perversions 7 April 2008
Richard has met some of the occupants of the other flats around his (yep, not only is he a student now but he’s also living in rented accommodation – I still say it’s a mid life crisis). Ukraine has a bit of a name for people fetching up from all over the world looking for wives and generally taking advantage of some women’s desire to leave their homeland for what they might consider a better life. The first man he encountered was an 83 year old Canadian who, at midday, was drinking champagne with several women at least 60, and more, years his junior. Then there’s an Italian who has been in contact over the internet for 6 months or so with a Ukranian and he’s arrived to meet her. When Richard explained he’s there to learn Russian apparently they looked at him like he’s got a real problem. Different strokes, eh?
racing 6 April 2008
My Dad always loved the geegees. The only live meeting he went to regularly was Galway Race week, though he went to some racing in Gowran in Kilkenny once during the comedy festival, and he attended the Sligo meeting a few times. He’s buried in Sligo and can see the stand of the racecourse from his perch in the graveyard. For the Galway festival we had a special place to meet, in what was then the New Stand. If I fetched up without anyone knowing I always knew where to find the family watching a race. One year a bolt of lightening hit the stand while we were in it – quite thrilling and it smelled of fire and brimstone, I must report. Sometimes, if I was in away and saw a race from Galway on the tv I would try to spot my clan in the traditional spot. If you accompanied him there was no drinking till after the 4th race and then, if someone was doing well, we’d repair to the oyster tent and have a pint of Guinness and Angels on Horseback (cooked oysters wrapped in bacon) – delicious.
grand national 6 April 2008
I didn’t back a horse in the Grand National yesterday. Over the years I have gone off anything but flat racing, to be honest. I hate to see the horses fall and worse is when they have to be put down because of it. I grew up in Galway in the west of Ireland and it has a famous week-long racing festival in july/august. When we were kids we’d walk through the fields to get there and from time to time you’d see a dead horse by the course, put down after a fall – always sad. So, the Grand National is too much for me these days with its high and risky fences. Did all of the horses make it home yesterday?
malapropisms and the like 5 April 2008
Richard went to see a production of Hamlet in Ukraine this evening and apparently they pronounced the Prince’s name as Gamlet. As you all know I am to be godmother to a young chap who is very into Holy Gob, so I am now referred to as the Gobmother by his family. Everything has puns and possibilities. When I got the grey cat her name was Spot and we call her G or The G or Gigi or Geezee but one friend rightly pointed out that she is, in fact, the G Spot which is, er, spot on. In the pub my Mum and Dad drank in one lad referred to women having the metropause and I rather like that as I have often wondered why it’s called the MENopause when it has naff all to do with men, really.
nature 4 April 2008
I feel as though I have been part of a nature programme today. Basically, I have sat out in, and mooched about, and looked out at the garden all day and while I have been watching it a pot of tulips has turned from green (flowers) to yellow just like those time release shots that the programmes do and put together in fast time, so you see a bloom opening and closing and suchlike. It was amazing to see and made me respect nature all over again.
Meanwhile the Husband is ensconced in Ukraine and becoming a Schtyooodent proper – he’s gone and got himself a wee ‘apartment’ for his time there and his classes start on Monday just a short walk away. He’s asked for the satellite channels to be removed so that all he’ll see are Ukranian and Russian channels, and he’s booked to go and see CARMEN at the opera one of the nights soon (though I don’t know what language that’ll be in) and is off to a comedy play at the theatre tonight. I’m beginning to wonder if this is all his version of getting a motorbike and a tattoo??
green 3 April 2008
Richard went off to Ukraine today and so we packed his bag last night which meant clearing out the detritus of the last trip somewhere. So, out went the socks and undies that should have been washed a while ago and all of the plastic room keys that never got left behind anywhere. I have been on the wrong end of those a few times – way up at the top of a hotel and the thing not working, having to schlep down to reception again for a new issue – once I was so fed up in an ancient Manchester Hotel that I rang them and asked them to come rescue me as I could not face the extra journey. I sometimes miss keys. They work. When I was on tour around Ireland in The Early Days there were actual door keys to the rooms of the hotels and it was gas to see lads at the hotel disco with their keys stuck out of the back pocket of their trousers advertising that they were residents and somehow ‘a better bet.’ Every time I go to the BBC I promise myself I’ll remember to give back the plastic thing they put your visitor pass into and I never do – lots of those hanging around the house too. So, the thing that impressed me most out of Richard’s bag was a nifty item from Helsinki – the Finns put us all to green shame – it was a balsa wood electronic swipe for his room there. simple, effective and a total environmental success – it can be done.
fool 2 April 2008
It has never really occured to me to go in for April’s Fool tricks. I think one of the reasons is that I am truly, awfully, utterly gullible. And the bigger the lie I am told, the more likely I am to believe it. It doesn’t occur to me that anyone would lie about HUGE things. Richard is forever ‘getting’ me – usually small things, actually, like he’ll pretend to have forgotten something that I wanted him to do and I get into a complete lather and then’ tadah!’ it’s revealed that he did it…though not always…so I can NEVER be sure. Maddening, though it’s as much me as him as I really should know better by now.
Yesterday, on April 1st, one of my friends on Facebook put up that he was sorry to hear of the passing of Mary Robinson and, eejit that I am, I looked all over for news before checking back and he was mourning someone else famous…who wasn’t dead. It was brilliant in a way because, of course, it was so believable, I guess, and that’s where good ones succeed and bad ones fail.
Today, the Irish Taoiseach Berite Ahern resigned and everyone is sending messages out wondering if TODAY is April Fools..no, he’s gone alright.
train 1 April 2008
I was reminded of my Dad while travelling today. He was always fond of ‘a gin and tonic at 80 mile per hour’. He was on his way Galway to Dublin one fine day when the girl sitting opposite (a stranger) got up and said she was off to the dining car and asked if he’d like anything. He replied ‘a gin and tonic’ thinking he’d hear no more about that, but when she came back she had it for him, and before he could reciprocate she got off. He loved to tell that story as both an example of how outrageous he was and how lovely this lassie. There are 2 dry days in Ireland when the pubs stay shut – Christmas Day and Good Friday – but The Daddy discovered that on the latter you could always get a drink in a station bar if you were in possession of a ticket to travel. He never took up on this particular offer but I think it was a comfort to him that in an emergency he could score a pint somewhere (he was always WELL stocked up for Christmas). Actually, it’s amazing how a thirst can manifest itself if you are told either you can’t have a drink or that there just isn’t any to be had.
a thought 31 March 2008
Well, here’s a thought for The Husband which I am torturing him with at present – what if he learns all that language then finds he has NOTHING TO SAY TO ANYONE? It’s surely a problem for anyone immersing themselves in another language for pleasure rather than say for business purposes. I guess we’ll be going on holiday for evermore to Russian-speaking nations…
bruges 30 March 2008
I have just seen the movie IN BRUGES and thought it was smashing. The city looked fabulous and I would now love to visit. Though the film is very violent I am assuming that’s just for movie purposes (ie make believe, smoke and mirrors, etc) and that it is unlikely I would be involved in any shootouts while there.
Here the rain is getting biblical and I am doubly tortured by my mother who left for Tenerife yesterday (for 5 weeks, no less) and is basking in wonderful weather and eager to tell anyone on her phone list.
I seem to be the only one staying put over the next while – though it is somewhat beyond my control. For instance, The Husband is off to Odessa for a month to learn Russian.
My chief cat minder is in Tenerife.
I am stuck in the rain looking at a laptop trying to wrest the remainder of a novel out of me.
Not THE most enjoyable April in store…