Mercredi 08.11.06 Back to Dublin
Surprise. Surprise. No, it’s not Cilla Black. It’s just a damp, dark day. Il pleut des cordes. It’s lashing rain again - but it is my day off so I’d miss it if it didn’t. It’s not a day for regularity. Nic and I have about twenty tea breaks - I suppose we do have to make up for all the tea we missed out on during our holiday. Nicola will get plenty of fluids over the next week as she’s heading back to Ireland for the week. Between the Grad, the ball and meeting up with family and friends in Ireland she’ll be well watered.
It’s no time until she has to get the bus. It’s still raining but kitted out in our raincoats and umbrellas we trek up the hill to the bus stop. I see her off and trudge back down the road with my face streaming like the rivers flowing down the road. At least the rain will help get rid of some of that unsightly and smelly fruit that has been rotting there for ages.
I can’t believe how tired and drained I feel after working two easy days. I suppose I’ve boat-lag or something. It’s slow work catching up with my diary entries though it’ll be worth it in many years to come…
I don’t have the place to myself for long. A large yellow crab scuttles past the terrace and a gigantic frilly black moth that’s the size of both my hands lands above the kitchen door. The one person who is fascinated by such creatures is our Botanist assistant James; he texts me later that night and signs off by telling me to have fun with the beast of a butterfly.
I sing myself silly that night as I listen to my guilty pleasure music collection: SugarBabes, GirlsAloud, Ashlee Simpson, Ciara and Co. The night ends with me dragging myself away from some ancient English spy film about M5, the KGB and NATO… I sleep with the fishes that night.
No comments:
Post a Comment