The Bells Have Made Me Deaf

Much as I’m not impressed by anything that David Gilmour is producing lately, I have to admit that he’d be worth going to see just to hear Crosby and Nash do their thing. As promised T rang to let me have an earfull of ambience from the Royal Albert Hall. The connection enhanced the sound to the grand heights of something mystical. Not quite able to hear it properly and with much ear straining I tried to make out which tune in particular it was… and just as I was getting it… deadness. Cut off mid riff. I think he enjoys the tease of letting me hear snippets barely long enough to whet the appetite. Regardless of the hissy connection and the acoustic drawbacks of a phone speaker it sounded not at all bad. Having said that, he was playing Pink Floyd tunes at the time and not his own inane drivel. Well… there is one good track that he played on Later with Jools Holland…. a real string bender but I dunno what it’s called or is it obvious? Heard a snippet of that one too. Nice one T! I’m sure that given the right circumstances his stuff would grow on me but those circumstances are unlikely to come about unless somebody else instigates them. I intend to maintain my position of stubborn stupidity and refuse to pursue it to the point of purchase. Invite me to tea and play it incessantly… feel free. Make me eat my words if you dare. Gauntlet thrown.

I shall get back to my singing along with Imogen Heap…

… 90 minutes later
After hearing Shine On You Crazy Diamond, Arnold Layne and Echoes while lying in a hot bath, I’m wishing I’d been there if only to hear Echoes. So did Richard Wright join him to sing Arnold Layne?

Oh no! Wish You Were Here played down the phone to me. It’s more than I can bear!!

and Comfy Numb…

I fear the end is nigh.

The only place I could find that supplied compost was the local builders yard and nowhere seemed to have large pots so I ended up getting a builders gorilla bucket in a horrible yellow, that being the only choice there was or go to Newtownards. I’m sure there has to be some other more local place that supplies such things although I have no idea where and neither did anyone I asked. I made do with one large flowerpot, a gorilla bucket and a storage container I had left over from moving house.

The roots were more badly damaged than I had realised yesterday. I’ll be very much surprised if they survive this time around, if at all but here’s hoping my fingers are greener than they look. Arum Lily is such a lovely plant.

Some plants are hard to kill I know but when I admired the huge Arum Lily at my little cousins new front door, I didn’t expect them to dig it up and send it home with me. Being non gardening types I think they were happy to uproot. I don’t understand this at all. It looked beautiful where it was but they feared it might stimulate hay fever… huh? I didn’t argue, although I would have been happier if it hadn’t been hacked out of the ground quite so enthusiastically. Now I have a bin bag full of ready split stems on somewhat butchered roots which I hope will not die if I pot them up individually. Too late home tonight to do anything about it so I hope it can make do with the bin liner till tomorrow when I get a chance to go lilypot hunting. I had no plans to start a container garden here but it looks like it’s on it’s way…

From the workdesk of Oink Oink on a slow day:

Being so far from home I sometimes think you Irish people take things for granted that seem very interesting to me… I get a copy of the Sunday Life given to me every so often and this week three articles caught my attention (and imagination).

1. The DUP is setting up an initiative to protect the Saint Patrick’s centre in Downpatrick from protestant vandals. Thousands of pounds worth of damage has been done to the centre in attacks over three successive weekends. Now DUP councillor William Walker wants to call a public meeting and invite local Unionist teenagers to attend in order to put a stop to the mindless vandalism.

2. Forget Google, Belfast has its own internet search engine called ‘GASTA‘ and also included from next month will be an English/Irish translation service.

3. and almost finally, down in the village of Strangford, Caroline has been keeping very quiet about her local, The CUAN. It’s relaxed and mellow, traditional bands can lift the mood on certain days, and the food is said to be great with extra large portions.. and a pint of Guinness is only £2.40 … what more could you ask for….

4. Have fun with the Vikings at the fifth annual Magnus Barelegs Viking Festival in Downpatrick, Delamont Country Park and Killyleagh. Organised by Down District Council, this unique festival will once again celebrate the life and reign of the infamous Viking king and warrior, Magnus Barelegs.

Firstly, let me remind you that I no longer live in the hole that’s known as Downpatrick, nor have I for almost a year now. The Saint Patrick centre was just around the corner from where my last house was in English Street and was indeed plagued by thugs and vandals as was most of the town. I have no idea what their religious or political allegience was, just that they should have been rounded up and shipped out to Tasmania or the modern day equivalent. Perhaps they should make those islands that are now sinking due to global warming the latest penal colony. While living in Downpatrick I was no stranger to their vandalism, having had my car vandalised, then stolen and burnt out and a window in the house smashed just because the smasher was ‘bored’. English street is where Down cathedral is (and supposedly the grave of Saint Patrick) the old gaol and the courthouse for those unfamiliar with the area. It’s buildings are mostly historic dating back a few centuries.

Never been to the Viking Festival even though I lived in that area for 5 years. From the annual photos in the Down Recorder, it looks like a fancy dress with the added excuse for big men to shout a lot and flash their swords! Delamont is a nice place to spend an afternoon normally.

The Cuan was my local when I lived in the sleepy hamlet of Ballyculter which is next door to Castleward but I left there two years ago. Your database needs updated Porky I’m on the Ards Peninsula now! Hello?

I hope GASTA is going to include Ulster Scots or else there’ll be a kick up from the unrepresented.

I woke up this morning with an attitude problem that wont leave. Not only am I sore all over after so many days doing things I’m not used to and finding I have muscles where I didn’t know that muscles existed but I feel terribly intolerant and uncaring. “What’s new?” you may ask, well …. the muscle ache is new.

Working all day and painting in the evening should be in some way satisfying and it is to the extent that I have beer in the fridge and food in the larder and nice new walls that still need a second coat of indulgence or whatever it’s called. With a name like that it must be aimed at females. It’s a wonder they didn’t give a free bar of chocolate with every cut price can, one of those huge slabs like a doorstep that no normal person could possibly consume in one sitting without being ill. Yeah chocolate really isn’t my thing but sometimes I eat it when bored or if it’s free with the latest wallcovering.

I discovered why the paint was so cheap btw. Must have been old paint. I had to spend an age stirring it to get the colours to mix to one single shade of Armagnac (I didn’t know Armagnac was that colour but then again my tongue has no eyes.) instead of a floating mixture of goldy beige and purple which is what it separated to. Tonight I shall be once again painting the same walls for the second time and hopefully that’ll be an end to it. Well, an end to this end of the room. There’s still the other end to de-yellow. I was beginning to hate that tone of tired happiness gone slightly grubby. Now things are…. well… maybe I’ll post a pic when it’s all done. You can see for yourselves the colour of passion and consider the effort that’s gone into slapping the stuff on crumbling walls without leaving too many drips on the carpet and all without the aid of a safety net.

In other news… I’ve almost caught up with the washing inspired entirely by this track, Bitter Sweet - Dirty Laundry that I’m sadly hooked on until somebody sends me a new one to wear out. And make it snappy… before I implode.

Oh aye…. remember this little mite? It’s now a mammy and it’s still only a kitten itself!

I went to Bangor after work today to collect the new washing machine and dryer. Had to wait until then so I could have help to unload it when I got home. Got to the shop to find they close early Monday and Tuesday. Missed them by 10 minutes. I doubt very much if they would have wanted to stay open to accommodate the loading of stuff into a van even if I’d arrived 5 minutes before closing time… well not unless their sales commission is better than average. I’ve never come across the bend over backwards attitude in any of those electrical chain stores as of yet.

So while I was that length, I had a wander around the shop next door and bought some paint in the sale. Not so sure that pink and purple will be easy to live with but at least it’ll cover the patchy walls with something new and fresh and not have cost a fortune if I decide I dont like it in a couple of months. May be too dark for the size of room. I’ll know better in daylight. Did one wall tonight as a tester.

Tomorrow is another day and so is the one after that.

My Dad handed me this bundle of green scrunched up into an M&S carrier bag and a roll of fabric. “Can you do something with that… it’s for a chair”. Well yes I can do something with it but I’d rather have had the chair to work with as opposed to an ancient out of shape and probably shrunk with cleaning old loose cover sticky with jam and other such delights. They can’t do without the chair for some reason. It must be a one chair house. I dont understand people who send stuff to be repaired, remade etc. while it’s that dirty it’s fit to stand up and walk all on it’s own. Do they feel no shame?

I planned to do it today for the forecast said rain and sure enough it’s dull and spitting. Yet here I sit staring at the jammy bundle of rags in the bag with no notion of getting on with it. My brain is rearranging the living room for summer and painting walls. No thoughts of opening the roll and starting to measure. I’ll have to get on with it like it or not. To be collected/delivered tomorrowish with thanks.

Maybe I’ll just nip to the shop first…

… 4 hours later

I have managed to extract old cover from bag and spread it out on bench. I have also managed to buy a new washing machine, new dryer, and arrange to have my kitchen gutted so they’ll fit in there. The thought of having those old poxy cupboards smashed to smithereens and have to pay for replacements was enough to motivate me to work.

Well… just as soon as I drink this coffee…