It’s 10. 30pm. My wife, the eldest, and I are huddled in blustery darkness in the front of the car, eating a McDonald's at Exit 8 while the youngest snores in the back. We are having a Whale of a Time.

After the longest summer holidays in recent history, kids are getting ready to don their uniforms again

My father went to London a few times in the 1980s to visit his sister. It was a very 1980s holiday. He went on behalf of the family. But London was far enough. He brought back exotic items.

IT'S still up in the air for the pubs, because of what would be up in the air if they opened. Maybe the the two-tier system will be unified on August 10 and the pub-pubs will be open, along with the foodier places.

Looks like with lockdown we’re back to square 3. Or is it 2 and a half?Once again, walking the pavements will require choreography. Like those elaborate royal courtly dances that you see in costume-drama movies.

Fair play to us. We do like to do our bit. The million downloads of a Covid contact-tracing app is a statement of solidarity in the fight against the virus. Also, it’s clear the Irish will go mad for free stuff. Apps, out of date Mi-Wadi, anything.

We all have our little tricks, to make ourselves feel better when times are glum. I like eating leftovers, testing loose batteries to see once and for all if the fecking things are working or not, and hiding chocolate in the hope I’ll forget I have it.

“Cmere? Are we doing the masks thing or NOT, like? What’s going on?”

I was ready to not enjoy Normal People . I don’t mean not like it or not think it was good. Just not enjoy it. In the same way I find it hard to enjoy most things made in Ireland. It’s partly jealousy.

Brexit told us that the UK history school curriculum seemed to have gaps. That there wasn’t much about the impact of their history on everyone else’s history.