An Open Heart

Tonight we are having one of those nights that would be so wonderfully awesome if we were all completely sober and could take credit for the awesomeness of our drunkenness. For a start, there was the amazingness of our delight in the Sicilianess  and the Anarchism of the houseguests who had to retire early because of early starts which left a company who were composed of two passionate advocates of the importance of an Irish Language Act, two who could not care less and one eighteen year old who enjoyed stirring the pot.

Have to say though that I truly appreciate Bert, reared Ulster Protestant, travelled the world, shook that shit off and opened his heart and his home to absolutely everyone.

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And Still She Wished For Solitude

Earlier this evening in Gillie's Bar

The Attraction of Opposites I am the eldest of seven children. I love peace and solitude. I dislike prolonged periods of having too many people around. Bert is an only child. He's a sociable being. He loves company and a bit of a stir. I like company too but I like it to be mixed in with plenty of quiet time. Too much company sets my teeth on edge. The Perfect Guest We have just left Mikey to the airport for his Edinburgh flight. He has been a lovely houseguest. He is amenable, easy-going, interesting, undemanding and he has the sweetest manners. So this might seem a funny time to be writing about my love of solitude. Rest assured Mikey that this outpouring has nothing at all to do with you. It has been a good weekend. We were quiet on Thursday, we had the buffet supper on Friday and last night we had the Banjo Master class. Which I did not enjoy. I'll return to my feelings about that. Today my sister and I went for a walk while Mikey and Bert went to Gillie's Bar to see Banjo Man and the fellows. Then Bert and I left Mikey to the airport. The Last Straw Now to provide a bit of a back-story. Next weekend is the annual Omagh Bluegrass Festival (stifles yawn) and practically everyone we know goes to it. But this year I'll be working five days from Friday and will not be going. Bert is planning to drive Mrs Banjo and the kids to Omagh. Banjo Man and the fellows, including Ian, are playing in the park and will be travelling separately. The plan was that after driving Mrs Banjo and the young Banjos back they'd stay at our house. It'd be a squeeze because we're a bed down since the last bonfire but it's just for one night so hey ho.... Then on the way back from the airport Bert told me that Mandolin Man is staying too and I have become enraged. Now I do like Mandolin Man a lot. He is a sweet guy. But where's he going to sleep and do I really want three adults and three children staying when all I've got is one spare single bed and two sofas ? Do I want to get up on a work day to a madhouse with people sleeping everywhere and nowhere to chill until it's time to go to work? I don't. I was in a rip last night about this sort of stuff. Because Banjo Man was painting at our new house Ploppy Pants arranged that BM would give a Banjo Master class in our house. Nobody asked me if this was OK. I tried to be fine about it but as the evening progressed I started to feel more and more annoyed about it. I stomped off to bed at 11pm giving out ominous warnings about keeping the noise down. Questions Bert is cross with me because he thinks I am very unsociable. I think he might be scared that I'll drive everyone away and then we'll have no friends. I'm pondering burning the spare bed. Is there a happy medium? Is sobriety affecting me adversely or do I drink to cope with the hordes of people that hang out in Nelly's Garden?