shiny blogging nonsense

Since I last posted my life has pretty much returned to normal.  The first week was a blur. Wake on Monday, removal Tuesday, funeral Wednesday and back to work on Thursday. On the Friday I was back on the road again for a confirmation, a welcome break, a chance to escape reality for few more days. Last week was just a normal week, work, home, eating, sleeping. Of course it's not normal down in my Granny's. I'm not sure if it ever will be. A man lives in a house for 90 years, it'll surely take another 90 to be normal without him. This evening I had fish fingers and waffles for dinner and some strawberries afterwards. The Irish strawberries have hit the shops, another sign of summer!  I'm off from Thursday for a week. My plans include cleaning, tidying, throwing out stuff and getting things sorted. There's also talk of a picnic, a trip to the zoo, Tuesday evening drinks and maybe a trip on the DART on a weekday afternoon. Can't wait to turn off the alarm

Last Sunday my Granddad got up and went to 9 o'clock Mass in his local church. Last Sunday I got up and brought my mother to brunch at 11.30am in Odessa. Later my Granddad had a roast goose dinner, followed by trifle and cream. I had smoked salmon eggs benedict, freshly squeezed orange juice and coffee. After dinner, my Granddad (aged 90 and almost a half) went fishing. After brunch, I (aged 31 and almost three-quarters) went shopping. After fishing, my Granddad walked from the river, through the fields, to the bridge to wait for his lift. After shopping, I went to lie on the couch in my boyfriend's house, tired from a night out and early start. Last Sunday, my Granddad sat on the bridge, hands on the stone either side and bowed his head. Last Sunday, as I started to open an ice-cream and sit on a bench, I got a call from my mother, sobbing. Never sick, we never expected him to go. His first admittance to hospital was for his post mortem. He went they way he should, a

Yesterday evening I met a friend after work and we wandered around the shops for a while, overspending, before going for dinner.  A four course Spring special, that was actually five, pulled us into its clutches and we started to munch and slurp and chat our way through.  "What is that?", she said proffering a piece of tofu, pulled out of her miso soup, "tastes like what I would imagine gelatine and wallpaper paste would taste of". "pretty sure that's what tofu is made of", I replied. Through sichuan gyoza, sweet chilli chicken and spicy cod tempura, washed down with two diet cokes each, onto baileys cheesecake, banoffee and coffee.  Chatting about our purchases, me worrying about the dress I had just spent far too much on spontaneously combusting and in my panic saying contaneously instead and taking some convincing that it isn't a word. Chatting about her holidays, flight times, accommodation , restaurants, wine and whether spray on or rub i