Thursday, June 25, 2009

Ode to a grandson

Almost a week late, but been busy with the thesis, work, life, the universe, everything and all the fish...

Anyway, first of a few posts related to Fionn's first birthday last Saturday, here's his birthday poem from sean-athair Greg:

Fionn's first - June 09

Pictured on your daddy's blog before being one week old,
Celebrated journeys penned in verse,
Video recording of your first attempt to crawl,
Two steps forward one step in reverse.

Giving voice through baby sounds at barely three months old,
Sounds like you were really trying to talk,
How we marvelled at the lengthy stories that you told,
Wondered could we teach you how to walk.

Getting in the swim of things while suited like your dad,
Twelve month anniversary of birth,
Family and friends around you showering you with praise,
Celebrating your first year on Earth.

Monday, June 1, 2009

At swim, two Scanlons

After a hot afternoon spent strolling around the city admiring the tall ships (and not purchasing any of the over-priced tat), what better way to finish the day than a quick dip in the sea?

Those of a nervous disposition may wish to avert their eyes, these photos contain copious amounts of pale man-flesh...







Fionn quickly lost any sense of propriety, and decided that sitting in the waves was the only way to go. He would have been in head first if he had his way :)



Water was lovely, although Greg and I did suit up. It feels very strange to be floating in Dublin Bay, watching the ferries leave the Port, and the Dart passing not 50 metres behind you. Good times, hopefully it'll be a regular feature of our summer!

Tuesday, May 26, 2009

Catholic Church in Ireland

The recent report on the horror and depravity visited on children by the Catholic Church in Ireland has gone some way towards bringing the issue to the public's attention, but personally I feel more needs to be done.

I am not happy that much needed tax monies are being spent by the State (via the Residential Institutions Redress Board), shouldering the brunt of the culpability of the Catholic Church in Ireland. Yes, the State (and especially the Department of Education) have some share of the blame, but the Catholic Church have been shown to have wilfully manipulated the system to maximise their own gains.

I am not happy with the response of any of the leaders of the political parties - where is the outrage, the moral indignation? The pathetic attempts at an apology from the Christian Brothers are a complete insult, both to survivors and to the rest of the Irish people. Where is the response from the Archbishops, where is the response from the Vatican?

I'm not happy to let this issue just die away, briefly discussed in the Dail, then forgotten about in the ugly rush to polling day. I wrote this post to highlight the atrocities committed by the Catholic Church in Ireland, and if anyone reads it and feels the same, I would hope that they would do likewise and spread the word.

P.S. This is one of the most tragic and bravest things I have ever seen, institutional abuse survivor confronts Minister on Q&A.

Saturday, May 9, 2009

Huggin' up the big Munster man

A brief post, more of a vehicle for showing the world what a marvellously handsome son I have than anything else.

By the way, this face in this jersey will make future generations of Leinster players quake in their high-heeled boots...





All of these pics are from our trip home to Clare last weekend, which we spent shuttling between Ennis and Moymore. Good weather (mostly), good food, good times - apart from the minor issue of a certain rugby result, which I don't feel so bad about right now as I just found out that Shannon beat 'tarf :P

Fionn on his new birthday bike:



Fionn keeping the Scanlon g'parents entertained in the cottage:







Fionn with a selection of lady admirers - Sarah, Granny Colette, and Aunt Julie & Granny Jean :







I've loads more photos from these sets, if you want to see more drop me a line in the comments section :)

Sunday, April 26, 2009

A brief update of Fionn

Been a while, first post this month. Shame.

So, some good news regarding Fionn and his allergy. Last Tuesday we went to see Dr. Paul Carson who carried out a skin-prick test to ascertain the severity and range of Fionn's allergies. We had to bring our own melon (apparently they don't test for it very often), which we forgot, so I had to tear up to Tesco in Stillorgan (while the school-run traffic was pouring out of Oatlands) to purchase a fresh cantaloupe. I came back to the clinic to find Fionn stripped to his nappy, tears pouring down his face, and full of distrust of the strange man with the needle :( As it turned out it was worth the (brief) upset: Dr. Carson was able to tell us that based on the severity (or lack thereof) of the reaction to the peanut extract he didn't feel that it was necessary for us to have to carry adrenaline auto-injectors. This comes as a huge relief to us: although it is likely that Fionn would still have to be hospitalised if he comes in contact with a peanut, it will be because he is massively unwell, as opposed to being in a potentially life-threatening situation. It seems a small thing, but we don't have to worry that unknown food might now kill him, which was making weaning the less than fun experience it should be.

We also found out that Fionn has a very mild allergy to eggs (it's almost definitely what's causing the eczema), but apart from that Dr. Carson gave us the all-clear, which meant that on Thursday afternoon Fionn was happily tucking into cod and pasta in a cheese and garlic sauce :) Happy days.

So apart from all the drama surrounding his allergies, Fionn is progressing in leaps and bounds. He moved out into his own room last weekend (following a <sarcasm>great</sarcasm> trip to Ikea), and seems to be settling in quite well. He loves his new mobile (thank you Aunt Róisín): he can only reach it while being held in our arms, and he spends his entire time either trying to pull it down from the ceiling or blowing at it to make the planes spin around :)

He can pull himself up on anything that doesn't move (or even one us if we stop moving for long enough), which means that any items we have left on top of lockers, chairs, side-tables, etc. have been making steady progress away from his reach as he gets taller and taller. We're coming to the realisation that everything within two feet of the floor is now unequivocally his - he has already attempted to eat small wooden blocks, soil, newspaper, Sinéad's wedding ring, dried fennel, my driving licence, and a €50 note:



He's also become so much more aware of what's going on around him: he responds to the word "book" by going over to his box of books and picking out whichever one he wants to have read to him; any time he sees a duck (be it in the park, a book, or his bath) he makes a good attempt at a Donald Duck quack - although he also does this for swans, pigeons and waterhens :) On top of all this, the child is an out-and-out flirt, and a narcissist: check him out here practising his camera face:





I'll get in trouble if I don't put up a nice photo of him after those two beauties, so here he is chilling out with Grandad Greg in Moymore at Easter:



That's all for now, hopefully won't leave it as long again before posting next time, although the dread dissertation looms large. I'll finish on a sad note, my grand-uncle Noel Quinn passed away on Friday. We'll all remember him with great joy and affection: Noel was a wonderful man, and I'll always think of him when I hear someone sing "Old Man River". Thanks for the moments Noel.

Monday, March 30, 2009

All-singing, all-dancing...

Saturday morning, Fionn telling us it's definitely time for breakfast.

Video in two parts, mindful of everyone's bandwidth :)






Thursday, March 26, 2009

You take your car to work

I'm a hopeless romantic when it comes to the sea. I guess it runs in the family: the brother takes epic oceanic photos (here); and the grandfather wrote a book about his love for traditional boats (here). My heartrate goes up and I get mild goosebumps whenever I see a ship entering or especially leaving port - even if it's just the decrepit old rust-bucket that is the MV Celtic Star, which I know is only heading for Liverpool, and carrying nothing more exotic than a bunch of underpaid Romanian sailors.



I feel lucky that my daily commute to the office (whether by DART or the car) takes me past some of the most captivating views Dublin has to offer. From the car on Strand Rd, or the DART south of Sydney Parade, I'm afforded glimpses of sometimes breathtaking scenery, from the hills of Howth to Killiney, and every grain of sand and drop of water in between.

But it's the mystery and potential of the port that really captivates my imagination - it's a border, a point of transition, the place where the controlled chaos of human civilisation meets Nature untamed. Every time I cross the East Link bridge the scene has changed: different ships come and go - the Jeanie Johnston and LÉ Róisín to the West, the Jonathan Swift and Ulysses to the East - and the water has a different look: when I last crossed it on Friday it was fiercely blue, flecked white by the driving wind and sunshine.

It's my favourite view in Dublin, looking down the final few kilometres of the Liffey and seeing the open horizon framed by the docks on each side. I couldn't find any decent photos of it on Flickr, so I'll just have to take a leaf from Paudie's book and go shoot some myself :)

In the meantime, here's a pretty amazing picture of a pretty amazing boat, which was another good reason to appreciate the view from the East Link for a few months there: