were made to suffer an extra long trip in a hot taxi. Only in New York, Kids, only in New York...

5:33 a.m. New York City, July 30th, 2009

from "Here is New York" (1948)
by E. B. White
"There are roughly three New Yorks. There is, first, the New York of the man or woman who was born there, who takes the city for granted and accepts its size, its turbulence as natural and inevitable. Second, there is the New York of the commuter=-the city that is devoured by locusts each day and spat out each night. Third, there is New York of the person who was born somewhere else and came to New York in quest of something. Of these trembling cities the greatest is the last-the city of final destination, the city that is a goal. It is this third city that accounts for New York's high strung disposition, its poetical deportment, its dedication to the arts, and its incomparable achievements. Commuters give the city its tidal restlessness, natives give it solidity and continuity, but the settlers give it passion. And whether it is a farmer arriving from a small town in Mississippi to escape the indignity of being observed by her neighbors, or a boy arriving from the Corn Belt with manuscript in his suitcase and a pain in his heart, it makes no difference:each embraces New York with the intense excitement of first love, each absorbs New York with the fresh yes of an adventurer, each generates heat and light to dwarf the Consolidated Edison Company...

The city, for the first time in its long history, is destructible. A single flight of planes no bigger than a wedge of geese can quickly end this island of fantasy, burn the towers, crumble the bridges, turn the underground passages into lethal chambers, cremate the millions. The imitation of mortality is part of New York now; in the sounds of jets overhead, in the black headlines of the latest editions.

All dwellers in cities must live with the stubborn fact of annihilation; in New York the fact is somewhat more concentrated because of the concentration of the city itself, and because, of all targets, New York has a certain clear priority. In the mind of whatever perverted dreamer might loose the lightning, New York must hold a steady, irresistible charm".

The next adventure begins...

QM2, Atlantic Ocean, Sunday, Juy 26th, 2009 10:14 am.

"Travel is at its most rewarding when it ceases to be about your reaching a destination and becomes indistinguishable from living your life"

Paul Theroux, 'Ghost Train to the Eastern Star'

Churning through rough seas and gale winds in the Atlantic on the 'Mary. We have suspended reality for a few days as we transition from a 'soft' year in Cork to one in the States that could involve one or two new businesses and the possibility of moving a third. We shall enjoy our voyage and prepare ourselves for the hard slap in the face known as New York City in a few days.

9:42 p.m. July 22 2009 Cork City Ireland

"The hardest thing to convey is how lovely it all is and how the loveliness seems all you need. The ghosts that haunted you in New York or Pittsburgh will haunt you anywhere you go, because they're your ghosts and the house they haunt is you. But they become disconcerted , shaken, confused for half a minute, and that moment on a December day at four o'clock when you're walking from the bus stop to the rue Saint-Dominique and the lights are twinkling across the river--only twinkling in the bateaux mouches, luring the tourists, but still...you feel as if you've escaped your ghosts if only because, being you, they're transfixed looking at the lights in the trees on the other bank, too, which they haven't seen before, either.
It's true that you can't run awy from yourself. But we were right: You can run away."

"Paris to the Moon", Adam Gopnik

Out of here...

7 boxes shipped and some suitcases to be checked through--that's our life--though not the important one!

Done!

Apartment was a great! We would live there again in a minute!

Peanuts and Fantas (and a Pint)

Wrapping things up...

One of ODC and my favorite Cork activities was to take the double-decker tour bus around Cork City, get off at the old Cork Jail, take the tour, and then walk to the local pub for peanuts and fantas (and maybe an occasional pint). The other day we took her Irish cousins, life-long Cork City residents...

Inspiring art work...

but for the tragic subtext of almost 4000 people killed between 1966 and 2005 during the Northern Irish Troubles--and the killings continue. A joint Catholic-Protestant foundation is now replacing some of the more inflammatory murals with artwork offering a bit more hope (while preserving the historic originals in photographs.)

What's in a name?

There is a reason why one side in the "Troubles" is called Loyalists.

It's raining...

not cats and dogs but bricks and bottles. All the houses backing up to the "peace walls" in Belfast have the same cage over the back garden offering some protection when the "missiles" manage to make it over.

One final Getaway in "Ireland"

I have to say, they are quite helpful with the directions should you lose your way wandering around Belfast. Although some rioting was taking place in the evenings following the Orange Order's big day, a person wouldn't have been aware of any problems staying close to city center. Belfast has come along away from not so long ago though the huge gates in the "Peace Walls" separating the Protestant and Catholic neighborhoods still close evenings and weekends. I had a pleasant two day stay in Belfast but every city not Amsterdam is paling in comparison after our recent visit--yes, even Paris. Big weekend ahead: another CW family event: Mother's 80th birthday party--once again I will be happy to be on the sideline supporting CW and gloating again that my family is sooooo perfect. Okay, I might sneak away just for a minute--it's the start of the Tri Nations Rugby Champioships--Australia vs. New Zealand--CW's birth country--I mean really it's my duty. "Family, I'll be right back. Save me a piece of cake!"

Our bags are packed, we're ready to go...

If only we knew where. What seemed like an obvious choice only weeks ago as to where we would "hang our hats" this coming school year has become a touch more complicated with some recent business developments. So much so we are delaying shipping the seven boxes that we call our lives. (We came with ten--probably pilferage by CW's family at dinner parties). If we let our hearts decide, no doubt we would head immediately to Kathmandu or Paris. But, cooler heads have prevailed, it's time to "do a little business as it were", and as Ray Davies put it, "Captain America calling". Two cities on two different coasts and one distant dark horse. We have hedged our bets with enrollments in various schools, bi-coastal apartment searches, etc..., and we are hoping that the obvious choice presents itself to us--most likely the day after we ship our stuff! We are also considering a split year (Sept.-Dec) on one coast and (Jan.-June) on another--Oh, I can hear my Dreadful Creatures now on Dr. Phil. Well, off to consult the Magic Eight Ball!

TOP TEN GOOD THINGS ABOUT OUR YEAR IN IRELAND:
1. My In-laws (Graciousness that defies description)
2. Weather (Irish people say we hit an unusual year; I think they just like something to complain about)
3. Drinking Culture (Stopping at your local for a pint is customary and considered good form)
4. Cork English Food Market (Better than Seattle's Pike Place and New York's Union Square Farmer's Market)
5. Furnished Apartments (If only we could get those crayon marks off the settee...)
6. Cork Airport (So overbuilt during the Celtic Tiger Years that it is laughable but so easy and convenient)
7. Irish Bureaucracy (77000 yes thousand Irish Civil Servants added in the last ten years and they want to preserve their jobs err help you.
8. Access to Europe: Quick, Easy, Cheap
9. Irish Radio (None of that "play to the demographic b.s., actually good music and thought provoking chat)\
10.Rural Pubs (Patrons standing at the end of the evening for the National Anthem warms the heart almost as well as a pint of Guinness or Murphys or Beamish)

All right it hasn't all been rosey (but the positive far outweighs the negative)--
TOP TEN DISAPPOINTING THINGS ABOUT OUR YEAR IN IRELAND:
1. Expensive (Paris a bargain compared? Damn straight!)
2. Drivers (Aggressive and not good; still think they are on country lanes)
3. Bar Aesthetics (The one Cork Publican with any sense of style has the market sewn up with his several cool establishments)
4. Lack of variety in Food and Drink Options (French Bistro anyone?)
5. Barriers to opening a bar (Strong Publican lobby keeps the License Fees sky high but they have been falling)
6. Parochial Thinking (I guess no surprise here given the derivative of the word)
7. Law Enforcement (It's not the Garda, it's the politicians that have given them no power to go after RICO Investigations and Public Corruption--oh, I guess there isn't any...)
8. Politicians (Father, then son, then his son, then his son--in-breeding at its finest)
9. Gurriers (Cork Hooligan Punks who are more obnoxious than threatening with their bad haircuts and blond highlights)
10. Newspapers (Even though they thoughtfully published pictures of both my Dreadful Creatures, nothing like the Gray Old Lady)

Sweet Dreams...

Home to Cork from Holland on late night flight from Schiphol (best airport in Europe) and I feel like they look--first extended "non-work" trip without Dreadful Creatures was heavenly but I did miss the ugly runts a bit. Sixteen Days left in Ireland and not really counting. It's been a fantastic year highlighted by all the time the creatures have spent with their Irish Grandparents who will have both turned eighty this year. Packing this week, last visit to Dado in Kilkenny next week (I may slip off to Belfast a couple of those days), and our final week celebrating CW's moms 80th with all of the family. We leave Cork July 23 to Southhampton and then onto the Boat on the 24th! God willing, arrive our beloved Brooklyn July 30th. Goodnight and Good luck!

Hey, where's the phone?

No, that I can find...

Is CW seeing Rick Steves behind my back?

Obviously she went to that special packing course offered by the aforementioned pot-smoking Travel Guru from Edmonds. A couple of bags, a couple of bikes, great weather, raw herring with onions, etc, etc, etc..--a memorable trip around Amsterdam, Volendam and Marken!

Dutch Pop...

Now that's what I call a vending machine. As our days in Ireland dwindle to single digits, my wonderful in-laws are putting on a major charm offensive. Shortly after arriving home from our restful week in the country- and sea-sides, our children were taken from us by my sister-in-law Mary and her partner Kevin, and myself and CW were forced on a plane for a three day/two night trip to Amsterdam sans Dreadful Creatures.

Time for an upgrade...

After a number of noisy nights (I am not complaining) spent in rooms over pubs on our Irish tour, it was time for an upgrade. Our last night before heading home was in the Killarney Malton Hotel. The jumpy thing happened to be in their front yard and Older Dreadful Creature had a ball!

The Plassy has crashee..

In 1960 the freighter Plassy wrecked on Inisheer. Hopefully the viewing by Older Dreadful Creature will help her appreciate the QM2 a touch more...

And so does Daddy...

Watch it with the hook matey!

Yo ho ho and a bottle...

Younger Dreadful creature plays with pirates on the beach...

Spa Day for a six-year old...

Older Dreadful Creature enjoys a restorative seaweed bath on the beach in Ballybunion, County Kerry.

Ride 'Em Pony...

The two Dreadful Creatures tour the Island in a pony trap.

Rough seas and a visit to the Irish-speaking Aran Islands...

The previous day (one of the hottest of the year), we spent in the Aillwee Caves, 600 meters into the the Burren moutains. This day (rainy and windy) was spent on a ferry to the Island of Inisheer. All a bit green but no bags required!

A home in the country....

A few restful days at a beautiful cottage...

No more pencils...

No more books, No more teachers dirty looks! School is out for the summer! Well, if the photo I snapped on Kate's first day of school this past September says, "Phew, those nuns were a bit rough", today's photo probably says, "Yeah, Sister, I got your lot figured out--I read the Ryan report!" Today is a wrap on St. Maries of the Isle, a school we are going to miss much more than we would have imagined last September. Just lovely teachers and staff, more cultural diversity than the 7 train to Queens, and an Administration that says nary a word about Kate's "travel habits" as she missed a fair amount of days this year learning life lessons on the road with her vagabond parents. Off to celebrate in County Clare to a lovely cottage that our Kansas City cousins have graciously given us for the week!

No Italian Required!

The Children's Disco started at 8:30 p.m.--followed by huge zucchero filatos (Cotton Candy) which guaranteed no sleep for the DCs!

Breakfast of Champions...

He keeps that up and he's going to look more like Papa than he wants to...

Rome, Italy Midnight, Friday June 5, 2009

A week in Italy started in Cork last Friday with a ten minute taxi ride to airport, three hour flight to Rome, thirty minutes to city, steps to the hostel, twenty minutes with some room key issues, and then on the streets of Rome by 10:30 p.m. for pizza and gelato with the Dreadful Creatures. While "popping" over to the Continent for these short excursions is great, always a touch longer in reality than theory. We almost sent the DCs to the streets by themselves when we realized the cooler (and much younger) guests at the Fawlty Towers Hostel were having a rooftop cocktail party, but we relented and confessed we were in fact parents of two young children.
Caught the morning train to Venice and a slight travel odyssey began. A 4 1/2 hour train journey became 6 1/2 hours with track electrical problems, arrival in Venice was a mass of tourists and poorly labeled water taxis (Don't these people speak English?). After several false starts, we arrive at Punta Sabboni, a short vaporetto ride away from Venice. Boarded the local bus and confidently using our Rick Steves bad Italian asked the driver to drop us off at our holiday camp, Ca' Savio. About twenty minutes into the journey we begin to get an uneasy feeling and sure enough we passed the camp about five minutes after the bus journey started. Off the bus, darkness is falling, the suitcase rollers are broken, the DCs have lost the plot, and numerous promises to the ODC about what we will buy her if she just keeps walking (Turns out a 42 Euro stuffed Cheetah at Termini Station in Rome--ouch!). 60 minutes later we arrive and are kindly given a golf cart ride to our bungalow on a sprawling campground/resort complex. Lodging is great but Italians do not provide sheets (nor toilet paper). No worries, Italians do have incredible campground cafes and by midnight we are eating pizza and gelato with the DCs in a repeat of our previous night in Rome--and a few bottles of 2 Euro wine as well. The next four days involve croissants, espressos, wine, pools, water slides, children's late night discos, pizza, pizza etc.. (oh, did I mention pizza) --the Italians do know how to camp--my memories of childhood camping at Lake Wenatchee see like distant bad memories. The "adults" plans to take turns visiting Venice soon evaporate into a lazy Italian camping week. On to Milan for two days for a restaurant show (basically ham and cheese) but great city and subway system. Then the night train from Milan to Rome--morning delivery of 4 croissants, 4 espressos, and 4 Italian newspapers by a grumpy Woody Allen look-a-like conductor--they start the caffeine habit early here. A day of sights in Rome and then home last night--ice cream and pizza at midnight again--this time in Cork.
Well, I should say three of us are home. We left CW at the Rome Airport last night--she flew on to Barcelona to meet her sisters and mom for an 80th birthday cruise on the Med. She's gone for ten days and I am babysitting her kids--so wrong, so very wrong...

And yet more rugby...

We are very much aware that our easy access to Europe will soon be denied with our pending move to New York. In that spirit, I popped over to London for the day a couple of Saturdays ago to watch the England rugby team play the Barbarians at Twickenham. Out the door at ten a.m. and back by midnight.

Ronaldo? Messi?

Nor did I have a clue who these two were until a few days ago when I learned that my alternative to watching the Champions League Final tonight between Manchester United and Barcelona was to attend a second family reunion dinner with CW, her mother, her father and two sisters. Since then, I have been attempting to convince CW that I have always been a closet football (soccer to you Americans) fan. CW is quite skeptical but when I just happened to mention in conversation her brother's team was relegated (Newcastle) she started to believe. Whereas my love of rugby both playing and watching is well-documented. So much so we spent Saturday evening in a Cork bar with our friends visiting from Holland watching Leinster (Irish) beat Leicester (English) in the Heineken (Dutch) Cup Final. And whether fan or not, tonight's game is bigger than the Super Bowl--at least for these European types--so it's an adventure to be here watching this game. Well, must be going. Have to read "Idiots Guide to Soccer" I mean football. Dreadful Creatures? Don't worry--they will be safe with internet sitter tonight!

Casual Fridays (i.e. track suit)

ODC attempts to break out of St. Maries of the Isle for quick run to "Forever 21"

Another successful St. Patrick's Day...

As our friend Paul Sanchez (www.paulsanchez.com) sings, "What's an Irish boy from a good family doing in the gutter?"

Feeding Time...

Visiting hours at YDC's school!

Suffer the Children...

The Irish Child Abuse Commission's report came out today (www.irishtimes.com) and as expected the findings of "savage and institutional abuse at the hands of religious orders" have sickened and saddened this nation of Catholics. On the brighter side, these "secret" photos from the Dreadful Creatures respective schools appear to show things have lightened up somewhat:
1) That's YDC getting a few lashes from the Headmaster for sitting in a square position during "Circle Time"
2) That's ODC in Overnight Detention for wearing her i-pod in class.

I read the news today oh boy....

and saw our Older Dreadful Creature in the Irish Independent newspaper commemorating the Irish famine at her school, St. Maries of the Isle--that's her in the middle--doesn't look underfed to me! (n.b. Edmonds: Claire and Isabelle aren't the only kids with a stage mom shamelessly promoting her brats to the media!)

Twenty-twenty-twenty fours hour to go, I wanna be....

in Dublin. This is getting scarey--My sister-in-law and partner (parents of two daughters ages 9 and 11 here in Cork) insisted CW and myself go to Dublin for the night wtihout the Dreadful Creatures--our very very first "complete" night away from the Younger Dreadful Creature YDC (I mean we have stayed out until 4 am but that's in town). So CW and I hopped a train to Dublin (3 hour ride north) and checked into the Trinity Capital Hotel near of course Trinity College (picked up application for ODC--cheaper than Harvard with all that Irish socialism.) A few arrival drinks in the hotel bar, a decent dinner at Balzac, and then off to a Dermot Bolger play about the notorious Dublin slum of Ballymun-- "The Mun"! Where was the play performed? In Ballymun in what appears to be a experiment involving poverty, crime and the arts. As an added treat, our dear friend Mick Judd was one of the actors in the play (Irish fellow who returned to Dublin in 2001 after ten plus years in New York). The play was a great social history of Ballymun and afterward we had a drink with cast and director--CW was an actor in Ireland and NYC for many years so she was in her element--and I of course acted up and made particularly insightful critiques about the performance that I am sure were well received by the cast members. Mick dropped us off at hotel and I drug CW to Kehoe's--a traditional Dublin pub that had fantastic Guinness and happened to stay open an hour past the usual 11:30 pm official pub closing time--great last night, not so great this morning! Walked around Dublin, met Mick for lunch, quick pint at the International Bar, and back on train to Cork, home by 7 pm. Picked up creatures! Not bad for 24 hours plus--eat your heart out Jack Bauer! That's the hotel's Do Not Disturb Sign which I "borrowed".

Sunset in County Kilkenny

I am pure city but rural Ireland is where it's at--both character and characters!

Steppin Out

Yes, that's Dado (Irish for Grandfather and my father-in-law) in his ball cap (no one in Ireland appears to wear traditional caps anymore except our son whose caps we have to buy in the States because they don't sell them here) on the last day of his 80th Birthday Party. It was somewhat like what I imagine an Irish wake to be like--except Dado was still very much alive--Myself, CW, and the Dreadful Creatures arrived in Knocktopher, County Kilkenny after a two hour drive from Cork City. The rain was pouring, the wind was howling, and CW and her brother began to put up our tent--Dado's house is quite small (and CW's sister had pretty much taken the one guest room==can't wait until that will is adjudicated) I did the right thing and retired to the local pub--I like hotels and I like camping--I don't like the in-between white-trash backyard version in my father-in-law's backyard. I proceed to tell my local Publican, Eamom, my circumstances and he happens to mention gale force wind forecasts and an apartment above the pub that he doesn't rent, but..if I'm (we're???) stuck, feel free to ask. Oh, I ask, and then I ask the rate--his answer, "Well. I wouldn't be robbing yeh"--I figure that's about 50-100 Euro a night. I call CW with the news and I get lucky--at this point the wind has bent the tent stakes and she's ready to move a few miles up the road. The next few days involve alot of party prep (Was it so wrong to ask if the estranged sister was splitting the costs with us--of course now it seems like a bad idea but...) Most importantly, at the end of every night, I get to put my kids to bed and wander downstairs with CW to the pub for a nightcap(s)--and, the band plays the Irish national anthem at the end of the night for which everyone is required to stand. (Old School). Dados 80th birthday party went on until 7 am the next morning. I begged out with the two dreadful creatures fairly early and CW joined us a few hours later. God Bless Dado--he had the CW's mother show up as a surprise (Dado hadn't spoken to his ex in 15 years) as well as an estranged daughter with her family (She and Dado hadn't spoken in ten years) Lots of tears, hugs, and all that family s#4%! And I got to watch from afar. The photo is of Dado, his ex, his kids and grandkids! The three outlaws (including myself) are off in the distance happily drinking and murmuring luckily our families aren't so f'd up!

"Today is my Birthday...

Gonna have a good time!" The Older Dreadful Creature turned older today--all of 6 and we had the non-traditional Irish Birthday Party--sunshine all around. Current Wife's family provided the presents, the cake, the food and drink (the traditional Irish part). Great time all around. Cake by Christina Favier, candles by Kate!

"I ain't missing you at all!"

I have made it back to Ireland and my son was overjoyed to see me as you can see! My daughter-- she's at her cousins' house. Off to her birthday party so kindly hosted by Louise's family. Great to be loved! Note Irish tan on Younger Dreadful Creature!

What's wrong with this picture?

Well, that's the British Airlines check-in counter less than two hours before my scheduled flight on Thursday--this flight is very empty or as I came to find out, had already left. Two hours later of "nice" conversation with British Airlines, I am heading back to Seattle with a British Air-financed night/day of the White Horse Tavern, the Ace Hotel, and Matt's on the Market. They have re-booked me the following day and I will still make the ODC's birthday party!

"I'm Pregnant!"

No, the other two words that a father never wants to hear from his daughter, "American Girl". On my way out of Edmonds the other day, Teri of Teri's Toy Box generously provided with me this doll so I will arrive home a hero in Ireland for my soon-to-be six-year-old's birthday party on Sunday (May 3rd). I have however scouted out the flagship American Girl store in Manhattan with our impending move back to New York--49th and 5th--to avoid any misunderstandings and a chance spotting by the six-year-old, we'll take 48th Street thank you very much!

'Sitting in this airplane station...

ticket for my destination. Homeward bound. Not. Oh, the joy of changing tickets and boarding that flight to Shannon or Dublin and calling it a day. But Seattle beckons where a few more meetings await. My travel is approaching the level of my days with the "Government" and they start playing the theme from Cheers when I walk into the JFK Terminal 5 Bar. Oh well, all on behalf of the family. While I have nothing on paper yet, I am getting closer and closer to sealing at least one of these potential bar deals--please hurry, my liver is getting impatient for some rest!

Shady Park, Long Island City, New York 4:42 p.m. April 27

Though we are still talking through the various options, the neighborhood of L.I.C. remains our most likely destination upon our return to New York in August. Although we no longer own a bar in the neighborhood, it's a manageable walk to Greenpoint, the train (subway) is 4 minutes to Grand Central Station (and the rest of Manhattan), and it has several parks like this one where you can basically leave your kid by yelling, "Hey, I'm leaving my kid". L.I.C. also has the preschool, Little Ones, that Older Dreadful Creature (ODC) attended--that makes YDC a legacy so in spite of his deficiencies, they have to take him! It's a neighborhood where we have no chance of being anonymous which is one of our few trepidations about returning.

Central Park New York April 24th 1:57 p.m

"Come, my Friends, 'Tis not too late to seek a newer world. Push off, and sitting well in order smite the sounding furrows; for my purpose holds to sail beyond the sunset, and the baths of the western stars until I die. It may be the gulfs will wash us down: It may be we shall touch the Happy Isles."
Tennyson
My dear friend, New York City resident and world traveler, Bill Wormington, reached a final resting place this weekend when we spread his ashes among the cherry trees in Central Park.

Day 'Trippin

1. That's the Dreadful Creatures enjoying 100 Euro Room Service and the million dollar view (of Cartoon Network).
2 The big white building in the distance is our seaside hotel, the Cliff House, in Ardmore, County Waterford
Kate is on her second week of school holiday, I leave for the 'States tomorrow, so yesterday we decided to head to the beach for the "day" for a change in scenery. Nine years ago CW and I had splendid overnight in the seaside town of Ardmore in County Waterford. We were on our way from CW's father's to CW's mother's and I decided I should have some down time. The tiny town of Ardmore (pop. 415) met my requirements: local PUB, bistro with non-Irish undercooked food, beach, cheap B and B and the best chips I have had to date: served piping hot, in a plain brown bag with lots of salt, steps from the beach. We thought (9 years later): our kids will like this! The drive from Cork City: 52 minutes--perfect! Found a beach with a playground, bought a picnic lunch at local shop, did a "scare-rafying" windy cliff walk, and then decided too far to drive back to Cork, must stay the night. Checked out all cheap accommodation and found they were still closed for the season. Then checked out only open hotel in Ardmore: the 5 star Cliff House. CW and I decided we would stay if we came within 5 Euros of guessing the price--we both came in at 170 Euros per night. I went in (left CW and Dreadful Creatures in car) and inquired. Pleasant plump (PP) girl quoted me a rate of 170 Euros (spot on) and then I f***ed up and mentioned we had children in tow. She then said an extra rollaway bed would be an additional 70 Euro (which by no rationale put this place out of our price range). Asked if we could forego extra bed and save 70 Euros, PP said she would have to check. Went back to car, told CW story, and she went in. Unbeknownst to me, she dealt with Skinny Minny Mean Girl (SMMG) who said extra bed was mandatory (as well as 70 Euro charge) and then told CW that "did she mind, she had guests to check in". CW came back out, gave me details, and we decided that 52 minute drive back to Cork was a bit too much for us to handle. I went back in to hotel, asked SMMG if they had any rooms, she said, "Two adults?", I said "Yes", and she said, "Lovely, 170 Euros". At that moment, PP came up and said, "Oh, you will be needing the extra bed", SMMG said, "No just two adults". I looked at PP, She looked at me, didn't say anything, and I guiltily took my "unofficial" discount. To celebrate our good fortune, I took the family to the local pub and we celebrated with two pints and two Fantas. Back to 5 Star Cliff House, I went in, got key, and CW and children went up via side stairs. Usual hotel arrival ritual: CW bathes Dreadful Creatures, I retire to bar to source out scene--pretty well-groomed crowd (Is that Bono and his son?). Two 6 Euro pints of Carlsberg, back to room, and order room service. I decide that we should do a family movie and order "Role Models" on Pay-per-View. Uh, not so appropriate, DCs fall asleep, and CW and I head to bar (We didn't leave DCs unattended--left my cell phone on in room and took CW's phone to bar-if Cartoon Network was replaced by screams over phone, time to ask for check.) Had a lovely drink, back to sleeping creatures, and home today. Have decided to buy cottage in Ardmore once we quit our 5 Star Hotel habit and have discovered Hotel did not charge us for our 100 Euro Dinner--Strangely enough, we are going to call and report their mistake. Go figure! Oh, that would be the door-hey, it's my last night in town--of course we have a babysitter!