Beep Beep Bang

Head Rambles Posted on by

this exploding pager lark is weird.

It just doesn’t add up. Or if it does add up it does so in a very strange way.

The plausible assumption is that the Israelis are behind it. Who else? So they come up with this wizard idea of putting explosives in pagers. But pagers are very small so these “special” pagers are going to be significantly larger than normal. So far so good, but how are they going to get those pagers to their intended targets. Do they pack them in crates and send them over the border addressed to Hezbollah? “Dear Hezbollah member. Please accept this kind gift from your friends in Israel”.

So maybe they manage to send the crates using some way of obfuscating their origin. Maybe they used Amazon? And how did Israel know that only Hezbollah members would pick them up? I know Israel is quite happy to slaughter quite a few innocent men women and children to get one Hezbollah member but it does seem very random.

And were Hezbollah not surprised when this batch of pagers suddenly appeared out of the blue? Unless they ordered them? From Israel?

No one apparently opened a pager to see why it was a bit bigger? We all know that man thing? Something new appears so any man worth his salt is going to take it to bits to see how it works? It’s hard coded into the male genome.

so they all just sat around with their new pagers.

Until of course the Israelis sent that fatal heavily encoded plain text message to all pagers.

“Fuck you, Ragheads”

 

Appointments

Head Rambles Posted on by

Yesterday Herself came home and the compliment of the Manor is complete.

There was some confusion as to who was to drive where, but in the end I collected her, VGF was here to welcome her and to unpack the car and then Daughter arrived to finish the unpacking and to cook us dinner. Peace then descended on the Manor.

So now in theory we get back to our old routines and life will continue as it has done for years.

Except for the appointments.

It’s one of the outfalls from my little cancer attack. I have an apparently unending string of appointments which frankly can be quite confusing.

Tomorrow I have my physiotherapy. I don’t mind that one as it’s a pleasant experience, it’s in the village and I might get a coffee shop visit slotted in after.

Friday I have another one in St.Vincents. This is a strange one. I got an irate phonecall yesterday wanting to know why I hadn’t attended last Friday. I told her that I had phoned and had been assured there was no appointment until the 23rd. She then went into some explanation that her appointments are different from any other and that they don’t appear on the books. So now I have a new one on Friday but she can’t either write to confirm or send a text. The meeting is apparently a sort of introduction to Immunotherapy, whereas the official appointment on the 23rd is actual Immunotherapy. Confusing? I’m confused.

Then next week I have yet another appointment, again in St Vincents to meet the Professor and his team to have some work done on my neck. That’s on top of yet another physiotherapy appointment.

So my appointments fall into two patterns. Physiotherapy, as I said is in the village with a chance of a coffee shop visit while the rest are all in St Vincents. The bonus there is the new car which I thoroughly enjoy driving and I get a chance to enjoy it. The downside is that they all involve very long [for me] walks which I find exhausting. In my youth I never dreamed that one day I would depend so much on a fucking crutch. Maybe I’ll start robbing Herself’s Rollator which is one of those four wheel walking aids with a built in emergency seat.

Actually I don’t know why I didn’t think of that before.

 

Homecoming

Head Rambles Posted on by

Today is a big day.

Shortly I will be heading off into the bowels of Wicklow to collect Herself.

She has been held incarcerated until such time as I am supposed to be able to look after her. I am supposed to be her carer after all.

Am I ready? Time will tell. I’m still a tad shaky on the legs and have to use a crutch occasionally. I also tire very easily which is a pain in the hole.

It’s a long time since she has seen the Manor – ten? twelve? weeks, maybe more.

I just hope she doesn’t expect some of the treatment she has been enjoying for the last while – sing-songs, barbecues in the garden, tai chi lessons, hair and nail makeup?

She’ll just have to make do with cancered, knackered old me……

 

It’s all a matter of time

Head Rambles Posted on by

I am living in a state of mild confusion.

Since my recent “holiday” courtesy of the health service I have completely lost the notion of time.

I discovered partly by accident that sleeping in my armchair is not only very comfortable and painless but gives a reasonably good sleep. It does have its drawbacks though. The principle one is that I now tend to sleep when I am tired with no regard for the norms of day and night.

I was asleep earlier when Daughter arrived. She’s now used to her Old Man sitting unconscious in the armchair and didn’t bat an eyelid. But when I woke I hadn’t a fucking clue as to the time. Was it early morning? Had the entire day slipped by while I was asleep? As it transpired it was three of the clock or thereabouts and I hadn’t a clue whether this was mu=y first entry into the day or had I been awake earlier? There were actual clues that I had been awake such as the fact that I had completed the download of the nightly backups of the websites. i had no memory of doing this.

Some of you may have noticed that quite a few of my brainfarts have been appearing in the [relatively] early morning instead of the usual afternoon efforts. This is all part of it. I probably thought it was the afternoon at the time.

I did post one drop of utter trivia late last evening [I think it was] but that was actually deliberate. My little listing of Martin Scriblerus posts failed for no apparent reason. This site suddenly couldn’t see the other site, or rather the other site suddenly decided to block this one. It was a pain in the hole as there was no apparent reason for the breakdown. I ended up having to do a lot of work on this database and write new code to bypass Martin Scriblerus altogether. My little brainfart was by way of a test, and it works.

It’s now after four and not a child in the house washed.