ACT I
SCENE: A workplace
PRESENT: Nelly- a cupboard scrubber, Aggie –an observer, Maggie - another observer
Aggie: I don’t know what you’d want to be scrubbing cupboards for on the Sabbath day.
Nelly: I can hardly say to the boss, ‘Sure it was the Sabbath so I left those cupboards for Maisie to do.’
Aggie: But ye shouldn’t be scrubbing cupboards on the Sabbath. Sure that’s not necessary work.
Nelly: Aye but I’m at work. I’m getting paid. It’s a quiet day. I might as well scrub cupboards. What do you think Maggie?
Maggie: Well I’m going to work later.
Nelly: There you are! Maggie’s going to work. She’s going to be selling blouses in the Tower Centre. Is that allowed?
Aggie: Sure that’s OK. Maggie has to work on a Sunday. That’s her job. You shouldn’t be scrubbing cupboards. Ye had six other days to scrub cupboards.
Nelly: But Sunday is a quiet day. Perfect for cupboard scrubbing.
Aggie. Humph! Ye have six other days to scrub cupboards an’ the morrow ye’ll likely be sitting knitting!
ACT II
Scene: Nelly’s home
PRESENT: Pearlie – Bert’s mother, Hannah – Nelly’s daughter, Nelly (Bert is cleaning windows in the background)
Nelly: God Hannah I never saw Bert cleaning windows before in my life!
Hannah: Aye. He’s keen when he starts.
Nelly: I may enjoy it. He’ll hardly clean any again ‘til 2010 at least.
Pearlie: He probably saw that no one else was going to rise and do it – the cratur.
Nelly: Aye you’re right Pearlie. Everybody else was lying about with their feet on the coffee table doing Soduku and crosswords. Is there any food in this house Hannah?
Hannah: Um. Not really. There’s no cheese or bread, nothing for dinner and the coffee’s nearly done.
Nelly: S’pose we may go to the Mace then.
Pearlie: The Mace?
Nelly: Aye. Do you want anything?
Pearlie (affronted): No indeed I do not. The Mace? On a Sunday? Sure ye have six other days to go shopping in. Why do it on a Sunday?
Hannah: Because we’ll starve if we don’t.
POSTSCRIPT
Pearlie was at Church this morning. She goes rarely these days but it was a special Service today to do with the Boy’s and Girl’s Brigades.
Pearlie: Ach it was lovely. There was men there and everything in BB uniforms. If ye’d a went to the Boy’s Brigade instead of them oul Scouts ye might have still been in it and ye might have been a Leader by now.
Bert: I would like to think I’d be a Leader by now if I was in the Boy’s Brigade. I’d look well to still be in the rank and file at 46!
Sunday, October 30, 2005
Saturday, October 29, 2005
The Good, The Bad and the Ugly
But what to do if your hair is balding, ginger or just too damn sissy looking?
Here's your answer. Get yourself a Number 1.
And if those three were dogs I'd call them Bouncer, Basher and Dogger. Can you guess which one is my sweet little baby brother?
Young Man So You Wanna Be Cool?
One of the first steps to achieving 'cool' is to choose a cool hairstyle. Here are some examples. I'll talk you through them so you know what to avoid.
All on the top row are good choices. I'd particularly recommend the 'Ed' (on the left.)
On the second row the 'Reuben' (on the left) would be an acceptable choice. The other two will make you look like a dork.
Third row I'm plumping for the left again. The 'Jack' also known as the 'Matthew Fox'. Mmmmm. Matthew Fox. Double mmmm! Matthew Fox bearing doughnuts.
Fourth row all bad. Be sure to avoid the style on the right, the 'Marc' (surferdude period.)
Bottom row. Only the 'Altar Boy' on the left is acceptable and then only if you are under the age of twelve. The other two? Vile beyond belief. Not even Johnny Depp....
Hope this helps.
Friday, October 28, 2005
It Takes A Worried Man
These are worrying times indeed. What with global warming, Arctic weather and bird flu to look forward to this winter it is hard to know where to turn for advice.
That wise old bird Ganching has some useful things to say about the various types of flus going around and I urge you to read her piece. It could save your sanity if not your life.
But if all that occupies your mind is ‘which hairstyle’ then watch this space.
That wise old bird Ganching has some useful things to say about the various types of flus going around and I urge you to read her piece. It could save your sanity if not your life.
But if all that occupies your mind is ‘which hairstyle’ then watch this space.
Thursday, October 27, 2005
I Ponder Coolness
One of the many things that I love about reading blogs is that it makes me think about things. Because I also love to write a blog it gets me thinking about my take on what’s going on. So thanks once again to Ed who has got me thinking for the past couple of days about the concept of coolness. Of course Ed’s post was about the dastardly fashionableness of environmentalism and green politics but as I prefer to think about more existential topics I concentrated on coolness and what it actually means. Ed reckons that he is uncool because he doesn’t have a fashionable hairstyle, wears plain clothes and doesn’t much like Franz Ferdinand. He also thinks that iPods aren’t that great looking. Now in my opinion that makes him cooler than the average bear because as far as I can see those dopey so called fashionable hairstyles sported by so many young men just make them look like dicks. I won’t even comment on iPods, FF or men’s fashions. For what do I know? I’m 52.
But it didn’t stop me wondering - what is this indefinable cool? I was not convinced that Ed had the answer. So I turned to the Internet and found my answer. So if you are a young man or woman wondering how to achieve coolness you will find the answer in How To Be Cool: An Essay By Logan Whitehurst
And Ed, you will know what to avoid so that you can remain completely individual and untouched by coolness.
But it didn’t stop me wondering - what is this indefinable cool? I was not convinced that Ed had the answer. So I turned to the Internet and found my answer. So if you are a young man or woman wondering how to achieve coolness you will find the answer in How To Be Cool: An Essay By Logan Whitehurst
And Ed, you will know what to avoid so that you can remain completely individual and untouched by coolness.
Matty Misunderstands
Whilst sitting in a cafe in Dawson City today I picked up the Sun newspaper. The front page story was about George Best and I showed this to Matty. We both examined the accompanying picture which showed Bestie looking frail and wan. I said it was a sad thing that he had destroyed two livers with his drinking. Matty continued to peruse the photograph and said, "He's looking well."
Overheard
Overheard on the streets of Ballymena today
Street Drinker 1: Hows about ye mucker!
Street Drinker 2: Long time no see!
Street Drinker 1: I heared ye were murdered!
Street Drinker 2: Naw. I was in Coleraine.
Wednesday, October 26, 2005
Harry de Fluffykitten
This picture is to soothe those of you who were traumatised and sickened by The Toe Pictures.
Fluffy kittens are so much nicer than mangled severed toes. Aren't they?
Fluffy kittens are so much nicer than mangled severed toes. Aren't they?
Not In Front Of The Children
As Sir James Savile would say - hows about that then? Further proof, if needed, that Nelly's Garden is no longer suitable for children or those of a nervous disposition.
Editors note: This post has been amended.
Editors note: This post has been amended.
Tuesday, October 25, 2005
Bare Torsoes and Toes
Three months ago I mentioned that Diana's (Mrs The Wee Manny) toe was in a jar in the fridge after her daughter's mare stood on her foot. And not one comment was received sympathising with Diana on the sad and painful loss of half a toe. Not one. I hope that when you see the pictures you'll have a bit of retrospective compassion for her. Mind you she doesn't really need it for she's quite the Stoic. She'd want to be after two decades with The Wee.
Although I didn't know it at the time it seems that Bert, Hannah and I were engaged in a drinking competition with the Wee Mannys on Saturday night. Bert informed me that they won by an easy bottle even though their team was a man short. I downloaded the photos today and I couldn't even remember taking the ones of the Wee with his shirt off. But then he's always doing that. After The Toe Pictures I must be mindful of my more delicate reader's sensibilities. But if I ever do put the Wee 'shirt off' pictures on Flickr I shall have to tag them 'notgay' or, quoting the Toaster, I could tag them 'ohnomyclothesfelloff!' But that's enough of that. I must remember that children may be reading this and that some of those children may be mine.
Diana, Mrs The Wee Manny gave me her permission to publish The Toe Pictures. She is very pleased with the progress she has made and has nothing but praise for her surgeon. This despite the fact that he did nothing except decide not to amputate and advise her to eat lots of fruit especially pineapples. So I asked her,
Little wonder they won that drinking competition.
Horse stood on my toe? Oh what a bore. I suppose I'll have to go to A&E now. Is it sore you say? Oh hardly at all. Just when it catches on things.
Although I didn't know it at the time it seems that Bert, Hannah and I were engaged in a drinking competition with the Wee Mannys on Saturday night. Bert informed me that they won by an easy bottle even though their team was a man short. I downloaded the photos today and I couldn't even remember taking the ones of the Wee with his shirt off. But then he's always doing that. After The Toe Pictures I must be mindful of my more delicate reader's sensibilities. But if I ever do put the Wee 'shirt off' pictures on Flickr I shall have to tag them 'notgay' or, quoting the Toaster, I could tag them 'ohnomyclothesfelloff!' But that's enough of that. I must remember that children may be reading this and that some of those children may be mine.
Diana, Mrs The Wee Manny gave me her permission to publish The Toe Pictures. She is very pleased with the progress she has made and has nothing but praise for her surgeon. This despite the fact that he did nothing except decide not to amputate and advise her to eat lots of fruit especially pineapples. So I asked her,
"Did you eat lots of fruit like the doctor said?"
"Oh yes. I drank lots of pressed grape juice in the form of white wine."
Little wonder they won that drinking competition.
The Wet Room
From the very first Bert was determined on having a wet room in this house. For those who find the term unfamiliar a wet room is a shower room where the shower itself is not enclosed by cubicle walls. You just stand there and the water goes down a drain in the floor. The floors are slightly sloped to facilitate this. At first I didn’t see the point of it. And Pearlie - well she totally hates the wet room. This room, that was once part of her cosy dry kitchen where she sat every day feeding the Rayburn with turf. And now? Now it’s a nasty tiled and panelled wet room where you take off all your clothes and stand foundered while horrible wet water lashes all over you. Pearlie hates all activities that involve divesting herself of the garments. She even hates having to take her apron off. This is probably one of the reasons why Bert’s an only child.
But it turns out that the wet room is totally amazing. I’ve never experienced a better shower anywhere. Not even in America. Bert was so right to insist upon it.
And now we have found another use for it. That bloody Harry de Cat has gone back to his bad old ways. The brute has pissed on Hannah’s bed. The wet room has turned out to be the perfect place to launder duvets. We have lashings of hot water and splashes don’t matter. Bert enjoyed it so much he said that he might start taking in washing.
And if Harry de Cat keeps up this pissing lark we might start bringing him in with us to share a shower. He’d like that.
But it turns out that the wet room is totally amazing. I’ve never experienced a better shower anywhere. Not even in America. Bert was so right to insist upon it.
And now we have found another use for it. That bloody Harry de Cat has gone back to his bad old ways. The brute has pissed on Hannah’s bed. The wet room has turned out to be the perfect place to launder duvets. We have lashings of hot water and splashes don’t matter. Bert enjoyed it so much he said that he might start taking in washing.
And if Harry de Cat keeps up this pissing lark we might start bringing him in with us to share a shower. He’d like that.
Sunday, October 23, 2005
Off-Duty Blogging
Moving house is one of the most physically exhausting and mentally tiring situations in the world. But then you knew that didn't you? My specialist subject is The Bleeding Obvious.
I love my new house but it made me sick and I'm only just recovering from that. That and the perfidy of British Telecom is my excuse for recent patchy blogging. Although I can't blame BT for not sending my London sis a birthday card.
After tomorrow I've got four days off and I plan to get back to some regular posting. This may well include a brief account of the Drinking Competition between the Mosers and the Wee Mannys.
It may also include an illustrated account of the Siege of Mrs Diana Wee-Manny's chopped off toe. I am going to warn youse in advance that I have obtained some graphic, nay, gross photographs of her toe/toelessness and if anybody would be repulsed/ thrilled to see these please let me know.
I love my new house but it made me sick and I'm only just recovering from that. That and the perfidy of British Telecom is my excuse for recent patchy blogging. Although I can't blame BT for not sending my London sis a birthday card.
After tomorrow I've got four days off and I plan to get back to some regular posting. This may well include a brief account of the Drinking Competition between the Mosers and the Wee Mannys.
It may also include an illustrated account of the Siege of Mrs Diana Wee-Manny's chopped off toe. I am going to warn youse in advance that I have obtained some graphic, nay, gross photographs of her toe/toelessness and if anybody would be repulsed/ thrilled to see these please let me know.
Friday, October 21, 2005
British Telecom Are Incompetent Liars...
After working at our line yesterday the 'engineer' downed tools and bogged off on the dot of 5pm. Could we make calls? Yes Could we receive them? No. Pearlie is getting all our phone calls. That's OK during the day when she comes to the door and scrakes at the top of her feeble old-woman lungs, "Berteeeeee!" but at night when the soaps are turned up megavolume she hears nuttin'.
Phoned BT this morning and they said the 'engineer' would call between 1pm and 6pm. They lied.
But at least I can now blog from the comfort of the utility room which is the only room at present with a telephone connection.
Phoned BT this morning and they said the 'engineer' would call between 1pm and 6pm. They lied.
But at least I can now blog from the comfort of the utility room which is the only room at present with a telephone connection.
Wednesday, October 19, 2005
Roll Me A Jointer
We have waited weeks for British Telecom to find the time to connect the new house to the telephone service. We have waited patiently. Today was that day. Between the hours of 1pm and 6pm. And guess what? They couldn't do it. Something was broken. They need a jointer. Remind me again where we are? Outer Mongolia? The dark side of the Moon? Central Baghdad?
It might be a day or two before I get back here. We don't even have a phone connection in our old abode any more.
It might be a day or two before I get back here. We don't even have a phone connection in our old abode any more.
Jude the Lawless
It’s been a while since I told you one of my true stories. So I thought since this is probably the last post I shall write in this room that it might be good to share with you some tales about a guy I know called Jude Lawless. I call him Jude Lawless because he’s got a few things in common with the similarly named actor. He's got the same initials; he is fair-haired, full of himself, one for the ladies and so on. There’s another little thing he’s got in common with Mr Law but I wouldn’t like to say what that is. .
Now Jude is not from County Antrim. Definitely not. Maybe it’s Armagh, maybe Down but it’s definitely not Antrim. Oh no. So if I should mention in passing a certain Hunt he belongs to it’s definitely not Antrim. OK?
Anyways the normal rules of polite society don’t apply to Jude. He’s a rebel, he’s a renegade and he’s the talk of the country. His parties are legendary. And it says a lot when I tell you that I have never attended one. Bert would not allow it. I have met Jude at parties in other people’s houses and he’s been here a couple of times but going to a party at Jude’s place would be what we Catholics call ‘an occasion of sin.’
Jude’s got a big black stallion he hunts with. I wouldn’t even go in a field with that horse. On hunt mornings Jude says to him, “Well fella, is this the day you’re going to break ol’ Jude’s neck?”
He had the Hunt round for a party one evening. They’re mostly a hard drinking crowd so he thought he’d challenge them a bit. This he did by putting a hefty amount of amphetamine sulphate into the chilli-con-carne. He decided that he’d best not mention it to them. Several members told him afterwards that it was the best party they’d ever been at and that the crack was amazing.
Then there was the barbecue he had one summer. Jude had been having a lot of trouble with a neighbouring farmer who’d let his young ram stray into Jude’s garden on too many occasions. Jude had a word with the farmer but the ram kept straying and Jude was getting really fed up with it. One evening while Jude was entertaining the farmer came round enquiring about the ram as he hadn’t seen it for a couple of days. Jude hadn’t seen it either. Before he left the farmer commented on the delicious smell of roasting meat coming from the barbecue. Jude did not give him an invitation to stay for the barbecued ram.
Now Jude is not from County Antrim. Definitely not. Maybe it’s Armagh, maybe Down but it’s definitely not Antrim. Oh no. So if I should mention in passing a certain Hunt he belongs to it’s definitely not Antrim. OK?
Anyways the normal rules of polite society don’t apply to Jude. He’s a rebel, he’s a renegade and he’s the talk of the country. His parties are legendary. And it says a lot when I tell you that I have never attended one. Bert would not allow it. I have met Jude at parties in other people’s houses and he’s been here a couple of times but going to a party at Jude’s place would be what we Catholics call ‘an occasion of sin.’
Jude’s got a big black stallion he hunts with. I wouldn’t even go in a field with that horse. On hunt mornings Jude says to him, “Well fella, is this the day you’re going to break ol’ Jude’s neck?”
He had the Hunt round for a party one evening. They’re mostly a hard drinking crowd so he thought he’d challenge them a bit. This he did by putting a hefty amount of amphetamine sulphate into the chilli-con-carne. He decided that he’d best not mention it to them. Several members told him afterwards that it was the best party they’d ever been at and that the crack was amazing.
Then there was the barbecue he had one summer. Jude had been having a lot of trouble with a neighbouring farmer who’d let his young ram stray into Jude’s garden on too many occasions. Jude had a word with the farmer but the ram kept straying and Jude was getting really fed up with it. One evening while Jude was entertaining the farmer came round enquiring about the ram as he hadn’t seen it for a couple of days. Jude hadn’t seen it either. Before he left the farmer commented on the delicious smell of roasting meat coming from the barbecue. Jude did not give him an invitation to stay for the barbecued ram.
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