Categories
- Ben Folds Broke My Bike
- Shaggy, and occassionally dead, Dog Stor
- My Thoroughly modern Ghost
- Misc
- Grandad
- Sleepy but sleepless
- Strange conversations
- Idle Stuff
- Not Waving but Diving
- Changing Rooms
- Sophie
Links
Never trust a burglar when your naked
I'm coming to the end of my three weeks in Killarney. I'm also coming to the end of the long tether that holds me back from hitting someone. The hotel is lovely, and the staff warm and friendly, but they're so stuck in their ways and almost socialist in their working practices that It's occurred to me far too often that buying and installing a new expensive computer system here has been akin to putting a spoiler and go-faster stripes on a Stana Stairlift.
I suppose I can't take all my frustrations out on the Hotel. The week started badly with my imaginary burglars on Sunday night. Just dropping off, finally I suddenly found myself standing in the middle of the bedroom, having leaped out of bed as if scalded. The sound that woke me registered slowly as the sound of a glass pane being thumped twice, and then smashed, by which time I was at the top of the stairs looking down.
From Finns side: oh for goodness sake! I was so fast asleep then. What the hell is he doing, standing at the top of the stairs, stark naked and hair sticking out in great unkempt tussels. Another dream, just as he's about to drop off. He's always at this.....
I started shouting " Hello" down the stairs. No excuse for impoliteness, I suppose. Behind me Finn is groaning and telling me to go back to bed. It was just a dream. I'm scanning the windows around the front door where I was sure the noise must have come from and there's nothing there, so I start descending the stair...
.....and always on Sunday nights, just when he has to get up early the next day. Oh great, now he going down stairs. He'll set the bloody alarm off now. Not listening to me. What the hell does he think shouting 'Hello' is going to achieve?! He'll be on the couch for the rest of the night if he keeps this up.........
Thumping down the stair, making my prescence obvious, or trying to make my self sound big, I'm not sure which, I reach the bottom just as the alarm screams to life. Car headlights sweep the front porch and a accelerate away from the house.
Jesus, he'll wake the neighbours.....
I let it ring for a moment and listen for reaction. Nothing, so I switch it off. I start with the kitchen, switching lights on as I go and check every room and window and find nothing out of place. Now i can't understand where the noise has come from. I Am sure I heard it.
It was just a dream, come back to bed, for flips'.........
Thats when I spot the set of keys sprawled accross the wooden floor beneath the letterbox. Thump, thump, Smash. John the Barman trying to get the keys through the noisey letter box. Johns' hurried headlights turning in the drive, as he saw the lights come on all over the house. John bringing the pub keys back at stupid O'clock in the morning to wake me up.
Finn spent the next 20 minutes rocking with laughter as I grumpily climbed back into bed. Mumbled something encouraging about scaring the neighbours before collapsing into fits of laughter again, as she thought of my form as it would have apeared in the window to passing motorists.
-I though it was a burglar!!
-yes dear. My hero, And you tried to frighten them off by running around the house naked shouting 'Hello' in a friendly manner.Were you trying to seduce them? I'll be lucky if that barman ever comes back!!.....(more muffled laughter).
Naked ingratitude. Tolerable embarassment, simmering sulkiness. Went to sleep working out ways to connect the letterbox to the mains.
Or as they would say in Egypt:

Frosty Morning

I woke up one morning to beautiful frosty morning last week, as we took a weeks' break in Terryglass, Co.Tipperary. "Tennis Dear?", I said, my wolly head poking through the window, letting the chill into the room. Suggestion met with a heavey pillow to the head. Defeated, I climbed back into bed and buried myself in the duvet. "Cup of Teeeeaa!!", said Finn, from somewhere near the bottom of the bed, where she'd curled herself into a ball to escape the breeze I'd let in. She knew perfectly well that I had had no intention of going out in the cold this morning, and similarly aware that she had brought me up tea in bed for the past three mornings in a row. I had no argument, so I fumbled my way out of the bed, taking half of the duvet with me, thus earning another pillow to the head.

Taking Pictures of icicles on the end of the Kayak
We had rented a cottage for a week beside the lake and had typically brought the kitchen sink with us. Two boats an a bike strapped to the roof, our intentions were good. The first morning I decided to take a ride, I discovered I had brought the wrong pump, and that my bike was now no more than decorative. Finn was keen to try her boat out on the Lake, but first we had to get hold of a second paddle, as I had been using a club one up to know. We decided to go to Galway to pick one up, and came back that evening with one extra boat, and still minus a paddle. Much to Finn's annoyance (I could tell by the curve of her mouth, though she denys it!) we ended up taking the boats out one at a time. My uncanny ability to plan ahead with slightly less success than trying to change the past, again, prevailing.
Today, tea and breakfast in bed to cheer up Finn, and a promise to buy a paddle. A half awake, shaggy head poking out from the edge of the duvet (two hands cupped around the tea like a child sipping hot chocolate) Later, we played tennis, where Finn thrashed me 3 sets to love, to cheer herself up.

Finn cuddles Cliodhna, her little sis, as she texts her boyfriend Danny in the states. For the tenth time! We were sitting by the big open fire at Dervals' house playing games and ignoring the chill outside by filling ourselves with beer and wine and cheese and crackers. Cliodhna was taking time out on her whirlwind tour of America, Europe, North Africa etc. All in the name of research, obviously! Not jealous, honestly!
So far this week, I've manged to embarrass only two people. But it is still Thursday.
The first was my friend Valerie. At 10am this morning, Valerie was making a very imporant presentation to her Boss and some clients. Knowing Val, she had put a lot of work into it, and was proudly wowing her audience with her on-screen visual presentation at the very same moment as I, hundreds of miles away in Ireland, contemplated my morning cup of tea. After ten minutes deliberation, I decided I was bored, and furthermore, felt the need to let someone know. Hence, just as Val was delivering the final full impact of her presentation, knocking them all dead, or at least, she hoped, maintaining their interest, this encouraging message appeared on her screen with a loud, MSN messenger "bobble":
Oi! Val!!! I'm Boreeeeedd!!! Wanna go home an play my guitar!!!!!
Val Replied politely, a little later. Apparently the presentation went very well, up to a point.
The second person I embarrassed was a chambermaid. Probably the less said about it the better, actually. Suffice to say that I should have made sure the front door and bathroom doors were shut before performing the 'ol ablutions. For the rest of the day, two bowed, and profusely apologetic figures were to be seen scurrying past each other in the corridor as I went to and from the conferance room, and she tended her rooms. At 18.30, I left the conferance room and have been hiding in my room ever since. And I'm going to grow a beard.
Cinderella puts the glamour back into washing up. It'll never catch on, but I could get used to the
Found this picture on my hard drive from last year.We were going to a wedding, I think. Can't remember frankly, Finn was far to distracting. Come to think of it, I can't remember knowing anybody at it. Hope we got the address right.
P.S. Finn is giving me hell about this photo. Apparently she reckons it makes her bum look big. This is the same woman who looks at my beer belly and swears blind it's not big. Proportions are in the eye of the beholder I suppose. Personally, I think she looks great.
Ben Folds. Rockin the Suburbs.

Finn and I took a flying visit to London last week to do a bit of Crimbo shopping (a little) and a bit of relaxation (a Lot), including finally getting to see the man himself in action at the Brixton Academy. I, grinning like an idiot, sang at the top of my voice, spilled my beer and pounded the railing in front of me in time to all his oldies, and some from the new album for 2 hours while Finns' jaw dropped and little feet danced to his full blooded piano playing. It was a bit like being in my car with the stereo on full blast, minus the beer.
Amazing concert, in which he went though songs such as Landed, Bastard, Jesusland, Army ( where he conducted the audience to form his brass section) Rockin the Suburbs, Annie Waits, Trusted, Etc Etc. The four and a half thousand people packed into the venue all seemed to know the words and sang, air-piano'd (?), air drummed, and occasionally even air-bass guitared right up to the encore


Hopefully you can make out this video. It's Ben doing his usual brilliant job on the piano, with me trying my best to sing along . And not doing to well.