Pippin Does Facebook

Hannah's Facebook Tuesday:  for I was so stressed my fingers wouldn't work.

Pippin is missing since this morning. She could be about the Dreen Road, Killyless Road, Granagh Road area. Please let us know if you have seen her as we are worried sick.

The same day, from me.

Pippin (5 months old) has not been seen since early morning. We live on Dreen Road, not far from Killyless Road near Cullybackey. We have been searching all day and are worried that something has happened to her.

That day was one of the most stressful days of our lives. We searched everywhere except where she most likely was - the big hedge on the left side of our lane. The one closest to the road. The one that we allowed a hedge-cutting contractor to cut whilst she was probably lying injured inside it. The one that she sheltered in while stove fitters worked yards from it using grinders and other loud machinery and beside the lane that Clint trundled up for hours bringing cattle for over-wintering in the big shed. It must have been Pippin's most stressful day too and all that with added shock and pain.

Facebook, Wednesday morning.

Pippin turned up 30 minutes ago. She is hurt and is on her way to the vet. Bert and I want to thank everyone for the messages and good wishes. I will update later.

We had convinced ourselves she was gone forever. The previous night I'd gone out with a torch and called her name, hoping I'd hear that faint mew. Early morning rising, checking the doors to see if she'd returned. By nine I was sitting, exactly where I'm sitting now, at this PC and I heard Bert shout, Am I seeing things? Is this her? And I turned (I'd been crying) and he is standing there and Pippin is in his arms. We embraced, and I cried more.

But something was wrong. It was clear she was glad to be in the house, she refused food and collapsed exhausted in her favourite bed. Her legs weren't right. I called the Portglenone vet.

According to the vet everything indicated that Pippin had been hit by a vehicle. The X-rays showed that her pelvis was fractured in two places and the top of her femur was irreparably smashed. Pippin was to be transferred from Portglenone to Cookstown for orthopaedic surgery. We delivered her. It was such a relief to see her again and to see that, despite everything, she was still herself, even if it was her sedated self. Hannah had reminded us to bring her favourite toy and the moment she felt and smelt it she began to purr.

Facebook Wednesday - Pippin is on her way from the Portglenone vet to Cookstown for tomorrow's surgery. She has just been happily reunited with her special grey monkey a gift, (as was Pippin) from Sara and Ben.

Facebook Thursday - Pippin has come through her surgery and we expect to have her home either tomorrow or Saturday. There will be rules. For a start, no picking fights with Fred, and no letting Judy use her as a pillow.

Facebook today - Pippin got home today. Needs to live in a cage for four weeks. She's not too happy about it. Had her first Dreemies today and we've found she is also partial to chopped liver. Helps the medicine go down.

Silly of me but I wasn't expecting the cage. But it makes sense. She needs to heal and she thinks she should still be able to rampage about as before. It is great to have her back home. Every day and in every way she will get better and better. Hannah says she has to live until she is 20 to make up for all this but I'd be happy to take fifteen.

To all our Facebook friends reading this - your support and kind messages meant such a lot.

To all at Parklands, Portglenone, Cookstown and Dungannon. Thank you.

After The Fall

First of all - I am writing this on a laptop, new to me today. It is going to take a while for me to get used to it. 

it's day 7 after the fall I am mending slowly and steadily. Still finding it hard to get around and haven't been off the yard or been anywhere apart from once to the polytunnel (which wrecked me). Watched all of Ozark, season 4, read half of South Riding and did Wordle every day. I've even started a jigsaw.

Jazzer came on Monday and stayed until Wednesday evening and she was a great help, cheered us up, cooked suppers, got the laundry done, helped me change the beds and blitzed the kitchen. I think, if she hadn't been here, Bert would have already filed for divorce. Because I was so cross about being out of action and when I wasn't raging I was sad.

One thing that was a constant source of happiness was Pippin the kitten. 

The first task that I took on after the initial 2 days of being unable to move was giving Pippin her breakfast.

Since then I have managed to do dishes, laundry, my bed and a small bit of hoovering. I have yet to make a meal. Tomorrow I am hoping to make chilli. With Bert's help, of course. 

vitas interruptus

 I had/have so many things I wanted/want to blog about. My beloved only grandson's 7th birthday, the funeral of an old friend, the new kitten, The Bloody Tories, the weather...

Then this happened. For the second time in two days, I walked into a left-open cupboard door ( Bert's cupboard, left open by Bert), only this time I banged my head, lost my balance, and slammed into a tiled floor.  My right hip, knee and elbow took the brunt. The pain was excruciating. I may have sworn.

I got checked out, nothing broken, just heavy bruising and muscle pain. I cannot fully weight-bear, and am not too great at walking. Since today, I'm using crutches to get around.

If it wasn't for the kitten I'd be really depressed.

Ten Years Ago

 Sometimes, when I cannot think of a single thing to blog about, I go to the archives. This one is for Ben - the time he broke my greenhouse.

 

Saturday, June 02, 2012

People In Glass Houses

Bert, like myself, comes from a farming background but farming was never where his heart lay. From an early age, he was drawn to horticulture. His father Johnny would have liked Bert to follow in his footsteps and encouraged him to take an interest in livestock. He gave Bert lambs and calves to rear and when market time came Bert pocketed the profits. He did not reinvest this money in livestock. Instead, he bought a greenhouse and grew salad vegetables in the wintertime and tomatoes in the summer. In time he went to Greenmount College where he studied partying, drinking and horticulture. That greenhouse must have been a good one because it has stood in the same spot for more than 40 years. Now that Bert has 6400 square feet of polytunnel to play with, the greenhouse is all for me to potter around in. Most years I've used it to grow bedding plants but this year I'm growing tomatoes.

We have our godson staying with us this weekend and we get him involved in our projects. This evening he helped me plant leeks and he also mowed the lawn. He loves the lawnmower. I have to admit I had a few concerns about safety and discussed these with Bert who assured me he could come to no harm. I decided to let Bert have his way in this. After all Ben will be thirteen in a couple of weeks. I watched Ben on the mower and I even took a little film of him. He showed a lot of confidence. Maybe too much confidence?

Still from my mini-movie. Does Charlie look a little wary?

Perhaps half an hour passed. Ben announced that he was going out to gather up the grass and said that he just loved mowing the lawn. A little while later I heard a crashing noise but did not take it under my notice as Bert is always making crashing noises. I was just getting myself into the mood for staking my tomato plants when I realised I'd been listening to clinking noises for quite a while. It sounded like someone throwing broken glass around. I went outside. And there was Bert, stoically removing broken glass from my very bent greenhouse. And there was Ben looking white and worried as he collected the glass in the wheelbarrow. He told me straight away what had happened. He'd meant to reverse but had gone forward and the front of the greenhouse had got bashed in.

Afterwards, Bert told me that Ben was very afraid that I'd be mad. I'm glad to say that I wasn't. Instead, I told him that he'd just learned that he'd have to be more careful when using machines and then I got on with staking my tomato plants.

I did tick him off later on for drinking coke whilst on the trampoline.

"Ben," says I. "I'm prepared to forgive you for bending my greenhouse but I draw the line at you spilling disgusting, sticky coke on the trampoline." And that was that.

Accident

 

Workers were installing fibre-optic cable on the other side of the orchard hedge today and Bert went over for a chat with them. Judy, Jess and Ziggy did not get to meet these fellows as they were working beside the road and that is a dangerous place for dogs. In fact, Bert was just saying this to the cable-layers,

It’s a bloody awful road to be working on, is it not?

Then. Crash. Bang.

The fellow looked over at the two vehicles which had just collided. He replied,

Aye. It is.

Both cars were badly damaged but no one seemed to be hurt. The drivers were a young mum on the school run and a care worker out on her rounds.

A few people had stopped to help and there was a lot of phoning going on. Then someone’s dad arrived and it turned out that Bert knew him. They decided that it would be better if the damaged cars were off the road.

And that is how they all ended up in our yard. The two wrecked vehicles, the younger woman’s father, husband, the children’s grandmother and a chap who managed to get the care worker’s car out of the ditch and into the yard. Then there was the care worker’s boss, two of her co-workers and the police.

It was very exciting for the dogs who didn’t know who to make friends with first. The biggest group of folk that they'd seen in over a year. Their new friends were a mixed bunch, from little girls, one with a wobbly tooth, and even a couple of police officers.

So here we are with two bashed up vehicles sitting outside. Luckily it’s a big yard. We’re only glad that it was cars that got wrecked and not people. That wouldn’t make for much of a light-hearted blog post.

Drive safe, folks. You never know the minute...

Blackbird Again

This is Mr Blackbird earlier this evening singing as loud as he could to drown out the Dreen Road traffic. This picture was taken from ground level. He is sitting at the very top of a very tall and dying ash tree.

Four days now since I fell out of the treehouse and there is something to add. Two feet, for the drop was twelve-foot, rather than ten.

Every day I'm a little less sore than I was the day before, and yet...

On Day One I was super-hyped on adrenalin and glad to be aliveness. The pain was almost a joy to me because I had survived the fall with no serious injury.

Day Two was more of the same but with less pain.

On Day Three my left breast was really sore. As always, I went to That Place. Then Bert noticed that there were a lot of butterflies in the garden. Mostly Small Tortoiseshells and a couple of Red Admirals. I grabbed my camera.

I spent a happy half hour taking pictures. And afterwards, the breast pain had completely eased. Not cancer then, just boob whiplash.

Today, Day Four. Just one sore area, somewhere under my left shoulder-blade. It was really annoying, much less bearable than Day One's multiple pains. I succumbed to pain relief even though it was against medical advice.

I have been thinking about the fall and have figured out why I got off so lightly. My legs must have got caught up in the trap door cover so than when I landed on the ground I only impacted my shoulders and upper back. My head, lower back and limbs were entirely unhurt apart from abrasions and a big bruise on my right arm where it caught one of the wooden struts holding up the platform. The strut broke, my arm did not. Zoe said I'm as hard as nails. I hope she's right.

Today I took some pictures of our flycatchers. Himself sitting on the sumach outside my window.

 
Herself sitting on their second clutch of eggs. They are a busy pair.

I might go out now to see if I can catch a glimpse of the long-eared owl babies that are hopping around the big trees at the back of the sheds. That is the second pair of long-eared owls that have nested here this year. One pair in the middle of the wood and another pair nearer the house. The young ones kick up quite a racket after dark.

Blackbird Singing

This is the blackbird which sits every evening in an ash tree and sings his heart out. It's not a good picture and I would dearly love to get a better one. I've tried using a long lens on a tripod and that didn't work for me so do I need a better camera or a better vantage point? Why not see if I can get a better picture from the treehouse?

I haven't been up there for more than a year. Bert was working on it last week, making the stairs safer. Ben stood on the platform to secure the swing. Evie was there too. I took photographs.

I was planning to use the rail to steady the camera and stepped on to the exact spot where Ben is standing in that picture. One foot on, then the second and the floor collapsed and I fell through landing on my back more than 10 feet below. The floor, actually a trapdoor where, when the treehouse was being built, was used to haul up furniture and a pot-bellied stove. The supporting frame had rotted away.

Well! Time seems to slow down when one knows one is going to hit the ground with a big thump. And maybe die. My life did not flash before my eyes but there was enough time in that split second to be hugely concerned about my camera. Which isn't even that great.

I landed. There was gasping and wailing. I wasn't sure if I would be able to get up but eventually, I did. I had a horrible headache. I got on to my knees, so slowly and first thing started looking for the camera. And couldn't find it. Then I pulled myself up and found I could walk. Very slowly.

I made it to the house just as Bert was leaving it. Called him back,

Bert, I've had an accident. I fell out of the treehouse. I can't find my camera. Can you get it for me?

He went off, came back a few minutes later as white as a sheet and holding the camera which hadn't a scratch even though the lens cap was off.

I can't believe you walked away from that!

So, I took some painkillers and after a while went back outside and took a photograph of that bloody blackbird. Still singing, no idea he was nearly the death of me. And then I set up the moth trap and went back in the house, had a wee medicinal whiskey and Bert and I watched an episode of Ozark.

That happened yesterday. I woke up this morning, so sore and stiff but after a couple of painkillers and a coffee, I was able to have a look at the moths. And bagged, for the first time a Light Emerald and a male Ghost. Both beautiful. Though the photographs were crap.

One Day, Two Outings

Bert and I went shopping yesterday, himself for horticultural supplies and myself for light cotton trousers and some summer shoes. But first, we went for breakfast.

Then Bert said, pulling up outside a tool shop.

I'll just go in here for a minute to see what price their drills are.

I was a bit put out as I hadn't brought a book, for like my father before me, I'm quite content to wait anywhere as long as I have something to read. And there wasn't anything in the van, not even a tool catalogue.

Don't be too long will you? It's boiling hot in here even with the windows open.

I'll only be a minute.

A quarter of an hour later he came out no wiser than when he went in.

I said nothing.

We were going to Junction One in Antrim and when we got there we split up. I went to Gap and bought a pair of cotton trousers. I spent a minute in another shop and went to the Nike store and started looking at white trainers. My phone rang. Bert.

Are you nearly finished? I'm parked outside and it's boiling hot.

I'll be ten minutes.

I'd picked a pair and was on my way to pay for them. Five minutes later I was walking towards the van. It was open and he wasn't in it! I waited five minutes and phoned him. Tinkle, tinkle, ting-a-ling - and there was his phone on the dashboard. He really should change his ringtone. It's like something a little elf would choose.

Five minutes later he turned up bearing three cans (three for a pound) of noxious fizzy drinks he'd bought in Poundland.

I said nothing. We went home and I changed into my new trousers. So cool! Temperature-wise anyway. Maybe not Kate Moss cool. Hannah and I decided to take the dogs for a walk and once again piled into the van. We chose to go to Tardree Forest. It was so hot but better under the trees.

We spent an hour walking then returned to the van. I started to drive out. I'd noticed when we arrived that there was a steep gradient on the way down to the parking area and it was very dry and gravelly. I actually had to apply very light pressure to the brakes to prevent sliding. But the only thing I was concerned about on the way out was meeting an oncoming vehicle. That didn't happen but I found it difficult getting out onto the road. I almost made it but then had to reverse as there was oncoming traffic. Then it happened. I hit a deep ridge, stalled and the van started to slide back. And got layered on a dyke. When I got out to look I saw that one of the back wheels was halfway over the dyke. Thankfully I had managed to stop for there was a three-foot drop into the meadow below.  Panic!

Hannah was great. So calm. For someone needed to be. Then all these men appeared and they were wonderful. Calmed the whole situation down, reassured me that it wasn't too bad and eventually managed to get us back on to the road. It took a while too but they were so patient and helpful. Sam and Dave and Dominic. We will never forget you.

Dave

Sam, Hannah and Dominic

And what did Bert think of it all? I phoned him to let him know what was going on. Preparing him for the worst if worse it should be. And what did he say?

Are the dogs alright?

They were. Not one bit worried about the three unfamiliar men who were working with their van. Not even the smallest growl. They knew those decent fellows were there to help.

Field Dressing

So, just as the oul' sore shoulder starts to ease I get a tension backache that starts every evening after supper but I will not complain as my sister is laid up with a very sore face after taking a nasty fall at the weekend. I was on the phone today speaking with her when Martha came in and I knew by the child's face that she wanted to tell me a big story so stalled her by telling her that I was talking to Aunt Gan who wasn't feeling very well and, bless Martha, she sat patiently and waited, even had a little chat to Gan herself.

As soon as our call had ended Martha announced,

Aunt Gan's not the only one of the family who's had an accident. Bert has cut himself on barbed wire and he won't come in from the fields to get it washed so I'll have to bring him a plaster.

I said we were out of plasters so she'd have to bring him a bandage and I put together an emergency pack of bandages, tape, scissors and wipes.

Off she ran, heading for the field where Bert was fencing.

I said,

Don't run. You must never run with scissors. Hasn't there been enough accidents in this family?

About half an hour later Bert and the girls returned. His wrist and hand were heavily bandaged. He told me later that she'd ordered him out of the muck hole he was standing in as it was far too dirty a place for him to have his wrist cleaned and dressed. Not bad going for a seven-year-old.

Stop Thief!

My youngest brother was robbed of a shed load of gardening equipment this week. The most expensive item was his ride-on mower. The thing is, his own lawn is tiny, he mainly uses his gardening tools to maintain our late mother's home.

This is the time of year for garden equipment thefts. I'm informed it is big business. Tools, garden ornaments, patio furniture, barbecue equipment  all make good money when the weather improves and we get back into our outdoor spaces.

I sometimes wonder about these daring daylight robbers who break in to sheds and garages and make off with people's belongings,, I wonder too about the people who buy these ill-gotten goods. Do they ever consider the misery they bring to their victims? I expect they don't. Ride-on mowers and quad bikes are particularly popular with thieves. Which means, of course, that there is a ready pool of punters prepared to buy these items at knock-off prices.

I'll never forget a night, a few years back, when I was driving on the A26 between Antrim and Ballymena. There were blue lights flashing ahead, an accident. As I drew abreast there was a dead bullock, being winched on to a truck. Other cattle lay in the road waiting to be removed, It was a horrible sight. Next day I heard the story. A local farmer, someone I knew, had a quad bike stolen from his property. The thieves, in their rush to escape, had left gates open and cattle being cattle, they strayed on to the dual carriageway at evening rush hour. One vehicle ploughed into them, injuring several of the animals and the car driver. It could have been a lot worse. Just one man in hospital, the injured animals shot by a vet and removed from the scene. And all for a stolen quad bike. I wonder who bought it? For it was bloody - it may only have been cattle but they hurt too.

Pigs Are Rough

It was only the other day that I was hand-feeding that brute the choicest, sweetest dates that our local greengrocery could provide. You'd think he'd show some gratitude, wouldn't you?

This is what Rusty did on my birthday. Bert was making a cake so asked me to take care of his evening chore of feeding and housing the hogs. I agreed and went to their sleeping quarters where I prepared them a supper of pig nuts, cabbage and pineapple. I then went to fetch them. First I turned off the electric fencer. The fencing is behind a length of corrugated roofing tin which is a bit makeshift and not really necessary but Bert thought it would provide an extra deterrent to their breaking out. The tin is supported by a heavy old car wheel rim. Arrangements like that are not how Clint rolls but it is very Berty.

Anyway - I was a bit fingers and thumbs with the fencing cord and couldn't get it detached. The pigs were becoming impatient, especially Rusty. I looked into his wee piggy eyes and did not like what I saw there. He was for coming through and  nothing, not electric fence or sheet of metal was going to stop him. I quickly turned to get out of his way but he charged me. The corrugated tin went flying with me on top of it. I fell to the ground. I'd had enough time to worry about getting cut on the metal or the pig getting injured but neither happened. What did happen was I hurt my shoulder and the pig ran over my arm in his haste to get to his supper. The wheel rim rolled gently down the yard just as Bert came running out. He'd heard the clattering of flying tin, wheel rim and wife. I knew he wanted to laugh but he restrained himself.

Meanwhile Lily was screaming her head off. Unlike Rusty she is mightily afraid of the electric fence and she did not know that it had been switched off. So she must have been thinking that Rusty had beat her to the supper trough and was scoffing her share of the grub. No doubt, with her super piggy senses she could hear him gobbling and smell what little was left of the pineapple.

I have been left with cloven hoof marks on my right arm and my shoulder is a bit stiff but I'll survive. Rusty is forgiven. He was just being a pig. I'll just have to be a bit more careful in future. Pigs are rough.

Charlie Died

Well.

Charlie died. He was killed on the road near to the entrance of our lane. Last night, just before midnight I let all three of our dogs out to pee. Bonnie and Judy usually do their business, mooch around for a few minutes and come to the door to be let in. Charlie does some rounds of the garden and yard and will either come in willingly or he might need to be persuaded. I had gone to bed so Bert was the one doing the persuading. Charlie did not respond so Bert called me and I grumpily got up to try my cajoling magic on him. I shouted, I called, I hoped, I prayed. No Charlie. I took a torch to the bottom of the lane and shone it around. No sign. I decided to take the car out. I'd only turned it out of the lane when I saw him lying at the side of the road. I got out and picked him up. He was limp and light as a feather.

This morning when I carried him from the shed to his grave he felt much more of a burden. I suppose that is what people mean when they speak of a dead weight.

Judging by the amount of blood on the road Charlie did not die where I found him. Someone, most likely the driver of the vehicle that killed him, gathered him up and placed him where no other vehicle would drive over him. I'm grateful for that.

Picture of the Day and Other Matters

Photograph of the day

It is one of my great delights to come across abandoned buildings. Especially fascinating is when the abandoned home is full of the detritus of the lives once lived there. The house I came across yesterday was such a place. I had no camera yesterday so returned today. The people who lived here were interesting folk. They studied, took and developed photographs, made things and painted. They might even have gardened although there was little evidence of it. The garden was so overgrown with nettles and brambles that it was coming into the house but I'm sure the butterflies were very pleased with it.

A fool and his finger are soon parted

This fool I know lacerated his finger on his lawnmower and refused to have medical attention. Surely everyone knows not to poke at the sharp moving parts of a machine while those sharp moving parts are actually in motion. These were my words of sympathy, "Stupid, stupid, stupid!"

He pointed out that at least I wouldn't have to listen to him  playing his clarinet for a day or two. I think I'd rather have the clarinet and an uninjured Bert as not. I'll give him this - he is a stoic. He even finished mowing the lawn and it looks great.

Another worry

 My car is, in the opinion of my mechanic, not worth fixing. Apparently French cars are parcels of merde. It's true! I heard it on Radio 4. Up to three warning lights can be on its dashboard panel at any one time and according to my friend, the mechanic, the diagnostic machine indicates that everything that could be wrong with it, probably is. Or not - as the computer box is full of clothes pegs. I know. I thought that sounded a bit surreal too. The guy that sold it to me assured me that it had only ever belonged to his parents, a respectable couple of retiring age. They had wanted an estate car to transport a big dog around in. I have to say, Bert and I thought it was odd that the front seats had those little burn holes that come from smoking cannabis joints. We didn't think the oldies were the type. But maybe their dog was the same breed as Brian from Family Guy.

The joyous part of the day...

...is still to come. Hannah is visiting and I'm currying some chicken. I haven't decided whether to buy gin or wine. I'll probably get both. It's been a tough day.

The Continent Pup

pup goes visiting, originally uploaded by NellyMoser.

And the good news is Judy Pup doesn't go poop and piss in the house any more. Well, not for a few days now anyway. We are very pleased with her.

The bad news (there's always bad news) is that the fool Clint ran over her sweet little paw with his nasty forklift. No real harm done. It was her back springing paw so she needs a little help on to the bed.

I don't know what Clint needs a forklift for anyway. Bert manages perfectly well without one.

An Accident

I’ve been a little mood-swingy recently. Feeling good because I’ve got good marks in my first exam and my coursework. And feeling bad because I’ve hardly revised. Feeling good because Hannah is going to realise her dream of travelling and low because I’m going to miss her. I already miss Jamie. I’m so tired and now I hear I have to get up at 4:30am tomorrow morning to travel to England. So I was really cranky and out of sorts last night and this morning. Hannah and I set off for work as usual (Hannah’s last day at Nixt! Hoorah!) And as always I was tootling along at my usual 40mph. It is a country road although you wouldn’t think it the way people race down it. A woman, fortyish, in a nippy little orange car overtook me pronto. I noticed a boy in a secondary school uniform sitting in the passenger seat. For some perverse reason I hate being overtaken by women so this annoyed me. Next thing she comes on another vehicle driving behind a tractor and cattle trailer. Hah! I thought. That’ll take the wind out of her sails! But no. The daft blade overtakes the heap on a blind bend! You can imagine how Hannah and I tutted to each other. We drive on. At the Carniny crossroads we come on an accident. Three vehicles, one badly smashed, ambulance pulling away, police everywhere, the road covered in debris. We thought of the orange car. She must have come upon the accident too. Hannah said,

I wonder if that made her think?

Party Time (The Wounded)

Every party has at least one defining moment. At Hannah’s party that moment came when Glen tripped over somebody’s bag, fell against the TV and sliced his cheek open. It must have been the shock (surely not the paltry few ciders he’d drunk) that turned him green and had him swooning like a girl. And so the cry went up,

He’ll need stitches in that!

Is he concussed?

Is he dead?

Who’ll drive him to the hospital?

I will!

Are you phoning an ambulance?

Pardon?

Did somebody hit him?

No!!

Och he’ll be alright. Let’s get him up!

We need bandages! Now!

What?

Where’s the first aid kit?

What?

Can you drive him to the hospital?

Get him up!

Feck! He’s down again. Catch him!

Don’t crowd him!

Sure there’s no need of the hospital. Do you fancy sitting eight hours in Casualty on a Saturday night?

No way!

We need steri-strips. You got steri-strips?

No.

What’s that Glen?

I’m going to no fucking hospital.

Fair enough.

And so we patched his wound up somehow. Jazzer played Nursie and I took photos. Glen said,

I hope you’re not for putting that on the internet.

Sure what odds? Aren’t you moving to Australia?

At the post-party discussions the first question was,

Where were you when Glen went down?

I gather the Kurt Cobain look-alike thought the Pete Doherty look-alike punched Glen to the ground.

I’m told Young Loveheart thought it was a whole lot of fuss about nothing. But then he would.

I hear that when the Pete Doherty look-alike expressed concern about Glen and asked where he was that Ploppy Pants told him we had him hanging by his heels from the banisters because that was the best way to treat a head wound. The Pete Doherty look-alike is supposed to have said, “I don’t think so mate,” and went off to check.

And what of Glen? See for yourself.

The Accidental Joiner

I was hoping that the most eventful happening of the day would have been my boss causing me to suffer bloggus interruptus. It was during my lunch hour but there was no way he could be sure as he wasn't there when the hour started. And I was in the middle of a really good reply to CyberScribe's spooky comment about Cully pubs. How does he know? Where is Greyabbey anyway? Oh Bert's just told me it's in County Down. So the muse deserted me and that's why my eventual reply was so lame Cybe ol' boy. So that's my quota of italicised words used up for this post and from now on I will have to manage without them. On returning home I decided to go and inspect the work going on in the new house. I was especially interested in seeing how the kitchen tiles looked and also wanted to see the flight of stairs leading to the attic floor. Seamus the joiner started on them yesterday and they were pretty much finished. There is a little health & safety type issue at the very top which I wanted to take a look at so I asked Seamus if they were safe to step upon. He gave the go ahead and I had my foot on the bottom step when James the electrician nabbed me with a query about the lights I headed downstairs to the room where Matthew was tiling. Matthew says,

"Where's Bert?" "Down the road. What's up?" "We've a bit of a problem here." "Oh! What's wrong?" "Bert's tin whistle has fallen into this bucket of tile cement."

We were just coming to terms with this disaster when the joiner's apprentice came in. He says,

"Where's Bert?" "Down the road. What's up?" "Seamus has cut himself with the electric saw."

And so he had. Apparently it had stuck and he was trying to dislodge it when it had jumped back and gouged a lump out of his knee. Both Matthew and James were urging me to take him to the local GP surgery. Feck's sake! These lads must think Dr Finlay practises in Cully. I said no for the first thing the local GP would say is, "you'll need to go to casualty with that" so that's what we did. Seamus was very stoical about the whole episode and says he'll be back at work tomorrow. They breed real men in Dunloy. By the way that policeman is still reading my blog. He phoned me yesterday in his professional capacity and before he rang off he said, "Are you still off the drink?"

Khail And The Fox

Last weekend Khail van Niekerk, 19, from South Africa did his very best to avoid hitting a fox whilst driving back from work. The fox survived but the car rolled. Khail did a lot of damage to his left arm and is currently up in Antrim Area Hospital awaiting a transfer to Dundonald for a skin graft. N. So Khail you're experiencing a lot of what Norn Iron has to offer including the NHS. K: I could have done without that experience thank you very much. N. I suppose the food is very good. K. It is the worst food I've ever had in my life. I couldn't eat a bite of it. I'm expecting to lose quite a bit of weight while I'm here. N: But I'm sure you're enjoying all the pretty nurses fussing over you. K: Pretty! You must be joking! They're all ancient old women over 30 and they all waddle about. They're not a bit like nurses are supposed to be. N. You'll be pleased with the Yazoo chocolate milk I brought you. K: Indeed I am not. Next time can you bring me a big J?