I had to go out yesterday.
There were several jobs I had been putting off and suddenly one or two were urgent. So off I went on a round trip of half of Wicklow and a fair chunk of South Dublin.
The first stop was to top up on petrol for the car. I was a bit wary of this as I thought there might be a queue but no, all was fine. It surprised me a bit as I remember the glorious days back in the late 70s when there was panic buying and massive queues waiting to be given their ration of £10 maximum. £10 wouldn’t go very far these days as it’s hitting around €2 a litre and rising by the day.
Before I left on my expedition I ordered a top up of central heating oil. That was a moment for sitting down too. I’m rationed to a half tank and it cost more than a full tank a year ago. The poor old emergency funds are taking a hammering. I haven’t had a leccy bill yet but they are supposed to be giving us a gift of our own taxes to offset that a bit.
One of the tasks yesterday was to collect a mirror. For years now Herself has been grinding me down to get one for over the fireplace. She occasionally goes into Farcebook [she thinks that’s all there is to the Interwebs which is another reason I hate Farcebook] and she found a massive great mirror she reckoned was perfect and bought it. Naturally there was a snag – I had to collect it.
I arrived at the house to collect the mirror. “Will it fit in your car?” says the bloke I was buying off, which in hindsight was a damned good question. I hadn’t actually measured before setting off but I wasn’t going to go home empty handed. The fucking thing weighed half a ton but with a bit of a struggle I got it in with room to spare, though if it had been 2mm taller it wouldn’t have fitted [I measured it]. Either it was made for the car or the car was made for it. Neat.
It’s in the front room now but it’s on the floor leaning against the fireplace. It’s going to be some job to hoist it and fix it to a granite wall but that can wait on a very long finger.
It actually doesn’t look too bad.
Jayzus but I suddenly look old……
When I was a stripling people were advised never to mount a mirror above the fireplace.
Young ladies would check their appearance in said mirror and their dresses would go whumff. (Sound of cotton immolating)
I heard the same advice. I’m not bothered though as the last time the fire was lit was well over a year ago [I bet the fucking crows have built a nest in the chimney again]. And sadly there are few young ladies around here these days…..
In my humble opinion there are few actual ladies around period. In fairness; not many gentlemen either.
There’s only two of us left. But I’m not saying which two.
I appreciate that. It means there is hope for me yet.
Please take care not to break it or we will have 7 years of hearing about your bad luck – apparently. Although you can mitigate it by burying the broken bits by moonlight – also apparently, according to the same experts.
Like Doonhamer I also was warned about mirrors over an open fire.
My biggest fear was hitting a pothole while driving back with it. I had visions of finding shards of glass in the back of the car when I got home. Mounting it will be a bugger, so that’s the next danger time.