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Category Archives: Health and wellness

Tense; Stone-Baked; Skied; Unworthy; Rosary Beads

Thursday 12 May 2011.

A kind of a tense day on which I was stressed and uptight. Kevin McGeough gave me directions to Finbarr Oakley’s place when I met him in Glenda’s where he drank cappuccino and I quaffed some of a bottle of apple juice. I opted for the bottle when the girl came over and showed me the bottle. “The bottle is €4 and a glass is €2,” she informed me. Kevin paid saying, “You bought me my breakfast last week!” Ate ¾ of a stone-baked pizza which Rosanna bought yesterday in Lidl. Nicely cooked, quite tasty; with a glass of apple juice: for lunch. Packed my kit into my iQ and made my way over to Oakleys’. Mary and Barry there. Finbarr did the donkey work and transferred my bags, shoes, trolley into his 2010 diesel Toyota Avensis. We reached Bettystown far too early for the 17.10 start. So we had coffee, chipped a little, putted. Then I sat for 10 or 15 minutes in the sun on the chair outside the pro shop under the 1st tee until our opponents Conor Carnegie and Gerry Quinn turned up. I skied a good few drives and pulled most of the others; missed 2 short putts. We 4 putted 18 but our score was 85 gross. Conor and Gerry had an unspecified score, higher than ours, but both of them played better golf than I did. Finbarr hit some great drives and irons, particularly 5 or 6 6-irons. We scored 6 on the first par 3 hole and generally had a poor return on the par 3’s. Both Aisling and Dessie rang on my mobile when we were coming off the 17th and Finbarr and Conor pitched a few balls from behind the hillock onto the 18th green. So concentration levels dipped and the rules of golf flew out the window. Took no shower at all today and did not exercise a.m. Dressed as yesterday except that I wore Hush Puppies black brogues. Wore Brendan Tinnelly’s ball maker on the peak of my cap. Very handy. Putted using the set up Alison Nicholas used for chipping on Monday in Blackrock. Quite good results. I drank a pint of iced tap water and ate a dinner of cod goujons nicely cooked, coleslaw, tartare sauce, salad, chips. The journey home was accomplished, it seemed, in an instant. I shouted at Finbarr when he was pulling off the M1 because I could not believe we had already reached the Ballymascanlon Roundabout. I consumed corn flakes, 1 ¼ sliced bananas, milk; for supper. To bed before 01.00. Depressed and dejected after the golf but I did not feel tired. Not as easy to manage the Powakaddy trolley in Bettystown as it is in Greenore. Conor is getting a new trolley with a range-finder in it; and a set of Mizuno irons. Finbarr’s name and mine first out of the hat for the qualifying round of the Pierce Purcell Shield on Saturday. I felt intimidated, worried, unworthy. However Finbarr is playing well. “You will have to cancel the choir on Saturday!” Kevin Gallagher, team captain, exclaimed. I sang dumb. Handed the blonde girl in Glenda’s a pair of rosary beads from Medjugore which I found in the stones at my feet as Kevin and I stood talking outside the shed while he had a drag before we departed. Lovely hanging baskets on display hanging from vertical ropes in the shed.

Assortment; Pregnant; Blank Cheque; Green Cap; Cork


Sunday 24 April 2011. Easter Sunday

Journalled in the morning. Did not shower or exercise. Made bed, washed face, dressed. White FootJoy T-shirt, silver Robbie slacks, black/green/ red braces, glasses, fawn non-elasticised cotton socks, Grenson Chelsea boots. Wore white FootJoy golf jacket to Greenore. Bought an assortment of chocolate bars in McCrystal’s including a Snickers Duo for myself from Alan Raeburn. Lisa heavily pregnant weeding the hedge in her garden in Greenore. Trés, her sister, made tea and gave me some cake she baked herself. Gavin talked to me. Seán Óg looking more rested and relaxed than usual. 5 ½ weeks since his surgery. Gave a blank cheque signed by Lisa to Graham in the bar in the club. Her sub. Walked back to her house and gave the receipt to Lisa. €770. Lost my green Greenore golf baseball cap. Bought a comfortable light sky blue Nike baseball golf cap from Robert Giles just before I headed out to practice before teeing off at 12.30. €15. Shane Farrell scored 81 – 13 = 68; His dad, Brian, scored 81 – 8 = 73; Me 89 – 15 = 74. Aisling was supposed to call today but didn’t. Filming in Tipping’s Wood with Pádraig McGovern. Ate Snickers before golf and on the 13th tee a ripe banana Brian gave me when I pulled up in the car park before going out to golf. Ate a chicken salad for dinner followed by a juicy large sweet orange. Made and ate a bowl of porridge with Golden Syrup. Corn flakes, sliced banana, milk; for supper. Apricot wheats, milk; for breakfast. Bowels in copious motion this morning and again when I landed in the golf club. Cork crept up from 7 points down in the League Final to pip Dublin by 1 point. Luke Donald lost a playoff at The Heritage to Brandt Snedecker who finished with 64 the best round of the day. Lee Westwood won in Thailand. Louth defeated Westmeath last night in Croke Park. The Division 3 final. Met Seamus McParland on the 12th tee bullshitting about Eric Hynes. Pat practicing his chipping to the old 13th green as we passed by going up the 17th fairway. Big “Hello!” to Dermot Maguire before the start. They were in front of us but out of sight all the way. To bed 00.15. Rosanna in Greenore late where she went to visit and to see Greenore lose to Ardee in the Senior Mixed. Peter McEnaney retrieved my green cap from underneath the bar immediately I enquired. When I came up into the bar again after keying my score into the computer in the locker room. Drank a pint of iced tap water with a slice of lemon. No coffee. Brian and Shane ate before going back to Dublin.

Photography, Paranoid, Fillet, Cursing

Monday 14 February 2011.

Met Brian Crombie in the clinic and talked about photography. He is on a full-time course in DkIT on the subject. I invited him out for a game of golf when I was leaving after my painless injection of 25mg of Risperdal Consta in the right “side.” He “went away” from me and declined? Weighed 13.07 on Monica’s scales. Sat for 15 minutes beside Mary Mag in Saint Oliver’s. She seems to me to be suffering from medically induced distress. She is not relaxed and she is not fully herself. However she definitely has not lost her marbles because she knew exactly who I was talking about when I mentioned my brother Jimmy. But then I cannot ask about Mary’s treatment or make any representations on her behalf. I would only succeed in embarrassing both her and myself and more than likely produce a bad result. And in any case my opinion may be only a paranoid delusion. I gave her an elliptically lidded box of Carnival sweets which I purchased for €5 from Carole Markey. “Did you send a card to your Valentine?” Carole had asked. “I am having trouble with my Valentine!” I answered honestly. Called to Meehans. John Lucas brokered an arrangement with Kevin Thornton for Kevin to collect my iQ on Wednesday to have the steering computer upgraded and to repair the scratch on the back off-side wheel arch and to return the iQ to me on Kevin’s way home from work. Met Daniel Merrigan in Lidl. He and his girl-friend are expecting a baby next month. I was going to ask about football but it seems out of the question now where he is concerned? More’s the pity. Milk 2x2l, 2.98; Smoked Herring Fillet, 2 tins, 2.58; Sardines in Tomato Sauce, 2 tins, 0.98; Thick White Pan Loaf, 0.65; Jumbo Sponge Cake, 2.39; 4 Fruit Scones, 1.09; Moisturising Cream, 2.49. Total €13.16 which I paid with my UB debit card. Dessie had pulled away when I turned round after replacing my trolley. Lunch was a mug of coffee, 2 buttered scones, an orange. For tea I fried some mashed potato in butter and also added broccoli. Consumed this along with a tin of filleted herring which I did not heat. Tasty. I think I ate an orange as well at this meal. Although I had a siesta before I cooked and ate my energy did not last long. Anyway my little sleep was restricted at both ends by a call from Aisling on the house phone and, later, a call from Dessie on my mobile. He reminded me to ring The Strand. I talked to Maura: ordered Irish Stew; Apple Tart and Ice-cream; for 8, for Saturday. Worked out easier than I expected. However my energy drained away again, as I said, and when the 5-way leaders’ debate came on at 21.30 I sloped off to bed cursing Eamonn Gilmore without washing my 5 ½ remaining teeth. As far as I can remember I ate weetabix, sliced banana, milk; for breakfast: corn-flakes, sliced banana, milk; for supper. Exercised this morning having made my bed. Washed; dressed in clean white underwear, white FJ golf T-shirt, grey braces, black 44” slacks, black FJ golf socks, black Clarks brogues, green/black light Regatta fleece, glasses. Wore my navy old Le Coq Sportif jacket for outer wear with my black woollen Greenore golf cap. “You are dressed in your golf gear?” Monica remarked in the clinic when I was replacing my clothes after the injection. I did not bother to contradict her. I ate a few slices of the sponge from a soup-plate using a tea-spoon in the evening with a beverage of tea or coffee. Rich and sweet with no aftertaste.

Dentures, Mental Illness, Missing Person, Veritas

Christmas Day, Friday, 25 December 2009

I am writing this journal entry at 22.00 on St. Stephen’s Day and from memory alone. I wrote no notes last night because Aisling, Rosanna and I sat in the livingroom until midnight and swapped some home truths about the Joyce family; Aisling’s predicament; mental illness; Paul’s seamy, clichéd tactics (he discussed Aisling earlier with her mother on the phone); Fernando; etc. I pointed out that while Rosanna overvalued Sean Og and Eamonn she undervalued Aisling and shifted blame and guilt on to her. "Aisling has a problem," Rosanna is inclined to chorus along with Paul. Aisling is depressed and that is the cause of her anger, Professor Rosanna diagnosed. Aisling had slammed doors when Rosanna was on the phone with Paul and the bottom right hand pane in the WEL connecting door cracked under the strain.

Anyway I slept well last night and rose at 7.55 in the dark on a very cold frosty morning. Ate corn flakes and milk and turned on the heat. Then I washed (my face only) and dressed. Underclothes, Le Coq Sportif white T-shirt, cream long-sleeved poplin shirt, red gansy that Leah gave me a few Christmases ago, black 44" slacks, black FootJoy golf socks, tan John Evan boots. Cleaned out and lit the livingroom fire. Wore my navy long Bugati overcoat to mass and my black woolly Greenore cap on my noggin. Carried in my pocket the small bottle of Bailey’s for Ann Murphy. Walked over in the cold crisp frost leaving the house at 8.55. Chapel deserted and securely locked. Walked round the church and had a chat with John Finnegan on the other side. Despite my Thinsulate gloves the cold was creeping in to my little fingers. Walked round the front again and Vera Rice pulled up. She had not seen Eva either. So I went down to Bellurgan with her in her car and we tried rapping the door and the windows of Eva’s cabin. Eventually I got my head slightly in the window of her bedroom. The bed was empty and neatly dressed. So I thought something might have happened Eva last night.

Vera walked ahead of me into the open church. "She’s here in the vestry!" Vera called back to me. Most of the choir was in place already by this time but my usual space inside Sean Caraher was open. I walked around to Ann Murphy and stood beside her. "Have you a bag, Anne?" I asked. She did not react so I repeated the question. Then she turned around and reached for a bag from under the seat at the wall behind her. "That’s the bag I keep the sheets in," she remarked. I slipped the bottle of Bailey’s in to the bag and circled away to my seat. Someone saw what I did and there was a little kee-hoe.

The children sang a few hymns before mass but the adult choir was not called in to action as it usually has been on other Christmases.

· Adeste Fideles

· Silent Night

· When We Eat This Bread and Drink This Cup

· O Holy Night. Mary’s Boy-Child

· Joy to the World

The singing was quite adequate. My teeth almost projected out of my mouth on the first chorus in Mary’s Boy Child which the men alone sang. This was the only real bad faux-pas throughout. O Holy Night was lively and true. I came in fast at the start of the chorus each time so things did not lag. There was a children’s pageant during mass and Christine sang When A Child Is Born from the centre of the church up near the altar. The choir hummed but I did not join in. I thought it was a bit obtrusive. I think the church was not as full as last year. There was a good deal of noise with children crying. I was not as keyed up as usual and but for one mistake and a little unsteady high note in Silent Night I thought I did well. Fr. Padraig Murphy celebrated and he preached a longish sermon which no-one was listening to. He termed the nativity "a shabby scene" i.e. if one interpreted his remarks in a certain way. A brand new crib – built I think by Frankie Duffy’s son – dead centre at the front wall of the church. I gave €10 in a buff envelope marked "My Gift to the Priests" taken from the weekly envelope box.

I relaxed beside the fire and tried to forget the humiliation of the incident with my teeth. Teresa B rang from work in quite good form. Teddy rang, too. Gerardine was working. He told me Claire went in to hospital last night. He seemed to think matters more serious than the impression Teresa B conveyed to me. I tried to ring Jimmy’s house at least once later in the day but did not get through. Aisling rang around 13.00 and said she would be here in less than an hour. I took the call and told her I was delighted but went ahead and ate my dinner alone in the livingroom. Rosanna waited to have hers with Aisling. Soup; turkey, ham, gravy, mash, stuffing, Brussels sprouts, broccoli. I used a lot of cranberry sauce but I could get very little taste off the turkey which I thought was dry and a little stringy. Anyway I had eaten after mass while Rosanna was at 11.30 mass in Ravensdale the remainder of yesterday’s round roast with salt and I followed it down with a little Gorgonzola. Piled the remainder of the brandy whipped cream on a bowl of trifle. Shortly before dark Rosanna drove to Greenore. I brought the packet of 6 oranges I bought yesterday in Tesco. I cut it open with the Spanish scissors before we left Jenkinstown. I ate a Lindt chocolate sweet in Greenore and a Magnum icecream on a stick. Also peeled and ate one of my own oranges. Rosanna drank Baileys. Lisa gave me two framed pictures, one a photo of Gavin, another a traced drawing by Gavin of his own hands and fingers. She also gave me a navy Regatta fleece. I noticed there were no animals with the crib on the table in the hall. It looked elegant but spare. I felt Veritas had ripped me off when I bought it and wondered if it was worth my while to ring them. Text after I got home from Lisa thanking me for the socks I sent down with Rosanna yesterday. I replied concluding, "Love and regards." Rang Og a little later and told him Brian Farrell who rang me this morning had told me to wish him a happy Christmas. I rang Anne from the sittingroom in Greenore. She and Patrick were looking at my picture gallery on a new lap-top I think. I think I ate another bowl of trifle and whipped cream when we came home from Greenore. I think Aisling gained a little courage and insight from my conversation tonight and I felt a degree of self-satisfaction. Rosanna was livid. She threatened to leave. Then she went out and banged doors and brought the new Rossa putter I had given her for Christmas complete with red and yellow head cover in from the boot of her car to the livingroom and returned it ostentatiously to me. She threatened to fling it in to my room and maybe she was going to do that but she crashed painfully into a heavy diningroom chair in the dark in the hallway on her way to bed. I did not enquire if she was all right. In fact I did not open my mouth. It was warm in the bed – much milder than last night – and overstimulated I did not get to sleep until the wee small hours. I washed my teeth before I went to bed. I did no exercise today. Felt a little overweight, stiff and out of condition. Lisa got a new coffee making machine for Christmas and she showed it to me before we left Greenore this evening. Took no siesta today. Sent an e-mail to Joe Crudden before lunch today.

Swine Flu, Director of Fraud, Apple Crumble

Tuesday 4 August 2009
Up at 9.30 in depressed mood not looking forward to the day.  Had intended to call on Mary Mag after the clinic but did not feel in form. 13.13 on Emmet’s scales.  Had not eaten lunch.  Emmet gave me a description of the effects of Swine flu.  Respiratory failure possible in some cases.  Got an injection of 25 mg of Risperdal Consta in the right "side" off Emmet at about 14.00 and arranged my next appointment for Friday 21 August at the same time.  Left my card with Doctor’s appointment for 7 September with Emmett for a refix because I will be going to Italy on 6 September for 12 days. Was thinking of going to Conlon’s Food Hall in LWSC for an omelette but changed my mind.  Good decision.  Rosanna gave me chicken Kiev, baked beans in tomato sauce, and I also ate two microwaved medium sized potatoes peeled with butter and salt.  The meal saw my stomach right for the first time in days.  Rosanna had been in Town in the morning dealing with the painter in No 13 Oaklawns and she also got her hair cut coloured and set.  My disposition downcast in the morning – feeling bad and I did not know why.  Was it iron deficiency?  Was it dependency on Risperdal?  My head mild and my eyes more relaxed than usual, however. Dressed in tan John Evan Chelsea boots, black Argyle socks, grey T-shirt with green Puma legend, grey small check 44" slacks, EverLast track suit top.  Carried glasses.  Parked across the road from the gate of The Louth and walked to the clinic.  A drugs counsellor sitting in the waiting area in Ladywell.  He was enquiring whether there was an addiction clinic being held today.  There wasn’t.  A young nurse or doctor went "in" after we asked him and came "out" again (rather helpfully) with some information.  He was not sure.  A two page letter from Adrian Stearns, Director of Fraud (sic.), MBNA, upset my equilibrium.  Apparently my credit card number may have fallen into the wrong hands.  So he proposed to cancel my card on August 11 and issue me with a new one in 7 to 10 days from then.  The letter stated that there was "no need to call us" but I was worried about its authenticity for one thing so I rang.  A respondent called "Joe" returned my call and dealt with me as courteously as an old friend.  He cancelled my card there and then and said a new one would reach me in 7 to 10 days time.  A better arrangement?  Anyway I felt better about it.  "You have set my mind at rest!" I assured Joe.  It is surprising how much a simple thing like that affected me.  The injection did not lift my mood very much and I took a siesta from 16.45 till 19.15.  I exercised this morning at 10.00 and I exercised again tonight immediately before I got in to bed at 23.30.  I washed my teeth tonight and having made my bed performed my usual ablutions this morning and applied 1 Million.  Aisling text’d (I did not notice the text) and rang asking me to drive her to the airport tomorrow.  She is to come down from Dublin in the morning.  Ann McParland rang and earlier Kieran McGoey.  The upshot was that Rosanna and Kieran play Ann and Peadar McParland on Thursday evening at 16.00 in the club mixed.  Rosanna was able to open the site for tee times in Greenore with the password Michael McDonnell gave her on Monday night to check that the time for the match was booked.  I think I watered the flowers this morning despite my mood.  Arranged by text to meet Kevin McGeough in Ballymac for coffee at 11.00 tomorrow.  Two helpings from a dish of apple/rhubarb crumble which Rosanna brought over from Eleanor Wehrly’s eaten in the evening also agreed with my stomach.

Controversy, Spuds, Wimbledon

Sunday 5 July 2009

Up around 8.30, ate muesli and milk, watered the flowers, made my bed, washed, applied 1 Million, dressed the same as yesterday. Got a few coins off Rosanna and put €5 in the envelope for the priest. Attended 11.30 mass in Ravensdale sitting in the inside corner of the back seat in the Jenkinstown aisle. No choir. A recording of Be Still was played at communion. Second anniversary for Paula Connor. Joe Carroll in attendance. Went in to the vestry after mass and gave Fr. Padraig Murphy PP the book by Ben Barnes, Plays and Controversies. "I meant to bring you up something the last night when I was in your house," I explained. He asked me about photos of the mission for some Redemptorist publication. "I have one presentable photo!" I told him. He promised to ring me tomorrow with the e-mail address to send the photo to. A happy, mobile atmosphere in the vestry. Prepared lunch for myself – the remnants of some salad, two smallish soft apples, a piece of Wensleydale. Visited Jimmy O’Neill. Had bought for €4.95 a small container of Cadbury’s Roses in Bellurgan Service Station. "Is there a girl called Markey working in this shop?" I asked. "Carol," the young assistant replied. "Karl Marx." Jimmy was awake. "I’m all gummed up!" he remarked as he lounged in his chair. His eyes, too, were gooey. He did not know me and I think, really, he was a bit paranoid about me and was relieved when I got up to go. "He did not know me? Is he on medication or what?" I asked as I left. The young assistant (a Latvian?) withheld her opinion and gestured towards a short dark Irish charge hand. "It’s his condition," the other one said confidently, "Some days he knows people – some days he doesn’t." "He’s better than the last day I was here," I continued, "He was asleep that day and wouldn’t waken up." "If you had come a few minutes later he would be asleep today too," the short one elaborated. "The spuds!" she remarked with knowing certitude. Travelled without error to and from Ashgrove Nursing Home via the M1 and the by-pass in my black 2007 Toyota Yaris Strata. Followed some of the Wimbledon men’s final on Yahoo. Eventually retired for a long siesta – my head beginning to act up again. It turned out Federer beat Roddick 16 – 14 in the fifth set – his record 15th grand slam victory. I was pleased because I like Fed. Got up at 21.10 and ate muesli and milk and wrote up the last two days of this journal in my New York Yankees leisure-wear, black robe, Lotus slippers. Downloaded in the afternoon some of the pictures I took yesterday in Og’s in Greenore from my Fuji FinePix 9500 S onto the computer and uploaded a few pics onto Sean’s space. Rosanna went in to No 13 Oaklawns in the afternoon and did a little shopping. I ate before my siesta some of the apple-tart she brought home with her.

“Dada” Funeral, Salad, Conversation, McHugh Cup

Saturday 30 May 2009

Made my bed, exercised, washed, dressed in white shirt, navy golf slacks, blue Argyle socks, black brogues, Kennedy McSharry jacket with black and white small squares pattern, black tie with small white rectangles pattern.  Although I exercised I felt a bit stiff and overweight.  Lovely day.  Drove out the M1 to Fatima church for the funeral of Gerry Sherry – Claire Wood’s father, RIP.  Margaret Harmon had informed me about it in a courtesy call on Thursday or Friday.  She also told me that Seamus McGuinness had died suddenly on holiday abroad.  RIP.  I parked inside the gate of the church and walked anti-clockwise around the building looking for the toilet.  A tall dark angular woman was opening the door of the church as I came round.  "Is the toilet outside or inside?" I queried.  "Oh!" she replied, "It’s not outside, it’s inside."  She later proved to be the organist and she accompanied two singers one a tenor called Martin and the other a lady whose name I cannot remember – but she was a very fine singer, impressive especially in the warm-up.  I sang along at one or two points as did the woman beside me in the back seat and quite a few echoes in the congregation as a whole.  I think the organist is a St. Louis sister.  Margaret Harmon on the other side of the main isle waved to me from the right hand side of the church and I returned the gesture before the mass began.  The celebrant a stocky man of the Jim Cousins’ mould was human with excellent narrative skills.  A Northerner, he seemed very experienced although he was probably only in his mid 50’s.  A bigger, white-haired priest concelebrated – a priest of the parish?  I also went in to the toilet after mass and walked up to the end of the graveyard for the conclusion of the burial.  Located Claire, dressed extremely well in brown satin, and offered my condolences.  Rosanna gone to golf when I came home.  I made a salad including carrot, cheddar, olives, three slices of "buttered" soda bread, 5 or 6 grape tomatoes, the remains of a ham salad prepared by Rosanna from the container, two slices of ham.  Watched the second half of The Cup Final.  Chelsea 2, Everton 1.  Aisling rang.  Paul gone to Galway (for the big yacht race?) so Aisling said she would come down.  I took a siesta and Aisling arrived before I got up.  I lit the fire and had a long coherent discussion with Aisling about psychiatry, mental illness, schizophrenia, education, work, explaining my stock ideas which seemed to mirror her own.  Took a few snaps and Aisling took one of me in my Technicolor robe and Emperor pajamas.  Rosanna, runner-up in the McHugh Cup, came home soon after 22.00.  Marian Murnaghan was the run-away winner.  Rosanna’s handicap drops from 19 to 18.  She birdied the Pig’s Back from "the hollow" and her 37 points included 21 on the back 9.  Ann Davey also had 37 but Rosanna won second place on the countback.  I lost interest when Rosanna came home and retired to bed.  I washed my teeth, brushed my dentures, flossed, exercised and got into bed around 23.30.

Par 3’s, Profiteroles, By-Pass Surgery, Horoscopes

Thursday 30 April 2009


My stars on Yahoo predicted I would win a sporting contest today. "Your opponent will underestimate your ability, etc." Not knowing what to think in a match that started at 16.50 I ran out a 4&3 winner over Peter McEneaney in the first round of the gold medal. I did not lose my ball and won all the par three holes. Most of the other holes were exchanged – we halved only one hole, the 9th. Martin McGrath dormie 2 playing Frank McKay failed to get a par on either of the last two holes and lost his match on the 20th. Frank chipped in on that hole. I walked in from the 15th and took a shower. Ate chicken goujons, chips, coleslaw, salad: profiteroles: coffee. Doreen in very pleasant mood charged me €13.90 which I paid with my prepayment card. I drank a pint of iced water before my meal. Rosanna and Mary McGoey won at home 4&2 in their Miele 4xball match v Ardglass and Greenore turned out overall winners of the tie. David Dunne exclaimed, "You just beat me to it, Sean!" as I pissed in the toilet behind Ravensdale Church after his mother’s funeral mass. I took so long and he was so short taken that he found another facility – inside somewhere? Fr. Larkin the celebrant did a solid job. The music from Catherine Elmore and Olivia Finnegan was a bit slow and maudlin. Catherine stood up at the microphone on the lectern to sing. Olivia sang some harmony (without amplification) from the organ. Jim McCartan in a fairly heavy overcoat sat conspicuously in the front seat of the side aisle where Joe Carroll, I, Rosanna, Fidelis, were situated in the back seat. Jim McCartan, 51, told me in Greenore later in the day that his more famous namesake had not been that well and had a bypass operation done recently. I parked at the graveyard at 10.40 and Rosanna walked ahead of me as I strolled with my umbrella in leisurely fashion down to St. Mary’s Church. I piddled at 10.45 and barely "lasted" until the end of mass. Well I had drunk, as is my wont, two mugs of coffee and a half litre of milk this morning. "Is it working?" I enquired from Breege Treanor when she mentioned the pen I gave her, "I forgot to check that out myself." "It is working," she reassured me. "You could do a lot of damage with that," I advised her, "Did you ever hear the saying, ‘The pen is mightier than the sword’?" Tom Goslin as we walked slowly behind the hearse up to the graveyard enquired how the "young girl" who built the house beside me was getting on? I ate two boiled eggs for lunch and a few slices of brown bread and butter. Later ate the last of the Moroccan oranges I bought in Tesco the other day. As I was lining up my long putt on the Pig’s Back Brendan Halpenny, playing the 11th, shouted at me. He has arranged our 4xball match for 7.40 on Saturday. "Is that all right?" I sent at 23.00 a text to Og about it. No reply? Did my exercises before bed having washed my six remaining teeth and flossed. Rosanna and I talked a bit about golf earlier and sat on either side of the fire with the heat on. The fire was never cleaned out today at all – the first time that happened in living memory?

The Turkey Trot, Carol Service, Cara


Sunday 14 December 2008

Attended at 7.00 p.m. in St. Mary’s Church, Lordship, for the carol singing which started at 7.30 p.m.  "I want to sit near the door," I pleaded to Paul McNeill, "I might want to go to the toilet."  As it happened I had no problem – the service ran smoothly and smartly and was over around 8.10 p.m.  "They could have sung a few more," Eva complained to me and Ann Murphy as we walked out of the church.  "Aye, they didn’t sing ‘O Little Town’," I agreed.  "No nor ‘Once in Royal David’s City’," Ann said in support.  "I love that one," Ann said with some enthusiasm and waving her arms in the air in front of her she remarked, "You can see the whole picture.  It just says it all!"  Ann and I assured Eva she would hear these carols and "O Holy Night" (which Eva also mentioned) in "Bellurgan."  Rosanna at home when I came in from the carol service.  She had a bottle of Cooley "Tyrconnell" whiskey and two bottles of wine – her prize for coming third in the scramble/turkey trot.  I had given her a €20 note around 10.00 a.m. this morning to pay the €15 entry fee (including a plate of dinner), just before she and Og set out for Greenore for the 11.15 a.m. shotgun start.  Rosanna played with Len Hennebry and John O’Reilly and some formula was used to work out their score because Noel Toner who was supposed to play with them rang in at 10.00 a.m. and pulled out.  Sean Og played poorly Rosanna reported.  I ate a washed pear, a small Gala apple, a glass of milk for lunch.  Took a siesta and got up around 5.00 p.m. and in my robe, fried three medium sized microwaved Roosters which Rosanna has left this morning, grilled 3 rashers, reheated some boiled cauliflower in the microwave, ate all with brown sauce, and a glass of milk to follow.  I was a bit uptight about the carol service and worried whether my bladder would hold out.  Vincent Tuite on my left.  Paul McNeill on my right sang harmony in Silent Night.  Catherine Baldwin, Fidelis, Ann Murphy beyond Vincent.  All of us in the back row.  "It’s great to hear the children?" I pondered quizzically to Tom Goslin near the road outside the church.  "The adults certainly played their part, too!" he retorted giving me a clap on the back.  I listened to O’Brien on Song on RTE Radio I as I waited in Clarke Station in the Yaris for Eamonn to arrive at 9.45 p.m. on his way back from Cootehall.  He turned the program off peremptorily as I turned the exit from the station to go down the Town.  Leah’s sister Cara went in to Longford Mental Hospital today.  Anne suffering from a head-cold when I rang in the afternoon.  She had been at two separate parties last night – one with the ICA in Café Romanza in Drogheda and another with her work-mates from TK Maxx in the Glenside Hotel where she danced until 2.00 a.m.  Had coffee and pale shortcake biscuits twice later in the day.  Sweet but caused a touch of acid in my stomach during my siesta and afterwards.  Red plaid design on the biscuit box.

Sweat, Angst and Paranoia

Friday 29 August 2008

Sweated profusely on the golf course although I was wearing only a T-shirt and vest above my slacks.  Played 6 with Rosanna.  (R,S) 13 (8,4) 14 (3,4) 15 (6,5) 16 (7,6) 17 (6,5) 18 (6,5) Totals (36,29) Shots received (6,5) Nett (30,24).  Did not take a shower and did not "go in."  Rosanna gave me a fried egg, the remainder of the sausages I bought in Tesco last week, some black pudding she bought in McCrystals, and two grilled rashers.  I managed to masticate the meal well enough even though the right side of my mouth (which I am unaccustomed to using) is sore.  Did not take a siesta although I was feeling a bit tired and uncomfortable in the afternoon.  Lit the fire in the evening with logs and a little coal.  Barry had left 2 bags of doubles while we were golfing and, I think, two bags of coal.  Uploaded a few 080808 pictures onto photobucket and stumbled 3 of them.  Contretemps with Rosanna in the late evening over a wedding present for James Crudden.  "I want to get a camera," I asserted.  Rosanna jandered on in her old usual way basically saying I did not consult her – but at the same time making no suggestion herself.  "Get out of my face!" I spat at one point losing my temper and pushed her violently into her chair spilling a half full cup of tea onto the seat.  "Don’t cross that line," I forbade her pointing to a spot on the carpet between her and me in the WEL.  I also opened the blinds on the window.  "You think you can do what you like when the curtains are pulled!" I reasoned.  Anyway I retired to my room around 11.30 p.m. and washed my teeth and did my exercises and got to bed around midnight.  Rosanna stayed up until 1.30 a.m.  Did I hear the clink of glass?  Earlier in the day I fulminated "Eamonn is struggling in the shit: Leah is in great form."  The latter piece of information was relayed to me by Rosanna who heard it from Aisling (back this afternoon from Sardinia).  "It’s like Bobby Arthur," I said with deliberate paranoia, "When everything is going arseways in the church he is delighted."  I tried a number of times to contact Eamonn about his plans for coming to Dundalk.  Eventually he returned on Leah’s mobile my calls but he left me no wiser.  Why should I worry?