New years resolutions and other pipedreams.

Part eighteen again.

It must be that time of year again, signs and portents and all that. There were some amazing skies in Ireland and I took full photographic advantage, to the point where it was all getting a bit clichéd.

I’m still gutted that I missed the really big seas, imagine the force of a full on Atlantic storm when it hits it’s first landfall… Or perhaps it’s just as well I wasn’t there, so I wasn’t tempted to perch on some precarious outcrop and teeter in the teeth of the storm in order to take piccies of the approaching tsunami…..

Actually, once it stopped raining and I achieved a semi upright position for more than ten minutes, some of the skies oooop North were pretty impressive. There was a particularly outstanding one somewhere along the A1, I was so tempted to pull over and root my camera out. Except there’s nowhere to pull over and even if there had been I would most likely have ended up with an extensive collection of trucks as Armageddon rolled on by, obliterating the sunset. I did try to take a couple with my mobile, but as I’m sure the forces of law and order will tell you, it’s a bad idea to play with fiddly technology while doing ummmmm, slightly over seventy in the fast lane? Anyway, the pictures were a washout of blurry nothing.

 Despite this and somewhat against my better judgement, I have decided to purchase a proper camera. This was most likely down to the influence of flu and drugs. Shops have been visited (even out of town superstores, which I regard as a sort of mind numbing limbo, sponsored by the government to keep the populace brain dead and designed to part the afflicted from their cash while they aren’t looking). Websites have been trawled (mostly not by me). Advice has been sought (and left me feeling more ignorant than when I started). The result is that I still intend to buy pretty much the first camera I looked at! Of course this means I will also have to replace my poor old laptop :-(, it's served me well, but can't seem to run more than two tabs at a time now. The amount this is going to cost is scary. I’m trying hard not to think about it.

Now that I am no longer feeling like boiled shite, I am attempting to introduce a new regime in the hope of getting stuff done. Top of the list is ‘Get up when I wake up’. Now this might sound obvious, but my body clock is a little messed up. The reason for this can (as usual) be attributed to Himself. He is, as I may have mentioned, a creature of the night, he was most offended when, in the early days of the relationship I christened him ‘Nosferatu’… (after he had Googled it!). 

He thinks that about 9pm is a good time for dinner, followed by a stroll down to the pub about 10.30. Invariably he remains till well after last orders and normally gets home about 1am, just in time for a little light paperwork. Bedtime is somewhere in the wee hours. Morning is something that happens to other people, particularly as he is liable to react badly to sunlight (it makes him grumpy, but so does cloud and rain). I am normally serenaded at 7.30 by the morning fart, a prizewinner of some decibels, this is succeeded by a gentler chorus of coughs and snores. Having roused the beast beneath the bed, she snuffles and wriggles for a while before emerging, shaking herself vigorously and asking either to go out or get into my bed. I then lie there hallucinating gently until his alarm clock goes off and we go back to sleep. I am convinced this is unhealthy, particularly as it has become a habit even in his absence.

In common with most of the rest of the population, my new year’s resolution was to get a bit fitter and loose some lard (I tried to wear the dress I wore to my daughter’s wedding five years ago. It didn’t go well). Therefore, I am determined that the dog and I will go for a brisk two mile walk every morning. Whatever the weather. I hope she forgives me eventually. I also hope to fulfil an ambition and sign up at the local climbing wall. I love swinging out of the rigging on a Tallship, but it’s not terribly convenient.

I thought it would be a great way to get fit. There’s only one small problem.

In a futile attempt to inject a little glamour into my life, I went to a small nail bar to have my nails done. Now I have never even been inside one of these places before, and I have to say the fumes did wonders for my sinusitis (temporarily), but I was utterly clueless when confronted by a smiling Vietnamese lady and an astonishing range of multicoloured talons. Luckily there was another lady having her nails done who managed to explain that I just wanted white tips (I did???). These were applied by a young man who appeared to have no English whatsoever. I realised this when I asked if he could make the claws he had just superglued to my fingers significantly shorter and more rounded and well, more normal. He smiled broadly, nodded and looked expectant. It turned out he just wanted my money. Weakened by flu, I gave up, paid up and left.

This is why you should always wear gloves....

Since then I have been unable to pick up small objects, type accurately or pick my nose. On a more positive note, they are wonderful for giving the dog a really good scratch and very handy for getting right into the corners with decorators caulk. Getting the stuff (and everything else) out from under them is bloody impossible though. Anyway, my climbing ambitions are on hold until the damn things drop off.

I am also working on a little bit of product development. While I was in Ireland I spent some of my  evenings (whilst watching endless Father Ted DVDs, I wonder if it FECK affected my ARSE sorry, brain) making driftwood frames and stuff with rope and paper boats made from old charts.

Grommet mirror (not the cartoon dog!)

Driftwood frame

another driftwood frame

Blackboards

Driftwood boat with sails cut from old charts

Paper boats made from old charts

I picture myself in attendance in my delightful little gallery and workshop (that is, my garage, I will have to remove the spuds and firewood), chatting to customers and sipping tea, or possibly pimms while the sun shines and the birds sing as the punters hand over their cash. The reality is I live in a place that gave the arse end of nowhere it’s name, so far off the beaten track it’s almost come full circle. My ‘drive’ is treacherous even in relatively good weather and it will probably be bloody raining anyway. Who am I kidding???