Welcome baby Eoin

My 2nd nephew arrived yesterday at about 11am Irish time. Eoin O'Neill weighed in at just over 7lbs. After a long day of texting back and forth with Daddy to be with the latest dilation results. All extremely well and getting even better. Congrats to all and especially well done little sister.

We raised a glass to the arrival over here.......... wine had to do the job. A pint of Guinness will be the order of the day when the family arrive over here later this year. Slainte.

Hope the sun was shining for Easter

I wonder do others have the same Easter memories as we do? Staying up late past midnight on Good Friday so ye could finally eat again after the whole 3 meals thing (or was it 1 meal and 2 something or other of a lesser size than a "meal")? Then finally getting to eat chocolate again after 39 days of Lenten abstinence (excluding St Paddy's of course) and absolutely horsing through your eggs (which were usually made of cheap crap chocolate coz that meant you could buy more, but anything would do at that point). And of course, there was "The Passion" on Good Friday. Warm, Spring afternoons, the first rays of summer starting to penetrate through the winter grey, finally kicking balls with those new boots ye got for Christmas, all of the Easter holidays ahead of you. But to enjoy such an Easter experience, one had to first suffer through an hour and a half in a jam-packed church, standing for the majority of the time, lining up to kiss the cross and then right at the end, when tantalisingly close to getting out, a decade of the rosary. 10 Hail Mary's? Ahhhh Jaysus...... the Passion. Mother of God. Literally.

The house renovations trickle along progress wise. Lots done, lots to do. Over the long weekend I spent a few hours under the house putting down a gravel and sand bed for the bladder water tank we've got. The things I would not have done in Ireland eh? Back-breaking and dirty work and have several cuts and bruises to prove I did it. Now whether or not it does the job is another matter. I decided not to believe the spirit level. Since there's no more watering the garden or filling the pool from the tap, this is now our only option for green stuff and a pool with actual water in it. Level 5 water restrictions kick in today - ye can't even wash your car now. Seriously, this is a fricken desert.

Little sis is now only a few days away from mammyhood. Exciting times.......

Speaking of which. Come November hopefully, there will be another Foley here in Brisvegas. Yes indeed. The 10 week scan (as they do it here) showed up only one kid in there so Aibhe will have another toy to play with (and attempt to batter) come Christmas time 2007. And life in general gets put on hold for a little while again. Can ye see him/her?

We're taking the "whip the band-aid off quickly" approach to all of this. I'd like to say Alissa has been well, but, alas, she's been sick as a small hospital. Now diagnosed with whooping cough of all things and FINALLY getting some drugs for it. Drugs that will do no harm to the above of course.

So there yis have it. Sure isn't this what the aul' blog is for wha?

Moving house

All brought to a new meaning for me in these past few days. I had heard of it, but witnessing it was a new experience. Well am sure you're all aware that because of the style of home here in Queensland ("the Queenslander" no less) one has the ability (if one so desires) to take ones house with you. Literally. Put it on the back of a large truck (largeness determined by size of gaf) and take it away. I assume they request that you clear out the furniture. So I arrive home Thursday evening with Alissa telling me to go have a look at the gaf at the back and to the left a bit. Sure enough, there is was, propped up on the back of a truck. That night, at about 12 midnight, it was like that bit in ET when the entire US military arrives into the young lads back yard. Lights blazing, machines grinding, engines revving and guys barking instructions all over the shop. Armagheddon had arrived. For 3 fricken hours. Apparantly, they can only physically do the moving of this kind during the midnight hours so there's little traffic on the road to contend with. We woke a couple of hours later to find that the house was no more. Goneski. Here is the place the house used to be. And thats not the end of the tale.

On Friday evening the news had a piece on a house that had fallen off the back of a truck on Waterworks road.... I'll bet there were no knackers to hand to try offload it for a quick tenner.

Other news sinks into the background with that one. Except to say that St Patricks day was good craic in the end, and quite a beautiful pint of Guinness was had in the Irish club in Brisbane at 9am that day. The Irish club itself was an interesting experience it must be said. I had visions of somewhere in Hells kitchen in New York in the early 20's - plastic Paddy's everywhere - and a smattering of Meath, Wexford, Cork and Clare GAA geansai's scattered around the gigantic ballroom. Then the ringleted multi coloured Irish dancers arrived - which was bloody fascinating to Aibhe bless her. There will be no Rose of Tralee out of here again for some time I'd venture. But thank God. I have found good (I'd go as far as to say, VERY good) Guinness. Aibhe seemed partial to it aswell. And they have sessions every Wednesday.

The house. Well, lets just leave it at this shall we?