Laptop RIP

Ill laptops - its a theme. First poor Various Cushion suffered the demise of her laptop - now in a case of laptop swine flu, my one has fallen over.

How am I posting, you may ask?

Well, techy Mr Oubliette has worked it so that I get a few minutes on the machine before it dies again. And what am I doing while I have these precious few minutes? Replying to emails that are backing up? No. Doing some writing of the great Irish novel? No.

Instead I am blogging and getting my fix of celeb gossip. Cause, like I'll fall apart if I don't know what John and Edward are getting up to right now!! (Of course I don't need an internet connection to know what they're doing - they're being deluded yet strangely entertaining 24/7 I suspect.)

But there you go.

I should attempt the Everest that is my email now. Wish me luck.

And if you hear a loud bang coming from the west part of Dublin - that'll be the laptop going again.

Laptop RIP

Ill laptops - its a theme. First poor Various Cushion suffered the demise of her laptop - now in a case of laptop swine flu, my one has fallen over.

How am I posting, you may ask?

Well, techy Mr Oubliette has worked it so that I get a few minutes on the machine before it dies again. And what am I doing while I have these precious few minutes? Replying to emails that are backing up? No. Doing some writing of the great Irish novel? No.

Instead I am blogging and getting my fix of celeb gossip. Cause, like I'll fall apart if I don't know what John and Edward are getting up to right now!! (Of course I don't need an internet connection to know what they're doing - they're being deluded yet strangely entertaining 24/7 I suspect.)

But there you go.

I should attempt the Everest that is my email now. Wish me luck.

And if you hear a loud bang coming from the west part of Dublin - that'll be the laptop going again.

Worst of times, Best of times

It was one of those days.

I woke up with a headache. Its just going to be a struggle when you greet the day with a thumping jackhammer in your head.

Also, my alarm didn't go off, so the kids were late to school.

They then came home from school with a note saying a pupil has come down with swine flu.

I opened the car door too quickly and bashed my head (yes, that really helped with the headache.)

The wan behind the desk told me that the kids were filed under Tuesday for their swimming lessons and the Monday was all booked up, despite the fact they've been coming to swimming on a Monday for a year. Oh yeah, and this was somehow my fault.

I was too tired to get into town tonight to see the wonderful David Mohan and Colm Keegan read at the Glór sessions.

Hubby was v late home from work (yet another crisis!)

The wine ran out.

I have given up coffee.

The baby turned on the hot tap when I wasn't looking when she was having her bath. Could have scalded herself and I'd have had no one to blame but myself.

I had no inspiration for TFE's poetry bus. I was left winded and gasping for breath as it pulled away from the stop without me.


Of course, I shouldn't be such a misery guts! I should look at it this way...


I have a head - and though it hurts sometime, its something many people would be very happy to have (For example, many victims of the French Revolution.)


I have three lovely children. They have a school to go to. (This gives me free time to go to cafes and meet lovely friends! Hi DramaQueen! Hi DublinDave! Hi Weir Cafe!)

My children (as yet) do not have swine flu.

I bashed my bonce while going to a cafe to meet lovely friends (Hi DramaQueen! Hi DublinDave! Hi WeirCafe!)


Does it really matter whether swimming lessons are on a Monday or a Tuesday? I'm still down nearly 200 quid and the land lubbers are still rubbish at it, no matter what the day.

So, I missed one Glór session - at least I didn't have have my hair fondled by an odd old bloke who I will then have to run into in the butchers the next day...

Early hubby, or late hubby - does it really matter, in the end, he came home, made me a cup of tea and put the kids to bed.

Wine is bad for me.

Coffee is bad for me.

At least the baby didn't scald herself.

I think TFE will manage just fine without my genius for just this once.



There we go. So, like a cheap chick lit novel its all worked out for everyone in the end, and I think its fair to say, we've all grown as people.

C'mon Tuesday, do your worst. Or best, I should say.

Worst of times, Best of times

It was one of those days.

I woke up with a headache. Its just going to be a struggle when you greet the day with a thumping jackhammer in your head.

Also, my alarm didn't go off, so the kids were late to school.

They then came home from school with a note saying a pupil has come down with swine flu.

I opened the car door too quickly and bashed my head (yes, that really helped with the headache.)

The wan behind the desk told me that the kids were filed under Tuesday for their swimming lessons and the Monday was all booked up, despite the fact they've been coming to swimming on a Monday for a year. Oh yeah, and this was somehow my fault.

I was too tired to get into town tonight to see the wonderful David Mohan and Colm Keegan read at the Glór sessions.

Hubby was v late home from work (yet another crisis!)

The wine ran out.

I have given up coffee.

The baby turned on the hot tap when I wasn't looking when she was having her bath. Could have scalded herself and I'd have had no one to blame but myself.

I had no inspiration for TFE's poetry bus. I was left winded and gasping for breath as it pulled away from the stop without me.


Of course, I shouldn't be such a misery guts! I should look at it this way...


I have a head - and though it hurts sometime, its something many people would be very happy to have (For example, many victims of the French Revolution.)


I have three lovely children. They have a school to go to. (This gives me free time to go to cafes and meet lovely friends! Hi DramaQueen! Hi DublinDave! Hi Weir Cafe!)

My children (as yet) do not have swine flu.

I bashed my bonce while going to a cafe to meet lovely friends (Hi DramaQueen! Hi DublinDave! Hi WeirCafe!)


Does it really matter whether swimming lessons are on a Monday or a Tuesday? I'm still down nearly 200 quid and the land lubbers are still rubbish at it, no matter what the day.

So, I missed one Glór session - at least I didn't have have my hair fondled by an odd old bloke who I will then have to run into in the butchers the next day...

Early hubby, or late hubby - does it really matter, in the end, he came home, made me a cup of tea and put the kids to bed.

Wine is bad for me.

Coffee is bad for me.

At least the baby didn't scald herself.

I think TFE will manage just fine without my genius for just this once.



There we go. So, like a cheap chick lit novel its all worked out for everyone in the end, and I think its fair to say, we've all grown as people.

C'mon Tuesday, do your worst. Or best, I should say.

Only three Chapters to go...

Ah life, so busy.

Am just back in after meeting my book writing partner tonight. As avid readers of my blog (all mythical masses of you) will know, I meet weekly(ish) with said partner in an atmosphere of mutual support, encouragement and threat, in an attempt to finish our books. He has abandoned one book after 60/80k words and is now on a new one. Brave man! I on the other hand, am limping pathetically through the longest gestation for a simple light and frothy book ever. I've hit about 110k words now myself, which I am delighted and amazed with, and have only 12k left before a first draft is accomplished.

Then the redraft.

Then the dumping in the bin and the wailing and gnashing of teeth at the wasted years.

(Then hopefully the retrieval from the bin, the sending to a publisher, the discovery as amazing new Irish writing talent and then the millions of euro rolling in.)

Can't wait.

Only three Chapters to go...

Ah life, so busy.

Am just back in after meeting my book writing partner tonight. As avid readers of my blog (all mythical masses of you) will know, I meet weekly(ish) with said partner in an atmosphere of mutual support, encouragement and threat, in an attempt to finish our books. He has abandoned one book after 60/80k words and is now on a new one. Brave man! I on the other hand, am limping pathetically through the longest gestation for a simple light and frothy book ever. I've hit about 110k words now myself, which I am delighted and amazed with, and have only 12k left before a first draft is accomplished.

Then the redraft.

Then the dumping in the bin and the wailing and gnashing of teeth at the wasted years.

(Then hopefully the retrieval from the bin, the sending to a publisher, the discovery as amazing new Irish writing talent and then the millions of euro rolling in.)

Can't wait.

Monday Poem

Here we go with TFE's last minute challenge... The pic below is the one I used...



Us.

Grey gathers overhead.
the first drops, drip.
Our very own private hurricane.

Ravenous gales rush the kitchen
A twister kicks and smashes like a skinheaded yob
through our living room
The eye of the storm sits quietly on our bed.

I run for cover under a table,
but you dance, waltz, foxtrot, jive with the storm.
Exhausted, eventually, it leaves.
It always does.

And after, we pick up the pieces,
wooden splinters stabbing our palms
glass shards embedding in our knees
rats and stagnant filthy water squelch underfoot.

You smile and say its great
You feel alive
I nod, damp and sore.

Monday Poem

Here we go with TFE's last minute challenge... The pic below is the one I used...



Us.

Grey gathers overhead.
the first drops, drip.
Our very own private hurricane.

Ravenous gales rush the kitchen
A twister kicks and smashes like a skinheaded yob
through our living room
The eye of the storm sits quietly on our bed.

I run for cover under a table,
but you dance, waltz, foxtrot, jive with the storm.
Exhausted, eventually, it leaves.
It always does.

And after, we pick up the pieces,
wooden splinters stabbing our palms
glass shards embedding in our knees
rats and stagnant filthy water squelch underfoot.

You smile and say its great
You feel alive
I nod, damp and sore.

Help! I think Paris Hilton is possesing my child..

As a parent you do your best. You try to raise your kids right. Its tough in this day and age, but, I have to say I modestly thought I was doing an alright job.

Pride, fall etc, etc.

So, I decide to check the eldest Oubliette's homework this morning, just to be sure he'd done what he should have last night. Mondays are our busiest day, so sometimes something slips through the cracks.

Part of his home work was to fill out a page in his 'All About Me' book. This has been an on going project since the start of school four weeks ago and has produced such classics as:

Q-"When were you the most disappointed?"

A- "When I first had homework."

Q-"What have you learned to never do?"

A- "Read while walking."


So, below is what I found written in this morning..


It's like Paris Hilton's mission statement! What kind of child am I raising?? Where is the 'Help the poor,' 'Become a doctor,' 'Cure cancer'???

Sigh.

Help! I think Paris Hilton is possesing my child..

As a parent you do your best. You try to raise your kids right. Its tough in this day and age, but, I have to say I modestly thought I was doing an alright job.

Pride, fall etc, etc.

So, I decide to check the eldest Oubliette's homework this morning, just to be sure he'd done what he should have last night. Mondays are our busiest day, so sometimes something slips through the cracks.

Part of his home work was to fill out a page in his 'All About Me' book. This has been an on going project since the start of school four weeks ago and has produced such classics as:

Q-"When were you the most disappointed?"

A- "When I first had homework."

Q-"What have you learned to never do?"

A- "Read while walking."


So, below is what I found written in this morning..


It's like Paris Hilton's mission statement! What kind of child am I raising?? Where is the 'Help the poor,' 'Become a doctor,' 'Cure cancer'???

Sigh.

Its Monday, its Total Fecking Poetry

My effort this week isn't the genius epic I promised Drama Queen this morning via text message. She told me she had something for TFE's poetry challenge and I predicted that my ditty would be quite frankly, spectacular.

I may have been a little bit optimistic.


I hadn't time to really sit down this week and create, so in the end, this afternoon, I did a sort of stream of consciousness sort of thing, and I cut out a middle section which was the most coherent. (It was kicked off when looking at the fishermen picture, not that you'd know it from the result..)

Here you go...



God is shuffling by your door
crouching, peering through the keyhole
don't move a muscle.
Return your darkness to its lacquered box,
put it high upon its shelf
simpering to the dust.
Trust that no one else knew either.
Go now, flow by,
its been enough to try.

Its Monday, its Total Fecking Poetry

My effort this week isn't the genius epic I promised Drama Queen this morning via text message. She told me she had something for TFE's poetry challenge and I predicted that my ditty would be quite frankly, spectacular.

I may have been a little bit optimistic.


I hadn't time to really sit down this week and create, so in the end, this afternoon, I did a sort of stream of consciousness sort of thing, and I cut out a middle section which was the most coherent. (It was kicked off when looking at the fishermen picture, not that you'd know it from the result..)

Here you go...



God is shuffling by your door
crouching, peering through the keyhole
don't move a muscle.
Return your darkness to its lacquered box,
put it high upon its shelf
simpering to the dust.
Trust that no one else knew either.
Go now, flow by,
its been enough to try.