Oh I do hope that no one from the USPCA reads this blog. There have been two instances of cruelty to animals at Nelly's Garden today - three if you count what the cat did.
I decided to walk into Cully this morning to collect my Tory rag. I strapped myself into my music listening apparatus, slotted in some Classical Favourites, slipped a fiver into my sturdy bra and went in search of a dog. Paddy was my dog of choice as I'd taken Rosie the last time. But it wasn't even 9am and he was still in bed. I trailed him out of it, hooked him to a lead and then had to drag him down our scarey back lane. It's so overgrown now that the postman won't even drive up it and he doesn't give a hoot about his wee red van. So that was the first instance of cruelty to animals.
On the way back there was a torrential downpour. Ironically enough it started just as 'Air on a G String' started on my player. That made me smile. Getting soaked but I didn't care for all I needed was my music and a metaphorical Hamlet cigar. The rain made me smile but my poor abused dog hated it. I wonder if he'd known there was going to be a big plout and that's why he'd been reluctant to go in the first place?
The second instance of animal cruelty was two-fold. It was very cruel of Harry de Cat to kill all the little wren babies in the polytunnel. It was also very cruel of Bert to kick Harry's arse. But also strangely satisfying. Bert said, "After I guarded them diligently too." I don't think he was pleased when I pointed out that he wasn't very diligent last night when he fell to the Bushmills and forgot to ensure that the wren-murdering bastard was indoors.
Wednesday, July 06, 2005
10000 Steps
I wonder if it's better to be one of those people who, when stressed, loses the appetite and gets super skinny? Probably not. You see when I feel stressed I eat comfort food.
The only time I ever lost weight through stress was when the Pretty Welsh Boy dumped me for the Hard-Faced Ticket and that was 29 years ago. You should have seen the size of the jeans I was able to get into then. But it didn't last - I bounced back, found a Pretty French Boy and had to give those skinny jeans to a slimmer sister.
But I digress. Recently I've been eating lots of comfort food but now I'm happy to say that this is the fourteenth day that I've been eating healthy food - Gillian McKeith would be pleased with my output and I'm walking at least 10000 steps a day. I've been walking on roads just a mile or so from home that I've never walked before. I even walked to Ghillies yesterday and did the shopping on the way back. And I'm sleeping better.
All those super skinny people? Hard-faced tickets the lot of them. I'm going to go for the roundy, rosy healthy look.
The only time I ever lost weight through stress was when the Pretty Welsh Boy dumped me for the Hard-Faced Ticket and that was 29 years ago. You should have seen the size of the jeans I was able to get into then. But it didn't last - I bounced back, found a Pretty French Boy and had to give those skinny jeans to a slimmer sister.
But I digress. Recently I've been eating lots of comfort food but now I'm happy to say that this is the fourteenth day that I've been eating healthy food - Gillian McKeith would be pleased with my output and I'm walking at least 10000 steps a day. I've been walking on roads just a mile or so from home that I've never walked before. I even walked to Ghillies yesterday and did the shopping on the way back. And I'm sleeping better.
All those super skinny people? Hard-faced tickets the lot of them. I'm going to go for the roundy, rosy healthy look.
Tuesday, July 05, 2005
Dinosaur Day Out
We were going to go for a walk but it was too wet so Jazzer, Ben and I set off for Belfast to look for a shop that supplied linoleum. But we couldn't find it so went to the Ulster Museum instead. Ben's got a bit of a thing going with dinosaurs.
We spotted lots of newly fledged and robed QUB graduates wandering around with their proud families and that was very lovely. I felt proud of them too and I didn't even know them.
When I'm out with Ben I practice my grandmothering skills. I reckon I'll be very good at it by the time I get some of my own. I'm working on a mixture of fond indulgence and old-fashioned strictness. For instance I don't let him interrupt adult conversations but I always get back to him.
He was an awful prat in the Museum shop. Couldn't make up his mind which dinosaur he wanted.
I told him that all the food in McDonald's is chewed and spat out by other people before we get to eat it. I think he might have believed me but then again he knows I'm a terible liar. But at least we got out of going there. You know that magic word that children are always forgetting? I've got an even better one. Don't say it always but often enough to keep them from being spoiled brats. It starts with N and ends with O and it spells NO!
We spotted lots of newly fledged and robed QUB graduates wandering around with their proud families and that was very lovely. I felt proud of them too and I didn't even know them.
When I'm out with Ben I practice my grandmothering skills. I reckon I'll be very good at it by the time I get some of my own. I'm working on a mixture of fond indulgence and old-fashioned strictness. For instance I don't let him interrupt adult conversations but I always get back to him.
He was an awful prat in the Museum shop. Couldn't make up his mind which dinosaur he wanted.
I told him that all the food in McDonald's is chewed and spat out by other people before we get to eat it. I think he might have believed me but then again he knows I'm a terible liar. But at least we got out of going there. You know that magic word that children are always forgetting? I've got an even better one. Don't say it always but often enough to keep them from being spoiled brats. It starts with N and ends with O and it spells NO!
Reclaiming the Kitchen
Flipping Heck! I've just realised that I've got a lot of stuff to do. We've been saying for ages that we'll move into the new house in August and although lots of things have been chosen, less has been ordered and none has been fitted.
Bert and I went to measure floors for tiles and so on. Now that the concrete floors are down and the walls are plastered the house looks scarily big. I've decided I'm not sure about the floor tiles, which are a neutral sandy colour, as there is going to be such a big expanse of them.
I'd like to put linoleum in the bedrooms. Linoleum? Well it's clean, dog hair resistant, healthy and natural. It's also bloody expensive and hard to source. I've been in a few shops in Ballymena and have been looked at askance. One wee skitter started to tell me about this modern stuff called vinyl. Pah! They'll all be wanting lino in a couple of years time.
Then Bert starts messing around with decisions we made years ago. In the kitchen/dining room there is a fireplace. We decided a long time ago to put a little stove in there. I didn't want any kind of fireplace in my kitchen but Bert did. I certainly did not want an open fire, as they attract men, so we compromised on a stove.
Let me explain. All the time I've lived in this house the kitchen has been a room for living in as well. It's where the phone, fax and filing cabinet are kept. So Bert uses it as an office and entertains his mates in it from morning to night. Little wonder I hardly ever get it mopped. So in the new house Bert wants a sun room so he gets a sun room. It's not one of those silly looking things with a pointy ceiling that is stuck on to the side, it looks like part of the house - and it is. And it's there that Bert is going to keep his sofas, his phone, fax and filing cabinet and his hordes of long legged friends. He will also have his own little stove to keep him from hanging around mine. See I've got it all planned out. Years of feminism are ending up with Nelly reclaiming the kitchen!
So despite the decision taken a year ago he said, "What shall we do with this kitchen fireplace? Shall we have an open fire?" No Bert we shall not. Definitely not. No way. Imagine all the men standing in front of it toasting their arses. Isn't going to happen.
Then as if one nutty mama wasn't enough we've got Pearlie saying "I dinny like that house, I dinny like that oul Ballintoy dash ye's have on it. It makes my skin crawl." Even better that, than Matty's refusal to cut into an orange because the thought of it being bitter sets her teeth on edge. I wonder if I'll be mad and irrational when I'm seventy something? Probably. I'm more than halfway there already.
Sunday, July 03, 2005
The Tables Turned
I spend a fair bit of my time sailing Matty around the country and recently I've been coming to the conclusion that hanging out with the very old is a lot like hanging out with the very young.
Here's some of the stuff I used to have to do for Zoe, Katy and Hannah when they were little ones.
Now take that last point. Last Wednesday I visited a plumbing supplies shop in Kilrea and Matty came too. Now when the shopowner realised that I needed a lot of stuff for the new house he went into selling overdrive. After about two minutes I got awfully bored as he was speaking Plumberese and I don't understand Plumberese except for the odd word like pipe or tap. Now normally I'm awfully good at cutting these conversations short, usually by being very blunt. On this occasion I put it to him that I didn't understand a word he was talking about and that I was just here to look at the pretty baths and basins and that Bert would be along shortly to talk technical talk with him. But because I was also keeping an eye out for Matty I couldn't concentrate properly on getting away. Meanwhile Matty was becoming very restless indeed. Just like a toddler who hates this boring shop and wants to go somewhere more interesting instead. She was at her usual tricks. Wandering around aimlessly whilst sighing heavily, looking as if she might collapse if somebody didn't come and take her to a charity shop this minute and I swear I think I saw her, out of the corner of my eye, kicking one of the baths.
Here's some of the stuff I used to have to do for Zoe, Katy and Hannah when they were little ones.
- Hold on to them in town for fear they might run into the traffic.
- Monitor their unsuitable conversations with complete strangers.
- Encourage them to eat nourishing food.
- Leave them at home if I was going to do some serious shopping.
Now take that last point. Last Wednesday I visited a plumbing supplies shop in Kilrea and Matty came too. Now when the shopowner realised that I needed a lot of stuff for the new house he went into selling overdrive. After about two minutes I got awfully bored as he was speaking Plumberese and I don't understand Plumberese except for the odd word like pipe or tap. Now normally I'm awfully good at cutting these conversations short, usually by being very blunt. On this occasion I put it to him that I didn't understand a word he was talking about and that I was just here to look at the pretty baths and basins and that Bert would be along shortly to talk technical talk with him. But because I was also keeping an eye out for Matty I couldn't concentrate properly on getting away. Meanwhile Matty was becoming very restless indeed. Just like a toddler who hates this boring shop and wants to go somewhere more interesting instead. She was at her usual tricks. Wandering around aimlessly whilst sighing heavily, looking as if she might collapse if somebody didn't come and take her to a charity shop this minute and I swear I think I saw her, out of the corner of my eye, kicking one of the baths.
Reflections on Orangeism
A certain someone I know does not have the best of diets. But she did think she'd like to get some juicy orangey type vitamins down her throat.
She buys oranges but she won't eat them - in case they're bitter. So she ends up throwing them away every week. So she decided she'd start taking her oranges in liquid form and to this end she purchased a litre bottle of orange Fanta. I explained to her that Fanta is nothing but carbonated water and sugar and contains no vitamins at all. She then suggested she might buy some of that orange stuff you dilute with water. I told her that this was just flavoured water and sugar - no fruity goodness. I told her about orange juice, which can be purchased anywhere and left her with this piece of Nelly sagacity - all that is orange is not necessarily packed with vitamin C.
She buys oranges but she won't eat them - in case they're bitter. So she ends up throwing them away every week. So she decided she'd start taking her oranges in liquid form and to this end she purchased a litre bottle of orange Fanta. I explained to her that Fanta is nothing but carbonated water and sugar and contains no vitamins at all. She then suggested she might buy some of that orange stuff you dilute with water. I told her that this was just flavoured water and sugar - no fruity goodness. I told her about orange juice, which can be purchased anywhere and left her with this piece of Nelly sagacity - all that is orange is not necessarily packed with vitamin C.
She Got A First
Mel A said that getting a First would not change her a bit. She'd still be the same silly ol' Mel that we all adore.
I think these pictures tell a different story. The one on the left shows her in the days when all she had to her name was a couple of A levels. Now look at the snoots of her.
But seriously Mel - WELL DONE - you deserved it.
I think these pictures tell a different story. The one on the left shows her in the days when all she had to her name was a couple of A levels. Now look at the snoots of her.
But seriously Mel - WELL DONE - you deserved it.
Where were you when...?
I spotted this meme over at Ed’s place and started to do it but then had to stop as it was too boring. It's just that there haven't been any dramatic changes in my life in the past ten years. For that I'd have to go further back. So with Live8 on yesterday, and I did see a bit of it as I was squinting out for our Katy and Mark, I got to remembering what I was doing the day Live Aid was on.
For a start I didn't see it as the telly wasn't on. There was a crazy rumour going round in the sink estate I was living in, and later put out of for hippiness and faint traces of Catholicism, that the TV licence detection vans would be out in force and I believed this rumour.
Then I didn't care for any of the acts that were appearing. OK I might have been mildly interested in some of them but not enough to sit through the dross anxiously awaiting the knock on the door and the dreaded words, "Hello miss, do you have a television licence?"
And anyway I spent most of the day in bed with the duvet pulled over my head as I was terribly depressed. And it was a lovely day too!
My little ones? They were having a happy day at their Dad's house and, no doubt, Live Aid was on.
To follow - Princess Diana, the Moon landings, Elvis Presley, JFK, the Coronation, the Ascent of Everest, D Day etc, etc.
For a start I didn't see it as the telly wasn't on. There was a crazy rumour going round in the sink estate I was living in, and later put out of for hippiness and faint traces of Catholicism, that the TV licence detection vans would be out in force and I believed this rumour.
Then I didn't care for any of the acts that were appearing. OK I might have been mildly interested in some of them but not enough to sit through the dross anxiously awaiting the knock on the door and the dreaded words, "Hello miss, do you have a television licence?"
And anyway I spent most of the day in bed with the duvet pulled over my head as I was terribly depressed. And it was a lovely day too!
My little ones? They were having a happy day at their Dad's house and, no doubt, Live Aid was on.
To follow - Princess Diana, the Moon landings, Elvis Presley, JFK, the Coronation, the Ascent of Everest, D Day etc, etc.
Saturday, July 02, 2005
A Classier Bird
Sometimes I wish that I wasn't a well brought up lady for then I could share some of the shocking tales that I occasionally hear about some of Ballymena's more colourful characters.
Stories like the one I heard yesterday about Old Bill. This man has his own house but during the day he prefers life on the streets for he enjoys the company of street drinkers and other unfortunates. He claims to be 86 but I think he's probably just 68 and looking for sympathy.
He's not really a looker and at 68/86 his pulling days are pretty much over. I have it on good authority (PSNI good enough for you) that Old Bill would relieve his tension by pleasuring Tesco frozen chickens. We wondered, Ursa Minor and I, if he couldn't have got himself a classier bird - say one from Sainsburys or Marks & Spencer.
He's going about with a woman now. As I said to Ursa Minor, "There's someone for everyone," and she replied, "At least she's warm!"
If anyone thinks that the subject matter of this post is too. too dreadful I refer you to Portnoy's Complaint. If it's good enough for Philip Roth..
Stories like the one I heard yesterday about Old Bill. This man has his own house but during the day he prefers life on the streets for he enjoys the company of street drinkers and other unfortunates. He claims to be 86 but I think he's probably just 68 and looking for sympathy.
He's not really a looker and at 68/86 his pulling days are pretty much over. I have it on good authority (PSNI good enough for you) that Old Bill would relieve his tension by pleasuring Tesco frozen chickens. We wondered, Ursa Minor and I, if he couldn't have got himself a classier bird - say one from Sainsburys or Marks & Spencer.
He's going about with a woman now. As I said to Ursa Minor, "There's someone for everyone," and she replied, "At least she's warm!"
If anyone thinks that the subject matter of this post is too. too dreadful I refer you to Portnoy's Complaint. If it's good enough for Philip Roth..
Thursday, June 30, 2005
Summer Music
As everyone knows summer is the time for getting out of doors, attending some major music event and taking in some great sounds.
On Monday evening, whilst on my tea break, I was able to enjoy some summer sounds. The festival? Ballymena Mini Twelfth. The bands? No one really well known but boy could they make a noise. My quibbles? Maybe a bit samey in places. There was plenty of drum but not enough bass. Guitar bands were in short supply. The performers (and the audience) didn't really seem to be enjoying themselves. Quite honestly I've seen more jollity in the Crisis Loan queue up at the broo.
But hey - each to his own. I'm going to another one on the twelfth of July. Can't get out of it really.
On Monday evening, whilst on my tea break, I was able to enjoy some summer sounds. The festival? Ballymena Mini Twelfth. The bands? No one really well known but boy could they make a noise. My quibbles? Maybe a bit samey in places. There was plenty of drum but not enough bass. Guitar bands were in short supply. The performers (and the audience) didn't really seem to be enjoying themselves. Quite honestly I've seen more jollity in the Crisis Loan queue up at the broo.
But hey - each to his own. I'm going to another one on the twelfth of July. Can't get out of it really.
Wednesday, June 29, 2005
Wren, Titchwell (Norfolk), 9-Jun-04
Katy, who lives there, says that Norfolk is an excellent place for bird watching. She calls it good twitcher country. I don't know if Dave Appleton is a twitcher but he's a superb photographer and this is, without doubt, the best picture of a wren that I could find on the internet.
Move Along Now - No Sodomy Here
Last year a pair of goldfinches nested in a standard growing in the nursery. Luckily, as Bert had grown it from a slip of privet that our old dog Danny had pulled out of a hedge, it was definitely not for sale. Danny had this crazy habit when travelling in the van where he'd snatch and bite at bits of hedges in overgrown lanes. They seemed to rile him.
So Bert grew this bit of privet into a very nice standard. It's about eight years old now and he's been offered good money for it on many occasions. But as I said it's not for sale. We don't have Danny any more but we do have his tree and it will be planted at our new house. Old Danny is already planted there under a mountain ash if I recall correctly.
Last year's goldfinches raised the young ones successfully but they're not the last birds to fail to make a distinction between nursery stock and other nest-building options. This year we have wrens nesting within a group of six larches in the polytunnel. Those larches should be stood outside but they cannot be moved or sold until the wrens are done with them.
So Bert grew this bit of privet into a very nice standard. It's about eight years old now and he's been offered good money for it on many occasions. But as I said it's not for sale. We don't have Danny any more but we do have his tree and it will be planted at our new house. Old Danny is already planted there under a mountain ash if I recall correctly.
Last year's goldfinches raised the young ones successfully but they're not the last birds to fail to make a distinction between nursery stock and other nest-building options. This year we have wrens nesting within a group of six larches in the polytunnel. Those larches should be stood outside but they cannot be moved or sold until the wrens are done with them.
Tuesday, June 28, 2005
Save Ulster From Sodomy
So the Gay Pride March has been referred to the Parades Commission and why ever not say I. After all the whole point of the Parades Commission is to give everyone their spoke. Even if they are killjoy po-faced drears like..
Jonathan Larner of the protest group "Stop the Parade" said [the proposed parade] was "offensive". "Our outlook on this parade is a wholly peaceful one, we find the whole parade morally offensive," he said. "As evangelical Christians we believe what the bible says regarding sodomy - that it is a sin - and for that reason we want to oppose a parade that we see is promoting a sinful lifestyle."
Don't get me wrong, I'm not saying that sodomy* should be compulsory for everyone. As far as I'm concerned it's a lifestyle choice. And far be it from me to diss 'The Good Book' but I believe it gives certain advice on how 'bloody' women ought to be conducting themselves, not to mention dietary guidelines that most of us are happy to ignore. This country could be doing with more fun parades like Gay Pride.
*Sodomy - evangelical Christians and others of that ilk can only see or hear of a male homosexual person than they are immediately fixating on an act of anal penetrative sex. I cannot help but wonder why this concerns them so. Do gays when coming across heterosexuals think so much about what they do in private? I'm inclined to think they do not. I'm inclined to think that the private lives of gay people are just as diverse and maybe just as dull as those of heterosexuals.
Monday, June 27, 2005
Tongue Tied
Green Lane
Originally uploaded by NellyMoser. Saturday, June 25, 2005
The Things They Come Out With Part 2
I went to the market this morning. Zoe and the Kerry sister came too. I bought nothing. Not even an onion, certainly not any pruck.
Kerry sister bought fish for herself and Matty. The Fish Man was a very keen salesman. She pointed to the fish she wanted. He weighed it.
FM: Is that enough for you? KS: Aye. It's just for the two of us. FM. For two? Do you not need more? There's only £1.40 in that. KS: That'll be plenty. Sure me ma doesn't eat much. She'll only be wanting a wee sliver to 'taste her mouth.' Did you say £1.50? FM: Aye.I reckoned the 10p he did her out of was worth it for the amusement it provided me. Kerry sister told me about this remark a neighbour made to her.
"I was just saying to our Annie that it's a blessing your Daddy died for this heat would have killed him!"
The Things They Come Out With Part 1
Despite being roundly slated in the Independent by Janet Street-Porter the Saintly Sirbob says he doesn't mind a bit because he never takes the criticisms of those "paid to provoke" to heart. He went on to say that he loves Janet but that she was -
"turning into one of those great bonkers old women and I love it.."He also adores Germaine. Well I'd just like to say - fuck you Bobby Boy. I'm thrilled you love bonkers old women - except I actually think you're a patronising, lying misogynist. This strong opinion based on an interview by Ginny Dougary featured in today's Times.
Friday, June 24, 2005
Opinionate!
Recent heavy commenting at Green had me thinking that I don't feel strongly enough about anything to put banners on the blog and like Marc I'm put off by too popular trends so wouldn't entertain this charity wrist band carry-on. So I've been worrying that, compared to other blogs, this one is a bit opinion-lite
So I devised this Amusing Game to top up my opinion count. These are the rules.
I grabbed Ian McEwan's Enduring Love. I opened it at the beginning of Chapter 9. I have emboldened the five words/phrases I found.
Sense. I have a strong opinion on sense and consider it necessary to survival. To have a lack of sense is very unfortunate indeed.
Point of view. Points of view are similar things to opinions. A point of view is worth having but I would argue that it is better not to be ramming it down other people's throats.
Three flights of stairs. Undoubtedly useful. Especially for reaching higher floors. And keeping fit.
Five kilograms of books. Well that would depend on the class of book wouldn't it? In most circumstances I'd say that five kilograms of books would be a good thing.
Leather bag. Without a doubt and with no apologies either to Stella or Sir Paul I applaud the leather bag. Leather, beef and milk are what we grow cows for. Moo!
So I devised this Amusing Game to top up my opinion count. These are the rules.
- Grab a book, any book.
- Open at random.
- List the first five words or phrases that are suitable for opinionating on.
I grabbed Ian McEwan's Enduring Love. I opened it at the beginning of Chapter 9. I have emboldened the five words/phrases I found.
It would make more sense of Clarissa's return to tell it from her point of view. Or at least, from that point as I later construed it. She arrives up three flights of stairs, bearing five kilograms of books. And papers in her leather bag...
Sense. I have a strong opinion on sense and consider it necessary to survival. To have a lack of sense is very unfortunate indeed.
Point of view. Points of view are similar things to opinions. A point of view is worth having but I would argue that it is better not to be ramming it down other people's throats.
Three flights of stairs. Undoubtedly useful. Especially for reaching higher floors. And keeping fit.
Five kilograms of books. Well that would depend on the class of book wouldn't it? In most circumstances I'd say that five kilograms of books would be a good thing.
Leather bag. Without a doubt and with no apologies either to Stella or Sir Paul I applaud the leather bag. Leather, beef and milk are what we grow cows for. Moo!
Thursday, June 23, 2005
A Morning Cuppa
You know how boys like to sleep out in summer in tents on the lawn?
Last night Bert decided to do that. But why bother erecting a tent when he's already got three big permanent tents otherwise known as polytunnels.
It's not the first time he's slept in a polytunnel. One lovely summer day a few years ago he curled up for a nap in a cosy nest of horticultural fleece. He was awakened some time later by the nudge of a sensible laced up shoe (not Ganching's.) He looked up to see a concerned looking, seventy plus, potential clematis buyer looking down at him. 'Oh thank goodness,' she said 'You gave me a scare. I thought you were dead.'
Last night Bert decided to do that. But why bother erecting a tent when he's already got three big permanent tents otherwise known as polytunnels.
It's not the first time he's slept in a polytunnel. One lovely summer day a few years ago he curled up for a nap in a cosy nest of horticultural fleece. He was awakened some time later by the nudge of a sensible laced up shoe (not Ganching's.) He looked up to see a concerned looking, seventy plus, potential clematis buyer looking down at him. 'Oh thank goodness,' she said 'You gave me a scare. I thought you were dead.'
Wednesday, June 22, 2005
A Day at the Seaside
Today I went to the seaside with one of the goodest, sweetest, kindest, nicest girls in Ireland. We went to Ballycastle, Cushendall, Waterfoot and Carnlough. The mother and young brother of the goodest, sweetest etc. girl came too.
Today we learned that if we leave our own dogs at home we will meet lots of new dogs that our own dogs would not have let us be friends with if they had come with us.
Today we found out that the man who owns the ice cream shop in Carnlough knows Nelly's real name (Mary) and we do not know how this can be so.
Is he an old boyfriend that Nelly has forgotten about? We hope not.
Today we learned that if we leave our own dogs at home we will meet lots of new dogs that our own dogs would not have let us be friends with if they had come with us.
Today we found out that the man who owns the ice cream shop in Carnlough knows Nelly's real name (Mary) and we do not know how this can be so.
Is he an old boyfriend that Nelly has forgotten about? We hope not.
Hammerite Hammerong
Pearlie: Have ye any of that black paint left ye were painting the spoutings with?
Bert: No.
Pearlie: Och. That's a pity.
Bert: Was there something you wanted me to paint for you?
Pearlie: It disnae matter.
Bert: Go on. Tell me what you wanted me to paint for you.
Pearlie: I was going to ask you tae paint my shoes for they're awful grey luckin'.
Bert: Have you ever had your shoes painted with Hammerite before?
Pearlie: No, but I thought it would have made a brave good job of them.
Tuesday, June 21, 2005
Tyrone
Getting Offside
The Kerry sister was wanting to do a bit of decorating for Matty. Dutifully I asked if she would like me to help her. She requested, instead, that I take Matty out for the day so that she could get on with it.
So we headed in the direction of Tyrone stopping first for coffee in Draperstown. When I used to be a market trader I'd visit Draperstown twice a month. I'd always liked the town's wide streets and the way it sits among the foothills of the Sperrins. I loved the soft voices of the people. I came across my first transvestite in Draperstown. Wearing a cheap wig and a dowdy cloth coat she was far from glamorous but she did have a quiet dignity. I never felt the need to laugh at her anyway.
While we were there Matty said she wanted to have a look at some shops. She led me into the most old-fashioned hardware shop in the world. The only objects there that could possibly have held the slightest interest for me were some Pyrex measuring jugs. 'Can I help you?' ventured the young assistant. 'No, just looking.' I replied. Looking at what? Coils of rope? Shovels? Galvanised buckets? Then Matty piped up, 'But I thought this was a dress shop.'
Onwards to Tyrone - Land of my Ancestors
Matty's parents came from Tyrone. Granda's family were from Moy and Granny was born in Newtownstewart. While Granda's people had migrated to Belfast in search of work Granny spent her childhood in Plumbridge. There were cousins in Gortin so it was to Gortin we went as Matty was remembering a wonderful holiday she and her sister had spent there, in the summer of 1947, as the guests of their mother's cousin Mamie. We found the road where Mamie had lived but the lane was overgrown and the cottage long gone.
This is one of the joys of driving Matty around. She starts remembering and telling stories. And as this journey was one she had taken on many occasions with Daddy some of the stories were very poignant. Once again I listened to the stories about their meeting and courtship. She told me about the funny sayings and silly games they enjoyed as they travelled about. She told me all about the wonderful holiday she'd had with Mamie. This had been her first parting from Daddy since they'd started going out and she'd written to him three times in two weeks. 'Did he write back?' I asked. 'Not atall,' she said, 'Sure he never wrote a letter in his life.' Apparently she'd written to him to reassure him that she hadn't gone off with some Tyrone boy. For according to Matty, and I do not doubt her, she was very popular with boys in her young days.
Hearing Matty tell her stories I sometimes feel envious of the times she lived in. That holiday to Gortin, 60 long miles from home, was such a novelty for her. She told a story about her sister and herself, out on their borrowed bikes and getting themselves lost, meeting a group of young, kilted men, also on bicycles, who were on their way back from Twelfth of July celebrations. She said that these fellows escorted them to the right road and said how exotic it was to be riding along with a troop of Protestant boys in kilts and how this would have been unthinkable behaviour at home.
Matty and I behaved very well in Tyrone. We waved at passers-by and were extremely courteous on the road. 'After all,' Matty said, 'Anyone here might be your cousin.'
On the way home Matty asked me, 'Do you ever look at the clouds and imagine you can see pictures in them?' I said, 'Not while I'm driving.'
The Kerry sister was wanting to do a bit of decorating for Matty. Dutifully I asked if she would like me to help her. She requested, instead, that I take Matty out for the day so that she could get on with it.
So we headed in the direction of Tyrone stopping first for coffee in Draperstown. When I used to be a market trader I'd visit Draperstown twice a month. I'd always liked the town's wide streets and the way it sits among the foothills of the Sperrins. I loved the soft voices of the people. I came across my first transvestite in Draperstown. Wearing a cheap wig and a dowdy cloth coat she was far from glamorous but she did have a quiet dignity. I never felt the need to laugh at her anyway.
While we were there Matty said she wanted to have a look at some shops. She led me into the most old-fashioned hardware shop in the world. The only objects there that could possibly have held the slightest interest for me were some Pyrex measuring jugs. 'Can I help you?' ventured the young assistant. 'No, just looking.' I replied. Looking at what? Coils of rope? Shovels? Galvanised buckets? Then Matty piped up, 'But I thought this was a dress shop.'
Onwards to Tyrone - Land of my Ancestors
Gortin
Matty's parents came from Tyrone. Granda's family were from Moy and Granny was born in Newtownstewart. While Granda's people had migrated to Belfast in search of work Granny spent her childhood in Plumbridge. There were cousins in Gortin so it was to Gortin we went as Matty was remembering a wonderful holiday she and her sister had spent there, in the summer of 1947, as the guests of their mother's cousin Mamie. We found the road where Mamie had lived but the lane was overgrown and the cottage long gone.
This is one of the joys of driving Matty around. She starts remembering and telling stories. And as this journey was one she had taken on many occasions with Daddy some of the stories were very poignant. Once again I listened to the stories about their meeting and courtship. She told me about the funny sayings and silly games they enjoyed as they travelled about. She told me all about the wonderful holiday she'd had with Mamie. This had been her first parting from Daddy since they'd started going out and she'd written to him three times in two weeks. 'Did he write back?' I asked. 'Not atall,' she said, 'Sure he never wrote a letter in his life.' Apparently she'd written to him to reassure him that she hadn't gone off with some Tyrone boy. For according to Matty, and I do not doubt her, she was very popular with boys in her young days.
Hearing Matty tell her stories I sometimes feel envious of the times she lived in. That holiday to Gortin, 60 long miles from home, was such a novelty for her. She told a story about her sister and herself, out on their borrowed bikes and getting themselves lost, meeting a group of young, kilted men, also on bicycles, who were on their way back from Twelfth of July celebrations. She said that these fellows escorted them to the right road and said how exotic it was to be riding along with a troop of Protestant boys in kilts and how this would have been unthinkable behaviour at home.
Matty and I behaved very well in Tyrone. We waved at passers-by and were extremely courteous on the road. 'After all,' Matty said, 'Anyone here might be your cousin.'
On the way home Matty asked me, 'Do you ever look at the clouds and imagine you can see pictures in them?' I said, 'Not while I'm driving.'
Sunday, June 19, 2005
Father's Day
Father's Day has followed too close behind my father's death. Daddy will need no cards or presents this year.
So this time I'll honour Mick - the father of Zoe, Katy and Hannah. Happy Father's Day Mick - you're the best.
I'll also take this opportunity to wish marc and mquest a happy Father's Day. I know it's a different day in the States but good wishes are good any day of the year.
And Mick - if you'd update your Amazon wish list I might give you a present too!
So this time I'll honour Mick - the father of Zoe, Katy and Hannah. Happy Father's Day Mick - you're the best.
I'll also take this opportunity to wish marc and mquest a happy Father's Day. I know it's a different day in the States but good wishes are good any day of the year.
And Mick - if you'd update your Amazon wish list I might give you a present too!
Saturday, June 18, 2005
Ashes to Ashes
Once again the conversation turns to funerals.
Bert: Well I couldn't care less what happens after I'm dead.
Nelly: Funerals are for the ones left behind. I've said to Zoe and I've said to Bert that if I should die before my mother they're to bury me with the full rites of the Catholic Church.
Marty: I wouldn't want a Catholic funeral. I'd want it religion free.
Nelly: If I die after my ma I might want to be buried here on this land.
Marty: I wouldn't want to be buried. I'd rather be cremated.
Nelly: If I'm cremated I'd like my ashes to be buried here in the garden.
Bert: Beside the dogs?
Marty: I'd like my ashes to be scattered.
Bert: In some place that you really loved?
Nelly: So Bert- we'll scatter yours in your bed then.
Ganching & Nelly
Friday, June 17, 2005
A History of Cats
First there was Caps. We got her in 1997. She was put to sleep last year after suffering kidney failure.
Her Claim To Fame. An unknown person shot Caps with a pellet gun resulting in her having a front leg amputated at the shoulder. She survived this and lived happily for a few more years. She was a great favourite of Hannah.
Secondly came Attila. Palmed off on us by kids. Caps and Attila did not get on. She was found one morning stiff and dead behind the sofa. Caps declined to comment.
Her Claim to Fame. A friend was visiting and remarked "That cat's having kittens." I replied resignedly, "I know - it's a bloody nuisance." She went on. "No. She's having kittens." I looked over and she was. My friend got the pick of the litter.
Then there was Muff (not pictured in previous post) He was a ghastly ginger tomcat who was palmed off on to Hannah by her then boyfriend's granda. He was a thug of a cat and a dirty low-life thief.
His Claim to Fame. We took him half a mile up the road to Pearlie's. He came back. We took him to the crossroads. He came back. We took him to Lisnahuncheon. He came back. We took him to Portglenone. He came back to the houses across the road. I believe he thought we didn't like him.
Finally there is Harry de Cat. We called him after our favourite Dutchman Harry de Kooter. Harry is a neutered tomcat. He does not answer to poofy cat calling noises like 'puss-wuss' or 'pooshy-wooshy' but only to his name.
His Claim to Fame - fighting dogs and pissing on his enemies. He is also the first cat that Bert has ever liked.
Her Claim To Fame. An unknown person shot Caps with a pellet gun resulting in her having a front leg amputated at the shoulder. She survived this and lived happily for a few more years. She was a great favourite of Hannah.
Secondly came Attila. Palmed off on us by kids. Caps and Attila did not get on. She was found one morning stiff and dead behind the sofa. Caps declined to comment.
Her Claim to Fame. A friend was visiting and remarked "That cat's having kittens." I replied resignedly, "I know - it's a bloody nuisance." She went on. "No. She's having kittens." I looked over and she was. My friend got the pick of the litter.
Then there was Muff (not pictured in previous post) He was a ghastly ginger tomcat who was palmed off on to Hannah by her then boyfriend's granda. He was a thug of a cat and a dirty low-life thief.
His Claim to Fame. We took him half a mile up the road to Pearlie's. He came back. We took him to the crossroads. He came back. We took him to Lisnahuncheon. He came back. We took him to Portglenone. He came back to the houses across the road. I believe he thought we didn't like him.
Finally there is Harry de Cat. We called him after our favourite Dutchman Harry de Kooter. Harry is a neutered tomcat. He does not answer to poofy cat calling noises like 'puss-wuss' or 'pooshy-wooshy' but only to his name.
His Claim to Fame - fighting dogs and pissing on his enemies. He is also the first cat that Bert has ever liked.
Pet Collage
19 years worth of cats, dogs & horses
Originally uploaded by NellyMoser.
Row 1 features Caps, Danny and Attila. All dead.
Row 2 shows Polly, Rosie, Blaze and Bob. Rosie is still with us. The horses have been sold.
Row 3 features Harry, Molly and Paddy. Harry and Paddy are still with us, Molly has died.
Thursday, June 16, 2005
Into The Ether
Bert came in this afternoon after doing a clematis delivery run. It was obvious from his demeanour that he was in turmoil again. What could be wrong?
Was he worrying about his forthcoming interview with the Inland Revenue?
Had a new problem arisen with the sale of the house?
Was the van playing up?
Was he hungry?
Then he spoke and I knew it was none of these things that bothered him.
Bert's belongings frequently disappear into the ether. If I lose anything it's because I am careless, daft or have 'too much crap.' However the ether, into which Bert's possessions regularly disappear, teems with his stuff including several woolly hats, many pens, scissors, penknives, the sheet music of the Rocky Road to Dublin, tin whistles and all of his 2002 business invoices.
Strangely he never loses any cash to the ether but then he is from Cullybackey.
Was he worrying about his forthcoming interview with the Inland Revenue?
Had a new problem arisen with the sale of the house?
Was the van playing up?
Was he hungry?
Then he spoke and I knew it was none of these things that bothered him.
"Can you go on the internet and get me the sheet music for 'The Rocky Road To Dublin'?"
"Sure you were sitting here on this sofa two days ago with that on your lap."
"I know but it's disappeared."
"It must be around somewhere."
"I've looked everywhere. It's vanished into the ether."
Bert's belongings frequently disappear into the ether. If I lose anything it's because I am careless, daft or have 'too much crap.' However the ether, into which Bert's possessions regularly disappear, teems with his stuff including several woolly hats, many pens, scissors, penknives, the sheet music of the Rocky Road to Dublin, tin whistles and all of his 2002 business invoices.
Strangely he never loses any cash to the ether but then he is from Cullybackey.
Tuesday, June 14, 2005
Just Drive
The first day I drove the car.
Cullybackey, Ballymena, Antrim - we called at a garden centre where Bert was collecting a cheque. I had a chat with one of the trainees. Her training is coming on well and she's only been there for about eight years.
Belfast - we had our first argument.
Ballygowan - Bert collected eight trays of clematis liners.
Mahee Island - a beautiful place. We promised ourselves we'd return when the weather was less wintry.
Balloo - was it here I had a huge row with Bert?
Saintfield - or was it here?
Dromore - visited a reclamation yard near here. I refused to get out of the car. Bert stomped about. I wept.
Hillsborough - got a fry somewhere near here. That helped.
Lisburn, Antrim - cried all along the A26.
Galgorm - dried my eyes.
Cullybackey - went to bed and slept for several hours. Bert woke me at seven pm for eggs and toast. Afterwards watched a programme that showed big baby owls eating whole voles while their smaller nest mates looked on enviously.
The following day I drove the van.
Cullybackey, Ballymena, Tannaghmore - where I picked up the Kerry sister and her dog.
Galgorm. Cullybackey - Kerry sister took some measurements at the new house.
Rasharkin, Ballymoney - went to the builder's office and left in a large cheque. Sorry a lie. The cheque was only 5 inches by 2.5 inches.
Coleraine, Articlave - visited reclamation yard and purchased a cast iron radiator.
Downhill, Limavady - had a late lunch and visited a wonderful bookshop. I bought The Rough Guide to Classical Music.
Garvagh, Kilrea, Portglenone, Randalstown, Tannaghmore - drank tea with Matty.
Ballymena, Cullybackey - watched owl programme again. Bill Oddie informed us that the reason barn owls hatch chicks at intervals is so that the big owl chicks can eat the little ones if voles are scarce.
Sunday, June 12, 2005
Walk A Mile In Her Shoes
Swisser visited us this afternoon bearing a gift of chocolate, which always guarantees a warm welcome at Nelly's.
She was complaining to Bert and myself that she feels driven out of her own home by her sons Charlie and Rob who are 17 and 15 respectively. She claims they eat at least £40 of victuals per day and are thoroughly undomesticated. They are huge, noisy and always there. Swisser has a busy career in academia but finds that her home life is a continual round of shopping, cooking and cleaning. She says she rarely has a chance to unwind. So we wondered where she could go to find some respite. The boys are quite capable of fending for themselves for a week or so but Swisser says that the state of the house when she returns is enough to fill her heart with dread and spoil the whole exercise.
After running through a list of possible escape plans I asked if she had considered sending them on holiday. "Of course!" she answered, "But they just won't go." As it was too late to get them into the Big Brother house this year, benefits being that Swisser can see what they're up to while she has total freedom to do as she pleases, for at least a week, the only other alternative I could suggest was to fit them up for a crime and get them committed to a Young Offender's Centre. "No good," wailed Swisser, "They'd just grass me up right back."
She was complaining to Bert and myself that she feels driven out of her own home by her sons Charlie and Rob who are 17 and 15 respectively. She claims they eat at least £40 of victuals per day and are thoroughly undomesticated. They are huge, noisy and always there. Swisser has a busy career in academia but finds that her home life is a continual round of shopping, cooking and cleaning. She says she rarely has a chance to unwind. So we wondered where she could go to find some respite. The boys are quite capable of fending for themselves for a week or so but Swisser says that the state of the house when she returns is enough to fill her heart with dread and spoil the whole exercise.
After running through a list of possible escape plans I asked if she had considered sending them on holiday. "Of course!" she answered, "But they just won't go." As it was too late to get them into the Big Brother house this year, benefits being that Swisser can see what they're up to while she has total freedom to do as she pleases, for at least a week, the only other alternative I could suggest was to fit them up for a crime and get them committed to a Young Offender's Centre. "No good," wailed Swisser, "They'd just grass me up right back."
Mad Muso Recommends
The London Sister (not Ganching) and myself were invited over to Gillian Blade's house the other evening and had a very pleasant time. Gilly's delightful Mad Muso husband was also present.
Mad Muso husband has got the sound piped to every room in the house including the downstairs lavatory. I liked that - it keeps up the continuity. Now Mad Muso has, like myself, wide ranging tastes in music but there are areas where we differ. He appears to have no place in his heart (yet) for country music or for Aftrican music. As I have no place in mine for hip-hop or jazz. The closest Mad Muso comes to country in his large music collection is Alabama 3, and they reference country music rather than play it. No bad thing that for they are very good and I followed up his recommendation by making a purchase the very next day. I like getting recommendations because I can say afterwards - X introduced me to this artist.
As is right and proper Mad Muso loves the blues, for it is from that deep well that much other music has sprung. We talked about that and I recounted my recent return to listening to Canned Heat who I first heard at the age of fifteen. That was when I first started getting seriously interested in music other than pop. But I must have been a late developer as Mad Muso had also liked Canned Heat when they first hit the airwaves in Ireland and the UK.
On hearing this I started doing mental arithmetic. If Gilly is 3 years younger than me and if Mad Muso is 8 years younger than Gilly then when Canned Heat broke here he must have been four! At four years old I was into nursery rhymes and the theme tune to Andy Pandy. Mad Muso - I bow to your superior ear.
Geldof the Great
I seem to have forgotten to apply for a ticket for any of the Live 8 concerts. I'd really have liked to go to the London one where I hear that the Great Geldof himself may be performing. I'll never forget that wonderful night, somewhere in Belfast, sometime in the early 70s, when I saw the Boomtown Rats play live. It was a dirty ould job but somebody had to do it. My enduring memory of the night - losing my hash. Did the band make up for it? No. So if you were there and found a quarter - it was probably Nelly's.
I hear that Albarn and Geldof are at loggerheads because Albarn asserts there is a scarcity of black, African or decent music on the bill. Geldof responds by saying that he only wants big selling acts to appear. He'll not be taking the stage himself then?
I hear that Albarn and Geldof are at loggerheads because Albarn asserts there is a scarcity of black, African or decent music on the bill. Geldof responds by saying that he only wants big selling acts to appear. He'll not be taking the stage himself then?
Saturday, June 11, 2005
Father & Daughter
Seamus and Dede enjoying each other's company on the occasion of his 80th birthday.
Zoe used this photograph as inspiration for a portrait of her Granda, which is, incidentally the only picture she's ever painted that Pearlie approves of.
Zoe used this photograph as inspiration for a portrait of her Granda, which is, incidentally the only picture she's ever painted that Pearlie approves of.
Friday, June 10, 2005
Recently Purchased...
..musical recordings by the groups of artistes known as Bright Eyes and Alabama 3 plus a collection of classical recordings retailing at the very reasonable price of 3 for £15. Also recently ordered was a musical recording by Miss Natalie Merchant which includes the traditional song 'Poor Wayfaring Stranger' which was a theme song (the Johnny Cash version) for the journey taken by our father.
Recently considered - a radical change in my life which could include the termination of my current employment which, to lower the tone, sucks big style.
Recently considered - a radical change in my life which could include the termination of my current employment which, to lower the tone, sucks big style.
Thursday, June 09, 2005
Six Days Later
Every morning I wake early and experience a kind of quiet sadness. I think about the events of the previous day and I think about what I am going to do in this day.
On Saturday and Sunday there was a lot to do. There were journeys to the airport, Matty's house to get ready, the 'lift' from Marrion's funeral parlour and the wake.
Between Friday night and Sunday evening the family had all returned. My brother came back from Vancouver on Saturday afternoon after having left on the previous Saunday evening. On those two days the house teemed with people calling to pay their respects. It was tiring and it was good. There was a lot to do.
On Monday we buried Seamus. His was the most beautiful funeral I have ever been to. Daddy would have been proud of us. And we were proud of him too. Afterwards we laughed among ourselves at how he was breaking new ground even at his funeral. I think I can safely say that he was the first man in the parish to have been carried to the chapel door on the shoulders of three Protestants and a Jew.
Since then I wake every morning feeling this quiet sadness. And I try to fill my day with lots to do. Katy has returned to Norfolk butI still have Hannah with me. She goes back to Staffordshire on Saturday. Yesterday we sorted out the kitchen for the new house and today we'll be sorting out some of the flooring. It's better to be busy.
Monday, June 06, 2005
Wayfaring Stranger
I'm just a poor wayfaring stranger Travelling through this world of woe There is no sickness, toil nor danger In that bright land to which I go I'm going there to see my Father And all my loved ones who've gone on I'm just going over Jordan I'm just going over home I know dark clouds will gather 'round me I know my way is hard and steep But beauteous fields arise before me Where God's redeemed their vigils keep I'm going there to see my mother She said she'd meet me when I come So I'm just going over Jordan I'm just going over home
Sunday, June 05, 2005
Call Me Seamus
16th September 1919 - 3rd June 2005
Daddy died peacefully on Friday evening. We will miss him so much.
Daddy died peacefully on Friday evening. We will miss him so much.
Thursday, June 02, 2005
Black Converse All Stars
How many times do I have to tell you that in this life you need to keep your feet on the ground?
But will you listen?
But will you listen?
Licence To Spill
It is fashionable nowadays for women's trousers to hang low and for tops to ride high. This means that an awful lot of belly flesh is on display. Sometimes this is a Good Thing, sometimes it is not. For every outed toned and tanned belly on display there are ten floppy, flabby and pasty ones. Some of the young women in my place of work sport stomachs that have a life of their own. Some of them could be beating those bellies down the road with the aid of a stick pulled from a hedge. Ballymena Borough Council is missing a trick. They currently charge £5 for a dog licence fee, which is in my opinion, reasonable and affordable. Even the unemployed or students could afford a fiver for a belly baring licence - the revenue raised could be used for...... suggestions anyone?
Wednesday, June 01, 2005
Sale Completed
It's been a long hard slog to this day and many people were disappointed. As for Bert - Turmoil had become his middle name.
We are sentimental fools and , at heart, always wanted the place to go to a friend. Unfortunately three of our friends were interested and we only had one place to sell.
In the end it was Ian.
We are sentimental fools and , at heart, always wanted the place to go to a friend. Unfortunately three of our friends were interested and we only had one place to sell.
In the end it was Ian.
Tuesday, May 31, 2005
Very, Very, Very Weird
Back in February I wrote a post titled 'Lemon Jelly' in which I put the lyrics of 'Ramblin' Man', which consists mainly of a list of place names.
Killing time this afternoon before going to work I'm perusing Site Meter when I see that there has been a Google search that's turned 'Lemon Jelly' up. I look further and am shocked to find that it has been altered. There are lots of place names that have been added to it. Places I haven't even heard of! How can this be? Why should this be? This is scaring me.
Either someone has changed it or I'm going mad.
Monday, May 30, 2005
Why Roger Hates Cats
The Blog Muse has deserted me. Oh there are themes running around my head but they're not for the World Wide Web. They would get me sacked, arrested and disinherited.
In my last posting I forgot to mention that I'd given myself a black eye. I was very angry with myself and probably deserved it. It happened after I'd had another telephone encounter with those dreadful Toucan people. Straight afterwards I went out to my Bro's (hired and unfamiliar) car and violently yanked the door into my eye. It was God's way of telling me to let the Toucan thing go.
It appears that others are also seeking the Blog Muse. Marc has used the title of a post by Ganching to get him started and Zoe has turned to recorded music to get her creativity flowing.
Inspired once more by my first-born I am going to do this. I am going to pick something at random from the shelf. My eyes will be closed. The ninth track will be my inspiration. I'm going to do it right now. Oh please don't let it be something naff that will make Marc pity me.
I'm going RIGHT NOW!
I'm back and in my hand is a copy of 'Old & In The Way' featuring, among others, Jerry Garcia. It was recorded in 1996 and I bought it in Nashville a few years ago. I confess I've hardly listened to it. The 9th track is White Dove.... which has inspired me to write this.
When Roger was a boy his family kept fantail and tumbler pigeons. Every evening at pigeon bedtime the fantails and tumblers returned to their coop and someone would close the hatch so they would be safe for the night.
One evening the family returned late from an outing and found a large cat in the coop. It was licking its paws after gorging on pigeon. It was surrounded by at least 15 dead pigeons. The cat had just eaten its Last Supper. Roger has really hated cats ever since.
Fantail
In my last posting I forgot to mention that I'd given myself a black eye. I was very angry with myself and probably deserved it. It happened after I'd had another telephone encounter with those dreadful Toucan people. Straight afterwards I went out to my Bro's (hired and unfamiliar) car and violently yanked the door into my eye. It was God's way of telling me to let the Toucan thing go.
It appears that others are also seeking the Blog Muse. Marc has used the title of a post by Ganching to get him started and Zoe has turned to recorded music to get her creativity flowing.
Inspired once more by my first-born I am going to do this. I am going to pick something at random from the shelf. My eyes will be closed. The ninth track will be my inspiration. I'm going to do it right now. Oh please don't let it be something naff that will make Marc pity me.
I'm going RIGHT NOW!
I'm back and in my hand is a copy of 'Old & In The Way' featuring, among others, Jerry Garcia. It was recorded in 1996 and I bought it in Nashville a few years ago. I confess I've hardly listened to it. The 9th track is White Dove.... which has inspired me to write this.
Why Roger Hates Cats
When Roger was a boy his family kept fantail and tumbler pigeons. Every evening at pigeon bedtime the fantails and tumblers returned to their coop and someone would close the hatch so they would be safe for the night.
One evening the family returned late from an outing and found a large cat in the coop. It was licking its paws after gorging on pigeon. It was surrounded by at least 15 dead pigeons. The cat had just eaten its Last Supper. Roger has really hated cats ever since.
Fantail
Before this evening I'd never heard of tumbler pigeons. They're so called because they tumble as they fly. This is why.
Information on tumbler pigeons obtained here.
Tumbler pigeons are bred deliberately for their epilepsy, a form of seizure that makes them tumble and twist as they fly. Apparently if you see a group of them doing it in unison it's very impressive.
Severely affected pigeons do not survive very long, but careful management of the breed perpetuates moderate seizures.
Information on tumbler pigeons obtained here.
Sunday, May 29, 2005
Things I Neglected To Tell
There were a few things that happened during the past week which I haven't blogged.
I said goodbye to the bashed up Astra and said hello to a diesel Fiesta. One of its first outings was taking Matty and Kerry Niece to Glenarm where we called on Lord Antrim. He wasn't at home so we visited his walled garden and paid £9 for the privilege. I was rather hoping that there would be a concession for the elderly but, alas, Matty and I had to pay the full whack. For some reason Kerry Niece was charged as a child despite being a full grown woman of 20 so that was pretty good. The gardens were very fine. I got chatting to the gardeners and gave them our phone number in case Lord Antrim might be needing any clematis in the near future. Natch he'll be paying big money for them after the exorbitant rates he charged us for his oul garden.
And Vancouver Brother went back yesterday which always leaves me feeling a bit bereft. It's a long way away. We've still got Vancouver Nephew but he's decamped to Dingle which is also a long way away.
Leitrim Sister has been away, back and away again. She's off to Dublin tomorrow to work on the Lassie movie. She missed the first three weeks of it due to Daddy's illness.
Then Bert celebrated his birthday last night in the company of a few close friends. A nice wee night was had by all and the heads weren't too bad at all this morning. We are getting too old for hangovers.
I said goodbye to the bashed up Astra and said hello to a diesel Fiesta. One of its first outings was taking Matty and Kerry Niece to Glenarm where we called on Lord Antrim. He wasn't at home so we visited his walled garden and paid £9 for the privilege. I was rather hoping that there would be a concession for the elderly but, alas, Matty and I had to pay the full whack. For some reason Kerry Niece was charged as a child despite being a full grown woman of 20 so that was pretty good. The gardens were very fine. I got chatting to the gardeners and gave them our phone number in case Lord Antrim might be needing any clematis in the near future. Natch he'll be paying big money for them after the exorbitant rates he charged us for his oul garden.
And Vancouver Brother went back yesterday which always leaves me feeling a bit bereft. It's a long way away. We've still got Vancouver Nephew but he's decamped to Dingle which is also a long way away.
Leitrim Sister has been away, back and away again. She's off to Dublin tomorrow to work on the Lassie movie. She missed the first three weeks of it due to Daddy's illness.
Then Bert celebrated his birthday last night in the company of a few close friends. A nice wee night was had by all and the heads weren't too bad at all this morning. We are getting too old for hangovers.
Saturday, May 28, 2005
Happy Birthday Bert & Kylie
line dancer
Originally uploaded by NellyMoser. 
And it's also Happy Birthday to one of Bert's heroines - Miss Kylie Minogue. All the best to Kylie - hope you get well soon.
Friday, May 27, 2005
Midgets and Monkeys
One of the more tedious things about returning to work is having to catch up on all the notes, memos and reports that accumulate during my absence. Sometimes these can be amusing. Once I read a report that stated that a client had called on staff during the night because 'midgets were coming in her window.'
During my most recent vacation this was written in notes -
During my most recent vacation this was written in notes -
"I was later contacted by the PSNI to see if M___ had left a monkey in the office"
PSNI - Police Service of Northern Ireland
Thursday, May 26, 2005
More Worms
I've noticed that my post Worms comes up fairly often on Site Meter. At first I thought that there must be some perverted b'stard out there who just cannot get enough of the disgusting tale. So I investigated further. It seems that perfectly innocent Yahoo searchers wanting to know a little more about 'garden worms' are directed towards the revolting story of Harry de Cat and his amazing All-Dancing, All-Singing, All-Wriggling Tape Worm.
Be warned - if you are squeamish Do Not Look At The Post.
Be warned - if you are squeamish Do Not Look At The Post.
Wednesday, May 25, 2005
Healthy Living
Mark was enquiring recently how my healthy lifestyle plan was progressing so I thought I'd update you all on this as I may have been a little bit evasive in my answer.
Woke up this morning at a quarter to eight And said to myself 'I hate to lie late' Then changed the alarm to a quarter to nine Told myself another hour'd do me right fine At breakfast I said 'It's porridge for me, It's healthy and filling and practically free' But then I considered that this might be nice Croissants and coffee and wee sweetie mice After breakfast I thought I'd go for a stroll For the sugar and croissants were taking their toll And what better thing than walking the dogs Except spending all morning reading your blogs At lunch I feasted on lettuce and eggs And then thought I really must stretch my legs So I planned to head out for a bit of a run Then it started to rain and I ate an iced bun At dinner I dined on a healthy baked spud And virtuously refused the offer of pud And stuck to my plan to fast after nine Except for a bottle of really nice wine
Tuesday, May 24, 2005
Opinionated
If Bert's mother feels strongly about something she believes in speaking her mind about it. She's not what you'd generally call opinionated except in matters of decor.
Of course in my opinion her taste sucks. She favours a cluttered look with masses of pictures and ornaments featuring cute animals, birds and flowers. Artificial flowers, hideous cushions and vile clashing patterns abound.
So it was pretty certain that she wasn't going to like Zoe's painting of Bert. But she didn't have to go on about it.
Not true. Bert's had a green face manys a time in the past. Usually due to overindulgence in alcohol and/or recreationals. But Pearlie never seen it because he always kept his head under the blanket on those mornings.
But I'm not the only one who has been insulted thus by Pearlie or had our flesh & blood held up to ridicule.
Recently Bert's cousin presented Pearlie with a framed photograph of her baby granddaughter. It was one of those snaps that are taken in old-fashioned garb and the baby was wearing an outsize pinafore and a mob cap.
Pearlie has taken the frog child's photo out of the frame and replaced it with one of Charlotte Church. The child's grandmother has not been back since.
Of course in my opinion her taste sucks. She favours a cluttered look with masses of pictures and ornaments featuring cute animals, birds and flowers. Artificial flowers, hideous cushions and vile clashing patterns abound.
So it was pretty certain that she wasn't going to like Zoe's painting of Bert. But she didn't have to go on about it.
"I dinnae know why you put that oul thing in a frame."
"Because we love it."
"Huh! Will I dinnae like it. It lucks naethin' leck Bertie."
"Well everyone else likes it. It's greatly admired."
"Humph! I dinnae know why ivrybody thinks Zoe's so good at the painting. She can paint nane! That's naethin like Bertie."
"Huh? Everyone who comes in here knows straight away that picture is of Bert."
"Bertie's face wis niver that colour in his life! Sure she's painted him green!"
Not true. Bert's had a green face manys a time in the past. Usually due to overindulgence in alcohol and/or recreationals. But Pearlie never seen it because he always kept his head under the blanket on those mornings.
But I'm not the only one who has been insulted thus by Pearlie or had our flesh & blood held up to ridicule.
Recently Bert's cousin presented Pearlie with a framed photograph of her baby granddaughter. It was one of those snaps that are taken in old-fashioned garb and the baby was wearing an outsize pinafore and a mob cap.
"Oh I dinnae like that. Can ye no get me a nicer one? She looks like a wee frog in that."
Pearlie has taken the frog child's photo out of the frame and replaced it with one of Charlotte Church. The child's grandmother has not been back since.
We'll Never Forget You
It has been a long time since I've had a close neighbour and I've enjoyed that. Although it's not that isolated here; there is a small estate on the far side of the road and about six other houses dotted around. But the yard is private - or so I thought.
Before the house was built this property consisted of a rough lane leading to a derelict house. Some people living nearby would have used the lane for walking their dogs. While the house was being built a young fellow in his early twenties approached Bert to ask a favour. He told Bert that his dog had just died and asked if he could bury it near the old house as his dog had always enjoyed running about there. The following day Bert showed me where the young man had buried his dog. A piece of wood had been placed on the little grave and it was marked with the letters WNFY. We puzzled about this for a while but ended up deciding that the letters stood for We'll Never Forget You.
But that wasn't the end of the dogs and their walkers. Once when I was taking an early morning shower I realised I'd left my shampoo in the car. I grabbed the smallest towel in the world and partially wrapped myself in it. The combination of a small towel and my voluptuousness (or rotundity) did not make for a modest appearance but no matter - I was alone and the car was just outside the door. I ran out, opened the car and grabbed my shampoo. It was then I noticed movement to my left. The movement was from a small Jack Russell terrier. There was no movement from his owner. She stood there transfixed with shock. She'd a bit of a cheek bringing her dog up to our yard for his morning shite but the sight of dripping, naked Nelly put her off that notion for good.
When we move I'm going to have to get used to having a neighbour again as Bert's mother will be living close by in her all mod-cons mobile home. I've said to Bert that I'll be calling her 'the trailer trash next door.'
Before the house was built this property consisted of a rough lane leading to a derelict house. Some people living nearby would have used the lane for walking their dogs. While the house was being built a young fellow in his early twenties approached Bert to ask a favour. He told Bert that his dog had just died and asked if he could bury it near the old house as his dog had always enjoyed running about there. The following day Bert showed me where the young man had buried his dog. A piece of wood had been placed on the little grave and it was marked with the letters WNFY. We puzzled about this for a while but ended up deciding that the letters stood for We'll Never Forget You.
But that wasn't the end of the dogs and their walkers. Once when I was taking an early morning shower I realised I'd left my shampoo in the car. I grabbed the smallest towel in the world and partially wrapped myself in it. The combination of a small towel and my voluptuousness (or rotundity) did not make for a modest appearance but no matter - I was alone and the car was just outside the door. I ran out, opened the car and grabbed my shampoo. It was then I noticed movement to my left. The movement was from a small Jack Russell terrier. There was no movement from his owner. She stood there transfixed with shock. She'd a bit of a cheek bringing her dog up to our yard for his morning shite but the sight of dripping, naked Nelly put her off that notion for good.
When we move I'm going to have to get used to having a neighbour again as Bert's mother will be living close by in her all mod-cons mobile home. I've said to Bert that I'll be calling her 'the trailer trash next door.'
Monday, May 23, 2005
Soon This Will Not Be Ours
It occurred to me on returning home one day last week that this lane and my daily journeys up and down it will soon be in the past.
When the lane was built our old dog Danny got stuck in the concrete which was very funny. He got rescued from that one but his paw prints are in there somewhere.
Rosie dog loves to get out of the car at the bottom and race me up it. She can top 30mph sometimes. She won't be able to do that any more.
Nor will I be able to watch the trees that Bert planted grow big.
When the lane was built our old dog Danny got stuck in the concrete which was very funny. He got rescued from that one but his paw prints are in there somewhere.
Rosie dog loves to get out of the car at the bottom and race me up it. She can top 30mph sometimes. She won't be able to do that any more.
Nor will I be able to watch the trees that Bert planted grow big.
Progress Report
1. Daddy's condition has stabilised. He should be with us for a while longer. Anxiety and dread is easing.
2. The house-selling is also progressing well. Offers have reached a point where Bert's stress is lessening and Gordon Brown is rubbing his hands together with glee as he awaits the Treasury's cut from the vendor, the purchaser and the agent.
3. The house-renovation is also coming along well. We should be in by the end of July if all goes well.
That's all for now.
2. The house-selling is also progressing well. Offers have reached a point where Bert's stress is lessening and Gordon Brown is rubbing his hands together with glee as he awaits the Treasury's cut from the vendor, the purchaser and the agent.
3. The house-renovation is also coming along well. We should be in by the end of July if all goes well.
That's all for now.
Sunday, May 22, 2005
What's My World View?
 | You scored as Cultural Creative. Cultural Creatives are probably the newest group to enter this realm. You are a modern thinker who tends to shy away from organized religion but still feels as if there is something greater than ourselves. You are very spiritual, even if you are not religious. Life has a meaning outside of the rational.
What is Your World View? (corrected...again) created with QuizFarm.com Found at Baboon Pirates |
Hannah's Answers
Despite having no blog (tsk!) Hannah requested questions and has answered them thus.
1. What is your happiest childhood memory? Every Christmas morning cos we always got brilliant things and it was always nice waking up with all my family. 2. What do you like most about your job and what do you like least? Best thing is working with interesting people and worst part is I don't get enough hours sometimes. 3. Where would you like to be in two years time? Living and working in a different country and learning their language, maybe South America. 4. Describe in detail the best gig you ever attended. Hole - Brixton Academy 1998. It was the first gig I went to all on my own. Zoe walked me to the queue and I made my own way back. I was sick on the tube on the way back to Ganching's but not from booze probably just the sheer excitement. 5. Who was Princess Margaret? Mo Mowlam? I think Princess Margaret was the Queen's sister and Mo Mowlam was home secretary of Norn iron. 6. Favourite city? Why? At the minute Amsterdam because of good memories including my 21st birthday. It reminds me of feeling completely independent cos it's the only city I've spent time on my own in.Nelly's notes Question 5 was a bit of a piss take. Hannah may well be one of the best educated people to have come out of her uni as, in the course of her job as a Student Support Worker, she sits in on on lots of lectures and seminars on a variety of subjects. She says she cannot help learning new stuff. However when she were a very young girl her grasp on current affairs was slim. She caused much hilarity with questions such as "Who is Princess Margaret anyway?" Ditto Mo Mowlam. Judging by her answer she still hasn't got that one completely sussed. And she cannot even spell Northern Ireland. But way to go girl - your Momma loves you.
Friday, May 20, 2005
Mark's Questions
Here are the answers to some very reasonable questions from Mark
I enjoyed answering them.
1. What's the best part of your job?
Going home would be my glib and facetious answer. The real best part is when I hear that a former service user is doing well, is on track and sorted. It doesn't happen that often.
2. What's your fondest memory of childhood?
Playing in Paddy's Field near our house. Paddy's Field was actually four small meadows with a hazel wood and a good sized stream running through it. There was a wooden bridge, three cows and a little wooden gate just wide enough for a cow to pass through. The meadows hadn't been tilled in over a hundred years which meant it had every variety of wild flower. That sparked my interest in horticulture. The fields (and cows) were owned by Paddy, a great friend, who was happy to let us run wild in his fields.
3. How did you meet Bert?
I met Bert in a pub over 20 years ago. I had been on a daylong cycle trip and had called to the bar to see a friend who worked there. In walked the Wee Manny, his new South African bride and Bert. I'd known the Wee for years and he introduced us. Bert was doing a lot of travelling at that time. He'd just returned from living on an Israeli kibbutz and he was planning to spend a year in Australia. His hair was longish and sun-bleached and despite it being a warm summer evening he was wearing his grandad's out-sized tweed coat. I remember thinking he had a huge nose. I didn't meet him again for about two years. We got together some months afterwards and have been with each other for over 19 years.
4. Where's your favourite place in the world?
You mean apart from Cullybackey? The place that I have visited and would most like to return to is South Africa. That place got to me. I loved the heat, the dust, the big sky, the flora and fauna and the smell of it. Unfortunately some of the people I met there, the fairer skinned ones, were arseholes.
5. Still keeping to your keep fit regime?
That's gone a bit astray. I'll get back to it when my life steadies up again. Meanwhile I'm concentrating on keeping my mind and soul fit. The body will follow.
Questions set by M.Harrigan
I enjoyed answering them.
1. What's the best part of your job?
Going home would be my glib and facetious answer. The real best part is when I hear that a former service user is doing well, is on track and sorted. It doesn't happen that often.
2. What's your fondest memory of childhood?
Playing in Paddy's Field near our house. Paddy's Field was actually four small meadows with a hazel wood and a good sized stream running through it. There was a wooden bridge, three cows and a little wooden gate just wide enough for a cow to pass through. The meadows hadn't been tilled in over a hundred years which meant it had every variety of wild flower. That sparked my interest in horticulture. The fields (and cows) were owned by Paddy, a great friend, who was happy to let us run wild in his fields.
3. How did you meet Bert?
I met Bert in a pub over 20 years ago. I had been on a daylong cycle trip and had called to the bar to see a friend who worked there. In walked the Wee Manny, his new South African bride and Bert. I'd known the Wee for years and he introduced us. Bert was doing a lot of travelling at that time. He'd just returned from living on an Israeli kibbutz and he was planning to spend a year in Australia. His hair was longish and sun-bleached and despite it being a warm summer evening he was wearing his grandad's out-sized tweed coat. I remember thinking he had a huge nose. I didn't meet him again for about two years. We got together some months afterwards and have been with each other for over 19 years.
4. Where's your favourite place in the world?
You mean apart from Cullybackey? The place that I have visited and would most like to return to is South Africa. That place got to me. I loved the heat, the dust, the big sky, the flora and fauna and the smell of it. Unfortunately some of the people I met there, the fairer skinned ones, were arseholes.
5. Still keeping to your keep fit regime?
That's gone a bit astray. I'll get back to it when my life steadies up again. Meanwhile I'm concentrating on keeping my mind and soul fit. The body will follow.
Questions set by M.Harrigan
Thursday, May 19, 2005
Clearing My Head
Zoe reckons that clearing the roof space of years of accumulated junk will correspond to a clearing of my head. It had to be done anyways as we're selling the house. So that sweet girl came round this evening to help me with this task.
The amount of clothes and textiles both tat and vintage that we junked was unbelievable. At a rough guess it would probably have made at least £500 on Ebay. But who has got time for that? Not us. Instead we deposited a van load of it in a charity recycling bin in the village. I've lots for a bonfire and Ploppy Pants has requested some boxfuls of 'dacent stuff'' for his lodge's auction. He says he'll make a point of telling the brothers that they're receiving donations from the Catholics. If only Gerry and Ian could work together the way we do.
So now I've got an empty attic and it feels great.
Daddy is very comfortable this evening. He is still weak, still tired and still hardly eating. He received the last rites of the Catholic Church this afternoon. It appears to have done him some good.
The amount of clothes and textiles both tat and vintage that we junked was unbelievable. At a rough guess it would probably have made at least £500 on Ebay. But who has got time for that? Not us. Instead we deposited a van load of it in a charity recycling bin in the village. I've lots for a bonfire and Ploppy Pants has requested some boxfuls of 'dacent stuff'' for his lodge's auction. He says he'll make a point of telling the brothers that they're receiving donations from the Catholics. If only Gerry and Ian could work together the way we do.
So now I've got an empty attic and it feels great.
Daddy is very comfortable this evening. He is still weak, still tired and still hardly eating. He received the last rites of the Catholic Church this afternoon. It appears to have done him some good.
Wednesday, May 18, 2005
Brothers
My father was moved back to Randalstown yesterday. The move was hard on him and last night he took a turn for the worse.
My two brothers and I sat with him throughout the night.
It was good to witness the tenderness those two men showed towards our father.
Eventually Daddy settled and we spent the night in quiet conversation.
I have learned (from Vancouver brother) the significance of the recent bid to take over Manchester United and all that it implies for British football. I look forward to impressing Bert and his friends with some pithy insights. Thanks Eamon.
I have learned (from Younger brother) the ins and outs of the bouncing game. When asked if he did it for (a) the money, (b) to score women or (c) kick ass he answered 'At various times all three of those.' He also said it's not about muscle or brute force 'It's all in the head Nelly'. I shall apply that lesson to my own occupation. Thanks Joe.
I also learned about the power the Rosary has to calm and pacify an ill man to a peaceful sleep. Even when that prayer is being said by a family who last said it together around 1969.
We're all in County Antrim now. All seven of us.
Tuesday, May 17, 2005
Strange Days
These are strange days. Eight years ago were also strange days. Bert's father was dying. Had he survived he would have been the same age as my father is now.
Thirty-one years ago there were other strange and dangerous days. Pregnant with my first child I was fearful of the world into which I was bringing an innocent child. Ulster was at war; the Ulster Worker's Council strike was in full swing. I remember walking up our road on a thunder-threatening evening feeling a sense of complete dread about what the future would bring.
The first horrific news was that a young man from Cargin had been abducted and murdered. Our family knew his family. My sister knew him personally. He was a student at Queen's and it was thought he'd been hitchhiking when the people who ultimately klled him lifted him. Daddy and my sister attended the funeral, which was huge as funerals of those who die untimely deaths are. Several of Daddy's brothers also attended. It is told that one of my uncles remarked to another mourner on the size of the funeral. He is also supposed to have said that he hoped not to attend such a large funeral again. Within days he and another of my father's brothers had been shot dead in their pub as a direct consequence of the Ulster Worker's Council strike. Their funeral was massive.
Bert's father was laid to rest on June 1st, 1997. He was a good man. The day he was buried was dry and hot. The Crinodendron hookeranium was in full bloom. I will always associate those waxy lantern shaped flowers with that day. I wish he could have been with us longer but there are so many people who have not had the opportunity to see their beloved fathers and sons grow older. That is why I'll always be grateful for this extra time we've had with Daddy.
Thirty-one years ago there were other strange and dangerous days. Pregnant with my first child I was fearful of the world into which I was bringing an innocent child. Ulster was at war; the Ulster Worker's Council strike was in full swing. I remember walking up our road on a thunder-threatening evening feeling a sense of complete dread about what the future would bring.
The first horrific news was that a young man from Cargin had been abducted and murdered. Our family knew his family. My sister knew him personally. He was a student at Queen's and it was thought he'd been hitchhiking when the people who ultimately klled him lifted him. Daddy and my sister attended the funeral, which was huge as funerals of those who die untimely deaths are. Several of Daddy's brothers also attended. It is told that one of my uncles remarked to another mourner on the size of the funeral. He is also supposed to have said that he hoped not to attend such a large funeral again. Within days he and another of my father's brothers had been shot dead in their pub as a direct consequence of the Ulster Worker's Council strike. Their funeral was massive.
Bert's father was laid to rest on June 1st, 1997. He was a good man. The day he was buried was dry and hot. The Crinodendron hookeranium was in full bloom. I will always associate those waxy lantern shaped flowers with that day. I wish he could have been with us longer but there are so many people who have not had the opportunity to see their beloved fathers and sons grow older. That is why I'll always be grateful for this extra time we've had with Daddy.
Sunday, May 15, 2005
Katy & Granda
Katy emailed this photo the other day. She said it's one of her favourites. It was taken on the farm about twenty years ago. She's about six, he's in his sixties.
He was fighting fit then, now he's just fighting.
He was fighting fit then, now he's just fighting.
Friday, May 06, 2005
The Gathering Of The Clan
Daddy is very ill. Everyone is coming home. I'll take a bit of time away from this. .
Thursday, May 05, 2005
Bad Girl Rules
A young girl booked in recently after a big falling out with her Mama. A few nights with the Bad Girls scared her into making it up with Mama and going back home. Before she left she told us that she'd been given this advice from some of the inmates.
Which just about sums it up.
You'll do fine here as long as you keep to the rules. Our rules!
Which just about sums it up.
Wednesday, May 04, 2005
The Man In The Wardrobe
The first time I searched the room I missed him. Afterwards she came downstairs, full of herself, boasting to the others, "She must be blind. He was hiding behind the shower curtain and she didn't see him."
I'll admit to a certain level of blindness (or distractedness), I'll also admit to not wanting to discover a cranked up addict anyway. But she misjudged the others badly. Within moments Brig was in the office 'touting' on her. With heavy heart I headed back up the stairs. This would have been a good moment to phone the police but suppose Brig had got it wrong?
The moment I entered the room I knew he was there. My first clue was her dismayed face, the second his discarded size 10 trainers. Yet another good moment to phone the police but still I didn't for he might have been an easily dealt with wimp.
Not under the bed. Open the wardrobe door. BOO!
There he stood in his underwear, well built and as confident as a man in a wardrobe can be. I ordered him out. He swaggered across the room. He was very high. I threatened the police but he was unperturbed. "Sure the peelers know me anyway. Give me five minutes."
I left the room and phoned the police. They came and escorted him out of the building. She left with him. The police left. I hope the scary Wardrobe Man doesn't come back. The police are only five minutes away but five minutes is a long time.
I'll admit to a certain level of blindness (or distractedness), I'll also admit to not wanting to discover a cranked up addict anyway. But she misjudged the others badly. Within moments Brig was in the office 'touting' on her. With heavy heart I headed back up the stairs. This would have been a good moment to phone the police but suppose Brig had got it wrong?
The moment I entered the room I knew he was there. My first clue was her dismayed face, the second his discarded size 10 trainers. Yet another good moment to phone the police but still I didn't for he might have been an easily dealt with wimp.
Not under the bed. Open the wardrobe door. BOO!
There he stood in his underwear, well built and as confident as a man in a wardrobe can be. I ordered him out. He swaggered across the room. He was very high. I threatened the police but he was unperturbed. "Sure the peelers know me anyway. Give me five minutes."
I left the room and phoned the police. They came and escorted him out of the building. She left with him. The police left. I hope the scary Wardrobe Man doesn't come back. The police are only five minutes away but five minutes is a long time.
A Dream Holiday
I woke up far too early this morning and lay in bed thinking about the usual stuff - Daddy, selling the house, potential viewers, going back to work - but mostly about Daddy.
Then I fell asleep and into dreamland. I cannot remember my dream except it occurred on a bright warm day and featured two accquaintances called Muggsy and Cro. I wakened from it feeling all refreshed and contented and as if my brain had taken a holiday.
Then I fell asleep and into dreamland. I cannot remember my dream except it occurred on a bright warm day and featured two accquaintances called Muggsy and Cro. I wakened from it feeling all refreshed and contented and as if my brain had taken a holiday.
Tuesday, May 03, 2005
For Sale
At quarter past four I was sitting here reading the Portadown News when Bert showed a potential buyer into the room. That felt strange but I live to tell the tale.
This house selling process is very odd. It does not feel like our place anymore. It feels like a self-catering holiday house where I am the maid.
We've had eight viewers so far and according to the estate agent (Arthur Daley) there have been several enquiries about offers. So far none have taken the plunge.
But that very pleasant man that has just been seems keen. He is a lot more interested in the land than the house which is good. Although the house is sound it's plain and a bit shabby. This potential buyer brought his wellies and had a good tramp around. Afterwards he asked some very land-savvy questions - a good sign.
Another couple are coming this evening for a second look. Bert said first time around they arrived in an open top Porsche. I think I'll go visit with Bert's mum when they're due. We'll watch Emmerdale together - or something. Meanwhile Katy and Mark are in the Grouse drinking. They'd better be well-behaved when they get back - at least until the Porsche driving couple are off the premises.
Today I hoovered upstairs and got enough dog hair to stuff a mattress.
This house selling process is very odd. It does not feel like our place anymore. It feels like a self-catering holiday house where I am the maid.
We've had eight viewers so far and according to the estate agent (Arthur Daley) there have been several enquiries about offers. So far none have taken the plunge.
But that very pleasant man that has just been seems keen. He is a lot more interested in the land than the house which is good. Although the house is sound it's plain and a bit shabby. This potential buyer brought his wellies and had a good tramp around. Afterwards he asked some very land-savvy questions - a good sign.
Another couple are coming this evening for a second look. Bert said first time around they arrived in an open top Porsche. I think I'll go visit with Bert's mum when they're due. We'll watch Emmerdale together - or something. Meanwhile Katy and Mark are in the Grouse drinking. They'd better be well-behaved when they get back - at least until the Porsche driving couple are off the premises.
Today I hoovered upstairs and got enough dog hair to stuff a mattress.
Monday, May 02, 2005
Nothing Much To Say
...except
Katy and Mark are here for a week
My mother, her two youngest daughters and her youngest sister have gone to Lourdes for five days leaving youngest bro and myself in charge of the visiting schedule for Daddy...
who is still in hospital but is comfortable...
whatever that means. He hasn't eaten anything for six days but doesn't seem hungry.
And lots of people have visited our house. No offers have been made yet.
And I am feeling deeply stressed with lots of strange and unpleasant physical symptoms...
Which is why I have taken time off work..
and I am thinking very hard about not working in the caring field any more.
Because I feel I don't have enough caring inside me to go around.
I know the name of this place I live in now.
It is called Limbo.
I'd rather be at home.
Katy and Mark are here for a week
My mother, her two youngest daughters and her youngest sister have gone to Lourdes for five days leaving youngest bro and myself in charge of the visiting schedule for Daddy...
who is still in hospital but is comfortable...
whatever that means. He hasn't eaten anything for six days but doesn't seem hungry.
And lots of people have visited our house. No offers have been made yet.
And I am feeling deeply stressed with lots of strange and unpleasant physical symptoms...
Which is why I have taken time off work..
and I am thinking very hard about not working in the caring field any more.
Because I feel I don't have enough caring inside me to go around.
I know the name of this place I live in now.
It is called Limbo.
I'd rather be at home.
Sunday, May 01, 2005
Introducing Tatchie
It's interesting what turns up when, in an idle moment, one uses the dreaded words 'Willie McCrea' in a Technorati search. May I introduce, for your reading pleasure, from Lisburn City - Tatchie
Where's The Gospel Music Then?
Your Taste in Music: |
| 90's Alternative: High Influence |
| 80's Alternative: Medium Influence |
| Punk: Medium Influence |
| 80's Pop: Low Influence |
| 80's R&B: Low Influence |
| 80's Rock: Low Influence |
| 90's Hip Hop: Low Influence |
| Adult Alternative: Low Influence |
| Classic Rock: Low Influence |
| Dance: Low Influence |
| Progressive Rock: Low Influence |
| Ska: Low Influence The quiz was found here in Pirate Land |
Swisser, Bert and Nelly Have A Night Out
What can I say? I was entertained, moved, inspired, dammit - I was close to being saved.
These guys were way better than Willie McCrea.
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