Heartache

1975

Ray. A great, big, cuddly bear of a man. A mutual friend introduces us at a ridiculously manic house party. Immediate connection ..... we like the same music, read the same books, have similar loathings for all things bureaucratic ... but we are both "attached". NOT a stumbling block. We laugh, we act the eejit, we run like maniacs .... he listens when I talk. Really listens. I'm not used to that.

1976

Ray is heartbroken. His German girlfriend doesn't want to be his girl friend anymore. I listen.

Ray gets on with his life. We meet, we talk, we solve the world's problems...... and we laugh. He warns me about men. Especially the controlling types. The stumbling block becomes REAL.

1979

I marry the stumbling block.

Exit Ray.

1986

Ray - the Success Story. High Powered Executive with Global Charitable Organisation. Career has taken over. World travel. Our lives have taken different paths. Mine is full of children. His is not. Sad. Distant.

2004

Coming out of the water on an unusually hot July day in Ballyvaughan in the north west coast of Clare, I notice 2 people sitting on the dunes watching me and the dog and the entourage....
I'm any mans fancy with the hair slathered to my head, the teeth chattering like castanets, the swimsuit of the variety that should have been binned and banned in the last century but I figure, what the hell..... Next thing I know, the bear is hugging me .... and I'm speechless and in tears and deleriously happy.

He's just passing through, he says, and thought he'd look us up. He came back to the house ... we talked, we laughed, we listened ...... we reminisced about our feckless youth ...... I felt furry inside.

2007

We buried Ray today.

My heart is breaking.

Lifes Little Hiccups

As I sit here navel gazing (one of my preferred pastimes), I am overwhelmed by an uneasy sense of relief. After 6 whole days of attempting to conquer the intricacies of blogging and failing MISERABLY, I now have somehow managed to arrive at "create post". I don't yet know how I did this .. but not one to look a gift horse in the mouth, I am not leaving this page until I have written SOMETHING. In my pathetic attempts to LOG IN I managed to change my password 3 times, create blogsites to supply a small African country and through all of this I managed to retain what vaguely resembles sanity. This last point is arguable, according to GB.

My heart soars with admiration and envy for the "computerati" of the world.

But life is FULL of little hiccups.

Many years ago, I went to a wedding... my first wedding. The excitement of it all. The beautiful bride to be, the handsome groom, the guests, the party, the sunny day... I was 16 and a tad on the wild side. Dressed to the nines, hair shiny, toes spotless, I was ready for the grown up world. Nobody told me about sherry. Four or five sherries later, I was feeling no pain. In fact, I wasn't feeling very much at all. The rest of the party is still a blank. And in that blankness there is curiosity, regret and pure shame. This is one of my hiccups and now that I think about it, its not so little anymore. That day was the most important day for someone very dear to me.

I guess, at this stage, she has forgiven me, but its still a little hiccup.

This kinda puts blogging into perspective.

Why is it that the weather affects us all so much? My rational mind tells me that the earth needs moisture but how much is enough? Today is the eighth day on the trot that precipitation has governed the skies. Not so much as a glimmer of sunshine.... not to mention a little ray of hope or a blast of heat... Ye gods and little fishes! My rational mind also tells me that it shouldn't REALLY bother me that its raining AGAIN but it does. My rational mind needs a holiday. Cycling home at lunch time today was quite an experience. Rain bucketing down relentlessly, drivers on the verge of insanity permitted to take charge of motorised vehicles, pedestrians glued to sidewalk walls in a vain attempt to remain something other than sodden, little children clutching their schoolbags, bent in two, against the onslaught of the elements and me. Me, aboard the ecologically friendly two wheeler, hell bent on making the journey home as short and as speedy as possible. Not to be. Bravely clutching the handlebars, legs going faster than the speed of light, water, water everywhere but remaining confident of success I pedalled forth. Only to be apprised of the presence of a large truck behind me by a loud honking of horns .. he was in a hurry, he was sick of driving in this weather, he had a fight with the trouble and strife, he didn't think cyclists should be allowed use the main roads, he was robbed of the darts match last night ...... Didn't really matter to me as I hit the tarmac .... I don't even like darts. Needless to say, with my dignity in tatters and my trusty steed in danger of being despatched to the great scrap yard in the sky, I came out fighting.... backed up by a few stalwart onlookers, a couple of whom resembled umbrella wielding grannies (a dangerous breed as everyone knows). He, after a theatrical screech of brakes, stopped and got out to give someone a piece of his mind. Big, big mistake. After much muttering and mumbling he bowed to the greater strength of the opposition. He even apologised although I do think the apology was prompted by the aforementioned umbrella wielding granny. The trusty steed is a little wonky... not running as smoothly as before ... no doubt GB(golden balls) , my long-suffering sidekick, will spend happy hours oiling and straightening, scratching his head and generally making a meal out of it and I will be eternally grateful, as usual. I think I will wait for a fine day to venture forth on my iron horse again.