I think I’m more ready to write blogs at 3am, when my eyes are dry and sore, and the silence in the house is deafening. I’m working tomorrow night shift (or is it tonight) so I’m doing my usual of staying up really late the night before in preparation for it. This normally means a lot of caffeine, a varied selection of salted snacks and a DVD or five. I just watched The Matrix. Still a good film, though downhill after the first one. Must go and listen to more Rage against the machine too.
This week has been an odd one. With lots of memories of Dad being sick (though he’s now well) all being dragged up (for one reason or another) and remembering how tough that all was and how gracious GOD has been. Things happen in your life and you’re forever changed, often without you realising what happened at the time.
Parents have also went to Coleraine for a few days so I’ve had the house to myself, and have taken to lighting the fire late at night and lying barely inches from it till the wee small hours of the morning till I fall asleep and wake up like CS Lewis at the end of the Great Divorce.
Also back out in the canoes in preparation for a repeat of the Portadown to Coleraine trip of last year This time I’ve invited almost everyone I’ve spoke to, indeed consider this blog a general invite. As most people respond with “I don’t have a canoe” then I respond with a Paisley-esque “canoes will be provided…”
Our next potential candidate was the youthful yet eminent Dr Carson, who accepted a quick paddle to Knock Bridge though I did have to talk him out of the full protective swimming gear. Our top moment was coming across a gigantic (cue image of man with hands widespread saying “this big…”) pike lying sunning itself on the surface, which swam away just before Gilly could flick into the boat with the paddle.
But to finish…
“Now I’m hunched over a typewriter
I guess you call that painting in a cave
And there’s a word I can’t remember
And a feeling I cannot escape
And now my ashtray’s overflowing
I’m still staring at a clean white page
Oh and morning’s at my window
She is sending me to bed again”
Nelly And I 
you probably didn’t realise i read your blogs every so often, well now you do. i don’t read books like i used to, if it was new years eve right now i would probably make an empty promise to try and change that. but instead of books i read your blog so thanks, you write really well. hope to see you at a gig or in a coffee shop soon.
I’ll pray that the house hunting comes to an end soon.
tim
ta.