Last week I complained about the weather, my biggest issue was the rain, it was too wet to be outdoors and I my only options to entertain kids were indoor play areas and McDonalds. Sure, I waxed lyrical the first few weeks about the smell of the rain and the fresh air, but the novelty had worn off.
I complained about the amount of laundry that five people accumulate and how teenagers put something in the laundry basket rather than hanging it up. I may also have mentioned on a number of occasions how difficult it was to dry clothes in such damp conditions, even time a shower starter there was a sprint (7 months pregnant or more or a clumsy mosey, but still) to the clothes line, pegs and all in off the line and back out ten minutes later to take advantage of the next sunny spell. The waistbands were still damp in the evening but not to worry, owing to the unprecedented low temperatures for August/ September the central heating would be on low so you could decorate every rad in the house with a few garments.
Irish mothers getting children ready for school had to battle with the juxtaposition of them needing a jacket for wet windy days and a t-shirt for the days the temperature dared to pass 18 degrees. Chaotic school parking meant that tensions were bound to run high at pick up time, as no-one wants their little cherub to have to walk too far in the rain.
All the above typical problems in everyday life in Ireland so as it was time for us to migrate again to the middle east, I was happy enough to accept. We cleaned the summer rental from head to toe, marvelled at the amount of crap we had accumulated over one summer. I sorted the keys for each door, front, back, patio, big window in the kitchen, making sure that all were locked and that each of the corresponding keys and copies of same were duly handed back. After the usual visit to the car rental company, 200 miles from home, we parked the car 5 miles from the car hire office and had to take a shuttle bus in order to fill in all the requisite paperwork, ‘did you have an accident?’ ‘If not noticeable would you admit it?’ that sort of thing and before we knew it, we were off to the Middle East again.
This week, I am complaining once again about the weather, it’s too hot. The springs on the trampoline have snapped, the plants are all dead and the once red tricycle is now a faded pink but on the plus side, I’ve got five loads of washing out and in today, there’s great drying here.
Getting young children sorted for school is another issue, in 50 degree heat outside and sub 22 inside, it’s a hat/ umbrella and sunscreen, shoes and socks outside (too hot for crocs as they slimy) and inside the ideal attire is shoeless with a t-shirt and shorts. Chaotic or no parking and soaring heat results in road rage at drop off and pick up as no-one wants their little cherub to have to walk in the heat.
The house was fine, dusty but fine. As we never had a key in the first place, the doors were left unlocked all summer so we avoided that panicked fumble when you land at the airport and search for the house keys. The car was delivered to the door by the hire company, a signature from my sofa, secured another years rental. I rang for a maid to come the next morning to give everything a once over and as we unpacked we marvelled at the amount of crap we had accumulated over the summer.
There is nothing to do and the only options I have to entertain kids are indoor play areas, McDonalds, or the swimming pool, at night time where I can dive in and cool off (7 months pregnant so it’s more like sit and bathe on the periphery and wallow like a small hippo) still, better than the clumsy waddle to the clothes line of last week, I suppose.