Very refreshing it was.
It’s good to peel oneself away from the LCD screen from time to time.
Very refreshing indeed.
Saved another $37.50 on Evian in a bottle
What a great little island we live on.
Breakfast of champions for Mimi, who’s made a decent dent in her stash of M&Ms before Mrs mememe2U and I came downstairs at 9 am.
She won it at her friend Saidhbhe’s birthday party.
Her guess of 109 M&Ms was the closest to the actual 117 total contained in the jar.
No better contestant than a sugary-shite addict to win the jackpot.
The problem is that she is just as accurate when it comes to identifying missing M&Ms from her loot.
She knows just how many Finn and I manage to knick during the only 30 second window of opportunity when she wasn’t jealously keeping an eye on the jar.
Let me tell you, you don’t want to mess with a junkie…
Some bollix has found the factory reset button on the weather machine…
That’s it. We are now officially in a heat wave situation.
Three days in a row.
A pint of stale Guinness with a chewed straw in it at 8.30am outside the Citizens Advice Bureau (if that’s the sort of advice they dispense, I wish I had known earlier… I shall be queuing there as soon as manage to extract myself for the Mistake Factory…) – this has to be the surest sign that we have been hit by a heat wave.
That and the smell of grilled meat emanating from prams.
and indecent amounts of flesh were exposed. Comfortably.
Another scorcher of a day (almost reached the mid twenties, I kid you not!)
A day for basking in the sun.
For those not locked up in the Mistake Factory…
Still, Pepe kindly agreed to do a babysit at short notice and Mrs mememe2U and I went for a quick paddle around the harbour at dusk.
All rather lovely.
Once Mrs mememe2U stopped sulking.
A day when t-shirts were paraded.
A day when the GoosePimpleOMeter* recorded no positive hits on the pier! (Except perhaps for the Italian guy and the three Spanish girls who briefly unzipped their North Pole anoraks to reach for their wallet – but it doesn’t count).
A day when the thermometer hit a dizzying 23 degrees (Celsius!)
In the shade!!! (Met Eireann usually go by the temperature in the sunlight, under a looking glass, to con us into thinking that we live in a country with a near-Mediterranean climate, and no windchill)
Somehow I doubt that it will be enough to convince Mrs Raheny to pack away the winter duvet.
It’s going to be a sweat-fest for me tonight.
And it won’t be from the passion…
* patent pending
That was the caption for the start of my day, shitty, mildly irritating but funny at the same time.
And then I heard about the Manchester terrorist attack.
One would think that there cannot be any gradation in horror. But there is.
The very choice of the target is sickeningly evil. A concert attended by excited pre-teens. For some of them their first concert ever.
For some of them their last concert ever.
With no possibility of bringing the perpetrator to justice. But how do you bring justice to the maimed, to the broken relatives of the dead, to the stunned community?
This sad, deluded, sick person is dead. Vapourised into nothingness. It was an undeservedly quick death for the bastard. He is nothing now and we shall not mention him anymore, because that would keep him alive for the little bit longer that he should not be granted.
What he believed in is also nothing. A mirage. An illusion. A cancer.
What is very real is the hurt and distress and inability to comprehend for those who are left behind.
What is very real is the 22 gaping holes in the universes of hundreds of people for whom 23 May 2017 will not gradually becomes a distant, less painful memory.
What is very real is a new, less colourful, more traumatic life for the scores of injured kids, teens and adults for whom 23 May will remain the essence of evil.
My thoughts are very much with them right now.
My car door handle is crying today.