Three Attempts, Two Successes!

I don't know what Irish Meteorologists get paid, but I imagine it is too much.

They are never right.

In any case, their remuneration cannot be tied to their accuracy.

Sunday was supposed to be sunny. It snowed and was overcast.

On the bright side (pun intended) it was pretty warm! At least relatively warm.

Here's the week ahead:

So that was the only failure of the weekend. This morning Johnny went to his first hurling practice.

This was so exciting.

I realized how enormously challenging it is to find some place where you've never been before. In a city. On a bike. With a kid. Who is also on a bike.

But we did it (only one wrong turn because I did NOT take Johnny's advice) that only took us about four blocks out of the way. But we found the "all weather pitch" (which turns out just to be that newfangled turf that doesn't get ruined by rain but is still outside) and were only a few minutes late.

It turns out that the organization (Kilmacud Crokes) is just like Storm Hockey (but for hurling, and not just for kids). That is to say, it is a city-wide organization of hurling teams at all developmental levels. There were about 70 kids there split into little groups, each focused on a particular skill, with dads as coaches, and parents around the pitch watching (and freezing as it started "snowing" -- i.e. little ice pellets that didn't amount to much).

They loaned Johnny a "hurley" (which was drastically too small for him) and a helmet (with the opposite problem.

We were a little concerned because, as with Storm, kids his age have been playing for two years already, but since he's a big kid and has so much experience with hockey, we just decided to go for it.

I chatted with my new best friend (her name is possibly "Emer" but I am not sure) who was there watching her son (Connor) and her daughter who was obviously completely bored and cold (not unlike Storm hockey either where younger siblings are often there against their will). I found out that hockey is really just for girls here (and adult men), that Johnny could also play Gaelic football (which is NOT rugby) with this organization but now that they are older its a pain in the ass to get to the different pitches so they don't bother. Young boys also play rugby and soccer but her son doesn't like to "mix it up" and feels more comfortable with the stick and the helmet.

At the end of the little skills sessions the boys played a short scrimmage.

As far as I can tell by watching (and reviewing the quite simple rules), you try to swat the round bouncy ball into a goal. You can pick it up and swat it (kind of like a baseball bat), and even move with the ball a bit (for a few steps) but this is beyond the 7 and under level. These boys basically played hockey without ice, skates and with different sticks and a bouncy ball.

Johnny did great.

He totally mixed it up with the boys, had a few good "strikes" and a couple of blocks.

The coach came right over and said we needed to get him a stick that fit and that he'd see him tomorrow night at practice. It was awesome.

Plus the dad-coaches are darling (a lot like the Storm Hockey dad coaches). You hear a bunch of "well-done lad"s and even a few "NICELY DONE JOHNNY!"s which was totally heartwarming. I saw one kid trip over a tire and land on his face and the dad-coach lovingly helped him up and teased him a bit "who trips over a tire???"

Very cute. And familiar.

Here are a few pictures (Johnny is the one with the Wild sweatshirt -- dark green, and dark black helmet, bright blue shoes and grey sweats in first two pix): 

Our second success was navigating the DART to Dun Laoghaire (pron: dun leary) for a meal and a movie.

 It was grey but gorgeous. We ate at the Sunshine Cafe and saw a movie.

Very cute. And familiar.