Chandelieria

It is not the season for chandeliers. It is spring. But when we went to Ikea today, oh yes, to get Oisin a lamp shade for his bedroom, something which we have been putting off now for at least three months, we came away with two chandelarias - or chandeliers.

It began as a joke. I pointing to unlikely options, and Oisin going, no MOM! Then i pointed to this square cut affair and he went, Oh yeah! C'mon, Oisin, i said back. You're joking. No mom, i'd love one for my room. It's so beautiful. Oisin, you can't have a chandelier in your bedroom. Why not mom? For one it's too expensive. Then i looked at the price tag. It was £8. Bless Ikea's cut glass heart.

So it wasn't too expensive.

Mom, please. Oisin, Daddy won't like it. But mom, it's my room. He's going to just get used to it.

Mom.

Please.

We didn't just get one chandelier, but two. One for the dining and one for his room. They aren't really chandeliers. I don't know, can you call moulded glass chandeliers. The glass doesn't do anything. It doesn't scatter the light into rainbow splinters the way real chandeliers do. Crystal chandeliers. I remember staring at the $10,000 affair that Auntie Agnes had installed in her living room for hours on end, marvelling at the way each bead had trapped and dispelled the sun in its cold heart. Her chandeliers were not silver coloured, but gold. And man were they bling.

But it was the decade of the original bling. The late seventies and early eighties. The start of conspicuous consumption en masse. Rolex watches implanted with diamonds, Rolls Royces, yatchs and jet setting. The junk bonding, jet setting society - the Bonfire of our Vanities.

It was all small potatoes compared to what we have now, but it was the start. I watched Pretty Woman a couple of nights ago. Julia Roberts and Richard Gere. A decade on and he was some kind of venture capitalist. His hotel room was the height of tackiness and her outfits, despite being Cerruti 1881, screamed slag wag. Which is what she was. All looks and no brains. Posing and acting were all rolled into one. It was the triumph of style over substance.

I'm not sure if i like these glass chandelierias, but you know what, Oisin adores them and who am i to deny him this pleasure. So i tell him they are so gorgeous.

Today was so beautiful as well. The first warm beautiful day of the year. We took our breakfast leisurely and then sent Ghin to school. He cried, of course. Cried and made me feel awful. But we had stuff to do and we needed to have him in. Also i promised myself that he would get used to going to school and not expecting to go to a cafe. As we drove to school, he said, cafe closed, cafe closed. I felt so awful. But i did promise myself that we would get him early.

Then off we went to Holywood. It was like i fix for me. I needed to get sweet almond oil, some lavender, soap and good shampoo for the kids. I did not have my gloves on and a light cardigan. Spring was everywhere. Birds were pairing off and the dwarf irises and crocuses were peaking through the grass. Our first daffodill blossomed in our garden and we had a couple of snowdrops. Oh Oisin, i exclaimed, isn't this an amazing day! It's so beautiful. I'm so glad i'm on leave.

We had biscuits and coffee after Heidi's and then we went to John's farm to order our veg. There we saw the chap from the Christian Community working on the garden and i made an appointment to call in with him.

After that we crossed the Ards Peninsula to get to Newtownards...the Craigantlet hills were covered in sunlight and a sweet gentle breeze. Lambs skipped about tractors were out. Life seemed to have returned after the horrible horrible last week we had of winter. I couldn't believe it. Last week we were covered in snow. Today it was all gone.

I must start washing the dishes and tidying the study now. Everything seems possible. I also did our finances and that seemed extremely possible too. OK, i must get things going here as well. I have an early appointment with the Co-op bank. I did it to force myself to look at the money situation.

Gotta go.