There is nothing more satisfying, to my mind, than being able to switch off the alarm clock, roll over in bed and go back to sleep for an hour or two.
On a Monday.
Of course, this is possible on five occasions during the year; on Easter Monday, the first Mondays of May, June and August, and the last Monday in October.
I don't know how or why they came about, but I'm grateful for them.
Especially today, since I appear to be suffering a litle from sunburn and the manic energy of two-and-a-half-year-old twins, one of whom ran me ragged yesterday in St Stephen's Green.
My nephew Reuben (nicknamed "Cannonball" by his grandfather due to his small, stout build and propensity to run at one and wrap his arms around one's knees) had great fun running around the vast open space that comprises the park, and being chased, flown and generally indulged in a way that I only remember from my own childhood.
After the park, we wandered down Grafton Street where, outside what used to be HMV, we watched a band called Keywest perform to a decent-sized crowd.
Cannonball was delighted and danced to the music - I expect to see him on Youtube shortly...
I imagine he will have slept quite soundly last night; I know I did...
