‘I'm not even a bit stressed,' Honor goes, ‘I haven't done a focking tap for these exams'
Sorcha thinks we should maybe check on Honor and there's an air of definite excitement in her voice when she
says
it? Yeah, no, it's the night before the stort of the
Leaving Cert
and my wife is absolutely determined that this should be one of those mother-daughter moments.
She goes, 'The Leaving Cert puts – oh my God –
so
much pressure on young people. But it's not the be-all and end-all. I read an orticle online about all the famous people who failed the Leaving Cert.'
I'm there, '
I
failed the Leaving Cert – in fairness to me.'
She's like, 'I'm talking about people who went on to actually
achieve
things?'
READ MORE
And I'm there, 'Yeah, no, thanks for that, Sorcha.'
'I just remember that – oh my God – my Mom had this amazing, amazing talk with me the night before I storted
mine
? She just said, you know, the importance of exams is, like, totally overblown and that the Leaving Cert shouldn't define you for the rest of your life.'
'That's easy for you to say. Didn't you get, like, maximum points?'
'Well, not
quite
maximum points? I got, like, a B in Honours English, remember?'
How could I forget? Her old man spent years appealing it. I think the case was still trundling through the courts when she was pregnant with Honor.
'Come on,' she goes, 'let's go and talk to her,' and I follow her up the stairs to Honor's room.
Sorcha knocks and she's like, 'Honor, dorling?' then she pushes the door and looks around it like she's sticking her head in a lion's mouth.
Honor isn't studying. That's the first thing I notice. She's sorting through her wardrobe and taking photographs of herself in various outfits with one hand on her hip and her cheeks sucked in.
Sorcha goes, 'We're sorry to bother you, Honor. We were just wondering how the
study
was going?'
I don't know where she's getting this
we
from?
Honor's like, 'It's going great – as you can probably see.'
'Well,' Sorcha goes, 'we just wanted to say that, even though it may seem like it now, the Leaving Certificate is not the be-all and end-all.'
I'm there, 'I'm living proof of that, Honor.'
But Sorcha's like, 'Why don't you leave the talking to me, Ross? What we're trying to say, Honor – and I'm echoing my own mother's words here – is that it doesn't define you as, like, a
person
?'
Honor's there, 'Why do I buy so many clothes in taupe? It looks so focking
meh
on me.'
Sorcha goes, 'The important thing – as
my
mom famously said – is that you turn out a happy, well-adjusted girl with a fully functioning moral compass.'
Honor's like, 'Does this top make my face look washed out? You can tell me.'
[
Honor goes, 'I'm editing the school yearbook photographs of anyone who pissed me off'
Opens in new window
]
'What I'm saying,' Sorcha goes, 'is that our results-focused secondary education system sometimes forgets that schools have a role to play in preparing young people for life and not just exams.'
'I hate all my focking clothes.'
'I was just thinking back to my own Leaving Cert – wasn't I, Ross? At the time, I thought it was the most important thing in the world. But if you were to ask me what did I get in, say, Maths or History now, I'd have to actually rack my brains.'
'Didn't you get As in everything?' Honor goes.
I'm like, 'Except English – and her old man spent eight years in the courts trying get her B upgraded.'
Honor gives her one of her crocodile smiles and goes, 'So much for results not being important. Anyway, for your information, I'm not even a
bit
stressed?'
I'm like, 'Oh, that's good – isn't it, Sorcha?'
And Sorcha's there, 'Er, yeah – I suppose it is.'
'As a matter of fact,' Honor goes, 'I haven't done a focking tap for these exams.'
And I'm like, 'I'm going to say fair focks to you, Honor. I think I speak for both of us when I say you've put our minds at ease. Come on, Sorcha, let's leave her to it.'
But Sorcha's mind
isn't
at ease? Outside on the landing, she goes, 'What do you think she meant when she said she hasn't done a tap?'
I'm there, 'Excuse me?'
'Like, did she mean it in the same way that
I
used to say it? Look, I'm not saying I was a secret studier – which is what all the girls used to say about me – but I was, like, naturally bright and I had an amazing, amazing memory.'
'Again, fair focks.'
[
Honor is staring at Brett like he's an ATM and she's sitting in a JCB, trying to work the levers
Opens in new window
]
'Or was she saying that she hasn't done a tap in the same way that – no offence, Ross –
you
didn't do a tap, as in, like, literally?'
'What does it matter? The important thing is that she's a happy girl with a fully functioning whatever-you-said.'
'Yes, Ross – but within reason.'
'Within reason?'
'I mean, it's also important that she gets into a good college. And into a degree course that's, like, high points.'
'But I thought you said–'
'Never mind what I said. What the fock is she
doing
in there?'
'I think she was questioning some of her 2024 wardrobe choices.'
She goes, 'Did she even have a book open?' and before I can answer no, she bursts into Honor's room again, with no knock this time, and she's like, 'Why aren't you studying?'
Honor goes, 'Excuse me?'
Sorcha's there, 'You have an exam tomorrow! Where are your books? Where are your cog notes?'
[
'That picture The Last Supper is weird. They're all sitting on the same side of the table'
Opens in new window
]
Honor's like, 'I thought you said the Leaving Cert doesn't matter.'
Sorcha goes, 'I didn't mean it
literally
doesn't matter. Oh my God, what happens in the next fortnight is going to shape the rest of your life, Honor! What are you going to do if you don't get into college? Stort an OnlyFans account? Live on the streets? Become a ketamine addict?'
Honor looks her in the eye and goes, 'I have to leave the exam an hour early tomorrow. I have, like, a
nails
appointment?'
Sorcha ends up totally flipping out and I have to put my orm around her shoulder and escort her out of there like my old dear being helped out of the prosecco tent at Bloom.
She's like, 'You might be fine with having a daughter who fails her Leaving Cert, Ross, but I am not.'
Try Our AI Features
Explore what Daily8 AI can do for you:
Comments
No comments yet...
Related Articles
Irish Times
5 hours ago
- Irish Times
Poppies symbolise the fleeting, bittersweet beauty of summer gardens
If ever there was a flower that symbolises the fleeting, bittersweet beauty of the garden in summer, then it's surely the poppy, with its gossamer-thin petals and delicate, slender stems. But do you know your short-lived, sun-loving annual poppy species, including many that are suitable for poorer, free-draining soils, from longer-lived biennial, perennial and shrubby kinds, including some that will only flourish in cool, damp, humus-rich, woodland conditions? If you're lucky, you may have come across the very rare, yellow-horned poppy, Glaucium flavum (a particular favourite of the late British artist and gardener Derek Jarman), a wild biennial or short-lived perennial species sometimes found growing in shingly beaches along sheltered Irish coastlines. Much more common is the annual wild field poppy or corn poppy, Papaver rhoeas, whose vermilion blooms light up road verges and waste ground at this time of year. Each ephemeral flower lasts just three to four days, but then another quickly takes its place, resulting in a long-lasting display over several months. READ MORE For those who dislike red, consider the cultivated forms of this sun-loving, hardy annual, commonly known as the Shirley poppy, which are also available to gardeners, with both double and single flowers in soft shades of pink, apricot, white, peach and sooty purple. An enduring favourite is Papaver rhoeas 'Amazing Grey', famed for its silver-purple blooms. To enjoy it as a cut-flower indoors, simply sear the end of each stem with a lighter or candle or plunge the tips into boiling water for 7-10 seconds before quickly placing them in cold water. [ Slow Flower power is all about the local and the seasonal Opens in new window ] Easily raised from seed in autumn or early spring, the conventional advice is to direct-sow these into the ground where you want the plants to flower. But I've had much greater success with module-raised seedlings transplanted into the garden in very late spring and early summer. Just make sure to do this while they're still small. The annual/short-lived perennial poppy species commonly known as the Californian poppy, Eschscholzia californica, similarly loves a warm, sunny spot. But it usefully combines this with a remarkable ability to thrive in the poorest and stoniest of soils, making it a great choice for drought-prone gardens where it will also often self-seed. Typically known for its flame-orange flowers which appear throughout summer, many new varieties with blooms in shades of peach, pink, coral, cream, buttercup and apricot have been introduced in recent years and are easily raised from seed. Examples include the 'Thai Silk' series, especially 'Thai Silk Apricot Chiffon' with its luminously beautiful, deep apricot flowers. The Californian poppy, Eschscholzia californica, loves a warm, sunny spot By comparison, growing the outlandishly beautiful but famously capricious Icelandic poppy is a challenge for even seasoned gardeners. Best known as Papaver nudicaule, but recently renamed as Oreomecon nudicaulis, this late spring/early summer-flowering species loathes intense heat, preferring cool, bright conditions. Technically a perennial, it's best treated as a biennial raised from seed sowed in late spring and then planted out in autumn to flower the following year. Getting its tiny seeds to successfully germinate and then preventing them from damping-off can be fiendishly difficult, a challenge made more aggravating by the fact that seed of the most desirable strain – the Colibri poppy, originally bred for the cut-flower trade – is also mind-wateringly expensive. Icelandic poppy: Outlandishly beautiful but famously capricious But for those who succeed, the reward is giant poppy flowers in shades of peach, watermelon-pink, gold and brilliant orange, which emerge like tropical butterflies out of giant sculptural flower pods. Equally famous for its disdain of anything other than ideal growing conditions, the exquisite Himalayan poppy (Meconopsis baileyi; M 'Lingholm'; M 'Slieve Donard') is also that rarest of things in nature, which is blue-flowering. To grow it well – indeed, to grow it at all – you must give this summer-flowering perennial a cool, damp but free-draining, humus rich, neutral to slightly acid soil and edge-of-woodland growing conditions where its delicate blooms are protected from harsh winds and strong sunlight. For this reason, it's generally only found growing in parts of the country where rainfall levels are high and summers rarely get too hot. Himalayan blue poppy Only when it's entirely happy will it then self-seed, the caveat here being that you must grow a non-sterile variety for it to do so. Yet such is the glorious sight of it flowering en masse that many gardeners still go to extraordinary lengths to encourage this aristocratic poppy to establish. But nothing could be further from the case when it comes to the opium poppy, Papaver somniferum, a hardy, sun-loving annual species so promiscuous that once introduced, it's likely to self-seed itself about the place with happy abandon. It can even arrive unannounced, its tiny seeds hitching a lift in the soil of a potted plant or brought on the soles of muddy gardening boots. In my own garden, an unnamed variety with shocking-pink, double flowers did just this a few years ago, producing tall, large, violently colourful blooms so entirely out of place that it's as if a flock of noisy flamingos had descended without warning into the cool, damp green of an Irish landscape. Somehow, I just don't have the heart to pull the numerous seedlings out, excusing them on account of the large, long-lasting, ornamental seed-heads that eventually follow. But my favourite will always be the altogether subtler, plum-coloured Papaver 'Lauren's Grape'. Pink opium poppies Other abundantly self-seeding members of the poppy family eminently suitable for an Irish garden include the shade-loving Welsh poppy, Meconopsis cambricum, a late spring to early autumn flowering perennial species with an endearing way of insinuating itself into shady cracks in paving, steps and stone walls. A woodland plant at home in cool, damp, moderately rich but free-draining soils, the pretty flowers come in shades of orange, soft coral and bright yellow. Among the loveliest is the pale apricot-coloured Meconopsis cambricum var. aurantiacum. Also making the list is the oriental poppy, Papaver orientale, a herbaceous perennial species whose large, flouncy flowers are the stuff of cottage garden dreams. Its great failing, however, is the ugly gap left behind after this sun-loving border plant finishes flowering in early summer, a flaw best managed by cutting it back hard and then quickly following with a liquid feed. [ Natural liquid nettle feed is superb for keeping your plants healthy – it just smells terrible Opens in new window ] Last, but not least, is the Californian tree poppy, one of the few shrub-like members of the poppy family, with silver-grey foliage and giant, golden-eyed white flowers that appear on long, lax stems in late summer. This showstopper also has strong Irish connections, with its genus and species names celebrating two Irishmen, the botanist Thomas Coulter and the astronomer Thomas Romney Robinson. Flower of a California tree poppy, Romneya coulteri, whose genus and species names celebrate Irishmen Thomas Coulter and Thomas Romney Robinson Introduced into cultivation in the late 19th century, it first flowered in the National Botanic Gardens in Glasnevin in 1877. Typically requiring a sunny, sheltered spot and famously difficult to establish, it can unfortunately become too much of a good thing when it finally does, often sending out suckers that appear metres away from the parent plant. Still, such is its undeniable charm in full bloom that few gardeners can resist it. This week in the garden Deadhead, deadhead, deadhead … Heavy rain and hail showers in recent weeks have damaged the flowers of many plants. To encourage them to recover and start producing new blooms, use a sharp secateurs or snippers to cut them away, making sure not to accidentally remove any newly emerging flower buds. Mulch around the base of newly planted shrubs and trees to lock in moisture while soils are still wet after heavy rainfall. Suitable materials include fresh grass clippings, home-made compost, well-rotted garden manure and seaweed. Dates for dour diary Tullynally Castle & Gardens Plant Fair – Castlepollard, Co Westmeath. Saturday, June 21st. With stalls by many of the country's leading nurseries. Fruitlawn Garden Open Day – Abbeyleix, Co Laois. Sunday, June 22nd. With plant sales and refreshments. Delgany and District Horticultural Society Rose Show – St Patrick's National School, Greystones, Co Wicklow, Saturday, June 28th. All entries welcome, email by Thursday, June 25th.
Irish Times
6 hours ago
- Irish Times
How yellow rattle can inject new life into Ireland's green spaces
'Gliográn' means 'little rattler' – a clattery, tinkling thing – and it describes well the sound rippling across a field full of yellow rattle in late summer, around August, carried best on a dry day with a light breeze. The soft rattling noise comes from the dried seeds inside their papery bladder-like pods, which shake like tiny maracas. Years ago, a tinkling field told farmers it was time to make hay; they'd listen for the sound as their cue to take out the scythe and start cutting. Finding a large field full of yellow rattle isn't easy these days – it's often considered a weed , especially by farmers on high-yield grassland systems. But just last week I stood in a gently sloping Co Meath field filled with this yellow flower, with clover growing beneath, at the new 552-acre Brú na Bóinne National Park in Dowth, in the Boyne Valley. The park, which the State bought for €11 million in 2023, isn't yet open to the public (it will take a few more years). But the process of turning the high-nutrient grasslands into spaces for nature has already begun, led by the new park manager, Maurice Eakin. Dr Eakin has one goal: to bring life back to these lands. To begin the process, he sowed yellow rattle seeds in parts of the park last November. Often called 'the meadow maker' or 'nature's lawnmower', the yellow rattle is a handsome, striking plant with slender, toothed green leaves and sunlit yellow flowers shaped like snapdragon-style tubular bells clustered at the top of its stem. Above ground, the plant is all charm – a beautiful burst of yellow flowers swaying in the fields, as if butter wouldn't melt. Underground, though, it's quite the vampire and thief. As a seedling, yellow rattle sends out roots that latch on to those of neighbouring plants, especially grasses, and siphon off their water, minerals and nutrients. This parasitic habit weakens the grasses and slows their growth, and it's particularly effective against dominant grass species such as ryegrass. (This is why many farmers understandably dislike it since ryegrass is rich in energy and protein and is fed to livestock.) READ MORE By winning a war against dominant grasses, yellow rattle opens space for less competitive wildflowers to grow, such as oxeye daisy, buttercup, sweet vernal grass and common knapweed. The result is a diverse meadow with flowers that bloom at different times through the spring and summer, offering a steady supply of nectar and pollen for insects and somewhere to shelter and breed. As the wild plant conservation charity Plantlife says, yellow rattle is the 'single most important plant you need when creating a wildflower meadow'. Although it was cold and damp when I stood in the field with Dr Eakin, the hoverflies and bumblebees were out in numbers, landing on the yellow flowers in search of sweet nectar. As they moved from plant to plant, the bees brushed against the flowers' male parts and picked up dustings of fine, powdery pollen, each grain carrying the plant's sperm cells. When the bees visited the next flower, some of that pollen rubbed off on to the female part of the plant, fertilising it and allowing it to produce seeds. Just as the yellow rattle gets up to mischief beneath the soil, some bee species get up to tricks while feeding on its nectar. This sugar-rich liquid is buried deep inside the yellow flower, favouring long-tongued bees such as the garden bee, whose tongue can reach 20mm long. Shorter-tongued bees that arrive on the flower can't reach it, but that doesn't put them off. Instead of entering through the floral opening, they land on the side of the flower where the nectar collects, bite a small hole, and drink their fill. These 'nectar robbers' bypass the flower's reproductive parts, so while they get the sweet stuff, the plant gains nothing in return apart from a dose of its own medicine from one thief to another. [ Butterflies in free fall: 'It's really alarming because it shows that something significant is happening in the wider countryside' Opens in new window ] Dr Eakin says he is delighted with how the yellow rattle transforms the field from ryegrass-dominated grassland into a richer, more diverse meadow. His aim over the next few years is to restore life to this part of Meath, and his use of yellow rattle as a key tool in this process could inspire and guide urban park managers across Ireland. Injecting life into public green spaces – transitioning from mown grass to wildflower meadows – can help reverse insect decline and create healthier, more vibrant spaces for local communities. The impact of urban meadows can be significant. A study published last year by scientists at Warsaw University found that replacing regularly mowed lawns with wildflower meadows in cities leads to a high concentration of pollinating insects, making these urban meadows as valuable as natural meadows in rural areas. The outlook for pollinators in Ireland is bleak. Our butterflies are in free fall. Recent data from the National Biodiversity Data Centre reveals staggering, catastrophic declines in their populations between 2008 and 2021: the meadow brown down 86 per cent, the ringlet down 88 per cent, the green-veined white down 87.2 per cent. Like bumblebees, butterflies are homeless and starving, with little hope of recovery unless we urgently restore wildflowers to our landscape. [ Irish wildflowers: Growing your own mini-meadow isn't always easy but the results are magical Opens in new window ] In this battle, an gliográn – the yellow rattle – could be one of our most loyal and effective allies.
Irish Times
6 hours ago
- Irish Times
Sausage, courgette and rosemary rigatoni
Serves : 2 Course : Dinner Cooking Time : 15 mins Prep Time : 10 mins Ingredients 220g good quality Italian-style sausages 180g rigatoni pasta 1tbs vegetable oil 1tbs chopped rosemary 1 small courgette, sliced into thin ribbons with a peeler 120ml white wine 25g grated parmesan, plus extra for garnish Sea salt and black pepper Juice of half a lemon Remove the outer skin from the sausage and discard, and place the sausage meat in a small bowl. Place a large pot of heavily salted water on the heat and bring to the boil. Add the rigatoni and cook for eight to 10 minutes until just cooked, then strain, keeping some of the pasta water to be used in the sauce. When the rigatoni goes into the pot, place a nonstick pan on a medium-high heat and add the vegetable oil. Add the sausage meat to the pan and use a wooden spoon to break it up and spread it in the pan to cook evenly. Cook on a medium-high heat for four to five minutes, stirring occasionally, until evenly caramelised, then add the rosemary and courgette. Cook for two to three minutes then add the white wine to deglaze the pan. At this point the rigatoni should be just cooked. When the liquid in the pan has reduced by half, add a ladle of the reserved pasta water and bring to a simmer. Add the Parmesan and the strained rigatoni and stir it through until the sauce thickens slightly to a glaze (adding some more pasta water if needed), then remove from the heat and finish with some salt and lemon juice. Spoon on to plates and garnish with some more grated Parmesan and some black pepper.
