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View My Stats From Bath to Cork with Baby Grace :: November :: 2005
UncategorizedNovember 28, 2005 11:22 pm

What a mess! My first re-usable nappy change: a soaking, sodden, soggy sack of urine.

After all my fine words extolling the virtues of ‘real’ nappies, I am pissed off. Grace was wet, wetter that I can ever remember her being. I was horrified but undaunted. Just as I got ready to put on a disposable for the night, she released a stream onto the plastic pants so that there was briefly a little lake, before most trickled backwards onto her night clothes.

I had to change everything while she complained that she wished she could go back to sleep. So I had to warn her that she would wake her mother. I asked her to be considerate, said that E. needed the sleep and that it was not fair to wake her.

This has really shaken my confidence in re-usables. Maybe it was simply bad luck. But if she has nappy rash in the morning…

Uncategorized 4:16 pm

The only place in Cork you can get any environmentally friendly nappy stuff is Roches Stores…

In the UK, Waitrose is the place. You can buy disposible nappies which are bio-degradable. TESCO, Sainsbury & Morrison don’t stock such items. I know, I checked in Bath.

So we all use disposables and fill landfill sites with plastic & chemicals. Are any of us ashamed of ourselves? Are any of us responsible enough to feel uneasy about what we put in the bin?

There are so many babies in Ireland…

that there must be a need to question our habits. After all, every action has consequences. There is a price to pay.

I remember the day I got excited about nappies. It was in a shop called “Born” in Bath in July this year. I saw the new tapered, fitted re-useable nappies. No more the heap or blob of heavy wet cotton that I used when Jacob was born (1982). Those unshapely Mr Blobby artefacts gave little payback. But they were economical. The latest technology is much more sexy, much better looking and so is all the paraphanalia that goes with them (liners, plastic pants…)

Today E. went out the country to a small business that has a really good website (”www.thebabyorchard.com”). It stores its supplies in a garage, boxes round the walls. But it seems to be the only place around Cork where you can get re-usable nappies.

In addition to the basic squares of cotton (6 euros), this business sells Popolini shaped nappies.

Now we are going to try out both types, the shaped and the unshaped.

Re-usable nappies are expensive: you have to spend a lot to get a basic kit. But there should be a saving over about a year. (How many nappies does a baby use per year?)

I think the real issue is whether we are prepared to be responsible about our environment. If we are, we should all be checking out re-usables.

Uncategorized 1:22 pm

This blogger is playing catch-up…

Having lost the opportunity to write on (1) How grandmothers got it wrong (2) Connecting to digital television (3) Boys for Housework: the need for a campaign (4) The first babysitter experience

And those are just the few topics I jotted down…

I am torn between staying in the now and giving expression to what’s been festering inside for days.

Just let it go… Release it into the ether… It wasn’t meant to be expressed… Whatever you were going to say will be said anyway: it’ll be latent in all your writing…

It’s already obvious that I have houseworked, that I have discovered pride in my cleaning, that I am itching to make reparation for the neglect of housework that I have practised. The change in me is already showing: I am to be a stayathomedad; I am to be a keep-the-house-clean person. It’s just the notion of campaigning on the issue that might be surprising?

Time to stop and see how the kitchen is getting on. Grace has slept from 1140 and it is now 1320. There were a few moans or complaints but I ignored those. Important to have a sense of priorites.

She’s a wonder. I’m sure she knows that I need to catch up with my blogging. Time to call her Grace Violetta the considerate one…

Uncategorized 1:04 pm

If you don’t get to know your neighbours…

A housing estate is a soulless place. I’ve never lived in suburbs before. This is not an accident. I’ve had a deliberate policy of avoiding living in a new house, avoiding modern developments: in 1975, I went to London from Waterloo Road in Dublin.

I lived in Hornsey Rise, Lordship Road (off Stoke Newington Church St.), Toriano Avenue (off Camden Rd), Prince of Wales Rd (right between Camden and Chalk Farm), Fitzjohn’s Ave (up from Swiss Cottage), Roman Rd (by Bethnal Green), Gayhurst Rd (at London Fields in Hackney).

In other words, inner city, a taxi ride from the centre. Old houses. Victorian terrace for the longest time. I felt at home among old bricks and a reasonable amount of grot.

I kept away from anything build in 20th century. It was the character, the patina, the way the construction had stood the test of time (and war), the way the communities were well established.

For me, the prospect of moving to suburban housing was tantamount to exile in a realm of tat. A land where people lived by television, soaps, comparing themselves with neighbours. A place where people distinguished themselves by the material goods they displayed, especially the cars in the driveway or garage.

I remember reading Evan Boland’s poems about her move to suburbia, and her book “Object Lessons” (brilliant stuff). I’ve forgotten all the detail but I found there another person who recognised the huge difference between inner city and the burbs.

Now I’m a suburbanite…

A semi-detached suburban man that the Beetles sang about (only we live in a “detached house”). We are one up from the others who inhabit a semi.

We have the same wafer-thin walls (plasterboard), the same bare pine boards, the same blinds which don’t keep out the light. But we have no one attached to us. We are free of the incumbrance of mutual interest in a dividing wall.

Every household seems to have two cars, one of which is seldom used. I wish I could show you a photo. There is no streetlife, no grot, no litter. Hardly any cars, vans, lorries go by. I have yet to see a bird in our garden. Maybe the birds are different on a middle class housing estate.

But there is a way to love this place…

I’ve not found it yet but I’m working on it.

Uncategorized 12:42 pm

Imagine being on a ship sailing from France to Ireland with a young child…

Add to that the complication that the child has measles, that you have been delayed boarding, you are tired and keen to get home after holiday.

Then put that situation into the middle of a vicious protracted industrial dispute that seems to be getting more intense by the day. You are now a pawn in the battle between management and trade union, and there is no way you can turn round or get off the ship.

You are prisonner at sea approaching a hostile port called Rosslare. So hostile that the ship diverts to Dublin City port. You are trapped and feeling abused. You curse both sides.

You wish someone told you what was going on, so that you could have put your children and wife on a plane home. you could have driven to Calais and got back that way, avoiding the front line.

As a citizen of Ireland, you imagine that your government might protect you from such an experience. You don’t know who to trust. All the interested parties are exactly that: interested parties who don’t have your interest at heart.

What is the government up to?

I’ve seen and heard ministers interviewed about this dispute between “Irish Ferries” and SIBTU (trade union representing the officers and crew on board).

I expected the government to say something like: this is an unfortunate dispute; it is hurting everyone (staff, company, the economy, the reputation of Ireland…); the two parties should settle this asap; it is not for us to take sides but to represent the wider public interest.

Instead the government has taken sides. The ministers and taoiseach have, of course, said that this is a terrible dispute, that it is important that it be settled soon.

But they have weighed in with powerful criticism of the tactics adopted by management. So strong has been their criticism of Irish Ferries management that I feel they have stepped over the mark and become advocates for one side.

This is rank cowardice and smells of electioneering, not wanting to be seen as impartial. There are probably votes in preventing themselves being outflanked by Labour & the left.

This is a failure by government to hold the ring between competing parties. If government doesn’t play this role, who does?

It is easy to criticise company management: they have adopted high-risk tactics, sending security staff on board (”to protect staff and assets”), sending new staff in to familiarise themselves with the ship (”in order to be in a position to operate the ship”). There is no agreed plan for the transition to a new regime. Both sides are still at war. No truce.

I think it is the responsibility of trade union and management to make a truce and formulate a transition plan. If they don’t do that, the business doesn’t deserve to continue. Competitors will pick up the business. You can’t have a business at war with itself.

The government is disgracing itself. The history of relations between management and trade union is relevant: it has led to the current war. There are desperate elements on both sides. Meanwhile, no profits being made; no returns for shareholders, no customers winning.

Someone, please talk sense into all sides.

UncategorizedNovember 27, 2005 9:10 pm

Total disaster

I can’t call it anything else.

My previous blog “http://omaniblogg.blogs.ie” suddenly became impossible to write. I got a message saying “your session has expired”. Every time I tried to log in I got thrown into a loop which went nowhere.

I tried changing my password several times. No good.

Days passed. I got demoralised, angry, frustrated, desperate…

Because I’d got the blog for nothing (free), I felt I had noone to complain about. Perhaps the system was like that: it let you use it for a while and then dumped you?

The worst thing was that I was just getting into my stride, posting something almost every day, when the blockage descended.

No matter. That’s all the past now. We are in now now. Only one way to go, forward with a new blog. I’ll put a link to the old and leave it at that.

So far as I know there were only a few people who ever read my old blog: Rachel, William, Paige and my sister Tricia. But I must set up a way of recording how many people visit.

Resolution:

Set up a record of visits to this blog. (number 1 resolution)

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