28 Days later…Day 66. Truths and consequences

28 Days later…Day 66.   Truths and consequences

A meander through the cobwebs in my head…

I’ve always been a bit of a consequence. That’s what they used to say when I was small. I don’t think it’s an expression used outside of Ireland and it has a range of meanings, but for the most part it is used affectionately when you are a bit of a cheeky fecker. Maybe I was that, but as far as I knew, I was always just me.

I never really knew who I was, until I did. By then, it was too late to do much about it. The nature vs nurture argument will probably always be just that, an argument. No one can prove it without someone else disagreeing and presenting their evidence to the contrary. But I won’t get into that. I’m too much of a consequence to be getting that serious today… and you know what that means, I’m about to contradict myself… I’m such a consequence.

As it turns out, underneath my rough exterior, (fab but rough) there is a rather soft heart which carries its own consequences. If you’re familiar with my blog, you will well know there is a little cloud that long ago, decided to rest above my heart. In my head I visualise it like a raincloud atop a mountain, just sitting there, dampening everything it touches.

Of course, I discovered that a little sprinkle of sunshine tends to heat the air and rise the cloud to let the light in, so I have always tried to shine. You can’t be waiting for someone else to fix things now can you? That’s a crude analogy but it’s probably true. When I was a sad little boy, I tried to make people laugh. That was me, trying to shine the cloud away. I remember I’d do impressions of James Mason and Peter Laurie for my aunties and they’d all laugh. In truth, my impressions were probably not all that good, but they laughed anyway. I didn’t know I was trying to fix my own sadness, but I was.

These days, I have hardened myself to who and what I am. I still try to sprinkle some light and I see the thing that wants me, coming long before it arrives. That helps. Most people never see any of it and no one sees all of it. But I am fortunate. I can take care of myself, mostly anyway. I’ve been lucky in life, I have people who love me and what else do you need. They are my brightest sprinkles of sunlight.

I did my back in recently, just at the beginning of lockdown. Then I got sick from all the drugs I was taking on top of all the drugs I already take for my heart. I’ve had weeks of pain, some of it so bad, I couldn’t sit, stand or lie down without a struggle. On top of everything, I am working from home, something I refused to stop doing through my sickness. It is only in the last few days that I have started to feel better. I’m a martyr… “God love me” as my mother would say. It isn’t only Jihadists that can be Martyrs you know. People forget that.  A fella like me, working away, crippled I was, in the middle of a pandemic, the sun shining, and me stuck indoors, not a decent drop of Sangiovese to be had in the shops and they only had the cheap tonic to go in my gin…a martyr I tell you!

So, what do I do? The minute I can move again, I get out the power hose, and clean the gutters and the paths all the way round our house.  My old back is struggling again, but now it’s a more familiar back pain that I have grown used to, so it’s not as bad. Still, I’m an asshole for not resting. That was Monday. Yesterday morning I took a short break from work at my desk to stretch my legs, and I ended up cutting back some plants that have been wrecking my head for weeks. Now I say a few, but there was a hedge cutter, a shears, a couple of clippers, a hoe and an extendible lopper that I call my Zombie slayer 2000 involved.  (Let them come, my shed is an anti-zombie arsenal.) I had to stop because I realised, I was overdoing it.

That’s my new cloud.  Having to stop. When I power-washed the gutters and then the paths on one side of the house, I was done for, knackered, kaput. So, I started fooling myself. I would target a line in the distance and convince myself that I’d stop when I got to it. Every time I’d go a little beyond and then tell myself, sure, I’ll just do the next bit. By the end of the day I had done the lot, including my car which had been splashed with dirt from the path.  It was a bank holiday, a day off for me and I spent it in the sun, wearing a rain coat to keep dry, power-washing anything that wasn’t tied down.  Did I mention I was a martyr?

Sometimes I wonder what’s wrong with me. There were multiple times when I had to stop. I was in so much pain, but I knew if I stopped, I’d be defeated, my little heart-cloud might darken, and the rain would begin to fall. So, I pushed on through like I was a twenty-year-old, pretending to be fine. But of course, I wasn’t. I’m still feeling it today, I can tell you. But that didn’t stop me taking a break from work yesterday to…work in the garden… I need help and by help I don’t mean the physical kind, (although actually I do) I mean a psychiatrist!

I went back to my desk, finished off some work, did a little research, then took a break (to walk the dogs) I have no one to blame but myself. By five pm I was shagged, so instead of resting, I started doing this. I should be sipping on a nice glass of red but no I’m a gobsheen.

I only have Joanna and her mother to be consequential to now, since we’ve been under the spell of the lockdown, so I think that’s taking its toll on me as well. I mean I can’t annoy the woman I love or her mother now can I…well…

I’ve managed a few trips to the local shop, but that only gets me into arguments. There are some idiots around let me tell you, and I’ve taken to not letting anyone put me in danger, so they get told very quickly to step the feck off when it comes to my personal space.  God I’m turning into a narky auld hoor. (If you’re not Irish, it has the same meaning as it sounds like it should, but spelled differently)

See, like I told you I can be a bit of a consequence. Speaking of consequences and on an altogether different topic, I read the newspapers this morning and the headlines brought me back to another time. Not in a nostalgic…ah the good old days… kind of way, more the …Holy Fup!  Not again… kind of way.

A South American president capturing a former U.S. special forces soldier as part of an attempted coup, three Russian doctors mysteriously ‘falling’ out of hospital windows after they spoke out about problems in the medical system during the pandemic, shots exchanged between North and South Korean soldiers, oh dear!

I lived through a chunk of the first cold war and I remember as a child actually expecting a big red button to be pushed at some point. Back then Europe was divided quite physically and there were massive troop and tank numbers either side of the divide. The whole world seemed to have a side. It was quite scary. The world was a very dangerous place and most of us never know the extent of how close we came on many occasions to the launch of nuclear missiles.

The more people like Putin, Trump, Xi Jinping and Kim Jong-un get their knickers in a twist, the closer we edge to the bad old days.  There is nothing like picking a fight, when you want to distract from trouble in your homeland.  The language of war is already in the air. First, Donald Trump tried to pin the blame for his woes on China.  Now he has started to use the term ‘under attack’ when speaking about Covid-19.  That’s no coincidence.  Today I read he is comparing it to Pearl harbour and 9-11.  It doesn’t seem to be sticking. Maybe Iran might be a target next or maybe things could get worse. War might be his only saviour if the polls don’t fall his way.

Vladimir Putin is no less focussed on maintaining his own power at pretty much any cost. I could go on, those two gobshites are not alone in their behaviour. The combination of political leaders with such a very narrow focus, the human and subsequent economic tragedy that is unfolding before our very eyes every day, may yet prove to be just the beginning of something stupid.  Why did I ever mention consequences?… Where was I? What the hell was I talking about?… I tell you I was a consequence when I was a nipper, but if the old-timers starts kicking in, I’ll be a consequence on a mission.. Look after each other folks and above all…Stay safe…

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17 thoughts on “28 Days later…Day 66. Truths and consequences

  1. “I did my back in recently, just at the beginning of lockdown. Then I got sick from all the drugs I was taking on top of all the drugs I already take for my heart. I’ve had weeks of pain, some of it so bad, I couldn’t sit, stand or lie down without a struggle.”
    I read these words with disbelief – they are the story of my locldown too, even down to the heart pills ( plus thyroid – and now have a new raft of pills to heal the damage the first have done… only able to consume soup for the last three weeks, and for the for-see-able future- que ser sera ( what would we do without Doris Day)
    Great piece,including your roam around the world’s hotspots, yes, I’ve been noticing this other uniquely Russian disease of falling out of windows… dissident journalists and Russian politicians are also prone to it…
    Thank you for landing on my blog, greatly honoured.

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    1. My pleasure and thanks for visiting me.. I think we will all share many experiences by the time this is all over.. stay safe… good to hear from you ☘️🎈

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  2. Oh, how bloody stupid do we get even in light of experience … yes, a rhetorical question. I pulled a muscle in my back in February and had to stop my beloved early morning cycle for a couple of weeks, but I still did things that were gonna hurt. Then I hurt my feckin’ knee … same punishment … no cycling. The same knee is on the blink again but enough, just to let you see I know where you’re coming from. 😀
    “I’ll give them a piece of my mind,” is a phrase that came to me as I read the latter part of this great post. Of course, in this case, it was your voice I imagined using the phrase and ‘a piece of your mind’ is always so entertaining. Not only do I remember the Cold War era, but I was also an integral part of the damn thing. This isn’t the place for war stories but of one battle, yes … give yourself a feckin’ break, Patrick.:)
    A great read as always. Take care of you and yours.

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    1. Thanks Tom.. thought you might share some of my experiences/ memories and as for dodgy body parts .. well it’s inevitable with the passage of time .. ☘️🎈

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  3. If you run out of things to hurt yourself doing there….
    Seriously, take care. You want to be in one piece when we are all finally allowed to return to what will then be considered “normal” activities.

    Liked by 1 person

  4. Another great post. I laughed so much at your gardening adventures.I get down on my hands and knees to weed and find that when I finally get up (three hours later) it’s like watching the ascent of man as I slowly move to upright walking by the time I reach the back door. I don’t know why I’m not more sensible but it might be in the blood. Years ago my father had eighteen inches of gut removed and was told by both Mum and the doctors that he would have to go easy on the gardening from then on. Two days out of hospital, he chopped down a tree overhanging the drive and grubbed out the stump. That showed them!

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