There Is No Better Feeling


A Belly Flop into the sea on a blissful sunny Friday in Dublin is the finest of things.

A few friends and I took to the 40 foot and plunged into the cold sea water, in the least graceful fashion, to cool off from the tropical heatwave Dublin is currently enjoying.

In the “hazy, lazy, crazy days of Summer” version of events we remember the kids’ laughter, smell of suncream and sight of 99s all ’round fondly and omit the pretty brutal girl fight we witnessed from across the beach. It is still Dublin after all!

Instead bombing into the sea at speed, the fuzzy feeling of drying off in the sun and flaking out on the beach as the sun sank slowly lower in the sky will live on in the much-instagramed Summer of 2013 memory box.

This may seem unusual to those from warmer places but the ability to spend an evening outside without the threat of imminent rain, hail or sub-zero temperatures is so unbelievably out of the ordinary. The wonderful novelty of of sauntering about town with no jacket! Our little country breaking from it’s baltic norm.

The joys!

sea waves


Dirty Cup

dirty cup

A dirty cup is just a dirty cup……until you tell it a joke.

laughing cup

Caffeine Buzz

I’m 36 hours into a crazed, caffeine-fueled, massively efficient work week.

Four coffees and six cans of Diet Coke a day seems to suit my system, I’m starting to wonder how I ever got anything done without it. I feel like I’m in a video game. One where I’m winning. Winning at life. I’m getting through to-do lists like never before, the house is spotless and I’ve all of my craft class projects up to date.

I don’t really know if I’m actually more productive or just more enthusiastic and positive about a fairly average amount of work getting done but it feels soooooo good!

They’re Calling Me “Accident-Prone” (Polite Word For Clumsy)

So, I had another little tumble.

Having taken up running 8 days ago I decided to take my new fast legs for a spin through Herbert Park and hit the deck after tripping over some uneven ground. It would be fair to say that the highest stone sticking out of the ground was about 4cm above level and I should have been lifting said fast legs higher than this but I still feel like it was the fault of the dirt track and not my own (*shakes fist at earth). I ploughed into the ground in front of two runners (real ones) and two groundskeepers, who helped me to the nearest tap to clean my wound (conveniently placed exactly where my February bike fall left me maimed). My arm is all stingy and sore but my pride came off a bit worse.

jenny 106

Given my history of failing to stay upright all the time and what I would call an unlucky run of injuries, I should probably have given this running career a tad more thought. I’ll keep on trucking for now, maybe even taking more care of myself and watching for obstacles.

Note to self: Lift legs higher.

*UPDATE: Two days later I was swinging my arms two vigorously while walking and punched a wheelie bin. I now have a plaster on my knuckles to match my arm. I, personally, think it makes me look more street.

Just Blend In……….

Here Goes.

I just bought two lady magazines a Diet Coke and a coffee. My plan is to sit down, drink a lot of caffeinated liquid and pretend to know what I’m doing. I’m wearing red nail varnish (a throwback to my England trip -the honest truth I can’t find my nail varnish remover) and that’s making me surprisingly more comfortable turning the glossy pages.

I still feel a little like a fraud.

I don’t know who Cara Delevigne is and there’s a two-page story on her. It seems I’m expected to already know who she is -since they offer no explanation. I’m going to Wiki her on the sly under the table. Embarrassingly, you only need to put CARA into google and it knows who I’m looking for. Of course she’s a model! Holy crap -she was born in the 90s!

Moving on, a smattering of Sex Info that I find interesting, more celebrity gossipy stuff that I find less intimidating and head-first into shoes and junk that I think looks silly. It’s good to know that white and floral clothes are all the rage these days, a bunch of angry-looking models are staring at me.

There’s a Twilight Saga review in here that damn near made me cry.

I am so out of my depth!

I may be getting too serious about the supposedly light-hearted, sexy, glossy magazines but I can’t help thinking how enormously hollow it is -and in turn makes me feel. Instead of feeling like a newly-empowered, magazine-toting woman, I feel drained by every word in this thing. Don’t get me wrong, there are healthy elements to it, I find the sex advice very pro-woman, confidence-boosting and generally positive, then there’s a career section that has excellent guidance and an overall bold and encouraging message. That aside, I’m drowning in a sea of advertisements, designed to play on insecurities.

If I could pop a copy of Country Living or even Woman’s Way in to this sexy, glossy cover I would. I’d take knitting patterns, recipes, gardening pointers and calm innocence over looking at moody-looking models, self esteem-shattering celebrity comparisons, endless shallow wardrobe and cosmetic tripe on the hard sell any day. That sort of sums up the energy of it though, hiding my boring, middle-aged, domestic self under the guise of interest/participation in young, fashionable (empty, to my mind) endeavors.

I might keep the nail varnish but be out and proud with my choice of recreational reading.

Easter Bunny Egg Cozies

You Will Need:
2 Felt Bunny Shapes
Sewing Needle & Thread
1 Bunny Tail Bobble
1 Chocolate Egg to Hide


Lying your egg (I used a Cadbury’s Cream Egg) on it’s side over a piece of paper, draw around it (with your pencil standing straight from the edge rather than where the egg touches the paper). Draw a line 1cm further out from this line. This will be the border for your bunny’s body. You can now draw your bunny’s head & ears (as below) and cut out your paper template. Use this to cut two identical bunny shapes out of felt (you can draw around them or pin the paper directly to the felt to cut around).

bunny #1

  • Place your two bunnies together, if the edges do not match up you can trim the border. Sew out one side of your felt from the centre, so that your knot is hidden in the middle. 

bunny #2                                                   bunny #3

  • From here you can chose a blanket, running or edging stitch 

delightful 010


  • Continue to sew around the entire bunny until you get to the front paws. Sew in between the layers and knot your thread here.

bunny #5

  • Pull the two layers of felt apart and puff out the centre with your fingers. Now you can hide your chocolate egg inside for safe keeping! 

bunny #6                                             bunny #6

  • Place your tubby bunny upright. Nobody will suspect a thing. Add a fluffy tail if you’d like to decorate him.

bunny #8

* The same technique can be used for larger Easter eggs if you want to keep things cozy on a bigger scale.


Happy Crafting Kids!







I have never felt so sorry for myself! Gather ’round, I will tell you my tale of much woe. Sooooooo much woe! Brace yourselves.

So there I was, cycling straight (down a hill so gathering a good bit of pesky speed!) when a big-haired woman in a big stupid silver car pulled out from a little road in front of me. I tried to swerve and break to give myself more time to stop but the thin layer of ice on the road left me skidding and before I knew it I was sprawled indecently across the road like starfish roadkill, face-down, limbs akimbo, right beside her car.


I hadn’t even opened my eyes before three lovely men were shaking my shoulders and picking up my bike, they pulled me up by the arms and walked me off the road while big-haired woman sat in traffic (that’s right -she was in such a rush to pull out onto a main road TO SIT IN TRAFFIC!!!), eyes dead ahead, afraid to look at me. After a minute she drove off and I was busy being fussed over by a little bunch of heroes and fighting back tears I didn’t want to cry in front of them (be a big girl, Jenny).

I spent five minutes assuring them I was absolutely fine, thanking them profusely and getting myself together before I turned away, inspected my stingy wounds and cried (loads!), My bike was jammed somehow and the wheels wouldn’t turn so I limped off across the road to lock it to something, called my boyfriend to cry at him for a little bit and hobbled off towards the DART station feeling mighty sorry for myself. Good thing I’m a trooper.

So here I am now, nursing my injuries and assessing the fallout (real bike damage is yet to be determined, she’s in with the doctors as we speak). I’m compelled to tell you, this process has been quite cathartic and now after making four sobbing phonecalls to loved ones and having written this I am starting to feel a good bit better about my ordeal.

Thanks guys!

Why It’s Written In Joyce’s Heart

Dublin, to my eye, is a beautiful place.

I often walk around this city, down streets I’ve walked at least 100 times before and find something new & amazing. Walking on a boardwalk, over cobbles, through the throngs of shoppers or down the alleys there’s an unmistakable energy. It doesn’t have a name and I’m pretty sure I only felt it when I’d lived somewhere else and come back but it’s made of magic. Sure it can be grumpy and damp at times but this place has quirks, it’s fun and interesting. In fact, it would make a great first date. We should set it up with a cute, fun city we know and see if they hit it off. Preferably one with a vaguely similar climate without a difficult time difference.

Well, Dublin, I see you clicking with Amsterdam. It has canals, you have canals. It likes bikes, you like bikes. You don’t massively dislike tulips. You’d never be stuck for chat.

I’ve actually never been to Amsterdam (though I might have to go soon and inspect this floozy my city’s been seeing).

Admittedly, this took a surreal turn. I just wanted to state my love for this great place. It has character, charm and humour despite its troubles. The segway into dating part of the Netherlands was accidental. Long distance wouldn’t really suit anyway. Your loss Amsterdam.

I can’t help but wonder about Dublin’s online dating profile now though………..