The Summer Exams are in two weeks and I'm dreading them, I'm playing in a feis tomorrow with a piece for which I have absolutely no love left and My bloody 18th still needs sorting out. This is more than enough crap to have me tearing my all my hair out from the strain. Normally, that is. But how could anyone sit inside weeping and feeling sorry for themselves, eating slice after slice of charleville cheddar cheese as I can sometimes be found doing in these times, when the weather has been so brilliant these last few days?
If anyone who is not from Ireland happens to be reading this, and that's being more than a bit optimistic on my part, you probably won't understand how much joy an Irish person feels when the weather is actually good for once. It just makes you want to go outside and take off all your clothes and scream 'I'm alive!'... While I haven't quite got to that stage yet, over the last few days I've at least tried to soak up as much of the sun as I can.
Monday was the best day - I was over at my friend Br's house for her 18th birthday, and it looked so nice outside some of us ended up heading out to Belgrave Square for a picnic. It was one of those lazy summer days that we only hear about over here; lying there on the grass in complete contentment, messing around doing cartwheels (well, I being an almighty sourpuss didn't manage to but some others did) and such. Everything seems to look better when it's sunny; the shapes that the shadows of trees make on the grass, the light glinting off a metal railing, even the people look more attractive. I think I could get used to this living, even if experience has taught me to watch the weather forecast and expect the worst. Still, I can hope...
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