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Monthly Archives: June 2010

Thessaloniki, Burgundy, Shiny, Demolished

Broken heart

Monday 28 June 2010

“Why are you sending me texts like that?” Seán Óg complained over the mobile as I was dressing this morning.  Well I am not trying to annoy him – although I probably did so I was not aggressive or prescriptive towards him.  “I can’t turn!” he declared.  “It might be an injury?” I speculated.  God help him.  It looked as if I piddled on the floor in Ladywell as I waited for Monica Doyle.  It was water dripping off my Calvin Klein black and white golf umbrella.  The hungry looking one from Tallanstown noticed and put down absorbent paper on the little puddle.  Funny when she comes in to the waiting area at other times she averts her gaze and never seems to see me?  25 mg of Risperdal Consta in the right “side.”  Bought a blue barred T-shirt “Personal Gain” from John McShane, and a beige Farah collared T-shirt as well as a pair of underpants.  Called on O’Callaghan Travel in Boyd’s Shopping Centre and booked tickets to Thessaloniki.  Wrote to Peter Lehmann.  E-mail from Claire Woods.  Case closed.  Replied, “happy and relieved.”  Wrote to Ellen O’Hanlon thoughts on the showcase day in Muirhevnamor.  Thank-you note from her in reply.  “JJ is gorgeous,” Silvia wrote, “And he is a good photographer.”  Peace in the house because Rosanna was in town shopping and getting her hair done.  I gave her €60 cash to compensate her for paying Oliver Dullaghan for upholstering my Parker-Knoll, in burgundy with a spiral pattern.  I boiled half a packet of baby Scottish potatoes.  Ate tinned salmon from a plate in the fridge, the remnants of some tinned tuna, two vine tomatoes sliced, salad from the box in the fridge.  Then demolished all the potatoes with salt and lots of real butter.  For lunch.  In the evening Rosanna called me up from my siesta and gave me rashers and boiled cabbage which I followed up with a large microwaved Rooster ate with salt and real butter.  Pádraig Treanor rang postponing the “collection” until Tuesday evening.  I exercised a.m. and watered the flowers.  Not much sign of the Evening Scented Stock outside the front door yet?  Wore sky blue Greenore semi-polo T-shirt today, black shiny slacks, black Calvin Klein socks, chocolate Loake brogues, and carried brown Oakmont golf jacket for outer wear.  13.07 on Monica’s scales.  Spoke to Dr. Lyster passing and Martina McBennett in Ladywell both looking summery.  Called on Mary Mag this morning in St. Oliver’s.  Alert enough but tired looking even though it was early in the day.  Pushing her head back in the chair.  Reminds me of myself when I used to be unsuccessfully trying to sit, relax and pass the time when I was on Depixol.  Washed my teeth and retired to bed earlier than usual, soon after 23.00.  I ate weetabix and milk with sliced banana for breakfast, corn flakes sliced banana and milk for supper, and I consumed a big salmon sandwich made from two large heels of loaf bread for elevenses.  Drank mostly tea today and some coffee in the evening.

Oatmeal, Barrow, Ascended, Overloaded

Sick smile

Friday 18 June 2010

Well I think I got up out of bed around 08.00 and without a siesta I did not retire until 23.30 having had a busy day.  I dressed this morning in blue Greenore semi-polo T-shirt and vest, grey 42” slacks, oatmeal cotton working socks, working boots (which I kept on until bedtime).  I used my Oakmont jacket for outer wear in the evening.  Called on Oliver Dullaghan.  His mother’s name was Matthews and his grandparents are buried in Ballapousta.  He showed me different fabrics and gave me two burgundy colored samples to take home.  I liked the one with a spiral motif and wonder of wonders Rosanna agreed with me.  Oliver called at 13.30 and took away my Parker Knoll.  He said it would be a few days.  “You’d never know; I might have it ready tomorrow night!”  I carried on from Bellurgan into Lidl.  The young manager brought me down to where the white trousers were on display.  He gave me a 46 pair to try on and took my 42 pair from me.  I fitted the 46 pair on.  Tight; but not too tight?  So I took them with me.  The assistant at the checkout gave me back my receipt.  Bring them back if you do not want them he said or something to that effect.  Very professional and very German.  I did a bit of digging around the twisted shrub opposite the front door.  Roots but the soil was loose enough.  Rosanna lifted the weeds into her barrow as I dug.  I sweated in the mid-day heat, paused now and then, drank water, got the job finished.  When I cooled down a bit I mowed the front lawn with the mower on a high setting.  Rosanna gave me a substantial meal of tinned herring in tomato sauce, salad, Tagliatelle with lots of pesto.  When I finished the plate I took a second helping of pasta emptying the pot.  Padraic Treanor called at 18.40 and we delivered 22 letters from Jenkinstown Cross as far as Fidelis’ house.  Met nice people including Myra Duffy, Mrs Tuohy, Teresa Quinn’s daughter and her husband, Tom Flynn’s sons and one of their wives, Maura Duffy.  Invitation to Fr. Padraig Murphy’s silver jubilee on 28 July 2010.  Rosanna and I sat in the bar in The Crowne Plaza from 20.30 until 21.00 when we ascended in the lift up to the diningroom on the 13th floor.  She drank a glass of red in the bar while I polished off a bottle of sparkling mineral water.  Warm inside.  I took off my Oakmont jacket.  We were given a table overlooking DkIT and the setting sun streamed in from a few degrees west of the direction of Slieve Gullion.  Rosanna ate chicken supreme; I ate sea-Bass with tomato salsa.  Roast small potatoes.  Chips.  I stuffed myself.  I mean I really overate and the food was delicious helped by a large chunk of a juicy lemon.  We shared a chocolate fondue between us.  Rosanna drank two more glasses of house red.  I drank an orange juice.  We both finished with coffee.  The drinks downstairs cost over 7 euro and the total bill in the dining room was 69 euro.  Short German waitress.  Intense and vivacious.  She talked a lot to Rosanna.  She got a 9 euro tip.  The young manager, a Pole, stood at our table a long time speaking fluently and eloquently about the differences between Poland and Ireland, workmanship and buildings in Ireland and Poland, his plan to return to his native land.  I meant to advise him to go into politics but he was no-where to be seen when we left the dining room around 23.00.  I did not stay up long.  My stomach was overloaded and my energy was gone.  Washed my 5 ½ remaining teeth, brushed my dentures, went to bed at 23.50.

Dangerous Omen, Sardines, Link, Bin

Smile

Monday 31 May 2010.

Well the comical aspects of some of the incidents and some of the crack in Greenore yesterday seemed to be amplified as I watered the flowers this morning and my spirit was exceptionally warm dressed as I was in black robe, pajamas, Lotus flip-flops.  A dangerous omen?  I remember feeling like that in 1975 when my father was alive around the time I got my first breakdown.  Anyway I think I ate bread for breakfast with a mug of tea.  And I stayed around the house all day while Rosanna went with Pat Cluskey to Navan to caddy for her in some golf match – against Rush, I think.  I made my bed as usual this morning, exercised, washed, dressed; blue barred Kartel T-shirt, no vest, underpants, navy elasticized slacks with narrow blue striped braces, steel-blue Rival sports socks, chocolate Loake brogues.  I wore my Oakmont jacket later on in the cool of the evening.  Ate three boiled eggs for lunch, with salt and pepper and “butter.”  Finished off with two slices of brown bread (the last of the loaf Anne bought in Connolly’s Deli on Saturday); “butter” and marmalade; a mug of tea.  Took a 3 hour siesta.  Drove to Bellurgan Service Station where for nearly 8 euro I bought a carton of “butter,” 2 x 2 liters of milk, a sliced brown cottage loaf.  Prepared a dinner of salad, cherry tomatoes, pickled onion, olives, a small tin of sardines.  Delicious.  “Buttered” and put marmalade on two slices of the cottage loaf and ate all with a mug of tea.  Lovely.  I wore my burgundy Barker brogues to the shop and had a good chat with Carole Markey.  “It’s your job to punish people,” I concluded on the role of women.  “Well I suppose it toughens one’s skin,” I reflected aloud.  Olivia Finegan told me she was buying petrol to cut the grass.  “Have you your grass cut?” Carole asked me when Olivia was gone and that’s what started the conversation.  No fire lit today.  Rang Eamonn and wished him a happy birthday.  Rosanna complaining of a pain in her chest?  Spent a few hours on the computer.  Alan Byrne nor no-one else reacted so far to the link I sent to them of the showcase pictures.  Paddy Mac short and churlish on the phone this morning when I rang looking for Alan Byrne’s e-mail address.  Felt in good fettle this morning without any aches or pains after the golf.  I put on après sun last night and my head was not too badly burnt this morning.  I did a thorough washing up before Rosanna came home including the sardine tin, the empty marmalade pot, the plastic lidded container which held the oiled salad in the fridge; and swept the floor of the kitchen.  Left out the bin before dark.