Monday, August 16, 2010

Oh, For A Whole Month Of Sundays

On Sunday evening we sat in Kelly's restaurant, dressed for dinner and too tired even to talk. The waitress brought our dessert menus and we did the usual dance to decide who'd order what, though we eat from each other's plates anyway. There were tears in Andrew's eyes as he dithered somewhere between a pavlova and a passionfruit tartlet.


On Monday we skittered across to the hotel carpark to open our presents. It was like Christmas in the boot of our Carisma. Every kind word in each of the cards made me smile, so I took them back to our room and lined them up on the dresser. Then I had another nap, while Andrew read his book and stroked my hair. Later, we took tea and cake in the garden and then had a walk on Rosslare strand. "Our kids can send us here for our anniversaries" I said, streaking merrily ahead of myself. It's nice to have the confidence to do that.


On Tuesday afternoon we took a mudbath. I smoothed the dark brown clay over my skin, making swirls with my fingertips. "Look!" I said to Andrew as I rubbed my brown pot belly "This is what I would look like if I was black and pregnant! Or white, fat and covered in mud..." I added hastily, lest my new husband took me for a racist. He looked like Al Jolson, but I didn't like to say so.


We ate lunch in a café in Waterford on Wednesday. "Would you like to pay together or separately?" asked the waiter. Andrew glared at him. "But we're married!" he didn't say. He just handed him over the money.


On Wednesday night we went to Connie Doolan's in Cobh for a drink. I didn't think it was open, but Andrew gave the door a good shove and we landed in, looking a bit lost, to find a fella dandling a little Pomeranian on his knee and a lady tending bar though there wasn't a sinner in there. "Are ye open?" They were, so I bolted for the jacks and left Andrew to settle us in. By the time I'd washed my hands he'd told them we were on honeymoon and the first round was on the house. We spent the rest of the evening idly chatting, the owner illustrating his anecdotes with the pictures taped to the pub walls. On the way back to our hotel, the taxi driver told us that the pub had been won in a raffle. I dunno if he meant the Guinness "Give a Yank a Pub" grushy (a painter from Boston won the pub for a poem) or if there'd been a subsequent raffle where Danny and his doggle lucked out. I'd like to think so. We promised to drop in the following night if we were in Cobh. We were, but we didn't. I feel bad about that now.


On Thursday morning in Fota, the waitress brought tea to our table and asked me if my husband would like any sauces to go with his breakfast. I beamed at her and asked for some brown sauce pleasethankyou. "She called you my husband!" I said to him when he returned from the buffet. "Why'd you get brown sauce?" he said.


We went on a ghost tour in Kinsale on Friday night, with about 40 kids. One fella told flowery tales about the town while the other hid around corners and in wheeliebins, jumping out on cue with a bowel-loosening BOO! It was brilliant.


We took our kites to the beach in Garrettstown on Saturday morning. Mine is a little blue biplane. Its wheels fell off mid-flight but Andrew rescued them from the surf, even though he had shoes on and I didn't. He's my hero.


On Sunday evening we went up to Johnnie Fox's for a game of Pitch and Putt. "I'd use your putter for that one" said Andrew, every fucking time I went to take a shot. It didn't matter a damn as I was using my pitcher as a putter anyway. We didn't keep score, but I reckon I won on account of me not coming close to killing anyone, and Andrew coming perilously so. We tried to get dinner in Enniskerry afterwards, but everywhere was shut, so we took a spin to Bray to get some chips. I had romantic notions about eating them on the seafront, but it was choked with carnies so we ended up snarfing them in the car on Novara Avenue, for want of a place to park. They were cold by then, and heavy with grease. I didn't mind. Bray's where my grandparents honeymooned many moons ago, and as my nana said, it didn't do them any harm. Mind you, they weren't staying in the Ritz. We trailed back to our room there smelling of salt and vinegar, dodging the doormen on our way in as they swarmed to wish us well. "Were you greeted enthusiastically by our staff? Did they bid you a fond farewell?" asked the comment card on the bureau in our room. I felt sorry for them, reading that. Still, I didn't tip.


I was ill on the Monday. Good livin' doesn't mix well with Glucophage, the medication I take to treat my polycystic ovaries. And we'd been livin' so good that by rights we should have come home with gout. Andrew is quietly sympathetic and solicitous when I'm sick. It reminds me why I'm taking the stupid medication in the first place.


We came home last Tuesday. "You're my lovely wife" he said to me, and his big brown Labrador eyes looked wet with pride. He's said it most every day since, even on the days when I'm being a total arsehole. Long may this honey moon last.


A. said...

This is the loveliest thing I've read in ages.

the dublinista said...

You continue to restore my faith in true love.

Even though we've never met (although I once cycled by you eating out in a restaurant at Portobello bridge)I think of the two of you often*.

* Feel free to change your locks.

Conor said...

What they said. Beautiful post. I had something in my eye but I've wiped it better now.

Tessa said...

Oh dear. I'm undone by this post. Lovely, just lovely.

Katherine said...

Aw lookit that was just lovely. Long may it continue.

Annie said...

this is the best thing I have read all summer long


Jennikybooky said...

Oh Christ that was worse than watching videos of soldiers coming home from Iraq and surprising their families. Snot flying everywhere!

I just love the two of ye. The next time I go home now I'm going to walk the streets of Waterford like "Rosie and Andrew were here".

Kitty Cat said...

I think I went "Aw" a record number of times reading that. I love the part about the brown sauce. Ridiculously lovely and sweet, the pair of ye.

MJ said...

Hurray for you both!

That is all.

conor Horgan said...

Lovely :)

Marion said...

Thanks for sending this to me...when did you become all grown up?

Gorgeous...what a privilege to read this.

Love and laughter to you both,

Marion xxx

Some Birds said...

My goodness that is brilliant - both the honeymoon and how you write about it.

maureen said...

thats my girl!!!!!!!!
love and a life filled with laughter to you and 'our' andy


Rosemary said...

Love this post. So lovely, so touching. I think I equally love the comment from your mammy.

Séamus Keleher said...

I know the American who won the pub, he won it with a drawing of a pint of Guinness with words about the stages of pouring a perfect pint of Guinness.

blackwatertown said...

Lovely - especially your crossness at people not immediately assuming you're married.

Rosie said...

thanks, folks. i wrote it so's i'd stop telling people that we did nothing on our honeymoon. we didn't take any photos on our travels, so it will be nice to have this as a snapshot of it in years to come.

Dublinista, say hi next time! you big weirdo.

Jennie, when we're famous you can give guided tours of our old haunts. the 2 room flat in portobello... the chipper on the corner...

circa september 2008, Marion. i honestly don't know how it happened.

Mam! morto! when have i ever called you "mammy"?

i like his paintings, Séamus. has he written the book yet?

Anne said...

Thought there was going to be a bit at the end where you woke up and it was all a dream. Didn't know people like you existed, best of luck to you! Hope for us sad singles yet!

Leitrim Lass said...

Ach, I love this. Not sure why I feel like I want to cry (or at least get rid of the lump in my throat) when really I am so so happy for you.

Rosie said...

join me in waiting for the other shoe to drop, Anne!

it's just cause you miss me, Caroline, you big jessie. x

demurelemur said...

I laughed. I choked up a bit. I am in 'aww' of you two.