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The voice of his conscience

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Let there be light


Just a little bit more…

Fancy that? Sun rays! Has we walked back from the Mistake Factory, after a long day’s work.
Sunlight?! I’d better keep this quiet. There wasn’t enough for the whole country today. Better not rub it in for the westerners…

Sunshine, hey?
We grabbed those last few beams of light.
Before we plunge into the Long Dark Night.

With the very very short days. And a bit of pale grayness suffocating between the slabs of damp darkness. And us acting the raisins in the porridge.

Except that Carlos is off to Brazil soon. The poor thing. He is worried that it may be too hot. He’s no longer used to the weather back home. Which is no longer home.

He was talking about the exit row seats that he bought when I sneakily took this shot. Well, he didn’t buy the seats per se. They’d look weird in the one bedroom apartment that he hasn’t bought yet. He bought their use for 8 hours each way. Paris to Rio. Wasn’t it an Air France A330 that vanished between Rio and Paris? No, I think it was between Sao Paulo and Paris. Poor people. And pilots, who no longer with an instinctive sense of flight. Just an instinctive sense of monitoring computer screens. “You’re going down, pull up, pull up!” When all the time they were going up up up, losing speed, and stalling the plane. Because the computer said they were going down… Poor people. I’d better remember to tell Carlos at work tomorrow.
And he pops in a sleeping pill, in his exit row seat, or so he told me, as I was taking this shot.
But surely it’s not allowed says I, clicking away, trying to deal with the tricky light. You have to be able bodied and willing to help. And you are sixty, and selfish, and drugged on sleeping tablets, to conquer your fear of flying.

I really must remember to tell him the story of Air France flight 447.


… il faut cultiver notre jardin.


Started the day in a really bad mood.
A great, cathartic, ferocious mood.
I kicked arse, I wrote cutting emails, I laid down the law. I swore more than usual.
And I felt great. Alive.

How hypocritical of me then to lecture Luca this evening about his intolerable, and not tolerated, use of swear words.
With exaggeratedly raised voice and prompt switching off of the Xbox.

But I didn’t swear then.
What a poor role model I would be.

I have standards, for fuck sake.

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Et maintenant…

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Keep calm and smile


Our two Austrian students are leaving early tomorrow morning.

I think they were quite impressed by our not asking about kangaroos and crocodiles back home.

They were quiet. Very quiet.
And polite. Very polite.
They kept calm, and smiled. And said “no thank you”.
A lot.

They must have been totally horrified at the amount of noise around the dinner table. And the eating with hands. And the talking while chewing. And the interrupting. And the chewing while interrupting.
They kept calm, and smiled.

They were very nice. We must have scared them. We must have.

Miriam very politely asked Mrs mememe2U for the recipe for the fish pie we had for dinner yesterday.
The dinner that I cooked.
How I gloated.

They are heading back tomorrow to a land of calm. And order. And speaking in turn. Not while eating. And polite kangaroos. And disciplined crocodiles.



Coillte may appear to be a tad heavy-handed, but in this dog-eat-dog world, it’s come to the point where one has no choice but to fight fire(arms) with fire(arms).

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I couldn’t bring myself to wake them up after everybody else had vacated the rec area. They looked so cute.

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Townhall meeting



Vivian and Michael and I got a bit carried away last night.

I sort of knew that that twenty-fourth pint was perhaps not a great idea.






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