Dear Jacinta
Dear Jacinta
Do you remember Easter Sunday when we were kids? It was a day to look forward to, a day when the Easter Bunny would come bearing the most divine chocolate eggs after what seemed like an lifetime of austerity that lasted a mere forty days and forty nights. As kids, we all had to give up something for Lent, be it sweets or chocolate or even sugar in my tea that I gamely gave up when I was about twelve years old (and I never put a drop of sugar in my tea again). And then the pay off: gorging ourselves on chocolate eggs till we were sick. One year, Donal and I ganged up on you: we hid our stash and looked to you, empty handed, for sympathy. Great cackles of laughter after you shared your store with both of us, your generosity played upon by two older - but no wiser - siblings who repaid that kindness by refusing to share what we had left with you. Oh, it was great fun! Can I, even though I'm sure you have long forgotten the incident, offer an apology that is not forty days, but forty years late in coming? Were you here with me today, Jacinta, I would give you my Celtic Egg full of rich, mouth-watering dark chocolate on a bed of mint crisp morsels with a heart and a half.
Today, it's also my brother's birthday and though I haven't heard a word from him for years I'd like to wish him, my partner in crime, a very happy day. I'm sure he's way past stuffing his face with oval shaped globs of chocolate but I'll always see him as a cheeky ten year old with tell tale signs around the sides of his mouth of past eaten delicacies.
I woke up early this morning and made a Barm Brack, the traditional cake/bread that the Irish produce for Halloween (I must have got my festivities mixed up) and then launched into kneading a fresh loaf of Tomato & Rosemary bread. With a white wash
billowing on the line and half the lawn mowed, I settled down to read Faithful Place by Tana French, a crime writer from Dublin who has captured the essence of family life in the Liberties (as far as this born-and-bred Southsider knows!) in a novel that will appear on the shelves in August 2010. French has created a lively cast of characters ranging from the Ma who provides a heart-attack-on-a-plate breakfast with plenty of motherly nagging and moaning; the Da who continues to make everyone's life a living hell through his love affair with alcohol; brothers and sisters who love and loath each other in equal measure, and Frank, the undercover cop, the brother they haven’t seen in years. Throw in a few dead bodies and you have all the ingredients for a story that will take your mind off all the other jobs that need doing around the house.
Happy Easter, readers, and I hope you all enjoy the rest of the long weekend.
Do you remember Easter Sunday when we were kids? It was a day to look forward to, a day when the Easter Bunny would come bearing the most divine chocolate eggs after what seemed like an lifetime of austerity that lasted a mere forty days and forty nights. As kids, we all had to give up something for Lent, be it sweets or chocolate or even sugar in my tea that I gamely gave up when I was about twelve years old (and I never put a drop of sugar in my tea again). And then the pay off: gorging ourselves on chocolate eggs till we were sick. One year, Donal and I ganged up on you: we hid our stash and looked to you, empty handed, for sympathy. Great cackles of laughter after you shared your store with both of us, your generosity played upon by two older - but no wiser - siblings who repaid that kindness by refusing to share what we had left with you. Oh, it was great fun! Can I, even though I'm sure you have long forgotten the incident, offer an apology that is not forty days, but forty years late in coming? Were you here with me today, Jacinta, I would give you my Celtic Egg full of rich, mouth-watering dark chocolate on a bed of mint crisp morsels with a heart and a half.
Today, it's also my brother's birthday and though I haven't heard a word from him for years I'd like to wish him, my partner in crime, a very happy day. I'm sure he's way past stuffing his face with oval shaped globs of chocolate but I'll always see him as a cheeky ten year old with tell tale signs around the sides of his mouth of past eaten delicacies.
I woke up early this morning and made a Barm Brack, the traditional cake/bread that the Irish produce for Halloween (I must have got my festivities mixed up) and then launched into kneading a fresh loaf of Tomato & Rosemary bread. With a white wash
billowing on the line and half the lawn mowed, I settled down to read Faithful Place by Tana French, a crime writer from Dublin who has captured the essence of family life in the Liberties (as far as this born-and-bred Southsider knows!) in a novel that will appear on the shelves in August 2010. French has created a lively cast of characters ranging from the Ma who provides a heart-attack-on-a-plate breakfast with plenty of motherly nagging and moaning; the Da who continues to make everyone's life a living hell through his love affair with alcohol; brothers and sisters who love and loath each other in equal measure, and Frank, the undercover cop, the brother they haven’t seen in years. Throw in a few dead bodies and you have all the ingredients for a story that will take your mind off all the other jobs that need doing around the house.Happy Easter, readers, and I hope you all enjoy the rest of the long weekend.
Labels: brothers, Easter, sisters, Tana French
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