There...now look what you've made me do...I've caught a cold and I'm as miserable as sin with a runny nose and achy cheekbones and my feet are cold.
Actually I dread catching a cold because a chest infection frequently follows and then I have to take those dear little steroids...dozens of them, to sort of get back on track. So I practice positive thinking...while sneezing and blowing and stinking of Vick and doing a great deal of heavy sighing...
Suppose it means I'll simply have to have a hot Whiskey this evening heavily sweetened with sugar...what a bore...
Of course feeling a bit poorly meant I didn't wage war on the dust bunnies and the spiders are safe enough for another few days...so I've just sort of fiddled about really. But I did get to watch one of John's Power Point thingy's which was very good...there were a couple of Ostriches running down a road which reminded me of the time we met an Ostrich up too close and personal living in a Corporation house.
We'd gone to visit someone with a view to buying his pony when he asked...would we like to see something unusual...so we said we would...game for practically anything we are...he led us to the back garden of a house near his and told us to stand by the fence and not move...then he opened the back door and whistled. And this enormous Ostrich came racing out of the open door and charged down to the bottom of the garden then turned round and charged back again...
Honestly...you could have knocked me down with a feckin' feather so you could.
Paddy...his name really was Paddy and he was a postman...laughed like a drain at the expressions on our faces.
And we bought his pony.
I've told you about a friend who went to buy a horse and the son of the family sat her down in the sitting-room and told her he'd bring the horse to her. He did. He led a 16 hand gelding into the family sitting room and asked her what she thought of him...the Mother appeared and scolded him, but with little enthusiasm, then squeezed herself past the horse with a plate of bread and butter and a glass of poiteen for my friend.
The same son bought his Father a Zebra for his 60th birthday.
It's very important to eat and drink whatever you're offered when you visit an Irish family...you might not be hungry and you might not fancy a glass of poiteen but country people will be mortally offended if you refuse.
When we'd decided to sell our first cottage and we were looking at others, we became hopelessly lost one day. I called at the nearest farm and asked had they any idea of the Townland we were looking for and the woman of the house practically dragged me in by the scruff of my neck for a 'fry'...'You'll take a fry' she said...so I beckoned Himself and we sat down in the kitchen and she gave us plates heaped with bacon and eggs and Black pudding and sausage and tomatoes...the inevitable Collie dog was sitting under the table so I passed all the meaty bits to him while the woman's back was turned...he was a growly sort of a dog until I gave him bits of bacon...then he was suddenly my best friend.
She hadn't the faintest idea about the cottage we were looking for...but she did have a sister with a property for sale and she gave us the 'phone number and said to be sure to ring her...
I don't think we ever did though.