Dublin Blog Dinner

Plans!
I've booked my tickets: Rail and Sail on the way in on Monday 19th of April arriving in Dublin round 17h.
I'll fly out again on the Thursday. So I'd like to invite you all for a dinner somewhere in between.
Please vote for Monday Tuesday or Wednesday! (well, if you intend to come that is)
I'm hoping for a simple but nice place where we can talk, so suggestions for your fav EKO cafe are very welcome too, since I've never been to Dublin before.

This weekend was family weekend from my mothers family. Much fun was had in a brightly coloured family-farm.
It was so good to cook for twelve people! If I had been born 200 years ago and would have had all my dream babies, who knows if it would have been anything like that. (DP, if you should ever read this, remember this is my diary, my dreams and fears. Not everything is a plan to make a reality.) Farm was in the middle of nowhere, and much cycling was done. Loved it.
Was a bit awkward cycling next to -- o my, how am I going to tell all my cousins and their partners apart?-- boyfriend-of-no-DE-favourite-cousin. Totally avoided the whole DE question. But it took the shine off a little of seeing my favourite cousin again. I didn't want to share my sadness, wanted to pretend nothing has changed. It seemed to work for everyone else.
Managed to be in a different part of the farmhouse when my brother was telling stories about little nephew. Saturday I'll be off to London for his first birthday. I find it difficult to 'feel like an aunt', just don't know what an aunt should feel like.
If I look back I have one (childless by choice) aunt who is like a second mother to me and lives close by. Four other aunts, gosh how do I say, lovely (in-law?) family members I've always taken for granted? They are just there? Special but not special?
So maybe I shouldn't worry about not feeling very aunty like, being in a different country and all.
My brother mentioned to DP he was happy I'm finally visiting. I'll try to be happy yet another weekend.
And afterwards a British train should rock me for hours, then a ferry can cover my face with salty Irish spray. Hope Dublin will embrace another infertile, will fill me with wonder. And Good Food!