Your columnist is madder than a March hare this week, as she vents her frustrations on everything and anything from her TV trauma to the seemingly constant rain, to Beyoncé and next week’s time change.
I’VE had a bit of a ‘meh’ week, where I’ve been channelling a lot of inner anger. Actually, most of the time it’s been outer anger, as I’ve been letting it all out (that’s the joys of living in the country where you can let rip with expletives and no one hears ... very cleansing, I’d recommend it).
Anyway, I’m not sure if I’m suffering from hormonal rage (something most women my age talk a lot about), or that I’m just a naturally angry person (this could also be true), or if it’s the weather (more on that later), but in no particular order here’s what irked me this week....
RTÉ’s Home of the Year. I know this is not a popular opinion as the nation adores this series, but personally I’m sick of seeing these insanely curated houses every week (where’s all the home owners stuff is what I want to know ... there’s never a school bag or a hurley in sight, or an air fryer either, for that matter).
I’m also sick of the judges, Hugh and his flamboyant shirts, Amanda and her faux-chiding of Hugh and the other judge whose name I can’t remember, sorry.
I’m sick of all their ‘wows!’ and I’m especially sick of the homeowners when they say how ‘proud’ they are of what they have achieved.
I’m sorry now like, they haven’t come up with a cure for cancer, just a nice colour scheme! Get over yourselves!
Staying with the small screen can I take a moment to give thanks that this year’s Dancing With The Stars has finally ended.
I couldn’t have taken another Sunday of the marathon programme! It had somehow established itself as ‘family’ time in our house and there has been no getting out of it since it started in January.
Having given it a solid 11 weeks (that’s at least 22 hours – almost a full day!) I feel I deserved a mention in the credits, or a free ticket to see the final.
Having said all that, I was thrilled that my favourites, Jason and Karen were the winners (and I even unexpectedly shed a tear... but I’m not sure, that could have been from sheer relief that we were over the finish line).
I don’t know what I’m going to do now with my bonus ‘two hours’ from next week but I’m sure I’ll find something (and complain about it).
And of course with the clocks going forward next week (March 31st) we’ll have more time again.
I’m actually kind of undecided about the time change.
Longer days are lovely for sure, but only if we’ve blue skies to look at and not the eternal damp, fog and mist we’ve been subjected to of late.
It’s made drying clothes a major dose, which is not helping my home aesthetic one bit, although now that I’ve given up on all that, it’s been liberating flinging underwear on the clothes horse with wild abandon, and wondering what Amanda would make of it all, ha!
To be fair the brutal weather has pushed even the most resilient of us towards the edge. And you can keep your ‘there’s no such thing as bad weather only bad clothes’ toxic positivity too.
I reckon some Scandinavian came up with that one as the rain in Ireland just hits different, sort of sideways and cold.
If we don’t get some blue skies soon I reckon we’ll all crack up and so will the poor farmers.
The cows can hardly get into the fields, slurry spreading is very difficult, not to mention anyone trying to set crops like potatoes. Let’s hope conditions improve and fast.
What else bugged me this week? Oh yes, the fact that I keep forgetting to segregate bottles and cans for the returns scheme and have to wade through the recycling bin to retrieve them.
A first world problem I know but it’s still annoying, but every little helps etc. Speaking of finances, I’m also wildly put out by the fact that I haven’t won the Lottery yet (any of its iterations: midweek, roll over, Euro, even my local GAA lotto) despite the fact that I play often.
If, as the ad says, it could be you, then why can’t it be me? I’d do some good with the winnings too – buy a proper rain coat and a new recycling bin for the cans to return etc. My only indulgence would be to run the tumble dryer every now and then.
In other irksome news, I see pedal pushers are back in fashion and a big trend for ’24.
As someone who wore them when they were first out (it was the era when we all slavishly copied Carrie Bradshaw), I’ll be giving them a hard pass this time round but it’s further proof, if you needed it, that you should never give anything away from your wardrobe!
Now, I did enjoy the St Patrick’s day parades I have to say. I love a good parade and was half tempted to grab a Southern Star umbrella and start twirling it around like a majorette and join in myself for the craic.
Maybe next year! We went to the parade in Courtmacsherry and it was great to see community spirit alive and well and it’s something we’ll hopefully see again for this weekend’s Daffodil Day, which does such great work every year and deserves our full support.
Like everything else, you won’t know of the great services the Irish Cancer Society does until you actually need any of them yourself so keep that in mind when volunteers are out and about on our streets.
Ok one last moan for the road: Beyonce’s ‘Texas Hold ‘Em’ ... can we make it go away? Louis Walsh ... can he stop being such a wally? And Kate Middleton ... can she just make a statement please to let us all know she’s ok, that’s surely not asking too much of the princess is it? Exactly.
I feel an awful better after unloading all of that – much cheaper than therapy, and thanks for listening.
