Friday, March 31, 2006

Life Drawing

Swisser was round here tonight for her tea. We had mashed Irish potato and sweet potato, mange tout, carrots & pork chops with a yummy herby, tomato sauce. For dessert we had rhubarb tart & cream. I made it all myself and 'twas the first proper meal I've cooked in ages. Swisser is great to cook for as she loves her grub (the lucky, skinny tinker) and is always appreciative.

She was on her way back from her life drawing class. Being in a good mood I did not repeat to her what Grayson Perry (love that man) said about life drawing in yesterday's Times. Instead I gave her two of my recent picture finds from Charity shops. Old prints of Dunluce Castle and the Salmon Leap if you must know. She was totally delighted. And offered to do a life drawing of me or Bert. Of course I declined. (After what Grayson Perry said about capturing cellulite? I think not) But I was generous enough to offer Bert as a model. Life-drawing types prefer fat as all that billlowing flesh is so 'challenging' but I believe Bert's bones and angularity would be much more of a challenge. Of course we'd have to get the central heating blowing full blast as the cratur is so coul-rife. (Translation please EvaMary) Then when Swisser was fully engrossed I'd slip over to Pearlie's and invite her over for a cup of tay and to see what we're at. That should raise the eyebrows.

Happy Slapping

This morning on television I spotted this harpy galumphing along. At first glance I thought it was a man but a closer inspection showed it to be the notoriously short-tempered Naomi Campbell in the news again for abusing and attacking an employee.

There she was smirking arrogantly and how I longed to be in a position to give her a good slap. But it'll never happen. And if it ever did she'd kill me so there's no way I'll ever be slapping Naomi. I'd be far too feared. Do you not think her lawyer looks scared too? Imagine what he'll get if he doesn't get her an accquittal.

Ebay Madness

Pair of 1950s cotton barkcloth curtains.
Pale pinky-lilac background with coloured plant-pots.
Unlined. Single header tape. Good clean condition. No holes or stains.
Some gentle fading - more pronounced on the edges.
Each curtain measures Width 33” , Drop 63”.

Sold on Ebay this afternoon for £76 including postage. Somebody must have wanted these curtains really badly.

I gave up on the patchwork quilt with added wolves and moose at under £20. A girl can have too many patchwork quilts. There is a certain somebody not a beagle’s gowl from here should tell me when she wants a vintage quilt so that I’d not be pushing the price up on her.

So now I’m away down to Portglenone now to see if any grannies have been clearing out their kitsch curtains so that I can make my fortune on them. I’d take Pearlie’s swan pictures down as a donation if only she wasn’t prowling about the yard and might see me at it.

“Where are ye going way those pictures?”

“Ah. Only to the charity shop.”

“Ye are not! I love them pictures and Margaret bought me that one way the gold frame. She knew I liked swan pictures but didnae know I already had thon one kept in the good room that nobody iver used so nobody iver seen it to know that I had it.”

“So do you want them back then?”

“Sure where would I pit those in this wee huckster of a place? Can ye not hing them? Ye have plenty of room in there.”

“Um. I don’t really like them.”

“Huh! There’s not a thing wrong way them pictures. Them’s lovely pictures.”

“I suppose I could keep them for another few years then by that time they’ll be all the rage on Ebay and I’ll get a couple of hundred for them.”

“Ebay? What oul nonsense are ye talking now?”

Thursday, March 30, 2006

The Hills of Tollymoor

This post contains swearing. If this offends you please do not read on.

Once in a land far, far away there was a family named Hill who were very full of themselves. This day one of the sons of the family was driving his car along a quiet country road. The car was a big fast one and yer man was driving it a bit too hard. But unfortunately for this reckless fellow there was a motorcycle cop in the vicinity and the next thing he knows he's nabbed.

The policeman went through the motions of booking the speedster who was not one bit pleased at being caught. Says he to the policeman, "D'ye not know who I am? I'm one of the Hills of Tollymoor." To which the policeman is reported to have replied, "I don't give a fuck if ye're one of the Mountains of Mourne, I'm still fer doin' ye!"

The Big House..

The Big House..
Originally uploaded by NellyMoser.
I worked my last two shifts here yesterday and today.

Nearly seven years ago I was the first support worker in this building and now I've worked the very last shift too.

I'm going to miss Spide City.

Tuesday, March 28, 2006


The Notice
Originally uploaded by NellyMoser.
Two months ago I blogged about the closure of this path. I complained to the Council but no action was taken ....

...unless it was someone from the Council who cut a person-sized section out of the ridge fence soon afterwards. But I doubt it.

Anyway the Health & Safety conscious contractors came along and bolted sheets of metal to the ridge fence. But some villainous vandal sliced through this and threw the metal sheets into the river.

The H&S conscious contactors then did what they should have done at the start. They erected a security fence at the end of the walk instead of a third of the way into it. Funnily enough no-one has interfered with this barrier.


Originally uploaded by NellyMoser.
Thank you for the pineapple and thanks for the scones

And Bert says thanks for that other thing. He's forgotten what it was exactly. But thanks anyway.

Clint Cracks The Whip

We must have been the only people in Norn Iron who were unaware of today's strike. Consequently Hannah trotted off for her bus as usual. It wasn’t long before she was phoning me,

“I don’t know what’s going on. The bus hasn’t come and there are no kids waiting at the bus-stop.”

I gathered her up and drove her to Nixt! I’d been up early anyway putting the final touches to the den before Matthew arrived at nine. I reckoned I could get back home to finish it off but ‘twas not to be. Just as I headed out of Ballymena I found myself right behind Matthew who was driving really slowly. Apparently his old van is decrepit and cannot go any faster than 40mph. There were so many cars heading into town that I couldn't get past him so had to follow him all the way to our yard. As we got nearer the house he started to think he was being followed by one of the many ladies who, he claims, stalk him.

By now it was half eight and Bert still wasn’t up. I ate the head of him and as usual he ignored me. I demanded,

“Have you no shame?”

He opened one bleary eye and snuggled further under the duvet.

Meanwhile Matthew and I got on with the floor preparations and eventually Bert got up at around quarter past nine. Then Clint arrived with a power washer and in yard-cleaning mode. He instructed Bert to don waterproof clothing, wellies and to get his arse into gear. Bert did. How does Clint do it? I wish I knew.

With all the men working away it was time for me to collect Matty and go pruck-hunting.

We went to Marie Curie, Help The Aged and Mid-Ulster Animal Shelter Shop in Antrim. We picked up her meds in Boots.

We left documents with her accountant in Ballymena and visited the Salvation Army shop. She was tired then so I took her home.

I returned to Ballymena to bank and visited the Red Cross, Barnardo’s, Oxfam, The Dog’s Trust shop and The Heart Foundation.

I bought in various shops and for approximately 20 quid

  • A skirt
  • A patchwork quilt
  • A duvet cover
  • A needlepoint bag
  • 6 books
  • 4 old framed prints
  • 1 watercolour
  • A china cat (blue & white)

Then it was back home to find Matthew putting the completing touches to the floor and Clint and Bert finishing off the yard with the power washer. I had a bit of a chat with Matthew about his troubled love life. He’s just a guy who can’t say no except when it comes to commitment. He generally has more than one lady on the go and things can get very complicated. I gave him some sound advice and then moved the conversation on to shelving.

At quarter to six I phoned Hannah to find out if she wanted picked up. She declined saying she was getting the train. Five minutes later the phone goes and Hannah’s in frustrated tears of rage,
“Mum! You’re never going to believe this! The trains are on strike!”

Monday, March 27, 2006

Working Hard

Hannah informed me this evening that I'm "too old" for my job. She reckons that I'm of an age where I need my sleep and shouldn't be getting too stressed. She suggests that it would probably be for the best if I went to work in Nixt! and she took over my role in Tinkerton. She's probably right.

Take last night when I did a sleepover. I got off to sleep fairly easily but received a very shocking and rude awakening when the cheap and nasty bed collapsed underneath me. Then when I was putting the bed back together I received a phone call from the main office requesting my assistance in a highly confidential matter involving the PSNI and a mad person. It wasn't easy to get back to sleep after that as I lay fretting, seething and gnashing my few teeth.

But thankfully I was off this morning. Matthew is coming tomorrow to put a floor down in the den so I had a big day's work clearing that room which had become a junk depository. Bert cleared off as soon as he got up and hardly helped at all. I was raging at him. Then I got a phone call from my line manager. She wanted to know if I'd like to do an extra double shift this afternoon and tomorrow. I politely refused on the grounds of (de)pressing domestic duties.

But here I am with everything done (except dismantling the PC) and sitting blogging and drinking Thai whisky. I've even forgiven Bert as he is taking advantage of the clearer evening to dismantle another small portion of the turf shed. Ain't life grand?

Sunday, March 26, 2006

Slemish at Seven

Slemish at Seven
Originally uploaded by NellyMoser.
When Clint looks out of his bedroom window he sees this view.

When I look out of my bedroom window I see a partly demolished turf shed.

Snot fair.

Friday, March 24, 2006

200th Least Viewed Picture

Field Killycowan Road
Originally uploaded by NellyMoser.

Goodbye Scurf Dude!

Scruff is a dude. He wasted no time in letting our dogs know that he was The Man. Once the pecking order was established with Bert and I at the top (depending on who was driving), Hannah second (for services to dog feeding), Scruff next, then Rosie, Paddy (beta or omega male) and last and least Harry de Cat then Scruff was prepared to make some concessions. Look how pleased Paddy is to be allowed to share that special place in front of the fire.

On occasion the Scruff dude was kind enough to allow Harry de Cat a corner of the basket. A very small corner.

But all things come to an end. Tonight Trish came to claim her Scruffy Boy.

I'm going to miss him. But as Bert said, "He's going to a good home."

Bye Scruffalo.

Thursday, March 23, 2006


Originally uploaded by Wyrd.
Bert! What's a honey buzzard?

You don't get them here. They're mostly Southern English. Maybe the odd one passing through but not generally.

So what do you call the ones we have here?



How do you spell Colin? One L or two?

I was only winding you up.


Suppose I'd put that in my blog and made a right fool of myself!

Buzz, Buzz, Buzzard

There are a pair of buzzards are living near us and they can be spotted most days. Today while Hannah and I were driving down the road we saw one swoop down on prey in the corner of a field just beside the road. I was delighted to get such a close view. I said to Hannah,

Wow! We were lucky to see that.

Wasn’t so lucky for whatever it was got caught.

Oh well. That’s nature. Poor you moving to the town. All the wildlife you’ll see there will be mangy cats, scabby pigeons and rats.

Don’t care.

When Katy was little she asked Bert this,

Why do they call them buzzards? Is it because they make a buzzing sound?

If we’d have been decent parents like Mr Bolan we’d have got the bird books out and arranged a visit to the Natural History Museum, stimulated the child’s interest and stuff like that. Instead we laughed our legs off at her, gave her a complex and slagged her about it to this very day. My idea of a fun natural history lesson was telling Hannah all about the savage child eating bears that lived in the (local) woods. May God forgive me for I doubt the weans ever will.

No Bloody Buzzard For Me

So there I was engaged in a bidding war on Ebay for a couple of framed prints of a buzzard and a kestrel respectively. Next thing bloody Ebay stops working. I was incandescent! I didn't get my pictures, which were to be a gift for Bert, and it was the most frustrating thing. On the plus side the two prints did end up selling for a price that must have been very pleasing to the vendor but were a bit expensive for a purchaser. Wellington Gallery would have offered a far better deal I'm sure.

Last night Google, Blogger and the BBC site were all acting the maggot as well. At least Blogger explains. According to their info page one of their machines was shite and they were transferring stuff off it on to another one. So was it a coincidence that all those other places were having problems? Or do I need a new computer? Or maybe a brain transplant?

Tuesday, March 21, 2006

Dublin 1952

The Kerry Sister and Brendan caught the Johnny Cash biopic 'Walk The Line' while they were in Thailand. She said they just wandered in not knowing what to expect. Said the minute she heard the music it brought her right back to that magical night in Dingle when they saw Johnny Cash and June Carter Cash playing live at .... was it the Hillgrove Hotel?

Our Ganching has said that Joaquin Phoenix, playing Johnny Cash, had a look of our da. I think she's right - only our da was far better looking. What do youse think?

Rehoming Hannah

Naturally enough Hannah is not that keen on living in the wilds of Cullybackey under the intolerant and harsh regime that is Nellybert's hame. So, to escape these strictures, she has been searching for a private rental in town. And since today I have been helping her. Dear Lord but these properties are expensive. And then they'd be looking for a squillion pounds of a deposit. But despite all this we are hopeful that this will be the week that she secures a place of her own.

When I first left home I got a flat in Anketell's Hotel in Antrim. This had once been a proper hotel but it had become rundown and was used as apartments. I had a living room, kitchen and two bedrooms. The toilets and bathrooms were shared and were utterly vile. I once went to the toilet during the night and stumbled on a couple making the beast with two backs and was quite overcome with the romance of it all. There was an old man who regularly stood on the stairways displaying his wizened member but I learned to ignore him. The rent was £7 per week for this 'palace of heavenly pleasure' and every Friday I placed a £5 note and two singles in the Complete Works of Shakespeare for the rent collection. Matty and Seamus were not happy about me living there as they considered the place a terrible dive. They were quite right.

I had mad parties every Friday and Saturday night. The young people streamed out of Paddy Smyth's and Bobby Barron's and straight up Anketell's stairs past the wee man, blue in the face, trailing at his johnson for all he was fit. Oul Anketell evicted me for the parties and in time Anketell's was demolished to make way for the shopping centre.

It's not just Hannah's search for a place of her own that reminds me of the awfulness that was Anketell's. The squalour of Tinkerton brings these memories to the fore as well. Oh how I wish I worked in a nice clean hospital. *

*heavy irony

Sunday, March 19, 2006

Tinkerton Blues

I started my new Tinkerton job on Wednesday. So far I find that my heart does not lie to it but that is because I am feeling sad about the demise of my old job and I miss my old colleagues with whom I felt comfortable.

I'm still redding up a bit of overtime in Spide City as there are still caretaking duties to be performed until the end of the month.

Bert planted his onion sets today which caused Pearlie displeasure. She does not approve of unnecessary work on the Sabbath Day. But what could be more necessary than laying down the onion crop?

I did a bit of gardening too behind Pearlie's back. Many years ago I planted a few miniature daffs in the wall at the back of the hostel. This year, for the first time, they were fabulous. This was because there are no residents or resident's bratlings to rip them out. Yes - they did this every bloody year the rotten vandals. So I decided I was having them back. Of course there were no garden tools so I had to dig them up with a dessert spoon. It wasn't easy but I succeeded and I have transplanted them underneath the palm tree. I shall call them my Spide City daffodils.

Your Job Dissatisfaction Level is 57%

Well, you don't have the worst job in the world, but it's not great.
And don't worry, you're not the problem - your company is.
Start looking around for another job, even if you're not totally fed up.
Because in time, you're going to be dying to quit!

Friday, March 17, 2006

Tell It Again Nelly

Hannah and I spent St Patrick’s Day with Matty. We were going to take Paddy with us as a special anniversary treat but he and the bitcher escaped to go foxhunting. Bert said, “Doesn’t he know foxhunting is banned now?” but I told him that Paddy is well aware it’s still legal in Norn Iron.

So we took Matty for a drive around all her old haunts around Cargin and Carlane. She always enjoys a run out around that area and it gets her remembering her childhood years. Nearly every place we passed held a memory for her. But all the stories were the same ones she told me the last time I drove her around that area. Afterwards I told Hannah that I’d be repeating myself like that when I was Matty’s age. Hannah informed me that I was already repeating myself and that she had to listen to me telling the same stories to every person that comes into the house. That would be stories like this one.

Jenny: Ye know yer man has a fortune of money every week out of that Disability Living Allowance?

Me: Sure what’s wrong with him?

Jenny: He has no legs.

Me: No legs! Well the last time I saw him he looked like he had a helluva set of legs on him!

Jenny: Aye he has legs all right. But he applied for the DLA saying he was a chronic alcoholic.

Me: And is he an alcoholic?

Jenny: Not atall but he thought he’d try it anyway. Next thing he heared he had got the DLA because he had no legs.

Me: What did he do?

Jenny: Well he phoned them up saying that he thought they must have made a mistake but they said no it was right enough and that he was entitled to the money.

Me: Good God!

Jenny: There’s probably some poor cratur who has no legs got turned down.

Me: Or maybe yer man wrote on the form that he was always legless?

Anyways I’ve told this story to a whole lot of people and now I’m telling it to you.

Thursday, March 16, 2006

St Paddy's Eve

Let Sleepings Dogs Lie...3
Originally uploaded by NellyMoser.
This time two years ago Paddy was languishing in the Crosskennan Animal Shelter in Antrim. He was thin as a rail and daubed with blue paint. He was not to know that the following day (St Patrick's Day) was the day his life was going to take a turn for the better. That it would be the day he came to live with us in Cully.

I'd like to thank Dee Mac who accompanied me on that trip for it was she who encouraged me to pick him. Dee Mac knows a good dog when she sees one.

Tuesday, March 14, 2006

How Evil Am I?

You Are 46% Evil

You are evil, but you haven't yet mastered the dark side.
Fear not though - you are on your way to world domination.

Found at Tea & Toast. More evil than I

That's No Way To Get Along (Robert Wilkins)

Woke up this morning - I got the menopausal blues so bad.

Cannot decide what has brought that on. It could be that I've spent hours collating and listening to my blues music collection.

Or it could be the Stormy Weather (Ethel Waters) that is making me feel blue.

Maybe I've got the Hound Dog blues (Big Momma Thornton) because Scruff is Going Down South (R.L. Burnside) at the weekend?

Perhaps it's listening to songs like Romance In The Dark (Lil Green) and My Gal's A Jockey (Big Joe Turner) reminding me that The Thrill Is Gone (BB King) and that my libido appears to have vanished.

I do realise that all this bluesy angst is Nobody's Fault But Mine (Blind Willie McTell) and that having the Sobbin' Sister Blues (Clara Smith) is not going to Help Me (Sonny Boy Williamson) one little bit.

So I'll go out Walkin' The Dog (Rufus Thomas) because I've got Ramblin' On My Mind (Robert Johnson) and I'll hope they don't go off on a Fox Chase (Sonny Terry & Brownie McGhee) and then I'll see if that doesn't head off these Crazy Blues (Mamie Smith)

Monday, March 13, 2006

The Wisdom of Banjo Man

The Wisdom of Banjo Man
Originally uploaded by NellyMoser.
There was an oul bluegrah session at the Wile Duh the other night. Marty was in fine form both during and after. It's a little known fact that he is an astute commentator on matters political, cultural and theological.

His take on the death of Slobodan Milosevic was, "See Milosevic is dead. He'll be going to hell for sure."

He argues that Catholics are better musicians than Protestants and claims, "Sure youse ones only have oul dour tunes and ye's have no rhythm. Us taigs have rhythm in our blood. Ye should have heard them weemin bangin' the binlids in Belfast durin' the Troubles. Pure rhythm."

In addition to having rhythm and a fine mind Marty is also in possession of a tolerant life-view and a GSOH. Which is why he didn't mind a bit when the whistle-player with Tourette's Syndrome shouted out 'baldy bastard' every time he walked past him.

Sunday, March 12, 2006

the dog who dances by himself

the dog who dances by himself
Originally uploaded by NellyMoser.
The Kerry Sister and Brendan will be back on Irish soil tomorrow after a long break in SE Asia. I'll say they'll be up for their dogs pretty soon.

We are going to miss Scruff so much. I'm already feeling sad about his return to Dingle.

I don't know what we're going to give him for a leaving present. Zoe has knit Macy a sweater.

Just had a drinkin', walkin', talkin' and singin' weekend with the Banjo clan. But there were few opportunities for bloggin'.

Saturday, March 11, 2006

A Very Sad Story

I was telling Hannah and Bert about this very sad story I'd read in The Sun.

Nelly: This couple they got married the other Saturday. They were both really fat. She was about a size 22 but he must have been about 30 stone but they had their wedding and they were both so happy and you could tell they were both so attractive even though they were really fat - they looked so nice, they were really happy. Been together for seven years. They were soul mates. They went to bed at about 3am. He told her he loved her. She told him she loved him. They went to sleep. She woke up at around 10am and turned to him and he was dead! They hadn't even been married for 24 hours!

Hannah: Awww! That is so sad. It must have been all the excitement.

Bert: It just goes to show....

Nelly: Just goes to show what? That you shouldn't get so fat?

Bert: Just goes to show you shouldn't get married.

Friday, March 10, 2006

Communal Showering

I usually work 24.5 hour shifts with a sleepover period. The sleeping bit is never as good as sleeping at home. So when I get home, no matter how little I've done at work, I'm always tired, maybe a little stressed.

When I got home yesterday I was informed that our dogs were locked into a shed. They'd been out on the tear all morning and were, according to Bert, a 'bit dirty'. When he let them out they were barely recognisable. Just dog-shaped lumps of glaar & muck. Washing them was going to be a filthy job. But what better way to unwind after the hard grind in Spide City than a nice relaxing shower with the dogs? I have to say though that they didn't enjoy it as much as I did.

Wednesday, March 08, 2006

Birthday Tunes

The UK number 1 single on her birthday was:
Three Degrees - When Will I See You Again? (liked this one)

The UK number 1 single on her birthday was:
Rod Stewart - Do Ya Think I'm Sexy? (In a word Rod – No. Not then and not now.)

The UK number 1 single on her birthday was:
Goombay Dance Band - Seven Tears. (I don’t remember this one as I was too busy reclaiming the night and being a mad feminist to pay attention to pop music)

The UK number 1 single on his birthday was: Elvis Presley - A Fool Such As I / I Need Your Love Tonight (indeed he is and indeed I do)

The UK number 1 single on my birthday was: Mantovani - Song from 'The Moulin Rouge'. (which sounds awfully olde worlde)

I found the link at Born To Boogie

Conversations With Pearlie

Nelly: I suppose you've heard I lost my job?

Pearlie: I did. What are ye goin' to do aboot it?

Nelly: I'll have to look for another one.

Pearlie: Ye'll need to. Ye cannae expect Bert tae keep ye sittin' aboot like a lady!

Nelly: Aye you're right there. It would take one of us to be working.


Pearlie (disapprovingly) : Who put that oul collar on the cat?

Nelly: Bert did.

Pearlie: Och well. I suppose it's a good idea. Has it a bell on it?

Nelly: Aye it has.

Pearlie: That'll keep him off the wee birds then.


Nelly: Do you want some dinner?

Pearlie: What is it?

Nelly: A nice bit of chicken.

Pearlie: No. I'll not be atin' chicken until this oul bird flu is by.

Nelly: You can't get bird flu from eating chicken.

Pearlie: Well I'll no be atin' it!

Nelly: Did you go off beef that time the foot and mouth scare was on?

Pearlie: I did.

Nelly: Aye. I was reading in the paper yesterday that it's the same eedjits won't eat chicken now as wouldn't eat beef then.


Pearlie: I'm that sick wae sittin' in that oul cart traipsin all roon the backend o' Slemish before I get hame.

Nelly: Why don't you ask Bert to pick you up from your club on Tuesdays.

Pearlie: Och I couldnae do that. Sure he has enough to do the craytur!

Nelly: Aye. Supppose you're right. He needs as much clarinet practice as he can get.

Tuesday, March 07, 2006

I Need To Get Out More

Maybe it's escapism after the worries I had last week but I've become Ebay-addicted again. I seem to have spent the last 72 hours (when I wasn't working) on a frenzied hunt for curtains and devon ware pottery. What is it about Ebay that makes me think that I really must have a pair of huge curtains with a galloping wild horses print? Why have I suddenly decided that my life is worthless unless I have a collection of souvenir jugs from the south-west of England? If I were a rich woman I'd already be booked in for therapeutic help.

If I win these horse curtains they will probably be the craziest object I've ever bought on Ebay. The current crazy object prize belongs to the huge quilt with appliqued biblical characters.

I really must get out more. Matty needs to lift her pension. I'll take her out and we'll visit some charity shops. Charity shops are full of curtains and pottery....

Sunday, March 05, 2006

What A Week!

What a week this has been. I lose a job, I find a job, two separate persons (a man & a woman) are seeking my (financial) help in realising assests in Africa and now I'm informed that I've won One & A Half Million Euros in a Netherlands Lottery! Wow!

So why do I detect a faint odour of Rat? Am I just too cynical for my own good?

Saturday, March 04, 2006

Slim While You Sleep

fat cat
Originally uploaded by NellyMoser.
I was reading today that researchers are looking into the effect that sleeping has on metabolism and obesity levels and it seems there is some evidence to suggest that the sleep deprived tend to be fatter than those who get a good night's sleep.

And as modern life styles do not encourage healthy sleep patterns this could be one of the reasons why there is an obesity epidemic.

I read this and I looked at Bert, 6 foot tall and as lean as a whippet, a man who normally sleeps from midnight to at least 10am and would also take a wee nap during the day.

Then there is myself - 5'2" long and near as wide. I'm rarely sleeping before midnight and then I'm up with the lark. I get even less sleep when I'm in Spide City. So maybe there is something in it.

But if there is a connection between sleep and fatness it definitely does not apply to cats. Harry de Cat sleeps his life away and he's turning into a big fat fecker. As you can see.

Friday, March 03, 2006

Curtains Schmurtains

Lizzie & Pearlie
Originally uploaded by NellyMoser.
Who needs curtains when you can dress your windows with sweet lil ol' ladies.

If anybody is interested I have several to spare. They are easy to feed. All they need is a wee sup of tay and a bit of soda bread and jam 4-5 times a day.

Some help with corsets may be required on occasion.

The Coalminer's Daughter's Dog

black rosie
Originally uploaded by NellyMoser.
Rosie goes from black & white to solid black after a morning spent trying (unsuccessfully) to dig out foxes.

Bad News Good News

The bad news is I will not be getting any redundancy pay.

The good news is I will not be needing it.

Thursday, March 02, 2006


“Curtains shmurtans. I've been in this house for 14 months now, and the living room, bathroom and kitchen are yet to be considered for curtains. Or lampshades for that matter...”
So sayeth His Edness when I commented on Flickr that my entire house lacks curtains. But I do have lampshades. Upstairs the lampshades were an original feature of the house pre renovation and they’re rather pretty hand-painted glass ones. Downstairs doesn’t need lampshades for it’s all ceiling lights and stuff. I don’t know whether I like them or not but McSquirter said they were the last word. Hannah has written about McSquirter and his quest to get us the perfect picture on RTE. He would not be bate on this and for about three weeks he was here constantly trying this booster and that booster. From late October to the middle of November you’d be pootling around maybe just out of bed and rubbing the sleep out of your eyes and McSquirter would rush past carrying yet another TV-optimal viewing device under his arm. We didn’t actually give him the run of the place but he took it anyway. Which is why I do have a rudimentary curtain on the upstairs bathroom. For some reason (I forget) it was decided that one of the bathroom windows should be clear glass. There was talk of lying in the bath admiring the view. Never mind that the view is of a half-demolished turf shed but it seemed a good idea at the time. Until one morning I’m sitting on the toilet, looking out the window and see McSquirter peering up at me. Well actually I think (I hope) he was focussed on the angle of the arial but it gave me a very bad shock. Before midday the window had heavy lace tack-gunned against its frame. I’m actually a bit surprised that Ed, a city dweller, hasn’t put curtains up in 14 months. Either he leads a blameless life, he’s totally shameless or he’s very unconventional. Even Clint tried a bit of window dressing. Only the other night he said,
“I’m clean pounded.” “What were ye at?” “Wrestling way a set o’ curtains. But they bate me. I was all tangled up in them. I may wait till Sis comes to visit. She knows the workin’ o’ curtains.”
And our RTE picture? Thanks to McSquirter’s determination it’s fine now. Which is as well or we wouldn’t be able to watch Lost and would be waiting forever for Channel 4 to screen it.

Careers Advice

Young Rainey called this afternoon. He was on his way back from a Job Fair in Belfast (he hates that call centre job) and was armed with sheaves of brochures. On hearing that I was soon to be unemployed he started suggesting the sort of jobs I should be going for, “support staff for the Police, Civil Service, banking, IT, start your own kennels with added web cam, flower delivery service…” My head was reeling. What Young Rainey sometimes forgets is that although we’ve both got a 2 and a 5 in our ages my numbers are the other way around from his.

What I do appreciate is his advice on is free music downloads, removing Hannah’s photo-sharing from my PC and how to convert mpegs to whatever I can play on my car stereo. Actually I’ve forgotten that last one so if anyone cares enough?

We then had a really good conversation on being boy-racers and how we’re both so over it.