Living under the shadow of a loon!

She's pretty unusual. Our red haired landlady.
Of  indeterminate age with an ethereal quality. Honestly she could be 40 or 80.

Originally from Europe, she is brutally honest and an avid DIY-er. With a plethora of tumble down houses in her portfolio, she oversees her domain with fanatical self-sufficiency. A fully accomplished locksmith she changes and fixes each and every bolt with a utility belt and screwdriver in hand.

Upon moving in she warned us of her 3 cardinal rules=
No smoking inside.
No squirrels inside.
No cooking in the bedrooms.

If we broke any of these rules she would immediately change the locks.."That's it" she announced with a slow and severe nod. I know she was completely sincere and I have a strong feeling there would not have been an opportunity to take our stuff out first.

We'd have been scrambling for a subway vent down on King Street

So as much as I love smokey fried squirrel snacks, I resisted.




Shortly after moving in I got a call from a distressed housemate, informing me that the glass sliding door in the shower has exploded into shards- causing untold scars,both mental and physical.

'Prank!' I assumed (my default position). "Just you wait till you get home...then you'll see!"

 

In fairness it was a lot of glass. Massive chunks of the stuff. We helpfully informed the landlady....
Who in turn came over, took a look at the death trap shower and rather than apologising profusely about the questionable safety standards of our new home, offered in a sarky drawl to show us how to take a bath instead.
"If you can't use the shower properly. you must bathe instead. I will bring my rubber ducky over and show you, OK?"

Not really the resolution we were hoping for. Mildy inappropriate to be hand washing your tenants...
Anyways, in a cloud of mysterious muttering she trooped back down the stairs. Leaving us very unclear as to whether we were actually getting a new shower door!

2 days later I came home from work and there it was a new door installed. (Well new to us, it was clearly from a jumble sale/skip)

Mrs X we'll call her for defamatory reasons. She once demolished an entire house without any trained staff. She was project manager, foreman, head electrician and her team was a bunch of her trusty lodgers. When she costed up hiring a proper demolition squad it was a hefty sum so she cajoled some broke tenants to take their existential studenty angst out on the staircase and walls of a dilapidated house!
Her preferred get up for these activities resembles a well known and loved Italian plumber....

Mrs X also has interior design tucked under her proverbial utility belt....
Her favoured wall covering is so retro it hurts. Hurts in the real,and blinding sense of the word. Tinfoil, reams of it, glued directly onto the wall all around the cooker. It's space age-esque and soooo Kensington chic. She sound be retro fitting London 'dickhead' vintage clothes shops.

In my opinion her greatest skill, although a concern to the local raccoons and wildlife, is her archery.
Proudly displayed in her hall (that reeks strongly of leaking gas as an aside) is a split arrow. She claims this is her own handy work and holds your eye for a second too long as she confirms; "yes I did that I have a very good shot."
Eeekk, won't be coming round late with the rent so!

Ah what can I say, she's a legend!

Snow Fair, it's all gone!

It's official....Winter's over! We made it. Still alive, all twenty appendable digits present and accounted for!

I am actually vaguely sorry to see the back of the ole jack frost season. The snow was lovely. Standing outside one night with huge fluffy snow flakes falling on my face, we realised that back home the lashing sleeting rain is the equivalent of a slap in the face.

Snowflakes however are like tiny little kisses!

....much kinder than bitter Irish rain.
Irish rain says ...'heh heh heh standing at the number 3 bus stop for 40 mins in the cold looks like fun, would you like some freezing sideways rain to enhance your experience of Dublin Bus?"

Canadian Snow says..." Excuse me mam, you look like you are really enjoying this crisp cold winter evening.  Could I offer some special visual effects in the form of softly falling snow?'

 So although it was long and bone-chilling, it really was not that bad. It  was bright and polite and not damp like we're used to.My biggest regret is that we didn't take a photo of Oxford street covered in snow.
For three straight months the girls couldn't open their screen door to the back garden because of the solid snow drift that had built up against the screen door. Not one single pic of this 3 foot fire hazard. Woops bit of an epic fail on the photographic documentation front.

So here we are, and the sun is hanging around flirting with us....
But she is just teasing and just as you're reaching for the suncream and bulmers, she's gone and it's minus 3 all over again!

I went to a baseball game on Sunday and optimistically applied factor 30 for a day baking under the open dome roof..... eh no!
Needn't have wasted 2 squirts of Hawaiian Tropics, that stuff is pricey!

The baseball was....well another North American sports experience ticked off the bucket list!

 

With questionable signs and hats doing the rounds.Should we tell her and the countless others at the game the other possible interpretations of that statement?....

So, Wednesday Malaise has befallen me and the only option is to head around to our local for a pint of barbie! They replaced the beer tap with an old bald barbie doll, so even though they tell us every time I prefer ordering a pint of yer wan!