Transhumance

It is about this time of the year when Chris and Aine start thinking about rounding up the kids (good luck when Sophia's turn comes), pack them in the Skoda estate and take them to greener pastures.
Actually not greener. But much warmer. They are about to leave sunny north Dublin for their dreary summer quarters.

They were kind enough to invite Mrs Raheny and I (and the trolls) to a fine brunch of moules, et puis des frites, et du vin de Moselle.

We then went for a quick spin to the Botanical Garden. I have now reached the age (or the body weight) when a quick nap after a fine meal sounds a lot more exciting than a game of retrieve-the-toddler-from-the-path-of-an-oncoming-car or grab-the-toddler-before-he-dives-head-first-into-the-pound.

The bored dudes with the walky-talkies were immediately less bored when they clocked us arriving with 5 highly excitable (and excited) kids and they followed us around dutifully.

Anyway, Christophe, Aine, you need not worry about watering your plants before you leave. Finnzy-Bob and Sophia took great care of that. Several times.

The poxy Irish summer will take care of the remaining 8 weeks...