Jaysus

I have a stalker/follower.

*waves*

January make me shiver.............

I've got past the end of Christmas and moved on. It's been freezing in Ireland for what seems a long time. I'm not sure what this year will hold.

Pimp my Donkey

Ireland in the early 1970’s. The country hadn’t an arse to its trousers, mass emigration, twenty-five percent interest rates and a national debt that Albania would be proud of. As children we had nothing more than galloping consumption and the auld Christmas to look forward to. The things that brightened our bleak and austere life (think Dickensian but without the smog) were simple things

Christmas decorations that you made in school from crepe paper, your mother put them up, and kept them for next year. Lights on the tree that didn’t flash and had a least a one in three chance of setting your house on fire. No outside lights at all. A crib with the holy family. Inevitably one of the donkeys had lost its head. Two channels on the television.

I now spend a whole Saturday putting up outside lights on my house. It’s like some sort of mad nuclear arms race with my neighbour. He gets a giant waving Santa, my children make me get one as well. You should see some of the decorations we have for the tree! The lights would not look out of place at a Jean Michael Jarre concert. The small one was a bit put out that the crib hadn’t a toilet, microwave or Sky+ box, and because she’s part of the MTV generation, she couldn’t believe that Mary and Joseph had only a donkey, and that it wasn’t pimped.

Pimp my donkey indeed.

November rain.

Friday morning. It's raining. Jesus this country can be miserable. First and probably last blog post