‘Tis the season to be jolly,
Lots of reason for acts of folly,
Turkey and ham, Brandy and wine,
Presents so wham, Gifts so fine,
T-shirts and socks, Handcreams and clocks.

Family and friends gather round,
United in blood by ties that bound,
Celebrate whats Yours…Ours…Mine,
Those past times, those past Father Times,
We remember where our loyalties lie.

To you and yours. Cheers everyone!!

I wonder what colour the car was?

Today I was using a map to find a street in central Dublin. While perusing said map, I saw Upper Digges Street described in shorthand as ‘Digges St Up‘. I wonder if the OPW or the Roadworks Dept have a depot on the street – it would be rather fantastic if they did.

I had a friend who used to work on an assembly line for an electronics company. Part of her job was to ‘tick’ the QC box if the gadget passed the Quality checks. She did this hundreds of times a day. In an effort to brighten her day, she used to draw smilies instead of the tick. Inevitably, she got found out. The QC manager was shocked, and angry, and sacked her for abusing her position!!

It’s good that mapmakers and assembly line workers still retain a certain ‘ability’ to fight the tedium of their jobs. And so should the rest of us.

Which is a roundabout way of saying I need a holiday, or at least, some sunny weather!!

As I mentioned in my last entry, I came down here to Dungarvan last Friday to collect a painting I’d bought recently. I travelled here on my own as I only intended to stay a day or two. But, a week later, I’m still here and, oddly enough, I’m having the time of my life.

Previously, Dungarvan would have failed my ‘Wet Wednesday in November’ test. By that, I mean I would have despaired at the unavailability of the newspapers before 9am, or the lack of cultural activities, and the shortage of good food (The Tannery being a notable exception). The local ‘O’Briens Sandwich Bar’ doesn’t open until ‘shortly’ after the official 10am opening. The urban-dweller in me couldn’t understand how the locals managed without their morning take-out coffee!

But this time it’s different. It’s still the same town, with the same expensive prices and shoddy customer service (Lady Belle excepted), but there’s an energy about the place that’s infectious. The local shops are getting touched up in anticipation of the tourist season. The €10 ‘meat and two veg’ restaurants are abuzz with activity as their new furniture is delivered. Even one of the local bookshops is shut temporarily as, I dunno. they dust their shelves? As far as I know, school is still ongoing. But there can’t be too long to go to summer holidays and the teenagers are itching to be set free. They’re itching to get going in other ways as well. The local public parks are virtual no-go area’s in the early evenings as the teenagers have a roll around ‘in the hay’ before their school buses take them home to their (presumably) unsuspecting parents.

Spring is definitely in the air and I’ve a spring in my step as the long weekend approaches. Think I’ll grab another pint.

Feile na Deise

I think the buds are from a gorse bush but I can’t be sure…

But the reason why it’s one of my favourite pics is the expression of the Garda (police officer). He probably joined the Guards out of some sort of civic duty. Catch the criminals and right the wrongs of society. Maybe even help the public live peaceful lives. Instead, he gets to safeguard the crime scene of, what, criminal damage? Foaming without a licence?

All those years spent fighting playing on a GAA pitch and it’s come to this. He’s so fed up, he can’t even talk to his mate colleague.

Best viewed large.

Although the amount of teenagers drunk/getting drunk during the afternoon was a bit worrying. Then again, I am getting old!

I took quite a few photos today and eventually, I’ll add them to a flickr set called Paddy’s Day 2007.

The Gardai in Co Louth tried putting wrecked vehicles on the side of the road to reinforce the message that ‘it could be you‘ if you didn’t drive carefully. Later, the Irish Lotto used the same slogan (it could be you) in their advertising but in an entirely different context.

I took the photo below in the Mahon Falls near Dungarvan, Co Waterford. I was surprised to see the abandoned car but it was a good photo opportunity with the sign in the background. Now, don’t get me wrong, the area does have a problem with car crime during the summer when the hire cars of American visitors are broken into but during the winter…??

You won’t be able to read the sign in the photo at that size (try here) but it says (sic):

Visitors to the Mahon Falls Are Advised NOT to Leave Valuables Or Personal Belongings In Unattended Vehicles

I was puzzled by the punctuation (lots of capital letters) but I also wondered if it was some sort of marketing trick by the local council. Did the sign fail to combat the crime in the area? Did they toy with the idea of placing a few multi-lingual signs? Or maybe a really big sign? Or did they get a grant from central government and just say, ‘feck it lads, lets put a burned out car up there. That’ll really get the point home‘.

Lots of ‘official’ signs in Ireland have the legend ‘by order of [local council]‘ on them. This one doesn’t and maybe that’s the problem?

The mind boggles.

I visited today to do the computer updates and walk her dog (long story but karma is involved!!). Since the updates would take an hour or more, I asked for a can of coke. She didn’t have any cans cold enough. In her opinion, this is a mortal sin so she dashed to the shops to buy me a can of coke. She returned with three cans of coke, a large packet of mini-mars bars and two tins of dog food for me the dog. Sometimes 2+2=5!

She’s a typical Irish mammy – she won’t rest until the visitor has eaten. She doesn’t eat while I’m eating – ‘Oh, I’ve just had lunch etc‘. Dell, or whoever, should employ her for her just-in-time skills. She doesn’t exactly hover around me while I’m eating but I wouldn’t be suprised if someday she bought a gadget that measured the tension of my trouser buttons to ensure I’d eaten enough in one sitting to last a complete week.

She’s also bought a digital camera, the Canon Powershot A540, from Pixmania. My suggestion was to start at the A540 and have a look around since her budget was approx €200. But, no, she just bought it. Pixmania is a French company and DHL do their deliveries. I showed her the DHL tracking website and how the information showed how it was in France on Wed, the Uk on Thurs, and in the back of an Irish van today (Friday). And, as luck karma would have it, the DHL guy actually showed up at the exact same moment. She was dumbstruck. Actually, she wasn’t dumbstruck. She triumphantally told the delivery man how ‘my son‘ was tracking him to the front door. He looked at me. And I looked at him. And all I could do was smile weakly.

Anyhows, I brought the dog for a walk. Talk about mind games!! Mama isadub has Snowy well trained. Or maybe it’s vice versa? Most days, they walk to the nearby beach following a particular route and then they walk home, again, along a particular route but smartypants isadub had to choose a alternative path. it was a different, shorter, route because it was going to rain very soon. Isadub, with his glasses, doesn’t do rain but Snowy wasn’t having any of it.

That’s what we saw on the beach. I put the collar and leash on the dog as tightly as I dared and brought him to the beach. All went reasonably well until it started to rain. I ‘explained‘ to Snowy that it was time to go home because the rain was making me feel uncomfortable. In a fine display of empathy, Snowy refused to budge and dug his heels in (literally). I tugged at the leash as hard as I dared to encourage him to come home (to the car). The ungrateful bastard slipped out of his collar and ran away, through a puddle, in the opposite direction. I knew if I ran after him, he’d only run further away, thinking it was a game. So I jumped in the car and chased after him.

When I caught up with Snowy, he promptly started running back towards the beach! Luckily, he seemed to get a bit afraid of all this ‘freedom‘ so, when I called to him, he came running back to me like a long lost son. I was having none of it. There was no back seat, cushioned, ride for him since he’d insisted on walking through every puddle and body of water available. As a prisoner of war, he was deposited in the large boot (of my S-Max) and driven escorted him home.

My mother’s neighbours must have thought something weird was happening when I arrived back. Normally, I park my car opposite the house but this time, I reversed my car right up to my mother’s front door. I alighted and opened the front door of the house before I went back to the car boot. I had to distract Snowy before I opened the boot but I picked him up and physically carried him inside the house like a Category A prisoner serving life for heinous crimes.

And do you know what the fecker did once inside? He walked strutted upstairs to his bed like nothing unusual had happened. Just a walk in the park (or the beach) for him. Me? I had to sit down for a few minutes and compose myself. I can cope with business pressures, instant decision-making, and mega-bucks deals but an arthritic, asthmatic walking ball of hair just throws me!

I am definitely never, ever, going to rub his back or tickle his belly again. I may scratch behind his ear from time to time but I won’t mean it.

Sometimes you just can’t win but that’s life, I guess!