Being Matty

I picked up Matty this morning and drove her to Slatt where we test drove a wheelchair. Matty was in a bit of a mood. She was being dark and venomous about a pair of her fellow ol’ girls and was imagining scenarios where same ol’ girls might have done and probably said some very nasty things about another ol’ girl because as she sniffily remarked “I know the sort of them and the way they go on,” so I thought to myself somebody has miffed her quite a bit.

She was also in one of her nervous passenger moods. This is when she is constantly anticipating disastrous collisions. I look left, she looks right, and she sees red van and gasps in horror. I look right and see red van and reassure her that I had no plans to drive out before checking right is clear. Or again we are progressing down a country road at 30mph having just pulled out of wheelchair shop. A racing cyclist wearing all appropriate gear including yellow jersey pulls out of a road to the left quite a bit in front of us. She yelps in dismay. I reassure her that cyclist knows he has lots of time to get out and that even if he does collide with us the damage done to the Fiesta would be minimal.  We’d probably survive it.

Despite her moods and her ultra-nervousness we make it home intact. We survived it.

Later I drive Bert to Articlave to pick up a cast iron radiator. We play Being Matty to pass the time. Playing Being Matty involves giving exaggerated gasps of horror whenever you see another vehicle that might collide with you if the driver was struck by a meteor, suffered a heart attack, was suicidal, drunk, a chimpanzee etc. It’s a lot of fun.

Later again I delivered Zoë’s birthday presents and went for a walk. Still later again I received a phone call from my nephew Emmet who had just got off the Dublin train and was standing outside the Europa Hotel. I gathered him up and delivered him to Matty. Then I went home and wrote my blog.