Archive for February 27th, 2008

Some things make your soul feel clean

I have run slightly short of kindly, positive encouraging blogs of late. Some may say there never were any. I think the genre has suffered from a general fear of offense.

In NZ it was easy to blog about stuff cause it was all very distant from the guys reading it, and it was more like reading a proper blog where you’re nicely, comfortably distanced from the context.

But here it’s all a little close to home, often literally. The joy of voyeurism (and I suppose that’s mostly it, though perhaps you could call it curiosity…) in reading blogs of other people’s lives is that you develop images and perceptions of who the writer may actually be. As if the collected online works of an individual would give you a good idea of who the person is. This is true to a very limited extent but it’s also true that often people’s online personas can be wildly different. For example, to view merely my blogs my give the impression of a sensitive, thinking type chap, when in actually fact in real life I’m a bit of a selfish, insensitive git.

Some of you actually know the selfish, insensitive git and perhaps find the two images difficult to reconcile. Hence the unease in blogging about a lot of stuff. Many of you may know the actual situations and people involved and hold, at the very least, different perspectives.

Anyhow I figure I should just get past that and blog away. I lay sole responsibility for that at the feet of my peppermint tea supplying friend who so delightfully entertained me this evening.

On peppermint tea. Although often categorized as a “gay tea” (whatever that may mean, I believe peppermint tea has been largely overlooked in the beverage department. Indeed it has stood me well in previous years when I’ve kicked the coffee habit for lent. Before the days when the cold turkey scared me out of it…tea.jpg

I have a general ban on coffee after 6 pm as I lie awake at night staring at the ceiling, grinding my teeth, and listening to the shipping forecast on Radio 4.

And with tea in hand we had a great wee chat, the conversation of good mates catching up on what’s been happening in our lives since we last met. The kindly, generous, encouraging type of conversation when you’re genuinely glad to see the person. Familiarity breeds contempt. I get fed up with the same people’s company (mostly my own) as much as the next person.

I picture Heaven as somewhat like this, long evenings, rotating back on forth from twilight to darkness in an unending cycle, like the restaurant at the end of the universe. Evenins spent at long lost mates houses catching up on the bad old days and laughing ourselves silly over all the petty little things that we used to get bent out of shape about.

Now don’t get me wrong, I’m sure there’ll be lots of weekends in Donegal and trips up the hills and Josh Ritter gigs too, but the coffee definitely has a part to play.


But we’re not there yet, we still have to get through all the “piss and *&%$ and lies that kill people” (Magnolia to the rescue…), and “all the lonely people where do they all come from“, all the sorrow and heartbreak that makes up so much of human existence. But we’ll get there, no doubt, with little glimpses of glory along the way.


Come on pilgrim

So… thinking about a wee snack before bed. Wander downstairs to find Ma and Da toasting hunks of bread over an open fire, apparently a regular thing these days. I should leave my room more often, dear knows what those two get up too. Not that I’ll complain, Da has managed to put on a stone in weight, which is pretty damn impressive, considering he hasn’t got a pancreas. In fact he’s only 3kg behind me in weight, next thing we’ll have him on a diet. To think what was happening 6 months ago… Another story entirely…

Anyhoo. To compliment my freshly toasted… toast (I’m hoping for a pig on a spit with an apple in it’s mouth tomorrow night) I pop into the fridge for a bit of cheese, to find we appear to have swapped from good old fashioned Tesco mature cheddar to “Pilgrim’s Choice”.

I picture some guy on the Mayflower unwrapping a vacuum packed bit of “Pilgrim’s Choice” to go with his freshly caught seagull before the scurvy kicks in. I tried but just couldn’t picture Bunyan’s Christian with anything vacuum packed.

Well, seeing as 9 out of 10 pilgrims prefer it I’ll not say no.


February 2008
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