A day in the life

Head Rambles Posted on by 5

Well, I’m glad that’s over.

I had a spot of bother getting to sleep last night. I’m not sure whether it was too much or too little whiskey but I finally managed to drop off around three or half past.

Two hours later the fucking alarm woke me with its cheerless little melody [its the best of a very bad lot of ring-tones – the rest would wake me in a rage]. So we managed to down about half a cup of tea each and then hit the road.

Now my SatNav insists that the shortest way is over the mountains. That may be true but the roads are very narrow and twisty and there is an excellent chance of running head on into someone coming the other way. The second alternative is a considerably quicker and safer route but nearing Dublin it has a rake of fucking traffic lights so it gets congested easily. The third option is to head straight onto the motorway but that is potentially a car park so I decided to take the second rout and chance the traffic lights.

Herself had other ideas.

“Go in by the motorway.” The tone suggested that if I didn’t do as told there would be conniptions and blood spilt. I took the motorway.

Surprisingly we got there bang on a quarter past seven which was the given time for the appointment. Not surprisingly the place was almost deserted which at least meant I could park the car in the perfect spot just at the hospital entrance.

Herself was given the usual once over with machines that beeped a lot. The nurse said she was in for a knee replacement. Herself nearly shat herself. She wanted her knees replaced but not today! After some consultations with the specialist the nurse announced that she was just down for anaesthetic and a couple of deep joint injections. The nurse told me it would take about an hour so I fucked off in search of a coffee to wake me up.

I sat in the restaurant and had several coffees. The hour passed. I went for a walk outside and had a smoke [not pleasant because of the traffic fumes – very bad for my health]. Another hour passed. I went back up to the area where Herself was admitted, and sat in the waiting room and dozed. Another hour passed.

Eventually my mobile rang so I answered it. It was the nurse: was I at home? I said no; I was outside her door.

They gave me breakfast which was nice.

Now I had checked my calendar last night and discovered that my car test was at a quarter past one, and not eleven as I had somehow thought. It was only just after half ten so I drove Herself home. Dumped her in bed with a mug of tea and gave the dog a cuddle as she had been on her own [the cat doesn’t count as company in Penny’s opinion].

So back I went up the motorway and got to the test centre bang on one fifteen. When I checked in though he said my appointment was in fact for one forty five. I had put the wrong time in my calendar! I had a bit of a wait as it was lunchtime, and to make matters worse, I had left my pipe at home. Shit!

Anyhows I am back home. Herself is dozing in the bedroom, the car has passed its test [with flying colours], the dog has forgiven my absences and I am royally fucked.

I am taking the rest of the week off.

Or maybe the month?

A year?

I don’t like Mondays

Head Rambles Posted on by 9

The phone rang yesterday.

I answered it.

“Hello! May I speak with Herself please?”

“What’s it in connection with?”

“This is the hospital. May I speak with Herself please?”

“You can try, but if I bring the phone into her the signal is dicey so it’s unlikely you will get very far. I’ll tell her what she needs to know if you tell me.”

At this point we went into a rigmarole of identifying myself to prove I am indeed partnered with Herself. The silly woman phoned the house number so unless the house was full of strange men?….

“Could you tell her that her appointment with the hospital is confirmed and that she is to attend at seven fifteen on Monday morning?”

.”Er … could you repeat the time please?”

“Seven fifteen.”

“In the morning?”

“Yes.”

Fuck!

The head went into overdrive. To be in the hospital at seven fifteen I would have to contend with the fucking rush-hour. I should maybe explain that there is only one main road that links Wicklow and Dublin and that’s the notorious N11. That becomes a car park every morning and evening so people are starting to leave home earlier and earlier and some have taken to using the back roads as well. To get to Dublin at seven fifteen I would have to leave at fucking midnight! Herself won’t like that [and nor will I].

Then I remembered.

Monday is the day the car gets its annual test. It’s booked in for midday. That is going to be somewhat tricky. If Herself is finished in time, I’ll have to bring her to the test centre which means hauling her in and out of the car [I don’t think they do tests if there is a passenger stuck in the car?] which is difficult at the best of times. If the hospital isn’t finished with her, I’ll have to leave her there and nip over to the test centre on my own, get the test done and then nip back to the hospital again.

This is the stuff of nightmares.

I never should have answered that phone.

Pyrography

Head Rambles Posted on by 15

Until this morning I had never heard of the word.

Writing with fire? Ah yes – pokerwork. I had vaguely heard of that. The art of drawing on wood with a hot iron such as a poker.

Now I have a problem. What is it worth? Suppose you walked into a shop and saw the following wall hanging items on display. What kind of price would you expect them to be, or what would you be prepared to pay for them? Each is around 9cm wide but the heights vary.

  • Smaug
  • Owl
  • Deer

Just an idle query but I would be interested to find out.

Baby Deezus

Head Rambles Posted on by 4

Last Christmas I was getting out the stuff for the tree.

I came across some plaster figures of Mary, Joseph, a baby in a manger, a donkey and a cow. Purely for sentimental reasons I set them up around the base of the tree and thought no more about it.

Granddaughter the Younger of course found them. She pointed at the baby in the manger and asked “who’s dat?”. I toyed with a few answers that could have been fun but the kid was only three so I said it was Baby Jesus. I didn’t know what I had let myself in for.

For some reason she took a fascination with this figure, and would carry it around the house talking to it. Eventually of course I packed everything away including Baby Deezus. This discombobulated her somewhat and every time she visited she wanted to know where Baby Deezus had gone to. Picking her up from playschool I would get the inevitable question “are we going to Grandad’s house and is Baby Deezus there?”. Each time I told her that Baby Deezus had fucked off until next Christmas, though I may not have used those exact words.

We looked after her yesterday, along with Grandson the Younger [Daughter was in court again] and she started poking around in a few old boxes at the back of the bedroom. She came across an old crucifix and extracted it proclaiming that she had found another Baby Deezus, and that he hadn’t fucked off until next Christmas after all, though she may not have used those exact words.

I have a policy with my Grandkids that includes disillusionment and confusion. I teach them that they shouldn’t take things at face value and that it’s good to question just about anything. However I haven’t the heart to get into religious debates. I’ll let the schools teach them first and then I’ll let rip once they have left all that indoctrination behind and are old enough to debate properly.

In the meantime, I would like to see some future religion teacher’s face when Granddaughter the Younger insists that Baby Deezus is alive and well and living at the back of Grandad’s downstairs bedroom.

Childish

Head Rambles Posted on by 9

Well, it appears that Hawaii is the topic of the day.

The anti-smokers have come up with some remarkably daft ideas [which are all apparently “ground-breaking” and of course a “roaring success” even when they fail abysmally to have the desired effect].

The latest is of course Hawaii’s attempt to raise the minimum smoking age to 100.

The new bill, HB 1509, suggests that the smoking age should go up to 30 in 2020, 40 in 2021, 50 in 2022, and 60 in 2023 – until finally, in 2024, people would need to be 100 years old to buy cigarettes.

I have given this a lot of thought – about thirty seconds worth – and can see a bit of a conundrum here. Take the case of some 29 year old who enjoys a fag or ten. Currently that’s not a problem but if the new law comes into force he will suddenly be under-age until his birthday next year. He can then resume his pleasurable little pastime once more but only for a year when he has to stop again because suddenly he’s under-age once more. However, he only has to wait 69 years when he can once more resume.

Weird.

I thought the minimum age for just about anything was to set the age of reason. If you are above the minimum age you are considered to be an adult responsible for your own actions? This presumably means that in 2024 everyone in Hawaii is considered to be a child incapable of rational decisions? You only become an adult at 100?

Weird again.

I really am intrigued to know what they’ll come up with next…. .