Porridge in the morning
Grandad April 5th, 2008
I was woken out of a very very deep sleep this morning by Sandy barking. Herself nudging me in the ribs didn’t help.
“There’s someone at the door,” she muttered and went back to sleep.
I dragged myself out of bed and stuck my head out the window, which happens to be beside the front door.
“Two minutes,” says I.
It was a bloke who said he would call around to discuss a job. He said Saturday morning, which is fine by me as I’m usually an early riser. But not this morning.
I brought him in, but I was on auto-pilot. My brain was still in neutral. I could not think. My mind had the consistency of thick porridge.
I saw the kettle and it inspired me. It was something I recognised. “Mug of tea?” I suggested. “Fine,” says the bloke.
So I made the tea and we sat down and stared at each other. He waited for me to speak, while I sat wondering who the hell he was, and who the hell I was. A dribble of saliva ran down my chin into my beard.
“How much will it cost?” I asked, after a severe mental struggle.
“How much will what cost?” he replied.
I tried to remember. Then it came to me in a moment of inspiration – I had drawn a sketch of the work. I gave it to him. This gave me some breathing space as he had to sit politely and examine my sketch. He asked some questions. I gave completely irrelevant answers, which confused both of us. By dint of cross examination, he got the gist of what I wanted, and said he would phone me. He left.
About an hour later, I mentally woke up.
I’m as sharp as a razor now.
Any questions?
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How many fingers am I holding up?
Uncanny that. Just this morning there was a man knocking on my door with soft hat – I didn’t hear him either. Not surprising I suppose.
Bock – That is extremely rude! I’ll have none of that here.
Primal – Tell him to use the knocker next time?
Did you get your porridge?
Grandad,
Are you sure that it wasn’t the parish priest doing a pastoral call and that he just humoured you in order to get out of the company of someone he thought quite mad?
Ian
(who, while you were lying in bed this morning, had breakfast in town, went to the record shops in the arcade, bought three books in Hodges Figgis and is going to the pub at five to watch the rugby – humungous number of brownie points used up in a day!)
Was he little?(Can’t spell lep…..) Did he ask you questions three?
Whatever he’s charging you …. We’ll do it for 10% less (not inclusive of other related charges; tea-break surcharge, brown envelope contribution for Bertie/Cowen – we’re in transition so a slightly higher fee here, bog roll costs, tool hire – me and the bruver).
Cheap at the price Grandad …. and we don’t fleece auld lads …. unless it’s in putting up gutters/fascia/soffit that’s not needed …. but we’ll do it anyway and present the ginormous bill to you, allowing you the privilege of being intimidated and robbed at the same time.
On second thoughts …. here’s the bill ….. pay it now …. we’ll be around to finish the job later.
Ian: I hope you’ll be cheering for the People’s Champions
Grannymar – I ended up having a boiled egg. But not egg on my face.
Ian – I am still waiting for the Pastoral Visit. I have my Pentangle and severed goats head prominently on display in the porch.
TT – He was little [by my standards] and he did ask questions but he wasn’t a lep… Leastwise, I saw no sign of a pot of gold.
Paddy – You’re on. Do you use the pupils for hard labour? Fair play!
Bock – Feck off outa here. I’ll have no sport related discussions on this site.
It isn’t sport. It’s religion.
Grandad,
Bock’s question isn’t about sport – it’s about that ancient Irish quandary about who one hates the most. Coming from Somerset, where the neighbouring county is Gloucester, and living in Leinster, where the neighbouring province is Munster, which should I most dislike?
PS. I sometimes get phoned up by little old ladies wanting me to decorate their kitchen or put up shelves – I have a namesake in Blackrock who specialises in such things – I must get Paddy Bloggit’s details and put them on to him.
I thought the new religion was Retail Therapy, and the new Vatican was Dundrum Shopping Centre?
And Ian – in your position, you should be more tolerant. You shouldn’t be using words like ‘hate’ and ‘dislike’.
think you have that job in the bag no worries grandad
So what ‘work’ is being done? Facelift? Tummy Tuck? Glute implants?
Grandad,
You have to remember that Protestants do the Old Testament as well as the New – we are not averse to a bit of smiting!
Anyway, the team I disliked least beat the team I disliked most and you haven’t yet shared with us a sketch of this work.
Leaving all that aside, I must point out to you that we won comprehensively.
Laura – Do you think so? I wasn’t awake enough to notice.
Baino – It’s a bit top secret at the moment. If the CIA find out, I’m screwed.
Ian – I like a bit of smiting. Do you have any application forms lying around?
So the lesser of two evils won, huh?
Bock – You are the lesser of two evils. I always suspected ….
Ship of Fools provides an online resource for smiters:
http://ship.saintsimeon.co.uk/curses/index.html
What are you getting done, Grandad? If it’s a big job don’t forget to get a written quote.
Yay! You’re finally getting around to building that time-machine? About bloody time, too. Hey at least when it’s finished you can go back to this morning and figure out what yer man was all about…