So this morning i woke to the call of chores and having to phone the doctor.
You see i still had my stitches in from my biopsy and mole removal. Now not only was this laziness but it was forgetfulness and very bad. But it's not like we have much money, and i'm not working. So it saved us in the long run, sort of. I wasn't exactly sick from them, yet...
I also had to help my dad with a few things.
I had porridge as he painted the edge's of the walls where a flower wallpaper was previously plastered. My mother had added it to the wall instead of all 4 walls being red. Why i don't know. But i kind of got the idea. But now she hates it even more than when it went up. She went so far as to call it common.
So, in a rare showing of action my dad actually followed orders and ripped it down and started painting. Now this could have something to do with my sister returning home, so what MOTHER says in terms of the look of the house has to be obeyed.
I then phoned the doctors and got a late appointment for 10 to four.
Then when that was done we, me my dad and mad dogs, had to move a bookshelf out of the way for painting.
We catagorised the books. A LOT of cookery books. Some older than myself. Some with stains of food older than myself sticking page's together. Dust with more back story than my very existance. Dust that has passed through at least 4 house's and 30 years to get on my hands and in the air and make me sneeze. Books that were wedding presents they are that old! Books that are rejects of the 70s and are a main influence why Meat Fondu is one of our family's favourite communal meals. (I remember loosing 5 euro on the insistance's that that was what a fondu was, ignorant to the fact that it even means melted cheese in french..)
A choice example of the sort of cook book on the shelf was, A guide to Garden Herbs, Or Blender Recipe's. Seriously, blender recipe's? Who knew you had to learn what to fuck into a blender?
Then on the next shelf was my dads books. Wood working books, IQ test books, information books. Dublin and Dubliners, a collection of essays on Dublin and it's people. And a lost map of Louth that my father miss placed circa when we moved here.
He was a slightly irate however. Several of the very very old and specialist woodwork books, re-sourced from amazon to replace old copies he had years ago were now chew toys. Their bindings long since deafecated by the puppies in the gravel yard out back. And the two little mutts just woddled about unaware of any wrong doing with muddy paw prints ruining the floor i mop infrequently with great urgency to make it appear like i actually do all my chores! The cheek!
We then moved onto the upper shelves. Assorted odd cuttlery, two sugur containers, oddly with sugar in them. And candle sticks shapped like funky drink glasses with burnt out Night Lights (Tea Lights) still in them.
Assorted old birthday cards, including strangely inapropriate "sweet" sixteen cards for myself that made refference to A Shag Bird, and how i wasn't going to get any. Some's up my teenage years right there....
Old baby photos and 2 choice photo's of my sister that show her with our first dog lucy, when she was a toddler and another when she was around 14 with a baby Thrush she rescued. That girl was born to be a Vetenary nurse!
We then moved the bookshelf into the pantry beside the dogs night time cage/kenel. We stuffed the washing/ironing onto the lower shelf and tidied up the rubbish and recycling that was collecting.
Then we sat down to some computer updating.
As i mentioned before, my dad is down grading several 1,000 euro laptops from Vista to XP so he can control them more easily in his old schools network. ( I say old school, as he retired, but he still works for them since they never hired another IT teacher capable of running every computer in the school.)
So as i tinkered on the one laptop i have temporarily personalised i put in a usb key into the newly XP'ied laptops and changed their identities to the each number he wanted.
There was some trouble getting them to connect to the old network we still have here in the house.
Then my sister rang and my dad was on the phone for at least 10 minutes. Good blog reading time...
When he came back we had a shouting match of hypothosising of what the problem was. The problem was they couldn't find an IP adress because the server wasn't on. The network existed and the laptops, "mine", his (the super widescreen), the school one's and an ancient computer in the Garage could all talk to each other, but they had no IP Adress's. Strangely my dad, the IT and Technology teacher was initially stumped by this. I'm no expert but i quickly assumed you needed the server to tell the Transmitter what to do, and what to call each of the computers connecting, ie the "IP adress". From my limited knowledge of computing, it turns out i was pretty much right. The exact techinicalities are beyond me, but in essance i was right, and once the Server was turned on, it was all fine and dandy.
We XP'ied 10 laptops before i had to take a shower and dash out to do several tasks with my dad before my doctors appointment.
Showered, shaved. Hobo beards aren't good in public, no matter how rugged and Douche like you appear.
So out we went.
A Glass Glaziers first.
It was in a business park.
It wasn't well advertised so we had to drive past each of the "Plots" to see what business occupied them. I say plots, they were warehouse's of varrying size standing inside a terrible one way system of traffic in what was almost a ghost town from some angles.
We eventually found it.
The bollocks of shite rattled about Private and Public sector pay on Liveline was doing my tits in so i flicked the radio to Newstalk. No better. It was Moncrief, and something about suicide service's or some dreary shite. It was raining and murky out, i was in the car with my dad, who can be dull in a car at the best of times, this wasn't helping.
iPod earphone's in!
Didn't help.
Next stop a lamp store. Across the road from an Lidl and and an abandoned plot, adjacent to an abandonded plot that now had an "Australian Circus" in it.
As i sat there with "Dear Maria" by All Time low in my ears. I witness a horde of tracksuited youths nuckle dragg themselves across the car park of Lidl and across the wasteland towards the circus.
Then a minute or so later another one on his own came out onto the road with a Heavy lifting Trolley, the kind you see in homebase.
He just looked like he was going to knick something.
Then as my dad returned. Kids half the age of the others passed on our side of the road with a similar trolley and a stack of Wooden packaging crates. Yep it's Halloween, and it's Drogheda....
We went to yet another Retail Park around the corner, passed at least a few dozen acre's of abandoned large warehouse's and former factories or tech companies. Then into a uniformed grey business park with a large "WATER PARK" in its entrance. An indoor water park, inside a rather large Grey corrigated warehouse with odd windows here and there showing off rainbow platforms and twisty tube's and slide's.
The business my dad was looking for wasn't answering. The only "business" doing business in this god awful development was the water fun house thing.
Drogheda has some of the worst town planning imaginable. It was utterly appaling.
Then back to the lidl.
I sat and starred at the main Road that goes to the M1 but doesn't actually go onto it, and also goes back into town and the Bus Depot.
Coache's and traffic huddled by in the murkey overcast evening. I bopped about to the dying battery of my ipod as Immigrents and local yokels shoped.
We finished and head to the doctors.
While approaching the bus depot i saw a teen pushing a pram. She didn't exactly look enthusiastic....
The Doctors.
I spent most of my time waiting on my mobile, surfing on Opera Mini and Snaptu. Passing the time.
In the corner 2 toddler siblings played noisely with the toys. There mother in a pink velure tracksuit butting in every few minutes to shut them up.
Beside me a African family sat with a young girl standing beside her mother, sheepishly staring at the other children, waiting to get a chance to use the toys.
Her mother kept asking her to sit down in the seat beside me but she didn't. She stood there with her dread lockes, coloured plastic beads and sheepish face, waiting to play.
The two siblings coughed and spluttered all over the shop as the screamed and talked relative nonsense to each other and bounced around on their plastic chairs.
Then they started asking each other "do you have TICKULLLZ!!!" And then that started to get out of hand.
So angry and frustrated the Pink Tracksuited mother dragged the two out with her, either for a smoke brake or to refill the meter. It seemed like she had been called to the doctor, so the little African girl was over at the toys in a flash. Happy as larry when she found a Book on Tiger.
Then the other two returned but sat in a differnt place.
The second they came in, the floor was now their play space.
The boy instantly prosented the Door stop to his mother's face asking "what's this, what does it do?"
"put it back, Lulia get off the floor, get out from under der, yer gonna get all muckie, look here come's the doctor, the doctor's comin', he's gonna be cross with ya!"
They eventually went in.
The look of relief from the 2 OAP's tag-reading a newspaper and all it's supplements barely talking past idle celebrity gossip and tv schedule's, was priceless. They didn't really say anything but i could hear from their sighs and distain "Utter Disgrace" and so on.
Even the African Mother was relieved the terrible two were gone.
My dad then arrived in a sat with me. I had been waiting so long at this stage that he had had time to walk all the way down to West Street to the Pharmacy and back again with the perscription for my Rash (Lichen Pilanus, the rash's suspected name and diagnosis), a persciption i should have bought a week before my biopsy and mole removal, which was at the start of the month!
Finally in with the doctor.
It was the male doctor. Ie i had gone full circle over the summer after 5 appointments i had seen all the doctors, 3 of them female, 1 his wife, 1 a newbie. And now i was back with him again, after first showing him the rash 5 months ago.
The Stich on my Wrist had already snapped and all he had to do was pull it out.
The 3 on my chest were a bit harder, but standered snip and pull. They had stayed in so long the site's are a bit swallon, excoriated and scabby, but they're fine. I doubt it will leave much of a mark, but they will look like this for a while i bet. My own fault, but hey, it's not life threatening that i delayed. Not this time or for these stitches anyway.
Chit chat about failing my course and heading off to Oz. No health concerns, it's summer there soon and they got the Swine flu jab first, so all i have to worry about is putting sunscreen on EVERY day.
We got home and my dad and myself hurridly tidied up the computers, moved the books, cleaned the kitchen and started chopping onions and carrots for my mother's dinner within half an hour.
When she came in, she wasn't pushed about the stew and told the dad to put it in the lower shelf of the AGA. The Dad and I had Curly Chips and Burgers.
Thus ends my "riveting" day....
On Friday and Saturday i am attending the UCD IV with Ming as my teammate for the craic like. So i'll be AFK for a couple of days. I will loose this laptop to it's XP-ing also.
Expect some sort of word along the way. Keep an I on my facebook or twitter if you're really desperate to hear about my dull life and moderate prose.
Until next time, it's a good night from me, and it's a good night from him. Goodnight.
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