It’s almost midnight and I’m listening to Tears in Heaven by Mr Slowhand Eric Clapton. Should be asleep and resting. Or dancing in Saturday night fever. To say that life is upside down and slightly disorienting is no news. Though every so often I think it’s going beyond my threshold. Just before it does, there is a twist that avoids the fall.
Tomorrow some friends of Pádraig and myself will meet up to see if we can come up with a few ideas about he first of the two US Fund- and Awareness Raising cycles, the one on the Cape. There are a few friends around Boston and the Cape who have already expressed an interest to help out, raising the profile of the cycle. And there are a few people who said they might come along. – Last time Pat and I were on the Cape, the Chief of Police and the Town Administrator both said they were enthusiastic cyclists, maybe they will join the cycle too? I would like to put a marker on the spot of the accident to highlight how dangerous this stretch of the road is for cyclists.
This is the first weekend we have carers in the house. They give the days structure, and I’m not sure how much structure I want during the weekend. Pádraig is getting back to ‘normal’, eating really well and even drinking. I think I mentioned our milkman is back delivering milk and cream to our house, as he has been doing since the kids were born. I think Pat once mentioned that his father delivered the milk with a horse and cart. Anyways – today I made myself a big mug of banana milk. For some ‘stupid’ reason I thought, let’s see if Pádraig likes this. Less than five minutes later he had finished the whole huge mug of my (!) banana milk. I thought that if he keeps going like this he soon won’t need the PEG anymore.
In Ireland: Legal Alien
You know the 1987 song about the Englishman in New York (by Sting) with the line “I’m an alien, I’m a legal alien in New York”. Well, I’m a legal Alien in Ireland. And, unlike Sting, I have an Alien ID Card to proof it. It was issued by the Irish authorities when I first arrived in Ireland in the eighties and decided to go ligit. Luckily, I did not hand in my passport with my application, unlike a German friend of mine who never saw it again. – Nobody thought that any of this was in any way strange:)