December 31, 2013
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The WordPress.com stats helper monkeys prepared a 2013 annual report for this blog.
Here’s an excerpt:
A San Francisco cable car holds 60 people. This blog was viewed about 1,400 times in 2013. If it were a cable car, it would take about 23 trips to carry that many people.
Click here to see the complete report.
December 19, 2013
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Saturday 7 December 2013
Got petrol and €150 cash In Bellurgan Service Station. Rosanna went to golf soon after 12.00 and returned 19.30. She won the prize for the first day, last week. Scare over flights from Dublin. Some air traffic control problem in Britain. Rang Lufthanasa twice. Flight at 06.00 tomorrow confirmed. Weetabix and milk for lunch. Packed. The big case on wheels. Went to bed at 16.00 but did not sleep. Dessie rang and got me up. A long phone-call. Boiled three 4-minute eggs. Delicious with salt, pepper, creamery butter. I had also eaten some cold porridge from the pot, left over by Rosanna. After the eggs I consumed Weetabix and milk. Peeled and ate with a knife and fork a nice Tesco orange. Gums sore. Skin cut. Left dentures out altogether today indefinitely. Went to bed at 20.00 and slept till 23.30. Put in dentures for one last time to eat toast and drink tea. Washed teeth including sore lower left gum. Left dentures out and packed them in the toiletries bag in my big case. Could not find my white jacket. Did I leave it in the golf club? Did I leave it in Tesco? I’m getting used to losing things. Feels like I am losing my marbles. Anyway I later concluded that I had packed it already in my big case. Wore black “legal” slacks with holes in both front pockets, cappuccino Ralph Lauren golf socks, black boxers, white long-sleeved semi-polo Ralph Lauren golf shirt, black and grey Mizuno thermal golf gansy, cappuccino Ralph Lauren sweat-shirt, Oakmont brown golf jacket: Nike blue and white barred 20XI golf “woollen” cap. Packed my navy thermal gloves in my small bag. Lost my confidence in the approach and had to double back a short distance towards the roundabout to find the Red Express long-term car-park. Had to insert my UB credit card to gain access although the machine read my number plate 10LH1517. Pissed beside my car on the heavy gravel near the bus. The driver, of Oriental origin, offered to take me immediately to the airport when I told him I wanted to go to the toilet. In the event he waited for me while I relieved myself on the stony ground. Nearly lost my confidence again on the Lufthansa machine for producing boarding passes. It would not read my passport. However I came back to the machine, re-oriented the passport and the machine coughed up the two boarding passes like clockwork. John Anthony Crudden. I felt proud. “You’ll get your luggage in Bucharest,” the thin active blonde assured me when I checked in my big case. The lady in security said, “Take them off!” when I showed her my braces. I was left holding up my trousers but the scanner did not bleep when I shuffled through. The German security man in Frankfurt let me keep my braces on but the scanner protested when I walked though. I was called aside for a mannerly but thorough body search. An apple croissant and tea on the flight from Dublin. A moist soft tasty sandwich and orange juice on the way from Frankfurt to Bucharest. The driver of the 780 bus from Henry Coanda airport let me on and took me in his own cabin standing at the front window beside him because I had no ticket. He dropped me at Gara de Nord station off the Calea Grivitei. I gave him 10 RON for himself because I felt valued. A confident interested man’s man who was not afraid of me and did not despise me. The people standing around at the station seemed unwilling to guide me and the one man who tried to help was given a tongue lashing by a small voluble sour old lady and he, too, turned away from me. Taxi drivers buttonholed me and offered to drive me for 50 RON, then 30 RON, then whatever I liked. I insisted, “I am going to walk.” A woman in a florist’s kiosk pointed readily to the Hotel Ibis when I called from outside through her door. I gave 1 RON to a small young girl/woman sitting with her back to the wall of a bank on the footpath. She rubbed her stomach expressively indicating hunger. She was not satisfied with what I gave her but, at the same time, offered thanks. Piotr, Jerzy, Jolijn; in the lobby. Very warm in the hotel. I took a shower. Dressed in flip flops, new white tight-fitting trunks, Calvin Klein T-shirt, black “legal” slacks. Carried my cappuccino Ralph Lauren golf sweat-shirt. I had washed the very same T-shirt and dried it, the other day. There was a round of introductions and some business before dinner at 19.00. I had text’d Rosanna in the afternoon. “Hi Rosanna. Took shower in Hotel Ibis. Found white jacket in suit case. Love. Seán.” Now I brushed my teeth and painful gum and went to bed soon after 20.00. I slept well and I needed it. But I sweated a lot in the night. Next blue/grey long sleeved-pyjamas. I unpacked in my room completely today and hung a lot of my things on hangers in the “wardrobe,” many of them which I did not subsequently use.