Sick of it.
It snowed from 8.30am yesterday morning until 11pm and then it started again at 5am.
Himself had to go to work at midnight and he didn't get back until 11.10am, at which point I just handed over the frying pan with his breakfast in it because I had to go out.
Now it is 1.17pm and I am back, making my breakfast quietly because he is asleep.
And this is Himself's weekend off.
We have been doing this since November.
We have to do this; we have to try to get some sleep even though one of us is always getting up, or going to bed, or getting dressed, or getting a phone call from work, or trying to have a life with the sound muted; we have to drive up and down the province for work, for the kids, in snow and rain and sleet and hail and blowing snow and wind and more frigging sleet; we have to deal with wives and their lawyers and our lawyers and landlords and neighbours who don't work so they run around the apartment making noise all night, and supervisors who don't see why they should ask the person who's turn it is to plough snow to do it, and people who want to know when they're getting their Internet, and boilers and shitty equipment and twenty four hour shifts in the middle of bumfuck Nova Scotia, and we have to do the shopping and the laundry and the bill paying and the entertaining and all the things that people have to do all the time...
And we have to do it all with a friggin' foot of snow on the ground every three days.
I am FUCKING SICK OF THIS.
So now I will eat my breakfast and go out and shovel snow off the steps, and the yard, and the car and the path to the laundry and then I will do the shopping and the laundry and the housework with the sound muted and hopefully, at some point Himself will wake up.
Of course, I'll be tired then.
Bah!
No wonder I made no sense last night.
Saturday, March 29, 2008
This is why I left Ireland
Well, there were a few other reasons, but this was the main one....
Jesus... will somebody tell everybody that it's over. And they should all just watch Jericho.
And imagine being old.
Gilmore to urge Labour to make itself relevant to voters again
STEPHEN COLLINS, Political Editor
THE LABOUR Party leader, Eamon Gilmore, is expected to call on his party today to change itself if it really wants the Irish people to entrust it with the task of changing the country in the 21st century.
Mr Gilmore is due to address a new Labour Party commission, established by a motion of the party conference last November.
The commission is charged with examining and reporting on all aspects of the party's organisation, campaigning and political activity and to make recommendations on the role which Labour should take in the modern Ireland.
The commission, chaired by Greg Sparks, who served as programme manager for Dick Spring when he was tánaiste between 1993 and 1997 will hold its first meeting in Dublin today.
There are more than 20 members on the commission, representing various areas of the Labour Party, including the parliamentary party, councillors, constituency organisations, Labour Youth and the trade unions.
The commission will hold a series of meetings with party members around the country in the coming months. It is due to report to the national executive committee in advance of the next party conference which is due to take place in late November.
Mr Gilmore will address the opening meeting of the commission today and it is expected to make a major address on the direction he wishes to see the party taking in the years ahead.
He is expected to encourage the party to present the Irish people with a clear and understandable statement of what it stands for in modern Ireland, not just in relation to the immediate concerns of today, but to Ireland as it will be between now and 2020, and indeed beyond.
Mr Gilmore has emphasised in the past that Labour's values of equality, solidarity, community, and democracy need to be expressed in the language of modern Ireland to make them relevant in the lives of ordinary people.
He is expected to stress that there is a need for the party to expand the meaning of the term "Labour" to go beyond the old image of a downtrodden proletariat and Labour as an interest group representing a particular form of paid manual employment.
Mr Gilmore will suggest that the term Labour today applies to those who work for themselves, as well as those who work for employers and was not confined to paid work, but applied to those who work at caring for the elderly, for children and for those with disabilities.
He is also expected to emphasise that while Labour is the party of public services that means it should be the party of the public who use them, as well as the public servants who produce them.
Similarly, while Labour was the party that emphasised rights it should also emphasise responsibilities.
While Labour had steadily up-dated many of its policy positions it had not projected that modernisation. While Ireland had grown and changed it had not been able to project that development to the public.
The Labour leader will say that having left behind the closed, authoritarian society of the past, and provided for a far greater measure of personal freedom, hard questions now needed to be asked about the society that we had created, and about the responsibility we all have for the kind of society we will bequeath to our children.
He will also refer to the hard choice that will have to be made as the halcyon days of the Celtic Tiger recede and tightening public finances forced a more exacting scrutiny of taxation and expenditure decisions
Jesus... will somebody tell everybody that it's over. And they should all just watch Jericho.
And imagine being old.
Gilmore to urge Labour to make itself relevant to voters again
STEPHEN COLLINS, Political Editor
THE LABOUR Party leader, Eamon Gilmore, is expected to call on his party today to change itself if it really wants the Irish people to entrust it with the task of changing the country in the 21st century.
Mr Gilmore is due to address a new Labour Party commission, established by a motion of the party conference last November.
The commission is charged with examining and reporting on all aspects of the party's organisation, campaigning and political activity and to make recommendations on the role which Labour should take in the modern Ireland.
The commission, chaired by Greg Sparks, who served as programme manager for Dick Spring when he was tánaiste between 1993 and 1997 will hold its first meeting in Dublin today.
There are more than 20 members on the commission, representing various areas of the Labour Party, including the parliamentary party, councillors, constituency organisations, Labour Youth and the trade unions.
The commission will hold a series of meetings with party members around the country in the coming months. It is due to report to the national executive committee in advance of the next party conference which is due to take place in late November.
Mr Gilmore will address the opening meeting of the commission today and it is expected to make a major address on the direction he wishes to see the party taking in the years ahead.
He is expected to encourage the party to present the Irish people with a clear and understandable statement of what it stands for in modern Ireland, not just in relation to the immediate concerns of today, but to Ireland as it will be between now and 2020, and indeed beyond.
Mr Gilmore has emphasised in the past that Labour's values of equality, solidarity, community, and democracy need to be expressed in the language of modern Ireland to make them relevant in the lives of ordinary people.
He is expected to stress that there is a need for the party to expand the meaning of the term "Labour" to go beyond the old image of a downtrodden proletariat and Labour as an interest group representing a particular form of paid manual employment.
Mr Gilmore will suggest that the term Labour today applies to those who work for themselves, as well as those who work for employers and was not confined to paid work, but applied to those who work at caring for the elderly, for children and for those with disabilities.
He is also expected to emphasise that while Labour is the party of public services that means it should be the party of the public who use them, as well as the public servants who produce them.
Similarly, while Labour was the party that emphasised rights it should also emphasise responsibilities.
While Labour had steadily up-dated many of its policy positions it had not projected that modernisation. While Ireland had grown and changed it had not been able to project that development to the public.
The Labour leader will say that having left behind the closed, authoritarian society of the past, and provided for a far greater measure of personal freedom, hard questions now needed to be asked about the society that we had created, and about the responsibility we all have for the kind of society we will bequeath to our children.
He will also refer to the hard choice that will have to be made as the halcyon days of the Celtic Tiger recede and tightening public finances forced a more exacting scrutiny of taxation and expenditure decisions
The novel is back on by the way
By which I mean that when I have time off I choose to spend it staring into the delicious middle distance, working through a particularly knotty part of the plot.
It's how I cope with a winter that arrived too early, bang on time, like he was awkward and early to a party, and then found alcohol and decided to stay until the last allotted moment, and then wouldn't get into the private ambulance, and eventually not even the one provided by the courts...
.... and then some...
That kind of a winter.
But I know from the Queen Mother and by grapevine from the Queen Dad that it was a hard winter in Ireland too.
It's how I cope with a winter that arrived too early, bang on time, like he was awkward and early to a party, and then found alcohol and decided to stay until the last allotted moment, and then wouldn't get into the private ambulance, and eventually not even the one provided by the courts...
.... and then some...
That kind of a winter.
But I know from the Queen Mother and by grapevine from the Queen Dad that it was a hard winter in Ireland too.
I think
I may have fucked up the last post.
What I meant to say is that I love people who can blog in the snow.
But I'm in a state of relief really.
I will tell you all about it some day.
When something happens that's worth writing to you about.
There are some nights when Kentucky blue grass is all that will do.
And we have Beethoven's bi-centennial coming up next week.
When I imagine you listening to Beethoven, I always imagine that you have your glasses down at the end of your nose.
What I meant to say is that I love people who can blog in the snow.
But I'm in a state of relief really.
I will tell you all about it some day.
When something happens that's worth writing to you about.
There are some nights when Kentucky blue grass is all that will do.
And we have Beethoven's bi-centennial coming up next week.
When I imagine you listening to Beethoven, I always imagine that you have your glasses down at the end of your nose.
Facebook envy
Is anyone else suffering from it?
I surely am.
I find Facebook a great chore, but at the same time, some days, the reason I get up in the morning.
Where is Ken?
Is Joos near a silverback?
And what is that one that's always tanned and on a beach somewhere exotic doing, and why is she still following you around online being your friend....
And oh look, there's your husband's ex-wife's sister's husband's neice's friend.....
On your cousin's closest friend list....
Anyways...
I don't have brothers who have girlfriends/ spouses/ mates who like sisters...
And I still haven't figured out how to make friends on the Internet.
That aren't scary after a while.
Or else I move country....
Anyways, I don't have cheap flights anymore. Or rather, I removed myself so far from my life that I have to choose between instant gratification and home, which may or may not be a sign of growing up ...
But for me to read a blog post about a woman that I love who is in a place that I know all about, but where I never have been ...
... Having the time of her life, and then it snows...
... which is shit, I accept ...
... but hollow laughter....
Hollow laughter is pretty good actually.
Power off for Earth Hour boys and girls.
Let's all do something really useful.
I surely am.
I find Facebook a great chore, but at the same time, some days, the reason I get up in the morning.
Where is Ken?
Is Joos near a silverback?
And what is that one that's always tanned and on a beach somewhere exotic doing, and why is she still following you around online being your friend....
And oh look, there's your husband's ex-wife's sister's husband's neice's friend.....
On your cousin's closest friend list....
Anyways...
I don't have brothers who have girlfriends/ spouses/ mates who like sisters...
And I still haven't figured out how to make friends on the Internet.
That aren't scary after a while.
Or else I move country....
Anyways, I don't have cheap flights anymore. Or rather, I removed myself so far from my life that I have to choose between instant gratification and home, which may or may not be a sign of growing up ...
But for me to read a blog post about a woman that I love who is in a place that I know all about, but where I never have been ...
... Having the time of her life, and then it snows...
... which is shit, I accept ...
... but hollow laughter....
Hollow laughter is pretty good actually.
Power off for Earth Hour boys and girls.
Let's all do something really useful.
The snow is still on the ground, but it must be Michelmas term by now
I actually took pictures of the snow tonight.
To show you that I am not messing.
And this is the worst year in seven.
That's what really scares me.
It's only a seven year cycle.
Oh well, as one gets older, one has to live dangerously.
However that may manifest itself.
Happy Easter to everyone who knows what Michelmas means.
Sunshine.
To show you that I am not messing.
And this is the worst year in seven.
That's what really scares me.
It's only a seven year cycle.
Oh well, as one gets older, one has to live dangerously.
However that may manifest itself.
Happy Easter to everyone who knows what Michelmas means.
Sunshine.
Thursday, March 20, 2008
Misery
I have spent ALL DAY trying to get through to the Leonard Cohen ticket line.
All I get is the engaged tone.
All I get is the engaged tone.
Friday, March 14, 2008
St. Patrick's Day
They are discussing Paddy's Day and all things Irish on CBC at the moment.
So they are interviewing Irish pub managers of course.
The interviewer just asked a guy 'what's the difference between SPD in Ireland and in Canada?'
'Oh, SPD is a holy day of obligation in Ireland. You usen't not be able to get a drink on SPD.'
I would have pointed out that it doesn't snow in Ireland on SPD, whereas in Canada it usually signals that big March storm that marks the end of the winter. We are looking at 35 cm this weekend, hooray not.
I wonder how many listeners know what a holy day of obligation means?
Really though, I am scratching my head at the enthusiasm with which Canadians approach SPD.
I mean, we don't celebrate Ukranian Day, despite the large Ukranian population in Alberta.
And Ukranians like to drink just as much as the next Irish man.
And Ukranians would probably know what a Holy Day of Obligation is.
'Tis strange.
But not to be sniffed at.
So they are interviewing Irish pub managers of course.
The interviewer just asked a guy 'what's the difference between SPD in Ireland and in Canada?'
'Oh, SPD is a holy day of obligation in Ireland. You usen't not be able to get a drink on SPD.'
I would have pointed out that it doesn't snow in Ireland on SPD, whereas in Canada it usually signals that big March storm that marks the end of the winter. We are looking at 35 cm this weekend, hooray not.
I wonder how many listeners know what a holy day of obligation means?
Really though, I am scratching my head at the enthusiasm with which Canadians approach SPD.
I mean, we don't celebrate Ukranian Day, despite the large Ukranian population in Alberta.
And Ukranians like to drink just as much as the next Irish man.
And Ukranians would probably know what a Holy Day of Obligation is.
'Tis strange.
But not to be sniffed at.
Thursday, March 13, 2008
At one with the universe. Finally.
So it snowed again last night. Well over six inches of meringue-like (I have tried to spell this word six times and nothing looks right) fluffy egg-white snow.
The trees were sooooo beautiful. Just covered in white, blueish-tinged in the new moon light.
And when I left work tonight it was almost gone.
I was too hot in my snow boots. So I wore my stilletoes home and didn't fall on my ass once.
Maybe if I am one with the weather it will become one with me and stop snowing.
We didn't get the kids for March break.
SWWBMF called a few weeks back and said she needed a break.
Could we take the kids?
Sure.
I booked the time off.
Come time to get the kids, SWWBMF had changed her mind.
Lucky I have an understanding work environment.
I should start charging for my stories about why I am constantly changing my leave arrangements.
Anyways, we didn't bother to complain.
Maybe if we become one with the universe of SWWBMF the universe of SWWBMF would stop spinning.
I am going to bet myself the pair of shoes I won recently and a nice new top that it will stop snowing first.
Going to the island for the Paddy's Day party.
Better get my party piece ready.
The trees were sooooo beautiful. Just covered in white, blueish-tinged in the new moon light.
And when I left work tonight it was almost gone.
I was too hot in my snow boots. So I wore my stilletoes home and didn't fall on my ass once.
Maybe if I am one with the weather it will become one with me and stop snowing.
We didn't get the kids for March break.
SWWBMF called a few weeks back and said she needed a break.
Could we take the kids?
Sure.
I booked the time off.
Come time to get the kids, SWWBMF had changed her mind.
Lucky I have an understanding work environment.
I should start charging for my stories about why I am constantly changing my leave arrangements.
Anyways, we didn't bother to complain.
Maybe if we become one with the universe of SWWBMF the universe of SWWBMF would stop spinning.
I am going to bet myself the pair of shoes I won recently and a nice new top that it will stop snowing first.
Going to the island for the Paddy's Day party.
Better get my party piece ready.
Saturday, March 08, 2008
Not about chirpy things so much as horny screaming ones
While we're on the subject of birds, The Old Man of the Sea, or Himself as he's usually referred to, tells me that he knows when spring's-a-comin' because the sea gulls sound different.
Apparently their calls change and sound all horny in the springtime.
Queenie, raised in an inland place where seagulls in the sky were so rare that the sight of them meant BIG WEATHER TROUBLE in the Irish Sea, thinks they sound the same all year round, but Himself knows a horny gull when he hears one.
The cry changed about a week ago, if you're at all interested in the sexual practices of Larus ridibundus, so spring's-a-comin'.
Even though the weatherman was quoted in the paper this week as saying he wouldn't put his snow shovel away until May, if he were him.
The level of nuance in the universe that Himself can read always amazes me.
Of course, my ability to remember to pay the bills on time every month amazes him.
It's all about what you're good at.
However, increasingly I feel I have gotten the shitty end of the talent stick.
I want to be able to sit on the couch and feel a small gust come in the sitting room window, just for a moment, and predict what time it's going to snow.
I want to be able to figure out what everyone on the island will be doing at the weekend, by the direction of the wind on Thursday.
I want to know what direction I am driving in the city. At all times.
Oh wait, that's right, I can now.
I have a new car.
Well a new to me car.
It has a compass in it.
I R vurry pleased with my new car.
Sorry, our new car.
A little brother for Albert.
Well, a honkin' big red 4WD brother.
Don't tell any of my green friends.
I called him The Beast.
I adore driving him. I don't care what the snotty bitch in the Prius mouthed at me the other day.
It's MY ROAD.
I'm so buying this bumper sticker.
Himself wants to put a lift kit in it. And he keeps checking out strange chrome objects online.
I think not. I don't know what a lift kit is, but it sounds too white trash even for me.
Apparently their calls change and sound all horny in the springtime.
Queenie, raised in an inland place where seagulls in the sky were so rare that the sight of them meant BIG WEATHER TROUBLE in the Irish Sea, thinks they sound the same all year round, but Himself knows a horny gull when he hears one.
The cry changed about a week ago, if you're at all interested in the sexual practices of Larus ridibundus, so spring's-a-comin'.
Even though the weatherman was quoted in the paper this week as saying he wouldn't put his snow shovel away until May, if he were him.
The level of nuance in the universe that Himself can read always amazes me.
Of course, my ability to remember to pay the bills on time every month amazes him.
It's all about what you're good at.
However, increasingly I feel I have gotten the shitty end of the talent stick.
I want to be able to sit on the couch and feel a small gust come in the sitting room window, just for a moment, and predict what time it's going to snow.
I want to be able to figure out what everyone on the island will be doing at the weekend, by the direction of the wind on Thursday.
I want to know what direction I am driving in the city. At all times.
Oh wait, that's right, I can now.
I have a new car.
Well a new to me car.
It has a compass in it.
I R vurry pleased with my new car.
Sorry, our new car.
A little brother for Albert.
Well, a honkin' big red 4WD brother.
Don't tell any of my green friends.
I called him The Beast.
I adore driving him. I don't care what the snotty bitch in the Prius mouthed at me the other day.
It's MY ROAD.
I'm so buying this bumper sticker.
Himself wants to put a lift kit in it. And he keeps checking out strange chrome objects online.
I think not. I don't know what a lift kit is, but it sounds too white trash even for me.
Chirpy things
While I was waiting for the coffee to drip into the coffee pot, I texted our mutual friend and told him about the door.
You went all Queenie on the door, did you, he replied. Go watch Eastern Promise, it'll make you feel better you know.
It's nice to know I'm an adjective to some people.
It's nice to know some people remember the little things about me.
That's the problem with the winter here. It's very isolating. Everyone just bunkers up for a couple of months and doesn't really go out.
So by week fourteen you just want to kill someone.
Then you wake up one morning and go outside and there it is....
Chirp, chirp, chirp.
OhMYGoD the birds are back! THE BIRDS ARE BACK!! HIMSELF, HIMSELF, WAKE UP DUDE, THE BIRDS ARE BACK!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Cue delighted crazy dance around the apartment as Himself confirms that yes, he too can hear the chirping so it is not in Queenie's head.
Then, later that day, it snows about half a foot.
So not only are you now having another fit because it is SNOWING AGAIN, but now you are freaking out about the poor ickle wickle chirpy birds freezing to death.
Himself assures me they won't but he can't provide any detailed information on exactly why that is.
So every morning starts with a straining out the window, just to make sure it's still there.
chirp, chirp, chirp.
You went all Queenie on the door, did you, he replied. Go watch Eastern Promise, it'll make you feel better you know.
It's nice to know I'm an adjective to some people.
It's nice to know some people remember the little things about me.
That's the problem with the winter here. It's very isolating. Everyone just bunkers up for a couple of months and doesn't really go out.
So by week fourteen you just want to kill someone.
Then you wake up one morning and go outside and there it is....
Chirp, chirp, chirp.
OhMYGoD the birds are back! THE BIRDS ARE BACK!! HIMSELF, HIMSELF, WAKE UP DUDE, THE BIRDS ARE BACK!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Cue delighted crazy dance around the apartment as Himself confirms that yes, he too can hear the chirping so it is not in Queenie's head.
Then, later that day, it snows about half a foot.
So not only are you now having another fit because it is SNOWING AGAIN, but now you are freaking out about the poor ickle wickle chirpy birds freezing to death.
Himself assures me they won't but he can't provide any detailed information on exactly why that is.
So every morning starts with a straining out the window, just to make sure it's still there.
chirp, chirp, chirp.
Any chance of another blogpost?
I just have to put on another pot of coffee first.
I don't know whether to be annoyed or pleased when I get these requests. I mean, it's a full life, lying around watching the weather channel and moaning about how crap and meaningless the winter months are. I don't have time to be typing chirpy reports on how my thirties are going. Having said that, the fact that anyone actually reads this stuff is mildly reassuring: I may be slowly losing my mind, but I can apparently still describe it in reasonably interesting ways.
Someone mailed me the other day to say they had read my whole blog.
In one day.
They have that type of job, apparently.
In the interest of seeing what that would look like, I flicked back a bit.
The shame.....
Self-Indulgent wittering R US
Nevermind.
It's my self-indulgent wittering.
Anyways, I will put the coffee on now. And think about something chirpy to write about.
I don't know whether to be annoyed or pleased when I get these requests. I mean, it's a full life, lying around watching the weather channel and moaning about how crap and meaningless the winter months are. I don't have time to be typing chirpy reports on how my thirties are going. Having said that, the fact that anyone actually reads this stuff is mildly reassuring: I may be slowly losing my mind, but I can apparently still describe it in reasonably interesting ways.
Someone mailed me the other day to say they had read my whole blog.
In one day.
They have that type of job, apparently.
In the interest of seeing what that would look like, I flicked back a bit.
The shame.....
Self-Indulgent wittering R US
Nevermind.
It's my self-indulgent wittering.
Anyways, I will put the coffee on now. And think about something chirpy to write about.
Women's Day how are ya
First of all, let me wish all the women in my life a very happy International Women's Day, particularly those of you who don't get to have a Mother's Day or a Valentine's Day (which is hugely over-rated anyways, IWD is much better I think).
I told Himself the other day that Saturday would be IWD and due to the fact that I have banned Valentine's Day flowers, I would like some flowers on Saturday (which he will have forgotten by now, having the memory of a guppie fish these days), and he said 'International Women's Day, eh? When's International Men's Day?'
I replied that the other 365 days of this year are IMD and he was not to be such a smartass on Saturday if he knew what was best for him.
He didn't think that was fair.
He should try having a womb.
Anyways, he's not even here to bring me breakfast in bed this morning because he was up at six am and gone off to do a First Aid course before I could come to enough to say 'FLOWERS!!!'
Then he has to go and fix a boiler or something. Because he has to drive it to Pictou County next week to boil stuff at a powerplant or something equally hellish-sounding.
But he's still going to be back in time to take me out tonight.
Yeah.
I won't be passing out from holding my breath today for sure.
He will try his damnedest to take me out tonight though, because he was at the receiving end of my annual 'when is the effing winter going to end' fit this week. So obviously, I need to be brought out to a place where there are other people and waiters and musicians and all the trappings of civilised existence before I gnaw my restraints off and go for him again.
It's been a bad winter.
WhaddoImean, been.
It's still winter for twelve more days.
I met a friend on the street the other day. He said 'how are you doing?' I did the Nova Scotia winter blues shuffle, 'hmmm, you know', pained smile, looking at the ground.
Me too, he said. He said he asked a mutual friend (who is the most Irish Canadian Irish person I have ever met) the other day, if he was in that mood.
Our mutual friend said: 'where I want to kill someone, just to watch them die? Yep.'
That sort of sums it up for me.
My friend said 'everyone's in such a bad mood, we should just put everyone in a room, get them all roaring drunk and just have a big fight, get it all out of our system'.
I suddenly realised that's why we have Paddy's Day in March. Unfortunately, I have to go to work on SPD this year.
You gotta take your opportunities where you can find them.
Last night I came home to find I had locked myself out and as Himself was up to his eyes in boilering stuff for the foreseeable, I squeezed out through my neighbours exit hatch, climbed down the fire escape and ripped our fire door off its hinges with my bare hands to get in.
Boy did that feel good.
After the feeling came back into my fingers.
I told Himself the other day that Saturday would be IWD and due to the fact that I have banned Valentine's Day flowers, I would like some flowers on Saturday (which he will have forgotten by now, having the memory of a guppie fish these days), and he said 'International Women's Day, eh? When's International Men's Day?'
I replied that the other 365 days of this year are IMD and he was not to be such a smartass on Saturday if he knew what was best for him.
He didn't think that was fair.
He should try having a womb.
Anyways, he's not even here to bring me breakfast in bed this morning because he was up at six am and gone off to do a First Aid course before I could come to enough to say 'FLOWERS!!!'
Then he has to go and fix a boiler or something. Because he has to drive it to Pictou County next week to boil stuff at a powerplant or something equally hellish-sounding.
But he's still going to be back in time to take me out tonight.
Yeah.
I won't be passing out from holding my breath today for sure.
He will try his damnedest to take me out tonight though, because he was at the receiving end of my annual 'when is the effing winter going to end' fit this week. So obviously, I need to be brought out to a place where there are other people and waiters and musicians and all the trappings of civilised existence before I gnaw my restraints off and go for him again.
It's been a bad winter.
WhaddoImean, been.
It's still winter for twelve more days.
I met a friend on the street the other day. He said 'how are you doing?' I did the Nova Scotia winter blues shuffle, 'hmmm, you know', pained smile, looking at the ground.
Me too, he said. He said he asked a mutual friend (who is the most Irish Canadian Irish person I have ever met) the other day, if he was in that mood.
Our mutual friend said: 'where I want to kill someone, just to watch them die? Yep.'
That sort of sums it up for me.
My friend said 'everyone's in such a bad mood, we should just put everyone in a room, get them all roaring drunk and just have a big fight, get it all out of our system'.
I suddenly realised that's why we have Paddy's Day in March. Unfortunately, I have to go to work on SPD this year.
You gotta take your opportunities where you can find them.
Last night I came home to find I had locked myself out and as Himself was up to his eyes in boilering stuff for the foreseeable, I squeezed out through my neighbours exit hatch, climbed down the fire escape and ripped our fire door off its hinges with my bare hands to get in.
Boy did that feel good.
After the feeling came back into my fingers.
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