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Monthly Archives: March 2008

Warm in The House


Sunday 30 March 2008

Eleanor Wehrly came over in the late evening and sat and drank some hot port which Rosanna gave her and chatted – Sr Leonie, Mrs. Peadar Hynes, Bertie, etc., etc.  "It’ll never be solved," I concluded about Sr. Leonie.  Sean Og rang on my mobile while she was there – he had 42 points, 1 over par gross, in Ardee today playing with Pat Magee in a fourball.  Pat played poorly, Og said.  Pat was using a new driver.  David Magee and John Ennis who were opposite them had a superior score, I gathered.  I was glued to the radio all day and stayed up to watch the politics program starting at 10.55 p.m. to hear the latest in the Bertie Ahern/Grainne Carruth saga.  Bertie has been silent and all the other players are watching their footwork.  I think Eamonn Dunphy on The Late Late on Friday night called him a perjurer and I think a few journalists repeated the canard in this morning’s papers.  In the afternoon I drove to Green Life driving range and hit 75 balls off the top deck with the Taylor Made driver, the 3-iron and the 7-iron.  €5.  Got the best results when I lined up totally straight and kept my head down and kept the ball back a little in my stance. The opposite to what I have been doing on the course lately.  I was hitting the ball as far, almost, with the 7 as I was with the 3?  Hit a few drives up the bank at the back fence.  Bought 3 pink Pinnacle balls with transparent covers for Rosanna.  €7.  Drank a coffee and ate a Snack and watched Liverpool v Everton on the wide-screen TV.  Rosanna suffering from a chesty cold got up rather late in the day.  Polished my Chelsea boots, my black brogues and also my burgundy brogues.  They were lined up beside my chair in the WEL when Eleanor came in.  Lit the fire in the WEL a.m.  A kinder day than the forecast lead me to believe it would be.  Did 220 bicycling revs before bed and also washed my teeth.  Pain in the front of my head when I bend down or when I sneeze.

Lonely Passion


Good Friday 21 March 2008

Morale and energy was not good in the morning so I went back to bed for another while after breakfast.  Rosanna and Aisling went down to Greenore to see Og’s house which Aisling had not seen till then.  "It’s alright," she said when I asked her later how she liked it, "the garden is nice."  "I have no garden," she said.  Jandering, I said to Aisling in the afternoon (when my confidence had been restored after the 3.00 p.m. liturgy in the church), "She was trying to pretend to Dellamar last night that everything is hunky-dory."  Rosanna was slightly apoplectic, I think, and she muttered with authority, severity and intent, "I’ll deal with you!"  The celebration of The Lord’s Passion went well in the church.  Brian Glynn read St. John’s account fluently, articulately, quietly, without undue emphasis and without any mistake.  The congregation voiced some of the dialogue such as "crucify him, crucify him" and I got a sense of participation abroad.  The choir sang two hymns at the veneration of the cross

1. Were You There?
 
2. The Old Rugged Cross.

I sang the opening bars of 1 as I walked back from kissing the cross.  Ann Murphy started before all the choir was in place – some of us were delayed because of the "Ambrose" effect i.e. people getting up before the choir were done.  The same thing happened at communion too to a lesser extent. 

The choir also sang two hymns at communion

1. Soul of My Saviour
 
2. God of Mercy and Compassion.

Aisling left for Dublin around 6.00 p.m. as far as I can remember.  Although I was slightly euphoric after the ceremonies because they went exceptionally well I became restless and uneasy later in the evening and washed my teeth and did 200 bicycling exercises before bed around 10.30 p.m.  Soon after that I woke from my sleep to hear Rosanna in her room on her mobile to Aisling.  There had been, I gathered, some kind of incident with Aisling’s car.  Aisling was afraid staying on her own for the night I gathered, too.  Rosanna said something about Sean Og?  Anyway the effect on me was to fill me with horror/terror and my sleep was colored all night by the lonely impression I got.  Gerry Woods came into the seat beside me and I asked him if he wanted to move "inside" which he did.  I did not sing at full throttle – all to better effect?  Fr. Padraig Murphy, the celebrant, has an excellent singing voice.  I observed the "fast" eating only a cheese sandwich during the day and in the late afternoon some pizza and garlic bread.  I ate honey nut corn flakes and milk for supper.  In the morning I had weetabix and milk.  Really what I had was four collations – I had no principal meal – and no meat.  Naturally I drank a good sup of coffee and, perhaps, a mug of tea.

Greenore and Mount Oliver


Wednesday 19 March 2008

Played 18 holes – starting at 13 at 11.00 a.m. with Alan Ratcliff.  Pulled a hired cart.  €3.  Scored approximately 90 for the round and did not lose my ball.  Shanked a bunker shot on 1 and shanked a chip on 12 – my last hole.  Annoying.  Lost my green and white umbrella on 13 and prayed to St. Anthony but it had not been handed in by evening.  Ulster girls’ team going out to practice.  They had the first tee booked until 11.30 a.m.  Alan played better than usual and won a few holes.  Rang Tom Hamill x2 in the morning and arranged for myself, Alan and his wife Briege to attend in Mount Oliver the celebration of "Passover."  I took no shower and sat in my golf clothes at the ritual between Ann Kieran and Alan Ratcliff.  Grape juice, bitter herbs, roast lamb and vegetables including potato.  About 80 attended including a party from the NW.  The ritual lasted from 7.30 p.m. until around 11.00 p.m.  I enjoyed it and got on well with Ann Kieran, I thought, although I was rather too warm in my moss green Greenore jersey and black shirt.

Dr Amy O’Callaghan


Monday 3 March 2008

Pain and discomfort in my right thigh during the night which was cold.  Snow.  Dressed in my grey Magee tweed coat, grey pinstripe shirt and grey Manchester United tie with brown slacks, tan Chelsea boots and black barred socks.  Wore gold cufflinks and sported in my top pocket an IMPERO black pen with gold trimmings.  Arrived in Ladywell at 2.00 p.m. and got quickly an injection of 25 mg of Risperdal Consta in the left "side" off Emmet.  He told me that Dr. Lyster is still out "sick."  She may be thinking of retiring he intimated.  Met Dessie parked outside the building at the road where I was to meet Dr Callaghan, a young woman doctor.  Dessie was driving Bridget O’Connor who was in to see the "doctor."  Friendly young doctor, quick on the uptake, gave me a six-month appointment.  Called in to Meehan’s.  Gary Morgan the young service advisor told me that the Yaris needs service only after 15 000 km.  I bought a red apron in Atlantic Homecare for €10.  Doubled back to Hill Street and got the Yaris washed for €6.  Bought a display book – grey with 40 "pages" – price €2.95, in Boyd’s.  Had coffee, lemon meringue and cream in The Copper Kettle.  Cost ~ €6.00 total.  Had eaten two singed but undercooked pork loin chops and some fried potato before I left home for town.  Met Rosanna at the exit of the bus station as I walked back in my peak cap and Bugati overcoat to LWSC car-park.  Rosanna threw tea over my display book and good clothes in the evening and annoyed me.  "I’ll put you through that door and I won’t open the door!" I threatened with some force.  I could not stick her auld tongue and retired to the sittingroom and the computer.  "Send a few e-mails to your girl friends," she taunted as I retreated.  I resolved not to travel with her up to Dublin tomorrow to visit Og.  I am not really in form and anyway I don’t want annoyance.  Udaras na Gaeltachta refusing to pay Aisling’s fee for the course she took last week in Galway.  Their excuse – she did not apply in time.  Can Dr. Callaghan picture the indignity of dropping one’s trousers for an unwelcome prick in the bum?  How does any mental patient escape that horrid, stigmatizing and degrading indignity and all the others that flow from it like stiffness, awkwardness, slight double incontinence, dry mouth, feeling older than one’s years, poor vision, attention deficit and restlessness as well as poor morale.  I had a dream last night of being a patient dressed in rough women’s clothes in an English mental hospital and in a lorry or was it a bus with a needle and serum piped like a mini petrol pump into my arm.  Dr McGrath who used to treat me in John of God’s came into it too.  The question was, "Is he dead?"  Put 9 pages into the display book with a neat "fit."  My journal for February 2008.