I am not Spanish, nor do I speak Spanish. Sorry. I’m a Brit (of mixed English, Welsh and a teensy bit of Scottish ancestry) who moved to Ireland with her mother and father at the age of seven. I’m still here.
I’m about 5’2. Both my children are taller than me so I have a permanent crick in my neck from speaking up to people. Brown eyes and hair, and currently ten tattoos. I was born with eczema. I speak hardly any Irish, a bit of French and almost no German, although I understand quite a lot. I live in North Wicklow with my husband, two children, and three rescue dogs in various stages of muddle. Contrary to what my ravenous, furious inner voice tells me, I think most families are a bit like that.
I love quietness, and books, and being by myself; dogs and colours; plants, and textures; wombats; huge mugs of tea; grass under my feet; Doc Marten’s; higgledy-piggledy houses with nooks & crannies; cool Autumn days; Audible; well-stuffed bookcases and armchairs, the scent of verbena; pear cider, roast pork, parsnip anything, and Chinese duck with pancakes; Rob Stears; tattoos; Land Rover Defenders, combats/cargo pants, the colour turquoise and gorgeous fresh lime green; snow, and the sound of rain on the window when I’m reading in bed; Lush’s Karma and Flower’s Barrow; naps on summer days when the curtains billow in a fresh breeze and lawnmowers buzz in the distance; box sets of DVDs that you can’t wait to watch; driving with the music up loud; dreadlocks with beads, and Pacifica’s Mediterranean Fig solid perfume; Cartier’s La Tank Française; Hermès’ Eau de rhubarbe écarlate; Lindt chocolate; unadulterated whisk(e)y; having short hair.
I watch, or have watched The X-Files, The Wire, Sherlock, Dr. Who, Supernatural, Grimm, Hannibal, and Sons of Anarchy obsessively although I didn’t finish SoA and only got to Season 3 of Grimm. I’m horribly in love with Mads Mikkelsen’s version of Hannibal Lecter, and Bryan Fuller’s magic.
I listen to John Mayer, Faithless, Jay-Z, The Rolling Stones, Shawn Colvin, Joni Mitchell, The Weeknd, Sarah Vaughan, Van Morrison, James Brown, Sam Cooke, The Red Hot Chilli Peppers, AC/DC, Halsey, Ed Sheeran, Lauryn Hill, Ellie Goulding, Erykah Badu, The Verve, U2, and The Stone Roses regularly, and lots of other stuff in between. I don’t do classical music, thanks,
I dislike people who mumble, and people who shout when talking on the phone, and open plan offices; The Daily Mail; ‘celebrity’ anythings and ‘reality TV’; smug ignorance; my lack of self-discipline; silver coloured cars; people who don’t understand what indicators are for; random capital letters in writing that do not denote emphasis, merely a lack of knowledge on how they should be used; Maths; fundamentalist anythings; long finger nails and anything bar the barest sliver of nail on toes; Guinness, red wine, vodka; tapered trousers; being told what to do.
My birthday’s in November – I am a Remembrance Day baby. I don’t like my given name, which is Victoria, and although I’m known as Vicky, I don’t much like that either. Since my father died last year, my surname feels like a lie. This leaves me feeling both free and, at the same time, flailing. I would like to start over with a new name. Feel free to leave your suggestions below.
I married my husband in May 2002. We have known each other since we were about sixteen, having gone to the same secondary school. We separated in 2005 after a very dubious three years together. As we had children, we ended up seeing each other most days whether we wanted to or not, and, in January 2012, realised that, actually, there was something there that we weren’t quite done with. In fact, it was something new completely, bred out of a hard-won maturity and the opportunity to actually see one another clearly for the first time in years. It’s working much better second time around. Our son will turn sixteen a couple of days before I turn forty, and our daughter is fourteen.
In January 2010, after five years of singleness, I fell in love with an Irish man. He had a lot on his plate in our time together, and our relationship lasted for about eighteen months before eventually, it closed due to a lack of time, compounded by the difficulties found with inter-generational coupledom, in the summer of 2011, pushed to one side by things that had to be more of a priority. He’s a good man, though, and you will find the initial stages of our togetherness chronicled here where he is called TRM, short for The River Man. I have, rather distressingly, got a bit of a Thing for Engineers. It invariably leads to trouble. Did I mention I have a degree in Theology?
I am incredibly, terribly, awfully lazy and I gave up feeling overly guilty about it many years ago despite the best attempts of my mother. Hence, you may not see this blog updated for long periods of time. It doesn’t mean I’ve given up, it just means I’ve found something else to do for a while – I’ll be back when I’m ready.