Honestly, I have been talking to Copilot too much for life advice. I really have to stop.

So I come back here and talk to myself instead.

Last week, the old decking and the old shed were removed by Wally and his team. Now, the new decking is almost completed. It is the first time I realise I often felt I was sitting in a baby’s cot when I was sitting on the old decking, with handrails on three sides. I can finally see the garden not through the handrails now. We managed to upgrade the conservatory roof last year and the conservatory became my office. We can finally sit in the garden this summer. I am very excited when it’s all sorted.

School holiday is starting. Me and the kids. My daughter is drawn to the humour of Annoying Orange – I am to blame. 6 weeks. I don’t know how to survive this. My head is spinning and I can’t write a straight sentence. I listened to writers talking about putting an interesting together. It is 5pm now. My daughter is having dinner at my in-laws and I am listening to a podcast by Ed Convey talking with Dr Alice Evans about fertility and women controlling their bodies. It is an interesting podcase pairing with thinking about this book Nesting. I was first aware of Ed Convey when his first book came out – Material World, what a fascinating read. And I have become a fan since then. I am thinking of becoming a paid subscriber to his Stuff Matters.

I went to a kids’ birthday party a couple of weekends ago. I must have a vibe that attract free books wherever I go, the birthday girl’s grandma and her sister discussed how good this Irish write Roisin O’Donnell’s debut novel Nesting is, and when I asked to have a look, they insisted I could keep it and pass it on when I am done.

I started reading and was drawn into this family’s dilemma instantly even when I was still in the birthday party.

In my rather short career as a benefit advisor and a caseworker, I have interviewed many women who survived a marriage breakdown and on their own with their children. Forgive me being honest, some of them are utterly beyond my limited understanding but some of them are genuinely out of luck.

You need more luck to be a woman then a man – even more luck to be a wife and a mother – and these are the thing I would not have known 20 years ago. I did not know that.

I grew up in a girl school. I could not understand and appreciate what does that mean by the forces of social-economical circumstances. I didn’t understand biological or historical factors as well. Both my parents worked. My mum worked in a bank. My mother was not allowed to study even she had good grades and she always felt the deprivation of opportunities resulted in her marrying lower than what she deserved. Boys in the family were more favoured and celebrated as they are seen to be the breadwinner. My dad was a taxi driver. My mum used to say things that she wouldn’t be too worried about me as girls got married and would be taken care of, although she went on and on about how her opportunities were taken away because she was born a girl.

My mum sees herself as a victim all her life. I am very careful when it comes to taking sides.

Nesting is a well-written heartbreaking story about the strength of women and companionship. A woman alone in Dublin without family support and too scared to name what she was experiencing as violence. I like the extra mile Ryan went to steal a crow nest to lure the kids home to see the chicks, the pettiness of men. It is unimaginably difficult, leaving the house you call home with your children and to expose yourself to the mercy of fate and the social security system. I did not know anything about marriage and children when I stepped into these milestones in life. I am very lucky. There were plenty of difficult moments, but I never have real issue with C. I also remember those days, just me and Bertie, couldn’t go anyway when I felt I had run out of roads with C.

What I find dissatisfying about this story- not that I could write such a touching book, and I can’t write for toffee we all know that – is how flat a character Ryan-Patrick is. I am touched by Ciara’s all devoting motherly love, as a pregnant woman with two under-fives. Ryan is a manipulating prick and his mum is a c and that’s about it. It is too simple for my experience supporting broken-down families. And Ciara can’t stand up once for herself, indulging this man-child for years, and eventually supporting 3 children with her teacher salary and a bit of housing allowance in Dublin, without having to go back to pricky Ryan for child maintenance, is just too neat. Come’on woman! Letting your man treating you like a doormat! And the financial reality, not Dublin, I don’t even think you can survive on maternity pay as a teacher and UC in Darlington where I am. Maybe I have a soft spot for unlikeable characters.

I like the book and the plot but I don’t at the same time. Maybe I am too spoilt to be a sponge that I can’t comprehend how saintly Ciara had to be. It is often our own weakness that we can’t tolerate with other people (and I had my share of apologising too much a sucking it all up like a sponge too). On the other hand, it is biological and political why women have to put up with this nonsense since history begin. But we will have to go further than Nesting for that kind of analysis. It is a story about stigma and humility, and in our current climate how willingly the narrative is to condemn the nameless and feeble in our society while how much anger many have against the system – however fragile and inadequate they are, they are the only safety net in our society where increasingly less people are able to depend on their families and communities.

Okay, that’s my 5 cents today. Let’s see how we get on with this summer holidays.