Sean's Space

Friday 19 April 2013.

Exercised and showered. Journalled. Got the picture right on the Dell. A lot of Microsoft downloads. Avast gave the browser on the Dell a clean bill of health. Also the external hard drive. So the job is a good one? Also discovered that I have a live subscription to the Dell Support Centre until April 2014. Still remembering Nandini Boopathy who breathed life back into the Dell a few years ago. I had despaired about the Support Centre. Ate mostly bread today with ham and cheese. Practiced chipping, putting, the PW; in Greenore. Talked to Rosemary Hanratty. Rosanna visited Óg today.

The WordPress.com stats helper monkeys prepared a 2011 annual report for this blog.

Here’s an excerpt:

A New York City subway train holds 1,200 people. This blog was viewed about 3,700 times in 2011. If it were a NYC subway train, it would take about 3 trips to carry that many people.

Click here to see the complete report.

Monday 28 February 2011.

Scored 12 + 21 = 33 points playing with a small man from Blackrock called McQuillan (Denis I think), Michael Hilliard (a strongman with a beard), Jim Brady (78, played with left hand below right, suffering from a cold he cannot get rid of). I think my score was the best of the four. We let Francie Murphy and Eddie Loye through on the 8^th tee. Eddie went on to ace the 10^th and score, I heard from Kieran McGoey, 46 points. I struck the top of a tree playing the 9^th and my ball ricocheted into the bunker beside Francie Murphy playing the 10^th. I struck it out of the bunker into the river in front of me never to be seen again. Started the round at 12.50 under blue skies. Took off my white jacket and cap. Dressed in black slacks, black Calvin Klein jumper, navy and plum shirt, glasses. Drank coffee. €6 entry, €3 for trolley, €2 for white coffee. Sean Bennett drove into the car-park in a shiny new 2011 black Jaguar. Rosanna gave me a chicken, gravy, mash, roast vegetables dinner. Also consumed a large Moroccan orange. Chimney fire in the White Elephant Lounge. Sat up till after midnight. Postponed my journal for today until the morning. Joined the ENUSP board group on Yahoo and uploaded the photo of myself which Anne took on 19 February onto the group site. Rosanna played golf in Greenore today too but she had a poor score < 30 points. She complained of being tired. She arranged to travel up to Dublin tomorrow on The Enterprise to meet Dorie and travel on to Inverin.

Wednesday 19 January 2011.

Did not exercise this morning. Turned around on Ballymac Roundabout at 09.10 and aborted my trip to Ardee for Louth County Childcare Committee meeting. Fog. “I was glad to have an excuse not to go!” I told Kevin McGeough when I met him at 11.00 in The Terrace Bar at Ballymac, “That Frank O’Brien gets under my skin!” At first I ate with a serrated knife (I tried a spoon but the confection was hard brittle and it jumped) and fork a confection with “pouring” cream. Then Kevin bought me a cup of coffee. Much to his amusement I told him the story of Matt, Pat; and the “party line.” “Why is there no party line in this house?” I had asked Rosanna. “It’s not possible,” she replied, “Because you are a fucking nut-case!” I was feeling brittle and at risk because of lack of sleep and my composure was not what it usually is. I tried to remedy things by taking a siesta. But Jo Malone rang the doorbell just as I had changed into my pyjamas. I put on my flip-flops to answer the door. I am confident that I looked respectable in my night gear. Gave Jo a yearbook and she gave me €10. Later someone scratched at the door and put in an envelope. €10 from “Kenneth Treanor.” Pauline O’Hanlon rang on my mobile as I awoke from my siesta. She could not source a speaker for the workshop on obesity. Anyway my siesta was less than a complete success but it did some good. Somehow the money and the phone call calmed my nerves to some extent and I felt a bit happier. Whatever the reason I had found yesterday to be a bruising day. Dessie called at 18.50 and ferried me in his white Caddy van in to Ard Easmuinn to Hamill’s class. Sr. Dolores there. Ate scones and a lot of chocolate sweets. Drank tea. “Blessed are the poor, in spirit.” Hamill was very friendly and man-to-man to me treating me with more equality than he usually does and he seemed to be in good form. “It was a happy coincidence,” I remarked about our chance encounter in The Windsor. My guts talked audibly during the silent meditation. A bit of a slow procession/dance early on. I broke in to speech on a few occasions. “And gathered all above, while mortals sleep, the angels keep their watch of wondering love.” The camel and the eye of the needle. Lazarus and the Rich Man. Hamill did not attempt to restrain me. Alice McCann, too, broke in to a long recitation from Cardinal Newman. Dessie remarked on the way home that he too enjoyed the “class.” “It was better than usual,” he concluded. Yvonne Donnelly seemed tense and stressed. I gather she missed a flight and had to overnight in London. She was over there with her son for an audition which did not go well? The tall composed woman heard me on the radio yesterday. “I recognised the voice,” she said. Whatever happened I think I went to bed without washing my 5 ½ remaining teeth. Rosanna (17) scored 17 points over 11 holes playing with Pat Cluskey.

Wednesday 22 December 2010.

Well this was a totally routine day for me and my energy was quite good even though, I think, I took no siesta. Walked over to the synagogue c 19.45 and let myself in with the key Vera Rice gave me last year. Turned on the heat and the lights. Slipped the Tia Maria out of my Bugatti overcoat pocket and passed it to Ann Murphy. “I got that specially for you yesterday,” I told her. “You should not be doing that,” she remarked. Anyway the most of the choir except Seán Caraher, Fidelis, Anthony Rice, turned up and the practice which lasted until after 21.00 went well. Ann lowered the keys a half tone or so and I had no difficulty reaching the high notes except maybe in When A Child Is Born. “You can help a lot there,” I whispered to Marie McDermott after Silent Night, “with those high notes. A lot of people cannot get up there.” Marie was talkative and friendly tonight. Let’s hope a good dress rehearsal does not lead to a poor performance. Ann left a penciled note in the vestry asking the priest to announce that the choir would begin singing at 09.15 on Christmas morning, Saturday. Fr. Larkin ignored the note tomorrow night. Ann broke up in smiles when I remarked coming out of the vestry, “If he is looking for a row, I will answer him back!” Apparently she is as paranoid about Fr. Murphy as I am? I postponed my journal entry and went to bed tired sometime before 00.00. I got a lot of work done today on the cooleyehg site uploading photos of the graduation and of Santa’s visit to Greenore Golf Club on the latest news page. I also penned a short tribute in English and Irish on the latest meeting page to Edna Murray and tidied the page up. Tried to redesign things with red headings over green writing. Heard from Suzie Lambe that Dermot Traynor has had a large tumor removed from his bowel. Dressed in vest and briefs, black/grey Mizuno gansy, grey braces, grey small check slacks, black Calvin Klein socks, grey Grensons, white Le Coq Sportif T-shirt, thin brown rimmed spectacles; I sat and pontificated ex cathedra (my Parker Knoll) about hospitals including the mental hospital, working on Christmas Day, turkey station, bronze v white turkeys, incubator, Silvia’s sons, Bronagh Kirk; as the low warm sun streamed in the door of the White Elephant Lounge across the snow outside. Our visitor Josie Malone in great form sat in the sun at the door by the blazing fire and listened to me like a favorite student. She agreed to pass on to Silvia two snaps of Silvia I gave her in a used open envelope. I noticed she folded down the top of the envelope. A sort of a gesture towards confidentiality or secrecy? We all had a sup of ersatz Bailey’s. Warm, bright scene. Josie and Rosanna exchanged small gifts.

Sunday 5 December 2010.

Well it’s approaching midnight on Monday now so I am not going to try to detail every little item about Sunday. I got up in reasonable time to perform in leisurely fashion my full matutinal routine. It was a bright calm sunny morning and although it was surrounded by snow the house was warm on the inside. Dressed in underclothes, navy Le Coq Sportif T-shirt, green collared expensive T-shirt, non-descript old track suit top, brown patterned braces, black shiny slacks, black Umbro sports socks, black Hush Puppies’ brogues. Rosanna gave me a fine chicken dinner even if the chicken was a bit bland although there was stuffing made with bread and onions. I took my camera and a spare set of batteries in my pocket. Dessie, in his van, took the Carlingford turn just in front of me. I parked at the door of the Tourist Office and went inside where the attendant behind the desk scribbled the letters Q&A on a postcard and handed it to me. I walked gingerly through the village carrying my camera up to the Heritage Centre. Dessie’s van was parked in the disability parking spot outside the chemist’s near the top of the hill just before the corner going to Holy Trinity. I had put €19 petrol in my 2010 Toyota iQ in Bellurgan Service Station and paid €1 for a Snickers Duo. I offered some of my Snickers Duo to Conor Duffy. He declined but Dessie accepted. Dessie ate one piece paying little attention to the chocolate; I ate the other piece and enjoyed it. I was in good form and was delighted to see Dessie and Conor. We relaxed for 10 minutes or so and then Rowan Hand moved us up and we sat on our left in the second row from the front.” “If anyone throws anything at us we will duck and it will hit you,” I said to the psychiatrist in the row behind. Anyway the discussion got going rather turgidly. After a while I made a speech on the subject of “myth.” That livened things up a bit. I chanced my arm later on towards the end and addressed the topic of “peace” drawing heavily on a description of the Agnus Dei as it is done in Jenkinstown. I do not know how much Conor caught on his video camera. Dessie and I pissed against the back wall and then we came back in we pissed in the toilet stage right which Dennis Bradley had, by then, vacated. I took a picture of Dessie and Fr. McVerry in the center aisle. Walked on down to Dessie Savage’s and hung around for the ceremonial switching-on ceremony. The Christmas lights. I spoke to Liam Reilly and offered assistance on the basis that he is the most likely candidate for Fianna Fáil in the next general election. Took 34 snaps. Piddled in McKevitt’s. Sang a verse of Silent Night with the small choir. A stout girl standing beside me with a hymn sheet I could not read because I was wearing my distance spectacles. She seemed amused and pleased with my efforts and her body language and attitude was supportive and good-humored. Dessie later contemptuously dismissed the effort as a “school-child” one. Anyway he spirited me off to his van at the top of the hill let me out at the dispensary car-park turned laboriously and headed for Greenore. I piddled in the toilet at the back of the car-park in the semi-darkness and set out for Seán Óg’s house in Greenore where the heat was not on but everything seemed in order. I made tea and toast in Dessie’s with brown pan bread and jam. Delicious. I ate two slices; so did Dessie. Dessie rustled up a fine feed of chips, big thick salty rasher of bacon, fried tomato. Both of us were in good form and discussed Deirdre Lewis rather lasciviously. And others. Anyway I did not hang about and departed to make a 18.00 deadline home. Parked outside Brian Larkin’s and checked Óg’s again. Heat on. Exchanged a few remarks with Brian Larkin’s daughters who made a fine picture in the lamplight walking with their coats and a dog up the street towards their house. Warm and happy encounter. I forget what I did for the rest of the evening. I ate an orange. Tart. Also ate corn-flakes and milk. Conor Keelan the mayor of Dundalk and Mick Murphy mayor of Newry jointly switched on the lights. Said hello to Sean Ó Roideán and also Noel Fretwell in McKevitt’s. Graham McDowell holed a 20’ putt on the 18^th for a birdie 3 after hitting a tree with his drive to tie Tiger in Tiger’s own tournament. He holed out again, in the playoff, from 20’ to slay the Tiger with a birdie the great man could not match from 15’. McDowell had started the round 4 behind Tiger. I think it was well after mid-night before I got to bed and I did not drift off to sleep until the wee small hours. Eamonn was supposed to come out from Dundalk today but he changed his mind because he had a lot of work to do. I wore my Lacrosse grey jacket round Carlingford and my green woolly Greenore helmet. It was cold. I had a few problems uploading the snaps from my Fuji FinePix 9500 S onto my Dell but got it done in the end. I probably surfed a bit as well, horoscopes, etc.