Lily's Blog

Ever find you know something, but you don’t really know. Here I’m referring to granola. I love granola and frequently make it with a recipe from my sister. But if someone was to ask me what exactly granola is, I might struggle a bit. Yes I know it is a breakfast cereal. Yes I know the basic ingredients. Yes I make it. But …

What exactly is granola? Resort to dictionary. Granola: a kind of breakfast cereal consisting typically of rolled oats, brown sugar or honey, dried fruit, and nuts. I know that but …

What’s the difference between granola and muesli. Resort to google. One of answers: Granola is toasted/baked, while muesli is raw.

But what about crunchy muesli, is that not cooked? Look for recipe for crunchy muesli to see if it is cooked. This was one I found: a recipe for Crunchy Granola (Muesli)

I gave up, none the wiser.

Whatever granola exactly is, this granola recipe is great!

Maple Walnut Granola

325g Rolled Oats
1 cup Rice Bran
140g Sesame Seeds
75g Dried Cranberries
75g Dried Currants
140g Chopped Walnuts
1 teaspoon Ground Allspice to taste
50ml Organis Rapeseed Oil
225ml Maple Syrup
1 teaspoon Vanilla Essence

Pre-heat oven to 250 deg F
Cook for 90 minutes, stirring every 15 minutes

Anyone know?

Thirty years ago, the twentieth Yeats Summer School was held in Sligo
Thirty years ago, Lord Mountbatten was killed just north of Sligo
and
Thirty years ago, I started my first job in Sligo.

My memory of starting my first job is bound up with both of these events.

The twentieth Yeats Summer School was just commencing when I started my first job after college in Sligo, in the summer of 1979. New recruits to the company were accommodated in local hotels for a few weeks until they found their own accommodation.

Hotels in Sligo were busy, it being summer-time and because of visitors to the Yeats Summer School.

Soon hotels in Sligo weren’t just busy, they were chockablock.

Quoting the BBC website of news of that day, 27th August 1979:

The Queen’s cousin, Lord Louis Mountbatten, has been killed by a bomb blast on his boat in Ireland. One of the earl’s twin grandsons, Nicholas, 14, and Paul Maxwell, 15, a local employed as a boat boy, also died in the explosion. The attack was followed only hours later by the massacre of 18 soldiers, killed in two booby-trap bomb explosions near Warrenpoint close to the border with the Irish Republic … Lord Mountbatten, aged 79, and his family had traditionally spent their summer holiday at their castle in County Sligo, north west of Ireland. They were aboard his boat, Shadow V, which had just set off from the fishing village of Mullaghmore, when the bomb detonated around 1130 BST.

The IRA immediately claimed responsibility for the bomb. The following day another passenger on the boat, Lady Brabourne aged 82, died.

I still remember the sheer shock and sadness that enveloped Sligo. That sadness lasted a long time.

Though I remember the ‘Warrenpoint bombings’, I have no recollection that they happened on the same day as Lord Mountbatten’s murder.

In the years following, we regularly went horse-riding on Mullaghmore beach. Classiebawn Castle where Lord Mountbatten holidayed with his family was like something out of a fairytale. The following photograph shows the castle against the backdrop of Ben Bulben.

However, probably like many others, I could never look at the castle without thinking of the events of that awful day. The castle and surrounding lands are now privately owned by Hugh Tunney, a retired businessman.

In the years following, I went to India and became very interested in reading more of Lord Mountbatten’s life and the events surrounding India gaining its independence. I particularly enjoyed Freedom at Midnight, by Dominique Lapierre and Larry Collins.

Fifty years ago, the first Yeats Summer School was held in Sligo.
The fiftieth Yeats Summer School has just finished in Sligo this weekend.

The hotel we stayed with in St Paul had offices on the upper floors. I was interested in two offices on the list.

The fourth office on the list is ‘Dads make a difference’. Their website is here. Their mission is to promote the positive involvement of fathers and to educate youth about responsible parenting.

The eleventh down is for ‘MN (Minnneapolis) Fathers and Families’. Their website is here. They state that they are leading Minnesota’s campaign for healthy fatherhood.

I was stuck by two organisations in the one building promoting responsible fatherhood.

Tommy pointed out a chapter Jeremy Clarkson had written in his book ‘The world according to Clarkson’. The chapter entitled ‘Speaking as a father, I’ll never be a mother’ opened with:

‘Bob Geldof, perhaps the second most famous single dad in Britain, said last week that courts need to understand that not all men are brutal, indifferent boors who are incapable of raising children’.

Clarkson discussed being a father, but I was really surprised by his conclusion:

‘To fathers, kids are fun. To mothers, they’re a responsibility. That’s why it’s so important to have both. And it’s also why, if there’s no option, courts have to side with the mums.’

I can’t agree with Clarkson’s conclusion. I don’t feel that life is as simple as this, at all.

To sleepless in Minnesota,
and Limerick,
and wherever.

I need to study more …

Pillow ology to be precise!

Well with over 500 shops in Mall of America, they have to start specialising!

Today is Middle mouse’s birthday.

John eventually arrived into this world on Bank Holiday Monday nineteen years ago. John was in no hurry anywhere. Already a week overdue, I had been brought into hospital to be induced but the drip contained ‘water’ as far as John was concerned. John was comfy and cozy where he was and wasn’t budging. I was sent home that evening – a case of failed induction.

No wonder John likes his bed!

This 11lb baby was eventually delivered by caesarian section on the Bank Holiday, ten days late. He was given no choice but to be grabbed from his covers.

No wonder I sometimes have to resort to this to get him up!

As an aside Denis and I had a good day on Induction Thursday. We played Scrabble for the day. (Can’t remember who won!) Since we realised we were in for the long haul, we needed entertaiment. Eldest mouse (two years old) was being minded at home, and we didn’t want to disturb him, so Denis went out and bought a new game of Scrabble. We are still playing with Induction day box nineteen years later.

John arrived into the world needing a haircut. He could have been the fifth Beatle.

The book I’m reading contained the following piece whch really resonated with me. ‘When your’re pregnant, you can think of nothing but having your own body to yourself again; yet after giving birth you realize that the biggest part of you is now somehow external, subject to all sorts of dangers … , so you spend the rest of your life trying to figure out how to keep him/her close enough for comfort. That’s the strange thing about being a mother.’

Raising a child is the one relationship in life where separation is a successful outcome. That doesn’t mean we mothers don’t worry. I do worry, lots, particularly when the mice are flying. Both are currently in Vancouver hopefully (the hope is theirs!) finishing their licences. I worry big time. As I’ve said before though, I wouldn’t dream of trying to stop them.

So as John is just about the ‘fly the nest’, a big Happy Birthday. I’m hugely proud of the boy we have reared.

(Just thinking, he will probably even have a licence to ‘fly the nest’!)

Sleeping.

When it comes to sleeping I’m a big bag of fail, as the boys would say.

The problem is I need my sleep, lots of it, to be at my best
The problem is I’ve had a lifetime of practice, but am still no good at it
The problem is I’m the jealous type – jealous of those who are good sleepers.

I’m alone in my family in this department. Denis and youngest mice mostly get ‘A’ ratings. Eldest mouse doesn’t seem to actually need sleep. He can sleep little, then work away as normal without even seeming to notice. When he runs out of charge, he crashes and catches up on as much as he needs. A friend of his (whom I know through this blog), recently emailed me a great photo of him sleeping curled up like a baby on a train in San Francisco.

Flying backwards and forwards across the Atlantic is no problem to any of them.

Me I can’t do it in one country so forget about crossing time zones.

In addition, I find my best ideas come in the middle of the night, therefore I can’t go to bed without pen and paper by my side to jot them down. At this stage I can write well in the dark. Once I write the idea down, I’m rid of it and free to get back to sleep, well try at least.

Over the years I have developed cruthes. Though a noisy person by nature, I have to have quiet to work. I despise the radio when I’m working. At night I can’t sleep without the radio – talk radio, it can’t be music. Whilst it has to be interesting radio, I don’t really listen to it. Obviously this is all through ear phones as I can’t waken sleeping beauty when he’s beside me. When travelling I will download podcasts.

So thank you George Hook, Marian Finnucane, Ivan Yates, Eamon Dunphy et al.

You’re all great at keeping me …

Asleep!

Yesterday, youngest mouse and I ventured downtown St Paul. We saw that there was an Titanic artifacts exhibition on at the Science Museum, so went to see it.

The exhibition covering 14,000 square feet in a series of rooms, told the story of the Titanic. It opened with a brief setting of the time, then quickly led into the design, building and the one and only voyage of that fateful ship.

The collection includes 250 artifacts from more than 5,500 objects recovered since the 882-foot ship sank on 15th April 1912. Those on display included engineering tools, sink, tap, floor tiles, suit case, tootbrush, a waiter’s jacket with the name ‘Broome’ handwritten on the collar, perfume vials, an assortment of china. Some of the manufacturers are names which are still around today. The exhibition also included a three-ton section of Titanic’s hull, a simulated iceberg and recreations of first and third class accomodations. Third class accomodation consisted of four bunks in a cabin, which didn’t look very different to a cabin in modern car ferries, minus an en-suite though

Menus from first, second and third class dining were included. Naturally first class was very impressive but third class didn’t seem at all bad either.

My only criticism of the exhibition was that entrance tickets were White Star Line boarding passes in the names of Titanic passengers. I felt this was a little in bad taste. I was a 27 year old female travelling alone. Tommy was an 18 year old also travelling alone. (I won’t give our names.) At the end of the exhibition we had to look up ‘our names’ on the lists of those who survived and those who perished. I survived. Tommy perished.

Perish the thought!

The last remaining survivor of the Titanic only died in England earlier this year, aged 97. She had been a two month old baby on that fateful night.

All in all, an interesting exhibition.

Denis and I were driving along one day, when we passed this house. I took this photograph becuse it was just such a shock of purple. Prince’s song Purple Rain came into my head.

What I didn’t know was that Prince is actually from here in Minneapolis. It’s 25 years since the album Purple Rain was number one, the song White Doves Cry was number one song and the film inspired by the album, was number one film.

Purple definitely rained reigned in 1984.

Last time I was travelling, the airport shop by early afternoon was clean out of the Irish Times. This morning I was taking no chances. I stocked up with a load of Sunday papers before I even got near the airport.

Well I had plenty of time on my hands. Seven hours of flying on the first of a three-leg journey – I wasn’t going anywhere fast.

I have now read so much of NAMA, I could go and work for it. I know so much about Glenda Gilson and Johnny Ronan’s stormy relationship, I could be their agony aunt. Speaking of stormy relationships, seems the two Brians may also be needing relationship advice.

There’s a lot of reading in the Sunday Business Post, Tribune, Times and Indo.

One article in the Sunday Indo by Eilis O’Hanlon brought a smile to my face – ‘How Sat Nav can put your marriage on the right road’,

See instead of complaining, I should really be thankful to that ‘other woman’. It appears that ‘instead of blaming the Sat Nav, we should thank it for saving countless marriages.’

‘For decades, September has seen a sharp rise in the number of couples seeking divorce because they have just spent the entire annual family holiday bickering, and nine times out of ten the rows started in the car as they attempted to find their way to that rural gite in France …’

Phew aren’t I glad we camped.

It appears that parents fighting over one partner’s poor navigation skills eventually end up with not only having to pay the divorce lawyer but also child therapy for the kids.

Youngest mouse, you have to be thankful too. ‘That other woman’ saved you from the therapist!

Now where have I heard this before? ‘Even when you miss an exit, the sat nav doesn’t get irritable, or sigh theatrically, or mutter under its breath … it simple adjusts automatically to your mistake and endeavours to find the next best alternative, speaking the new instructions calmy and patiently.’ Like me, the author complains of that soothing female voice which sounds like listening to a Mother Superior, and suggests it should sound like “What the @£$% did you go left for? Are you deaf, you @£$%ing moron?”

She recommends that the Catholic Church investigate changing the words of the sacrament of marriage to ‘love, honour and obey and always switch on the sat nav when embarking on any journey longer than a trip to the shops.’

Not sure why she’s only worrying about Catholics, what about all non-Catholic marriages?

But it got me thinking, told you I wasn’t short of time!

If the Sat Nav does save countless relationships, maybe that’s all Glenda Gilson, Johnny Ronan and indeed the two Brians need.

Relationship problems solved.

Who knows, maybe the country might even get some direction!