Last night I attended a Christmas Dinner run by a Social Meetup in Belfast at Crumlin Road Gaol – a former Prison turned tourist attraction run by two guys I know from my home village. They’re even married to two sisters from a nearby town; I know their mother-in-law.
I was glad to have attended the dinner especially as I was talking to a woman I sat beside on the bus over to Belfast who I found out, from speaking to her, is a relative of mine. And also, at the dinner, a woman sitting beside me was from a village in my neck of the woods; Bellaghy, the location of the Seamus Heaney Homeplace. (he was actually from Newbridge/Castledawson, to be pedantic) She became interested in me as I used the Mid Ulster idioms she never heard since she moved to Newtonabbey.
In the end, I had to leave early as the demon energy drink took over.
But, as you can see, I’m king of my castle.
Also, I have an Adobe Spark journal of creative ideas throughout this month;
Gran is now at home and we have arranged an agreement which works out both better and cheaper than taking her to a care home. 🙂 I have to hold fort from 6 pm to 10 pm every evening, except Wednesday, including weekends. A few evenings I’ve been stressed out, but now I run my domestic errands during the afternoon to prevent burn out.
My voluntary job is going well, they’re mighty impressed at my work rate and how quickly I’ve been up to speed. Today I applied for a local Admin/Receptionist role, but feel that the issue around our Housing Benefit agreement at my place has caught me between a rock and a hard place. The Government here are pure catchpennies.
I try to make my presence known to the world and feel I’ve learned so much from it. More often than not, whenever I go for a walk I pick up the litter on the pavements and put them in my own bin bag. It’s an example of vigilante action reducing dependency on the state. I feel that the slothful are cannon fodder. They may complain about the state banning smoking in public buildings or public drinking of alcohol, but when the chips are down they expect someone else to sort out their rubbish; usually the state.
Back to School tomorrow for a lot of kids. My cousin’s eldest son’s first day in Primary School is tomorrow. Lord only knows what he’s letting himself into. Most kids here are raised in bars and learn all the smut of the day; even a song on 4Music today at 2 pm at the Kurdish Barber I attended today was called ‘Sex’ and had a Sex Ed Teacher enticing teenage boys; if it had been a man my age enticing teenage girls there would be a public outcry.