Merry Christmas

I had to look to see when I last posted something here. Was it really October? 

Since I was last here I've done things that I never dreamed I'd do. I mean, there was no way I was ever going to be throwing stones off the tip of Africa, right? Gazing out across the ocean, knowing the next landfall would be Antarctica. Crazy. Gazing out of the window of a plane at the lights of the Mediterranean below, crossing the Equator, these are all things that "other people" do.

Or going back to Edinburgh for the first time in probably 35 years. Wandering around the streets with my Lady and visiting the castle. Sitting in a 700-year old chapel and snuggling together against the wind. It's been a helluva year.

It's also the first Christmas Day for three years that I haven't been at work. That wasn't as bad as you might think. Working on Christmas Day draws everyone there together in the spirit of the day and produces a whole "last day of term" vibe. There are worse ways to spend one's Christmas Day.

I'm back to work tomorrow. Extended Christmas breaks are still definitely something that other people have. I couldn't over-indulge today even if I had the requisite in the house. That's okay too. I'll have to check later but I think I'm on late-cover tomorrow which means starting at 11 in the morning. There's even a Sunday bus service running so I don't have get up at stupid o'clock.

I decided to forgo the pleasure of a Christmas breakfast - I had planned on bacon sarnies but the bread was far too dry for that. No matter. The coffee was hot and sweet and it's got me through til now. It may be time to go and prepare that most traditional of Christmas Dinners - steak and wedges. You wouldn't grudge me a glass of wine with it, would you?

The Smart Thing

It's turned cold. Someone said today "Ahhh, summer's here at last!" But he was wrong. It wasn't raining. It was about half an hour later though, so I suppose that kind of negates my argument.

It seems silly to describe the night as dark. By definition, it's not the brightest period of a 24 hour. It's a very dark night tonight, though.

Thought I ought to check in before I curl up. Haven't been here for a while. Whatever strength and whatever words I've had have been going into work. I've had some kind of low-grade bug and, stupidly, had a 'Flu jab before I was properly over it.

This means the smartest thing is to snuggle up in the warm and get some sleep.

Gone.

Cravings

It's rained pretty much constantly for the last two days here. It's funny to think that the UK is sweltering in a heatwave with blazing sunshine while I'm enjoying weather that's wet and about 15^o. They can keep it, to be honest. I'd far rather it was like this. My Pretty Lady rightly commented once that Ireland shows herself better in the mist and rain than she does in bright sunlight.

Despite the rain I had to go and do some shopping today. Only one bag's worth, though as I need to keep one hand for holding my brolly!

Maybe the rain seeped into my head and the guys in the office there were too busy baling out flood water to make useful suggestions. Whatever, I find myself sat here at really-far-too-late o'clock craving something sweet.

I will not walk to Tesco at this time of night to buy chocolate. I will not walk to Tesco at this time of night to buy chocolate. I will not walk to Tesco at this time of night to buy chocolate. I will not walk to Tesco at this time of night to buy chocolate.

Probably.

Late

I won't lie to you (that needs to be said in a Tipperary accent) it's been a hard couple of days. There's been a cranking up of pressure, both professionally and personally.

I don't propose to go into any great detail about either, just acknowledging both here will help a little. The problem is, of course, other people. If they would just leave me/us alone to get on with life then everything would be fine. Decisions that needed to be made would be made at the right time and I/we would deal with the consequences because I/we had chosen a moment when it was right to do so.

Blah! And Meh! And possible other words ending in "h", too. I don't have a problem with being in situations where my two choices are to be either be wrong or to be incorrect, what bugs me is knowing that I'm in that position because of other people putting their noses where they are neither needed nor wanted.

And now I'm going to try sleeping. That ought to be fun.

Quite Quiet

I'm typing this in a Google Chrome browser. I got bored and thought I'd try it again. It's ok. Still prefer Firefox.

It's been a strange day. I was up very early to watch rugby online and, surprisingly, haven't dozed during the day. I've done a fair bit of housework, including washing the kitchen floor and the doormats, in the hope that I won't be treading mud in from the yard again.

It's bugging me a little that I'm having to type this in raw html to get it to format the way that I want. That alone, is probably enough to get me to stay with Firefox as my default browser. You know what it's like though - I have several tabs open with stuff happening in all of them and can't be arsed to fire up Firefox just to blog.

I should probably explain that I usually type these in a Firefox extension called Scribefire. There is a Chrome version but it spectacularly fails to publish anything! The composer window of the Blogger website doesn't indent my paragraphs unless I type in the coding myself. Pain. Oh well.

The plan for tomorrow is another early start to watch rugby and then probably get some "work work" done. I have a big launch to manage next week and the more stuff I can get done ahead of time the better. I shan't be knocking myself out with it but might well poke at it on and off during the day. Or I might not. We'll have to see.

The house was very quiet last night and today, no matter how busy I kept myself. I had the pleasure of my pretty lady's company, unexpectedly, for Wednesday and Thursday nights. My eyes like it when the last thing they see at night is her, and the first thing in the morning too. One day, every day will begin and end that way.

When I say it's been quiet, I include my neighbours in that. I have a house full of students next door, and one of the houses behind my yard is full of them too. On Tuesday night both houses hosted parties - it's Fresher's Week. I have no problem with parties, especially as they both finished well before midnight. I do have a problem however with either my neighbours or their guests standing on the flat roof of their kitchen, pissing off the end of it. I don't think they realise that their landlord is mine too. If it happens again I might have to have a quick word with him. Or just throw stuff at them!

To draw a quiet evening to an end it's an Ovaltine, I think. My God, how rock & roll am I?

Ten Years Gone

I thought it was a joke in poor taste when first I heard. "Did you hear two planes have flown into the World Trade Centre?" Like "Did you hear about the horse that walked into a bar?" That kind of thing. 

It wasn't until I got back to the house and put the news on that I realised what had happened.

All this time later it still hardly seems possible. The pictures still exert a grim fascination and retain their power to shock.

On this day of remembrance, peace and love to you all.

Reaction

I've been kind of passive this evening. Maybe because it was quite an intense day at work. I haven't been able to generate anything from within tonight.

I tried chess and really stumbled through a couple of games, quite unlike my recent form. Both Facebook and Google+ were open all the time and while I was able to pass a few comments there was never any indication that I'd add anything witty or insightful to the stream itself. Reaction, not action.

I couldn't even settle to reading, which isn't like me at all, preferring to gaze blankly at the telly or sit with music washing over me. I can't even scrape up the inspiration for a decent ending to this.

Soup Of The Day

I had Tomato Soup for dinner tonight, because it was a wet and stormy evening. It seemed like the weather for it, as it always does. Let me tell you a tale...

It was early in my time at secondary school. I was 11, maybe 12. To raise funds for a new school minibus, a sponsored walk was organised. The route took us along a footpath by the banks of the river that the town I grew up in was situated on. This was no clear flowing river with green trees overhanging bubbling water, rabbits and deer frolicking in the lush grass. The Great Ouse was brown and wide, silt-banked and flanked by the wide, empty fields of the northern Fenland, even close to Lynn.

We started at the beginning of the school day. Groups of friends strolling down the river path. As the morning wore on, the day made good on it's threat of rain. I don't remember that it rained very hard, I remember that it rained persistently, squalling into our faces, raindrops like a horde of insects buzzing inside hoods and under collars. "Blustery" doesn't quite describe it.

There was to be a stop after about 6 miles. The higher years could go on further if they wished but us youngsters were expected to stop in Stowmarket and turn round after a break. The town came into view and grew along the banks of the river. We reached the bridge and turned left into a field and what could almost be described as a marquee. Almost.

There were teachers. Teachers and a trestle table with sandwiches and a soup tureen. I chose a small plastic cup of Tomato Soup, sat on one of the folding chairs and began to sip at it. I can still remember the taste now. It never leaves me completely. It was warm and rich and creamy and spread through me slowly. I was still wet, and looking at a six mile walk home in the rain but suddenly all was right with the world.

From that day to this, if I hear the wind rattling raindrops against the window, a part of me wants Tomato Soup. In a plastic cup.

Put The Kettle On

It's amazing the way that things can change over the years.

I hadn't been awake for long this morning when I got a phone call. Shortly thereafter I was in the company of the prettiest girl in the world, munching a breakfast roll and reading the paper while we waited for Lidl to open. A rather lovely start to a Sunday.

20 years ago I probably started a Sunday with a hangover. Which brings me to an interesting observation. If I was given the choice between "no beers" (or any kind of intoxicating liquor) and "enough beers (or etc...) to make you wish you were dead in the morning", I would unhesitatingly choose the abstemious option. I just can't hack the hangovers any more. It used to be a case of "oh God, give me another drink". Now it's a case of "kill me, please!"

I guess it happens as one gets older. I've recently seen a Facebook group called "I don't have a hangover, I am actually dying" and I understand the sentiment completely. Would you believe that I've even given serious thought to going teetotal? I've had a bottle of whiskey in the house untouched for God knows how long, and there are bottles of beer in the fridge that must be dangerously close to reaching their Best Before date. I just don't enjoy it the way that I used to. Every once in a blue moon I really fancy a pint, but the nearest thing I can get to an enjoyable pint in Cork is probably one of the stouts. I miss Real Ale! But even if I had unlimited Abbot Ale at my disposal I wouldn't be going overboard.

I guess I've had my share. I'll have a cup of tea, please.

Drops

They call it the Emerald Isle because it's so green. It's so green because of the rain!

Sat here listening to the raindrops spattering against the window and drumming on the roof (it's better than the crows), reminds me of times spent walking in the rain with my phone pressed tight to my ear. My head tilted to try to keep my phone dry.

Some people walk in the rain; others just get wet.

Here's to walking in the rain.

Sunshy

I think I need to booby-trap my roof. No, really. I'm assuming it's crows or whatever the Hell the big, black smart-ass birds around Cork are. They don't walk like other birds, they kind of lollop along. When they do that on my roof it sounds like the approaching apocalypse. Barbed wire, or maybe some of these.

Should I be washing up? Or learning how to prune a Bonsai? Probably, rather than subjecting you good people to this witless prattle. To be honest, I was a little shaken (but not stirred) on the way home this evening. I noticed that the ringing in my ears was back again and spent most of the walk looking down at the pavement wondering how icy it'd be in four or five months. No matter. I have the pedestrian equivalent of crampons, for when I need them. I'd just be nice not to be quite so wary of the sound of silence, though. It's louder then.

I had a little spell of enjoying the sunshine this evening. It lasted for as long as I was walking the shade. Sunshine is one of those things that's very nice to watch but I don't necessarily want to get involved in it. Unless it's very early in the morning. The sun is still shy then, rather than brash and overbearing the way it gets later in the day. Sunshine in the summer is like that friend we've all had who is great company for a while but just wears you down after a time. 

I know that it appears that I've complained about snow and ice in one paragraph and then about the sun in the next. None of this is by way of a complaint. Whatever the weather does, I'd far rather be here to feel it on my skin than rush to the alternative.

It's getting late so I guess I should try settling down. On the buses to and from work this week so I have a fairly early start facing me. Now if only I could find the off switch for my mind...

Testing

Testing a new blogging client and a different browser to see how they handle formatting of paragraphs and the like.

If you see this, please disregard.

Thank you muchly.

Trimming

I need a haircut. It's got to the stage that it's starting to bug me. Yes, I can tie it back but that's not always comfortable and then there's the whole "coming loose from the hair tie and looking stupid" thing, that my hair does so well. I need to trim my beard as well but that's going to happen any minute when I go for a shower.

I really don't have that much to say here tonight. I worked on Saturday, having swapped it for last Monday. The Monday was totally worth it as I was able pamper my pretty girl while she got used to being back from Cape Town. Working Saturday was okay as it was fairly quiet in the building. I got a bunch of stuff done that I hadn't been able to get done during the week. I'm probably going to go in early a few mornings this week to get a start on things before other things crop up during the day.

I'll be making my own way in for most of the next two weeks - herself is on holiday so I'll be on the buses. If I wanted I could get a 5.40 bus and be in the office by 6. I might for a couple of days just to make the point that I can, having fallen foul of someone I used to work for, for being in too early. Never before have been told off for spending too long at work! Crazy.

I can't see that happening tomorrow morning, though. Maybe aim to be in for 7 as it's going to be another busy week. For now, it's the aforementioned beard trim and shower. And then bed.

Ante Meridian

We'll maybe call it a question of motivation. This last week, when I've been off work, I've barely left the house.

It's interesting in a way. I couldn't have what I really wanted and nothing else out there held much appeal this week. I've been out food shopping and that's pretty much it. I've been, if not content, at least accepting of pottering around the house, reading and listening to music. With the occasional DVD thrown in.

I wonder when the verb "to potter" came into its current usage? It's probably out there is some philological website but I can't be arsed to look it up at this time of night. Of the morning, actually.

"Morning". There's a word to conjure with. One morning, which will probably not be before next summer at the earliest, I'm going to sit up all night on a beach, possibly with a picnic and an acoustic guitar, and wait for the sun to rise. To be there to accept the blessing of the day before it becomes tainted. It won't be tonight, though. As I'm back at work next week I should really be getting some kind of a sleep routine going again or Monday is going to be an even ruder shock than usual.

And I guess that includes not blogging at a quarter to two in the morning. There's that m-word again.

Mental Paralysis

Still. Frozen, almost. As immobile as a railing in winter - the kind that your hand tries to stick to because of the frost.

I've tried to get my mind going to post something here but it just hasn't happened. No matter what's happened in the great big, wide, you-betcha world, there's been nothing to come trip-trapping out of the keyboard and onto the page. My mind hasn't really been stirred by the horror of a man's alternative to the democratic process, a voice being finally stilled, or by England winning one of the most exciting Test Matches I remember. My heart has, but not the creative synapses within my addled brain.

So this is now early Wednesday morning on the second week of my holiday. My reason for reason is thousands of miles away and a sultry night is drifting all around me. I'd give a lot for a thunderstorm right now, and I'd sure as certain be going for a walk in it. Yep, sure as certain. Right here and now. Not that it's going to happen. I'd be able to smell it if there was any good Irish rain nearby and I can't so there isn't.

There's the distant sound of cars trundling along. I can hear the occasional student as well. Always students. There's only about three hours out of the 24 that there isn't the sound of students. I remember the days when I could cheerfully have partied until the wee small hours and then functioned satisfactorily the next day. Those days are long gone, now, as are many things that I miss less.

The window is already as wide as it'll go but I'll try to force it a little wider. I'll stand there for a minute or two, hoping to catch a sweet breeze floating down from Airport Hill. And then I'll try to sleep. Again.

Caped

So it's official, now. For two weeks Cape Town is going to be the luckiest city in the world. This Saturday my Pretty Girl flies out there to deliver training until August 6th.

Of course, I'll miss her horribly but I'm very proud of her that she's been asked to go. We could have done with a little more notice and, in an ideal world, another payday before she goes but that's okay too. It is what it is. She has a functioning phone and iPod and I'll install Skype on the computer. I might even dodge over to Heathrow to meet her and accompany her back to her beautiful country.

We're spending as much time together before she goes as is possible. I'm "on holiday" and she's not, but we're finding ways around it. There'll be people out there saying "It's only two weeks! Get over it."

That'd be fair comment for some people but we're one of those nauseating couples who would cheerfully spend every minute of every day together. I can pass round a sick bucket, if it's be easier for you all.

On to other things - I don't know how many of you have found yourselves a Google+ invite. If you haven't and you'd like one, I can probably accommodate friends! That's a caveat, by the way. If anyone I don't know springs out of the woodwork having found their way here by searching for the aforementioned social network and begs an invite they can get knotted!

At some point in the next few days I'll be explaining why it's better than Facebook and Twitter and why I'm liking it so much already. Probably.

Back

So it's been nearly a month since I was here. A lot of that time has been spent doing "the word thing" at work. They pay the bills.

Have I been too drained to blog? Maybe so. Maybe so. I've tried once or twice. Sat here looking at a blank page, without any idea of what to type, without any idea whether it'd be any good if I did. It's very easy just to post links to Facebook or to Google+, the virtual way of saying "Hey, look at this!" without having to elaborate. Those closest to me will attest that I'm hardly a chatterbox.

Sometimes things move me so much that my faltering sentences don't do it justice. You'd have to look into my eyes to know how deeply I'm feeling things. Video-blogging? I don't think so, thanks a million. Not even if it were possible. It might be. Don't know.

What I want to  remember is that I may work with words all week but that doesn't mean that I can't enjoy them when I'm not at work.

I've been fine, thanks for asking. Weary, because I've been working hard. I've had some lovely moments and days with my beautiful girl and I'm always looking forward to the next.

Life is good. I work hard because it's what's needed. I have a future to build and to plan for. There are worse jobs I could be doing.I'd still kind of like to move before winter but it will have to be a pretty special place. The memories I've made in this house have given it a tremendous aura and I'm very content. Stone floors in the depths of winter, though...

It's late so I'm done. The sun will rise tomorrow and I'll be at work. I'll be deeply in love and I'll be back Twirling again in less than a month. Promise.

Happy Monday

Well if the rest of my week's holiday is as enjoyable and relaxing as Monday I shall be a very contented dude.

I'm sat on my bed now with the soft light of an almost full moon drifting in through the window. There have been worse times in my life. It's a very mild night in Cork and kinda peaceful. Goodnight, everyone.

Degrees

So it's suddenly got too hot. It's been building for a couple of days but I've spent them in an air-conditioned building. That's not always a good thing but it was on Thursday and Friday. Today there was nowhere to hide and I've been slowly melting. Even now at twenty past 1 in the morning I'm uncomfortably warm. At least it's an excuse, if I needed one, to be sat up listening to the "new" Rory Gallagher album Notes From San Francisco. Hugely impressive.

As you may have noticed, I haven't been here much recently. I'm very grateful that some of you have getting dropping by, just to see if anything's happening.

I've been in rather a strange head-space. It's far from clinical depression (I've seen that. I know what it looks like), more akin to what Keats called "horrid morbidity of temperament". My bubble of good humour has been very easily pricked and I've taken slights far more to heart than usual. I may just be in need of a break. If that's so, it's good that I have the week after next off work. Apart from one day of it, I have no specific plans. I'll just play it by ear, so to speak.

It's lights out time, I think. Whether I'll be able to settle, remains to be seen. I certainly won't need to snuggle under a duvet tonight!

Not going there

It's been a Goddamned funny day. I woke up feeling convinced that something had happened while I was sleeping that I ought to know about. And I don't just mean that students had pushed next door's bin over or something like that. I was certain, from the second I opened my eyes that something of import had occurred. So much so that before my eyes were even properly clear I was scanning my usual news websites to find out what it was.

Nothing apparent. Yes, there's bloodshed in the Middle-East and financiers being charged with sex-crimes but I wouldn't expect either of these things to seep into my sub-conscious while I'm sleeping. I eventually got up, showered and went out for brunch with friends, still with something nagging at my mind. As an aside, can I say that the brunch was highly enjoyable - good food, good people and it could probably only have been improved if my Pretty Lady had been able to make it.

The people at the brunch know me as a fairly quiet guy so they may not even have noticed that I was a little preoccupied. I was able to push it one side for most of the time I was in company but after I'd kindly been given a lift home it flooded back. I couldn't settle in the house doing anything. I couldn't watch TV, listen to music, read or even attempt to do any work. I tried going for a walk in the hope that the wind in my face and spring flowers in my eyes might help but it was no good. The wind annoyed me and the flowers didn't seem to have their usual lustre.

So I've spent the evening doing what I usually do, but to the unexplained accompaniment of glasses sliding on the draining board, the wood of the bedroom floor feeling strange under my feet and something like an itch that I can't scratch worriting at me.

It's fine, though, Grand, even. It's nearly summertime and they do special discounts on travel to Crazy. It won't cost me an arm and a leg to lose my mind!

Here and now

I'm very, very lucky. In the eyes of one glorious woman, I'm a remarkable man.

As far as the rest of creation is concerned, I'm wholly unremarkable. I'm just a man. I'm good at some things, not so good at others and downright crap at some.

I'm not bad with words occasionally. It often takes me time to think of the order that they should go in though, which is why I'm better with the written word than the spoken one. And I'm good at being alone. I can watch TV, listen to music, amuse myself, talk to to plants, soft toys and myself.

I'm not good at being lonely, though. It'll pass. I'll wake up tomorrow and everything will be all right again. It's not long until Monday and I might even see some friends over the weekend. But here, here and now, I'm lonely. I have a pillow to hug.

Back in the habit

A very beautiful lady pointed out that I haven't blogged for an awful long time. I just checked and it was April 24th. Wow, time flies!

This hasn't been a conscious decision. There've been a couple of times since then when I've meant to post something but I've just never seemed to get around to it. I think I've been missing a bit of "zing" recently. If you'll pardon the cliché, my get up and go got up and went. And it's probably too late tonight to try to get it back.

But I'm getting back into the habit.

A Fine Whine

Ouch! I don't know what I've done but my shoulder is killing me. Not literally, of course, but it's bloody sore. I guess I've pulled something in it somehow. I'll live.

Whatever it is, it can't be down to overexertion as I've had a fairly lazy day. Ibuprofen tomorrow, je pense. Although I can't spend too long wandering around as I have some Work work to do. It doesn't bother me really - I have nothing much better to do and typing is likely to aggravate my shoulder less than ironing. That's my story, anyway!

So I'm going to settle down to sleep and try to aim some good vibes the way of my pains. I know that an aching shoulder is small potatoes compared to what some people have to deal with but like anyone else I tend to focus on my own ills more than those of others. My bad. So enough of the whinging, for tonight at least.

A Small Brain Dump

Last night I slept really well. I was asleep at what you might describe as A Sensible Time and slept through until my alarm went off.

So what's different about tonight, I wonder? I've got a busy day tomorrow and will probably end up working for a fair bit of the weekend, even if I don't go into the office. That's ok too - it's not like I have anything else planned. I could use a sustained run of sleeping well, though. And now of course, I'm a little concerned about being able to get a bus tomorrow. I'd forgotten it was Good Friday. Damn. I can't afford a cab so if there isn't a bus I guess I'm walking.

There must be a way to check on bus times using my mobile. That'll be something to focus my mind in the morning.

I hope it's not raining when I wake, assuming I eventually sleep. Usually I can get a lift but not tomorrow morning. I don't mind - there's a good reason for it and it's not an unpleasant walk. Kind of reminds me of when I first started working there and how far I've come in a little under two years. So that's a good thing right?

I'm sure I'm worrying needlessly. I remember that there are extra buses on Monday morning so I'm sure there'll be something tomorrow. Tiredness doesn't help the anxiety, I guess, so it's time to try to find the path to dreamland again.

Drama King

My apologies to anyone who reads my Facebook status updates. Today was kind of a rollercoaster. By "today" I mean Wednesday, just to clarify as it's after midnight.

I guess that's what the updates are for but I feel a little guilty about dragging you into my dramas. I'm okay, really. It was just a day that started badly and took a while to get it back on track. I'm hoping that I've broken the back of it and that the next two days will be a touch easier on my head.

It's a very mild night in Cork tonight so I hope I'll be able to sleep. I got to spend some lovely time with my Pretty Lady earlier on and I'm hoping that's mellowed me out enough to settle properly. I'll set the sleep timer on my radio and drift of to a little music, I think. Sweet dreams, everyone. I hope you can all snuggle up with your loved one, or at least with the thought of them.

Hoots!

Jeez, I can't believe it's been 10 days! Don't the time fly, even when we're not throwing Alarm Clocks around.

The itching hasn't gone yet. It's moved, which I guess makes it more liveable with but it's getting mighty old, I don't mind telling you. If I could type with a pair of scratch-mitts on, I'd be wearing them 24/7 at the moment.

Today didn't help that. I don't know whether I may have subconsciously invoked it, or been psychologically unprepared for the start of the week but Monday morning hit me straight, smack, plumb between the eyes. Bastard. I reeled but didn't go down (no smutty jokes please!). I hung on for dear life and as the hours rolled on I started to work my way back into things a little. Next time I have to face a Monday I shall bite kick and pull hair.

Since we last spent any time in each other's company I've had a few days away in Scotland with my Pretty Lady. She was asked to go over and deliver some training there and I was able to get time off at short notice to travel with her. I worked from our hotel room while she was away during the day but we got to spend the evenings together, to travel together, to fall asleep and wake up together. I may even find a picture to add to the end of this post later.

Or I may not, depending on my mood.

Scratches

Whether it's stress, that I'm "run down" or whether it's just because, I feel like a mass of irritations at the moment.

Not psychological ones, for the most part - I mean that I itch.

I got several good suggestions for ways to treat it from friends this evening, so I'll start to try some of those out. It is actually driving me crazy, and it's far from being an attractive look. Not even I can wear this one well!

I don't have much to say here tonight, especially given the hour. I just wanted to check in to let anyone who passes know that I'm still here, still standing. Not literally standing, of course. That would make the whole typing thing a little more difficult than it needs to be. And thank God I'm not employed for my typing skills, that's all I can say on the subject.

Okay then, the time is now tomorrow morning o'clock so I'm going to snuggle down into my pillow and go in search of sweet dreams. With any luck, gentle reader, the next time I write here, it'll be something that merits reading a little more.

Heads!

Why are so many things positioned at head height?

I understand that it's the best height for some things, I really do, although I can't think of any at the moment. Mirrors, I suppose. Anyway. I'm talking about things that seem intended as booby traps. Like the overhead "racks" on coaches. They're not big enough to put anything other than a coat on, and the coaches that run out to the airport specifically ask you not to put bags on them. The bloody great things almost loom out into the aisles, though and yes, before you ask, I hit my head on one today.

That was less painful and less embarrassing than the first knock I took, though. The canteen at work has two sinks for employees to use to wash up their mugs etc. Over each is a plastic holder for a large "kitchen roll" type thing. And they're positioned at about head height. See where I'm going with this one? They don't have to be anywhere near reachable with one's head. If they were behind the sinks then it'd take a pretty serious effort to crack your forehead off one, rather than just being a little dopey first thing, chatting while reaching for roll and not really paying attention.

There's no need for it. I'm just sayin'...

The Light Of A Candle

I can be strong. I can listen while someone rants and vents. My shoulders are strong enough to bear the weight of other people's upset. Don't get me wrong though, I'm no saint and I'm no superman. Sometimes the most unexpected things bring tears sparking to my eyes.

Today my Pretty Lady and I went out for eats after work. We were just chatting and joking over our meal. I'd had trouble hearing her all the time we were there until the waitress put a new candle on our table. Suddenly I could hear. Astonishing. Polly smiled and told me it was because the candle was a "magic listening candle". I felt my face twist, just a little, and suddenly everything was blurred. It was just the right balance of magical, mystical, childlike (in a very good way) and funny that I could hardly believe it. Just one of the many, many reasons that I love her.

She's working from home for the rest of the week - a well-deserved break from the commute, anyway. I'll miss her loads until I see her on Friday evening but I'll cope.

So I'm back on the buses for the rest of the week. Not a problem. I'll need to be up and out of the house at an early hour but that's okay too.

I'm thoroughly enjoying my new phone. I was right to go for the HTC Desire. I'm slowly finding out more and more about what it's capable of. It really is like carrying a computer around in my pocket. My two latest discoveries are from the Android Market app store. First up, the perfect news reading application - World Newspapers, which is just what I've been looking for. More of a "toy" is the Google Sky Map app. You just point your phone at the sky, and it will shows the stars, planets,
constellations, and more to help you identify the celestial objects in view. Very cool.

Right then, as I need to be up in the morning, I'd better try to get some sleep. Sweet dreams, everyone. I hope that theres a light in all your lives, like there is in mine.

The Day Of Rest?

Surreality? Surrealness? Something like that anyway. All my sensibilities are still outraged at a young girl, fun of fun and laughter, with a four year-old daughter, lying dead in a wooden box. All the crosses and candles in the world won't bring her back to see her daughter off on her first day at school. So sad.

In the nearly two years I've been in Ireland, I've rarely felt as much a foreigner as I did today. My ignorance of Catholic services is clearly a gap in my education but the removal today felt very alien to me. More accurately, I felt very alien to it. Not knowing any of the responses due to the Priest, I kept a respectful silence. It's not for me to show disrespect to anyone's beliefs or traditions. And all the time that box is sat in front of all of us.

I guess that none of know what any day, any moment may bring. For myself, I'll do what I always do - I'll live as best I can by my own lights. I'll work as hard as I know how, I'll treat others as I'd like for them to treat me (unless doing so becomes the equivalent of banging my head on the proverbial brick wall, in which case I'll shrug and leave them to their own devices) and I'll follow my heart.

For many people the most important question that they are ever asked, and the question they spend their lives in answering, is "How would you like to be remembered?"

For me, there is an easy one-word answer. It's the one I gave when I was first asked the question and I've never wavered: fondly.

The Dance

It's been a funny old week. I only worked for three days of it but seemed to fit an awful lot into those days. I'm still finding my feet in some aspects of the job and am maybe over-compensating a little and throwing myself at everything. I possibly need to step back and chill a little.

I'd booked Thursday and Friday off as holiday at short notice. I figured I've now been in Ireland long enough to celebrate St Patrick's Day with the locals, so strolled down to the parade in the city. It was a good vibe. Everyone seemed to be a happy mood so I wandered around for a while, fussed some random dogs, had a couple of pints and went home again.

My Lady was able to finish early on Friday and we went out for a late lunch and spent some time together. It was a little strange, to be honest. Friday lunchtime we'd received the shocking news that one of the girls at work had been killed in a car crash. I can't claim to have known the girl well but I liked her. The last time we spoke was on my birthday. Someone in her department had a birthday as well and they had cake, When she found it was my birthday too I got an e-mail from her inviting me down for a slice. She always had a smile and a joke for everyone. There'll be an Aoife-shaped hole in the building's heart from now on.

It's the first time that my Lady and I have dealt with a loss like this together. She was a huge support to me when my brother passed away in 2008 but that was hardly unexpected, this is different. So we've been learning the steps to the saddest of dances - the mourning, grieving dance. Learning to step lightly and thoughtfully, not hiding feelings and minding raw edges. It's not easy but we managed it.

On a lighter note, the moon is nearer to the earth than it's been for years, apparently. After several beautiful, clear, early spring nights in a row, I had hopes of being able to gaze at it for a while but the Irish weather has had other ideas. It's been raining most of the day and tonight the rain has brought along its good buddy Thick Fog for a visit. So no Moon bathing for me tonight!

Oh balls!

It sounded kind of tasty. "Roasted Irish Beef Meatballs with Chilli, served with Steamed Rice", although the random capitalisation is all my own work.

The rice was good and the chilli sauce was very tasty. The problem entirely centred on the meatballs. Precisely what part of Irish cattle these things came from, I shudder to think. No please, don't say it. You'll make me gag again.

Things had started swimmingly. I was enjoying lunch and everyone around me who had gone for the same option seemed to be enjoying them too. I went to cut into another meatball and found something that resisted my knife. Strongly. Magnificently, I chose that exact moment to find that the meatball I was currently chewing had something of the same consistency about it.

So I'm sat in the middle of a crowded canteen and what I really want to do is spit the damned thing out. Clearly this wasn't going to happen. Making no further attempt at all to chew, I swallowed and then gulped down most of a bottle of Lucozade. I enjoyed the rest of the rice and even managed to smile at those around me and make a few ghastly attempts to join in the conversation. Whatever was in the half-meatball left on my plate, and in the one I'd bravely swallowed has been haunting me all afternoon though. I wouldn't go so far as to use the expression "waves of nausea" but there were certainly gentle ripples of it.

See now I'm typing it, it's happening again! I really, really need to stop thinking about the day the canteen served bollocks for lunch!

Bonsai!

It was my birthday on Friday. After getting some advice from a certain lovely lady, the rest of my team presented me with, amongst other things including Lemon Cake, this beautiful specimen...

I'd been saying for some time that I wanted a plant for my desk but I never imagined that I'd end up with such a beautiful Bonsai. He's sat on my desk at work and I have named him Robert. Robert Plant - geddit??

I'm hoping that he's been okay over the weekend. I made sure that he was fed and watered but I feel kinda guilty about having left him there when we'd only just met. One of colleagues was in over the weekend and was given strict instructions to make sure he was okay, and to chat to him a little. So, first thing in the morning it'll be coffee for me and my pretty girl, water for Robert.

To sleep, perchance

Nearly every morning this week I've been struck by how spring-like everything is. Trees breaking out in cherry-pink and apple-blossom white, just th smell of spring in the air. Then of course, I wake up today to find snow in the air. I know that it's not unheard of in March and that it was forecast but it still surprised me.

I seem to remember snow in June one year when I was still at primary school. I can't tell you exactly which year or even if it definitely happened. It's more of an impression that I have. It was, after all, a long time ago now.

And speaking of a long time ago, I know that Nicotine replacement patches say on the packs that they may interfere with sleep patterns (or something like that) but if I'd realised quite how much of a problem sleeping would become I may well have kept smoking! I'm now taking a herbal remedy (not that kind of herbal remedy!) to try to combat it. I can either get to sleep straight away and then wake during the night or have hell and all trouble settling before sleeping through. Quite frankly, it's a pain in the arse. I even downloaded an app to my new phone which will play "ambient" sounds - wind, rain, birdsong etc etc. Does it help? Hard to say but I'm about to try again.

I'm actually developing a headache so the time to turn off the computer has clearly come. Sweet dreams, everyone.

Kind Of Testing

So I'm taking advantage of the free Wi-fi in the pub and checking out the Blogger application for my new phone.

How well it'll format we'll have to see. If I'm not happy with it there are third-party apps for Blogger or I could always use the browser and go straight to the home page and post from there.

Now, I need to get ready for Ireland v Wales.

By Special Request

I hope, at some point soon, to get to a point where I don't have to start each post with an apology for how it's been since the last one. Clearly that isn't going to be tonight. Sorry it's been so long, guys.

It's not like I haven't had stuff to blog about, I just haven't got around to it. When I've been sat here in the evening I've just been doing other stuff - reading, watching TV, listening to music and just playing on the internet. I just haven't been motivated to blog. No, "motivated" is the wrong word. I've sat here and thought "I want to blog."

I just haven't got around to it, somehow.

So what's been happening? I got around to getting myself a new phone. I now have one of these...

...which I'm very happy with, thank you for asking. It's a little big to comfortably fit in the pocket of a pair of tight jeans but we all have our cross to bear, right?

I could have gone on for a little longer but I seem to have dozed off in front of the computer and it's now 10 to 3 in the morning. This means I should probably shut down and get some proper sleep. I'll try to pick this up again tomorrow. Or later today. You know what I mean.

Late

No, I haven't forgotten about it here.

I'm just too tired in the evenings to get anything sensible written here. I'm just about holding it together through the day but by the time I get home from work my powers of invention have deserted me completely. I mean, I'm just rambling now.

Not that I can sleep at the moment, of course. Oh no. So I listen to music and I read. Refilling myself with words, almost. Refuelling. Recharging.

Proximity

I'm quite prepared to accept the statistics that show that air travel is safer than driving, crossing the road, hanging wallpaper and combing your hair. You know what I mean.

Until I moved to Ireland I had never flown in an aeroplane. Even now I've only flown three times. There's an impression of safety that one gets though. I know that planes crash occasionally, killing hundreds of people but it's removed somehow. It's something that happens a long way away and is only seen on the news.

On Thursday a plane crashed while trying to land in fog at Cork Airport, which is about five minutes brisk walk from the Airport Business Park where I work. I think I maybe even heard it happen. There were 12 people on board the place, six of whom survived. Two of them walked away from it, miraculously. Everyone I spoke with in our building was very upset and shaken by it. Having something like this happen so close to you brings home somehow just how quickly things can go wrong. My deepest sympathies to the families and friends of those who weren't lucky.

Thirteen

A young lady of my acquaintance celebrated her 13th birthday this weekend. This set me thinking - what can I remember of being 13? 

The year was 1979 and the world was a very different place. I was at an all-boys school and was painfully shy. I was no athlete or sportsman and was no academic high-flier either. I was spectacularly ordinary, I guess.

One way in which I might not have been so ordinary is that I was aware of what was going on around the world. Dad always had the 9 o'clock news on the TV and I'd gotten into the habit of watching the early evening news myself. Add to this the fact that I would always read the newspaper and I was pretty clued-in.

I remember that in 1979 Margaret Thatcher was elected Prime Minister and both Lord Mountbatten and Airey Neave met untimely ends. The Shah left Iran and Ayatollah Khomeini moved back in and the Soviet Union invaded Afghanistan. That's without looking stuff up. All of that is more what happened in the year I was 13 than what it was like to be 13, though.

It's nearly 32 years ago and I'm a little foggy about it, to be honest. I remember being shy, as I said, and quiet. I remember being anxious, ready to see the worst in everything and probably more than a little paranoid. How much of this is typical among 13-year old boys I couldn't say. I wasn't an only child but the nearest of my sisters to me in age was 16 years older than I was so I may as well have been an only child. Effectively I was brought up by five adults - my parents and brother and sisters. Did this make me different to other kids? I guess that everyone is different in some way or another and that's as far as I'm going with this at this time of night.

Randomiser

Courtesy of the Random Word Generator, today's word is "Dustbin".

A dustbin today is almost a redundant concept. The nearest we might get to one is a bin in a kitchen for waste. The Wheelie Bins that are ubiquitous on our streets on collection today are almost nothing like the dustbins we had when I was a child. They were actually made out of metal, can you imagine that? They looked a little like this

although not as shiny, usually.

The rattle of a dustbin lid being replaced is one of those sounds that resonates through the years. It reminds me of school holidays when I'd be at home for the collection and could watch through the window, not being allowed outside in case I got in the way.

Never mind mechanical contrivances to lift them, readers of A Certain Age will probably remember that these things were manually lifted and emptied into a Dustcart by a breed known as Dustmen. These guys were strange and almost kind of otherworldly to me when I was five or six. Tradesmen who visited the house were respectful and deferential but the dustmen were filled with pet names and nicknames for everyone. And for some reason they had to have gifts when they made their last rounds before Christmas - a peculiarity of my mother's that I've never understood.

I haven't seen a metal dustbin for more years than I care to remember.

Suddenly February

I'm sorry that it's been so long. I didn't mean to leave it longer than a week.

I've got into the swing of things in the new job and when I've got home in the evenings I've just been chilling. I honestly haven't thought about blogging before tonight. What I have been trying to do is ensure that all the music I have on my iPod is backed up on a spare hard disk and that it has all the relevant artwork. Slightly OCD here remember? I now need to summon up the courage to sync the iPod with the backed up memory... oh, and the patience. It's likely to take a little while.

I am also pleased to say that I'm still not smoking. It's been very difficult sometimes but I'm just about coping. Strangely, I can still almost taste cigarettes in my mouth sometimes, which is a little disconcerting. One thing I've noticed is that when passing someone smoking in the street I'm now aware that I don't like the smell of cigarettes very much. I think I'm done for good this time.

After the kind of gap of gap I've left since I last blogged there ought to be something more profound for me to say. And there is. But it's a little late for that.

Almost

It must be colder than I thought tonight. I turned the shower on and was just letting it run for a minute or two when the water flow spluttered and nearly quit. I've seen that before - the water was frozen in the pipe.

Or rather, nearly frozen. The water just about managed to get going again. Another five minutes may have been too late. I knew that it was frosty outside but didn't realise that things were quite that far below zero. I'm very pleased that I'm not having to walk for a bus in the morning.

I hope that I sleep a little better tonight than I did last night. For whatever reason, I was awake for a fair proportion of the night. There weren't bad dreams or anything like that, I just couldn't settle. The only thing that I can put it down to is that Saturday evening I suddenly had to change my behaviour due to someone unexpected walking through a shop doorway. And I'll go no further than that.

Having had an unsettled night, I should probably be turning in as I'm back to work tomorrow. So for tonight, that is all!

Caught!

I thought of an analogy today.

My first two weeks in the job have made me feel like a cricketer, with chunks of information flying over my head. I've managed to catch some of them...

...and as for the rest, if I can continue with the cricketing theme, I may not have caught those balls but I know where they went and I can get them if and when I need them!

I have a Team Night Out with my new team this evening. I don't know what any of the rest of them have planned but after the whiskey-fuelled debacle of the other weekend I will be keeping things lightweight. I have to be back at work and compos mentis tomorrow!

Coded

For a Monday, today was a good day.

I learned just how rusty my html coding is but through sheer bloody-mindedness I was able to get through what I was meant to. I sit next to my new manager and she admitted that she was "throwing everything at Greg" this afternoon. That's okay too. I guess she's after finding out what I can handle.

I also learned that Polly and I have tickets for the "Post-Peak Party", to be held at one of Cork's swankier hotels in just under two weeks. It's a slightly themed party and I may be going out to try to hire what our American cousins would call a tuxedo. In which case there may be photographs!

Enough about work. I'm dangerously close to the edge of my self-imposed prohibition on posting about my job. So what else? I'm still off the cigarettes and at the risk of jinxing it, I'm not suffering too much. I even wandered over to my local yesterday afternoon to watch a rugby game and didn't feel any kind of compulsion to try to scrounge a smoke from anyone. This is a good thing.

I've adjusted the time of day that I apply a new nicotine patch, which seems to help with any difficult urges late at night. Or at least, tobacco-related urges! As this is a family show, I should probably stop there.

So I'm still at work at the moment. Not working myself (as you can tell) but just waiting for the prettiest girl in the world to finish what she needs to finish before we leave. I'm perfectly content sat here with her. Beats the Hell out of gazing blankly at a TV!

Good Signs and Positivity

This has got to be a good sign. It's now... what?.. just after half past midday and I only just realised that I haven't put a fresh nicotine patch on yet today. Although I'm still having the occasional awkward moment with it, I really do think that I'm kinda done with the cigarettes. Yay me!

Of course just typing that meant that I wanted one. I now have a new patch on my arm. I'm getting there.

So my first week in the new job went as well as I might have hoped. Parts of it I already have a bit of an idea about and other parts I think I'll pick up fairly quickly. Without going into unnecessary detail there are parts that I think I'll struggle with a little initially but there are people there to help me and everyone has to learn a new job when they go into it, right? I'll be "grand" as the locals would say. I know who to reach out to for help if I need it and I think I know in what areas I won't need any.

It's like an early spring day in Cork today. After about four days of constant rain, day and night, the sun has come out. Everything smells fresh, rejuvenated, new. I can't wait for spring. This is going to be a year of positive progress, I just know it. I can feel it in my bones, I can taste it in the air. I shall be looking around for a new place to live when summer gets here, which is without the little quirks that this place has. Don't get me wrong, this place has some immensely happy memories but the constant leaks when the rain falls are getting to be an annoyance and the stone floors mean that it's very cold in winter. A spare room would be nice, as would better heating and a newer kitchen We'll see what I can find.

This is kind of funny. I have the internal company "chat" facility open and am "in a call" with my Pretty Lady. We're not actually talking though. It's the equivalent of a comfortable silence between us. I can hear her typing and she can probably hear my typing and the music in the background. It's just nice to have the connection and to know that there's this something bringing us even closer.

As the weather is a little kinder today I shall venture out later. I may have a little walk and as Munster have an important rugby game this afternoon, I may even drop into the local pub to watch it in the company of manic Munster fans! Then a relaxed evening and possible an early night to get ready for tomorrow morning.

No Fire

The not smoking thing is going quite well. Just.

I just had a close shave with the whole tobacco thing. Close but no cigarette, if you'll pardon the expression. The urge has just come back even stronger so it's a good thing that I called it out already on Facebook or I'd probably be lighting up now. As it is I'm now getting the nibbles. I might be 16 stones by the time this is over!

And about an hour and a half later and I'm awake again. Just terrific. Quick stroll down to the bathroom, lights out again and try to relax...

Café Olé

Right. Yes. So. Blogging before midnight. Just. Starting anyway.

It's now rained for long enough and hard enough that I've had to give up on soaking up the drips from the leak over the bedroom window with towels and have had to put a bucket in place to catch them. The constant sound of "plop" is driving me crazy! I should maybe get in touch with the landlord and landlady. I'm not honestly sure why I haven't. One of the reasons is that whenever I've had any reason to ask them to get something fixed before, it's been treated with a certain amount of "fuss about nothing" and the work, when it's finally been done, hasn't been to the highest standard. I'll think about it.

Slightly random jump here but I was thinking about Jellyfish today. Not specifically for any reason - just about about what strange, beautiful creatures they are.

And speaking of strange and beautiful creatures, a quick word about Geminis. Those of us who know and love one understand that their moods may swing suddenly from one pole to the other. This is never going to stop us being worried when they're miserable / upset / unhappy. Just sayin'...

Starting Over

Day one of the new job went fairly well I think.

It's not like I actually "did" very much. Obviously there's training to be had and permissions to be sorted out. As the days go by and I get more into the job I kind of think I'll enjoy it more and more. The people I'm going to be working with are a nice crowd and they're not strangers to me, which is nice.

I'm actually a little concerned that I may have cracked the crown on my front tooth. Quite honestly, I don't need the expense of getting it repaired/replaced so I hope I'm mistaken. I'll keep a eye on it, as much as that's possible with one's own teeth and hopefully it'll prove to be nothing to worry about. At least until the new job filters through to the pay-slip.

And now to bed, I think. It's a little later than I wanted to be up but I wanted to jot a few things down here. Note to self: blog earlier in the evening. Preferably before midnight!

Over-hanging

I was reclining here watching a DVD when I became aware of a strange roaring sound. It took a couple of seconds before I realised that it was the sound of rain on the roof. I'm very, very pleased that I don't have to get up horribly early to walk down into the the city to get a bus. My Pretty Lady has offered to come and pick me up in the morning...for the first day of my new job!

I remembered some thing over this weekend. I remembered how thoroughly, how whole-heartedly and how deeply I hate to have a hangover. On Friday night my Pretty Lady and I went out to a moderately swanky hotel hotel for a meal with a good friend of ours. We had wine with the meal and then repaired to the bar. I would only be guessing at the time we left the bar. From there we went back to our friend's placxe and kept drinking and singing and playing guitars and drinking. All apparently without waking her husband. What time we called it a night and went our ways to bed is as much of a mystery to me as are Quadratic Equations. All I know is that I woke, about 4.30 on Saturday afternoon, with a mouth as dry as the Mojavé Desert and very, very wobbly on my feet. A few hours later and I only just managed to get out of a car before, well, I guess "blowing cookies" is rather a distasteful expression.

So I think I may be done with the heavy drinking. The word "hangover" doesn't even begin to hint at the total breakdown of capabilities and functions. Next time we go out, I think I may stop after three or four drinks and go onto fruit juice or tea or something that won't make my brain dribble out of my ears.

Before I turn in for the night, can I just mention here that I haven't had a cigarette since last Thursday. I would have liked one tonight but managed to resist. Yay me!

Can't sleep...

...which isn't good. The cold doesn't help but I think the biggest problem is that when I get home in the afternoon I doze off. Having to get up so early to get the bus takes it's toll as the day goes on. I won't be sorry to see the back of starting at 7 o'clock.

Conjuration

Here's a New Year's Resolution - I'm not going to come down with something flu-like again. At least not in the foreseeable future.

I've had the tickle at the back of the throat going on all day and have been alternately too hot and too cold. I'm dosing myself with paracetamol/decongestant and will kill off this SOB with a positive mental attitude. I'm just not having it. I felt ill enough in the week before Christmas to last me a couple of months, thank you very much.

This is my last week in my current job. My schedule was perfect, in that I was meant to be working Sunday to Thursday and then have a long weekend before starting my new role. This has now been changed to Sunday to wednesday, then Saturday, before starting the new job on Monday the 10th. I'm not best impressed by this but I guess I'll have to roll with the punches. I'll see what I can do about it tomorrow.

"Tomorrow". There's a word to conjure with. While all seems to have been doom and gloom in 2010, I seemed to get on fairly well. Aside from having a cold, 2011 seems to be starting quite well too. Despite all the woe forecast for the next 12 months things look fairly rosy on my horizon. Obviously no-one can predict what's around the corner with any accuracy but I seem to have every reason for optimism, which seems to be becoming my default setting, more and more. My promotion has come at a good time, I'm looking to move somewhere a little more comfortable at some point over the summer, and the fact that I'm paying sizeable chunks of money into a pension scheme every month leads me to believe that I may be comfortable, at least, in the more distant future. I have plans, hopes and dreams. At the moment, I have no reason to assume that any of them are beyond me. Yay!

Happy New Year

2011. It doesn't seem possible. I remember all the years growing up that I used to think to myself "When it's the year 2000 I'll be 34!"

The thought that we're now 11 years past that blows my mind a little.

So as the first day of the New Year draws to a close, I hope that it's been good to all of you. I haven't exchanged a word with a single person today, unless one counts text messages (or soft toys!) and that's okay too. I was up until the wee small hours of the morning so was quite happy to have a relaxing day, just chilling.

Don't get the impression that I was out carousing till all hours, though. I went for a couple of sociable pints after work and was back in the house by 10 o'clock, I guess. Any more than three or four pints and it takes more than one day to get over it, which wasn't going to be practical as my last week of starting work at stupid o'clock commences tomorrow.

A new year is a time for new beginnings - resolutions and all that. I haven't made any resolutions at all but I do have a new beginning on the horizon. Monday the 10th I start my new job as a Project Specialist and I can't wait. I've been working with a very cool bunch of people and it'll seem odd not to be, but I'll still be in the same buiding. I'm  ready for the new challenge and am itching to get at it. There's only one thing that I want more than the new job and you all know what that is.

New horizons in front of me and the love of the most beautiful girl in the world. Who knows what the next 12 months might hold? Not I, that's for sure. As an immediate wish, I'd kind of like it if the ringing in my ears from my fall would go away. I know that I was lucky but if I could push that luck just a little, the ringing is starting to bug me and my head is still a little tender. Enough, please!

I hope that 2011 brings happiness and joy to you all. May your dreams come true and may your problems all be itty-bitty ones!