A few drinkie-poos in the local later, and I’m ready for bed now that I’m home. Had a weird sort of irritating day in work, it happens. The things I’ve been thinking about don’t translate well into a blog tonight, so I’ll have to leave it at this. Except, I will ask, if you’ll allow me to be so bold – in your wildest dreams – have you ever felt like you have a power, some supernatural or super-hero like power – can you tell me what it is? Mine, for instance, is a feeling like having a disposable magnetic or electrical charge in my hands, that I can spin up to a ferocious energy and unleash via my hands. Or, also, (actually, in a similar vein) I sometimes feel like I might just be able to put the lights out, just by willing them to. I have a few others, but I’ll wait and see what your ones are first

oh lads, so tired. Had a wee half bottle of red and one to many choccies and I’m just like a deflated baloon, a really sleepy, fuggy-headed deflated baloon. Grand day, got dehydrated and a little thick earlier because I forgot my flask of tea for work, but other than that a pleasant and nondescript sort of day. Except for the cold, which was serious this morning. Fire lit at eleven and the two of us glued to it about fifteen minutes later.

Anyways, that’s alls I gots. I have a question though – does anyone have any Halloween traditions or memories they’d like to share? I dressed up as a cat almost every year and adored the bonfire, not so much the fireworks, which I still amen’t crazy about. We’ve bought in sweeties for the little children who call around and we’re getting a pumpkin tomorrow (mmm, must make pumpkin soup)… anyway, please share, if you care to…

Night, x

The potential irritant of the morning turned out well, but was of course replaced by something else as these things tend to be. It’s nothing major, just some phone calls and readjustment and we found a solution, let’s just say one of the babies (who I usually talk about more on the other site) is going to be spending the weekend with his Granny in Meath.

I got lots done in library-land today, including detangling the uberpile of wires and mess behind my desk that no one appearred to have gone near since the year dot. This clearing enabled me to move a lot of crap from the window sill and the unit infront of it, thus showering the room in far more light than previously. Amazing what a little light can do to make a place seem bigger and cleaner.

This evening we had yesterdays stew, which was just as delicious. And then not much more happened. Yup. Nadda. Enjoyed a highly pleasant bowl of granola this morning. Dreamt about a crocodile in a post-apocalyptic supermarket and a man who looked like Al Pacino who came to enslave all of us that hadn’t moved on fast enough. Today was the coldest day of autumn so far, as such I wore my thermal long johns for the first time (there’s only a tiny radiator in the lib and a hole near the window which lets in a perishing draft, the joy of old crumbly buildings). The leaves took a new turn of colour after last nights frost. I have become addicted to sitting right beside the fire in the chairs from Cavan and taking my socks off for to toast my toesies. Drat you Kate you have me slavering over Paul Gross again. The man is too good looking. Far too good looking, and so lovely. Sigh. I don’t have time to paste it in properly, go click.

Night!

Two days of uninterrupted sitting by the fire, reading, contemplating, relaxing, enjoying. Recharging, learning and settling. Oh, and eating. It’s just literally gotten dark, as in the changing of the clocks, and already, the chocolate and crisp cravings have kicked in. This year I will not be a slave to them. This is the time of doing, not frigging thinking about it. I can hear ‘I have the power’ playing in my head.

Tomorrow morning may contain irritations. Benny (and me) forgot, in the midst of everything that happened last week, to collect his dole money. I am picturing the jumping, and the hoops, and the pointlessness, but I am also trying to think ‘what’s the point in feeling negative about it’. I also have an impending visit from an important person to my workplace, so I’m going in early with vacuum and clothes and so on. There’s nothing really wrong with anything in there the way it is right now, it’s certainly a lot better than it was (even the customers have been complimenting it), but I like to overachieve, it helps me feel less anxious.

I made a ton of granola this morning. Twice the usual quantity. I took photos, but I’m writing this on the laptop, which doesn’t have a card reader or photoshop. Tomorra’ Tomorra’.

Oh, and I made a divine chicken casserole – gently fry and onion, lots of garlic, and one leek for around ten minutes, add four potatoes (large cubes), 1 sliced carrot, 1/4 of a swede (diced) (is there any difference between a swede and a turnip, really?), fry and mix together over medium heat for around five minutes. Pour in 500ml best quality organic vegetable stock cube (Kallo for me), 250mls of best quality vegetable bouillon (Swiss Marigold for me, at present), and bring to the boil. Add enough extra liquid so that the veg can simmer, aiming to reduce it over a half hour or so to the same level as the veg. Thicken with several teaspoons of dissolved cornflour and a tablespoon of vegetable gravy and finally add a can of drained and rinsed butter beans, just long enough to heat them. I served mine with fried Quorn chicken pieces scattered over the top. And a pile’o'toast. It was excellent. Simple and excellent.

That’s me for the night, take care all

Huge apologies for the silence, yee knew it was because of the visitors, but still, I feel I must explain a little.

On the night they arrived me and Sveta stayed up until nearly a quarter to five, talking about, everything, a lot to do with the post I put up on the secret blog. It was a good talk, needed, clarifying and calming. The next day I died and went to hell though, a week of awful sleep topped off by a night of only five hours sleep and I found the following day’s full shift until eight very, eh, long. That evening we had drinks by the fire (they wanted to share the bottle of Bushmills they bought, but we don’t do whiskey), and last night we had a beautiful meal (cooked by Andrey) and a swift round or two in the local again. I had to be up early for work and they had to rise early for their bus to Kerry where they spend the rest of the week (in a little cottage, with lots of opportunity for Sveta to paint en plain..eh, outdoors).

Benny played tour guide while I was in work each of the days, bringing them to a megalithic burial ground they were itching to see, to Strandhill to watch the waves (it’s been stormin’ for the past three days now), through the Ox mountains, our favourite little village Easkey, out to our secret little pier – where the waves were so high they couldn’t walk out to the end of it. Like us, they love water, and a bit of drama, so they were rather impressed. We will meet up at the end of the week in Dublin as well, where we’ll get to show them all our old haunts.

It has been a really excellent few days, I’m going to miss them so much when they’ve gone. It’s fascinating to find like-minded people who come from a culture you find so interesting and inspiring – and it’s the exact same feeling for them, let’s just say you can never be stuck for conversation in a situation like this. I have to learn Russian though. Really. I picked up soooo much while they were here, I don’t want to lose it.

Needless to say the we’ll be going over to see them as soon as we can

Anyway, back to today, and the getting on with it. I cannot wait for my couch, my tea, my roaring fire, my puddy-tats and my big fatty pizza dinner. Mmm. Relaximacation.

Oog. I wanted to start writing this about a half hour ago but a certain someone wouldn’t part with the laptop. Hey ho, I found a new vegetarian magazine in Asda (yes, we went back up again that soon), which kept me going all evening. The writing’s a bit shite, but there was some interesting ideas and facts and ads. A lot of ads. Hmm.

Saturday I had a little company in work, himself got to see what I do and was most excited and pleased. We had our drinkie poo’s on Saturday night and ate a bag of steaming chips fresh from the motorized van in the car park as we dawdled back to the house. There are few things in this life as tasty as a bag of chips (deeply salty and vinegary) on a starry cold night with the scent of sea and chimney smoke in the air and a few pints to put the goin’ on ye for them. Mmm.

Sunday I spent on the couch. Wasn’t hungover, just tired from thinking it would be a great idea to let the cats share our room. Millie pinned me to the bed on my back (I don’t find sleeping on my back particularly comfortable), they ran around and rumbled mid way through the night making me think someone was breaking in, Sasha wanted attention at seven. And so on. I had nightmares of ghosts and unpleasant things for the remainder of the night. One particularly interesting image in one of the dreams; I was sitting on a dirty carpeted stairs adjacent to a doctors surgery in an old dilapidated hospital (the room I was sitting next to was terrifying, full of blood stained instruments and yellowed walls and the very powerful sense that what was happening in there was not all good). My shoes, my red and black Merrell’s to be precise, were sitting on the steps in front of me and little flames kept irrupting on them, on the cushioning for the heel at the top of the back of them. Little small ball like flames, which didn’t burn them and weren’t really hot – I could put them out with my finger – well, they were hot, searingly, but they didn’t burn and I was aware I could control them. It was a very strange fucking dream anyway. And I know that old building and it’s various reincarnations from other paranormal style dreams. Those old window frames and the psychiatric ward feel of it, the candle light, the old floor coverings. Yeah, it would put the willies up you wouldn’t it? And believe me, that description, because I’m tired, is a lot more stereotypical sounding than the vivid image in the dream.

Anyway, today was spent shopping and prepping for the arrival of our friends on Wednesday. As such I’m rather tired and am bedward bound. Before I go though, if you have a can of Pinto beans in your press, drain and rinse them, put them in a small food processor (the kind of attachment that often comes with a handmixer) with two small cloves of garlic, a goodly squeeze of lemon juice, freshly ground black pepper and sea salt, a hefty teaspoon (dripping over) of tahini, a similarly hefty teaspoon of natural yoghurt and a glug of good olive oil. Blitz and serve on hot buttered toast – hummous with a twist that tastes and looks extremely similar to coarse pate. But nicer.

I got the wonderful news today that our friends from St. Petersberg, Sveta and Andre are coming to visit next week. It looked like the trip was cancelled, but things took a sudden change, thankfully.

My brain is fuddled tonight. I had two cans and read a lot of my rather difficult and thrilling book, and now all I can think of is uniting brainpan with pillow.

Goodnight all, where’ere you lie your own heads   (I’m thinking of a certain Welsh valley) (God I love the sound of that valley).

I’ve been delicately picking at the issue of ‘posters’ in work for the past few weeks. I’ve done bits and pieces, but for whatever reason, Sod’s law most likely, every time I went to really tackle it, (the bulk of the work would be all above and beside the area where the computers are, and I would have needed to spread them out across chairs etc. to see what should go where and so on), people just a kept on a comin’ in, every single time I stood up or had begun work on it.

The same thing kept happening today, so I ended up doing most of it on my ‘lunch’ break, the period I’m closed between five and six on a Thursday. The satisfaction of sitting back and admiring my work was well worth it. I was however left with a major issue in the shape of large pieces of wall that are now missing lumps of paintwork, the solution I came up with, well, when I finish it tomorrow I’ll post pictures. Right now I’m trying to write this while listening to a rerun of the presidential debate, and I can’t peal my eyes or ears off it….

night…

The leaves are becoming even more coloured on my drive into work. Today I was treated to golden autumn sunlight and a light shower complete with rainbow on my drive home.

I cleared out piles of clutter in work today and got ready loads of stuff for taking away. I get stuff collected every few days, it heads off back to the central library, to where exactly I amen’t sure. In the morning after the collection I’m greeted with a box full of new and shiny things, returns from other libraries that have borrowed from my stock, new books, letters, posters and so on. I’m child enough to enjoy going through the box like it’s a present all for me. It can be sometimes too, frequently when either looking through the box, or even through the pile of books somebody hands me back in, I find something I want to take home and savor myself.

I made sweetcorn chowder for dinner, well, me and Benny made it. He’s so fast peeling and chopping spuds, like a real life food processor. It turned out acceptable, maybe a six out of ten. I had to sub in red onion for white and hadn’t quite enough sweetcorn. I made the necessary adjustments, but could tell the deviation from the recipe was responsible for the ‘not quite rightness’ of it. Sometimes deviation improves on the original idea, but just not this time.

Listening to Muse today in the car on the way to work I was suddenly overwhelmed and my singing became choked in that bizarre way that tears affect the voice. I was thinking about the horror of soldiers being sent to war. Not a new thought. A combination of a feeling of change in my own life, the huge churning of thoughts brought about by what I’m reading, combined with the general feeling of outrage I feel when I think of the greed and stupidity that has brought the world to it’s current, new level of unpleasantness, and it all just wanted to flow. So it did.

It was the opening lyrics really, ‘Far away, this ship is taking me far away, Far away from the memories of the people who care if I live or die’