Sunday Night

Cousin is watching a programme called Suits where the most commonly used line by any character is I don’t give a shit about…. If there were a swear box it would be getting quite full. As dialogue goes, I feel it lacks a certain je ne sais quoi. Do the script writers have these words on a clipboard and paste them in every few lines or so? I think I’ll stick with Shakespeare.

Night is falling and I plan to head off to bed soon. Tonight we have not been to the hospital so we are at home and the prospect of getting to sleep before midnight is deeply attractive. Westie Boy and I had another walk.

We have a deal: he can stick his head into rabbit holes so long as I can take photos. These are my favourite gate posts along the road. I must have photo graphed them dozens of times.

Quite a few of the pictures of hedgerow flowers I have tried to take have suffered from a sudden impatient tug by Westie Boy at the other end of the lead. Really he is not keeping to his part if the deal very well, maybe he resents the fact that I refuse to let him roll in the cow manure that patterns much of the road.

We were going to head out this afternoon, but Cousin had mislaid her car keys. They turned up after a three hour search. The police weren’t called out, but it was a close thing. While we searched the skies turned grey and the rain lashed down. But it suddenly turned into a beautiful evening, with sunshine and blue skies, so we went for a drive and looked at the area where Aunt was born, the place where she and mother were sent to live with the childless couple, the site of the family farm now developed and home to a grand house. Our great-grandfather’s house and farm has also been sold and the driveway is now protected by sturdy gates which were closed. Twenty years ago we went there with Mother and were welcomed by the then tenant.

A bit of a contrast with the grey skies yesterday when we were at the Titanic Quarter. I was very impressed. by the whole thing, and hope to go back for a further visit next time I am over.

Tomorrow I am back in Belfast to see Uncle Bill and Aunt Ella and have lunch with them. I’ve got a few family history questions to ask, so I must remember to take a notebook. Then I have one full day left before flying back to London on Wednesday. It’s gone unbelievably fast.

There’s something not right with the wifi here and the signal is quite weak. One if the things it won’t let me do is use Reader to read posts by people I follow, so there could be some catching up when I am home.

 

Advertisement