Our lives

Fowl Humour

I was walking down the street last night, in the rain.

The weather was horrible; howling wind, pelting sleet and freezing cold. I was wearing something warm, so that wasn’t a problem. I was out walking in the rain as I had my head lodged so firmly up my arse there was simply nothing else for it.

I walked along the river, where I love to walk, cursing and muttering to myself.

I noted a place where a sixteen-year-old girl had recently lost her life.  I noted those feelings I feel when I feel bad for something that’s happened. A feeling of sadness and confusion, mixed with feelings of hope that I never have to be that parent, mixed with the acknowledgement that, even though I’m in a foul mood, I’m nowhere near feeling that bad.

I walk on. The rain is spitting into my face, I’m walking so fast I’m impressing myself. At least this is exercise, I think.  On my way back up town I see well-dressed folk going into busy restaurants. I curse them and their well-turned-outedness. A friend greets me with a chirpy “Hiiiiii”, I see her almost too late. She looks amazing and smells so good I can still get her scent several feet on up the street. I curse her and her pristine appearance, aware how Quasimodoesque I am, in my thought and in my words, in what I have done …

But that’s just it, I haven’t done anything. I’m having what’s known as “one of those days” and I’m buying into every clichéd feeling that comes with these “holidays”. 

I got no easter egg, I mutter to myself. Why does everyone else get one but me?

I like chocolate, bastards. Why didn’t I get invited somewhere for a nice roast turkey dinner?   Bastards, I spit to myself, hunching further up the road till I get home. I’m having a tantrum, and nobody’s going to stop me.

I’m the proud Mammy of two large youths. I love them, I wouldn’t swap and all that, yes I’m blessed, lucky, I know, I really do. My kids are at that age when they hang about the house, doing their own thing and I’m the catering and housekeeping department. I indulge in classic thoughts of “sure they don’t even know I’m here” and “surely they wouldn’t notice if I went off somewhere for the weekend”. But they would, and they do know I’m here and I have to be here, and I’m lucky and I know all that.

I call a friend for a rant. She knows me well. It’s cabin fever, she says. What we all get on these extra long weekends.

I sigh. I’ve done the cinema, I’ve done the visit to the pig farm, the friends’ houses, the cinema again and some garden fete thingy. I’ve spent a pile of money. We are all fed and watered and well-looked after, nothing to complain about really. That doesn’t stop me.

Go out for a walk, she says, you’ll feel better.

Another friend offers to listen to me rant, but I’m too shitty for company so I’m an arse instead. When I get back in from my walk, soaked and freezing I get right back on the phone.

It didn’t work, I witter at her I’m still angry.

Go to bed, she says.

What? At 8.30 in the evening?

She also has cabin fever, and is decluttering Lego from her sons bedroom, with her husband. Married life isn’t always sexy either I guess.

I snort at her suggestion and go upstairs to have a shower. My bed looks inviting, I’d changed the covers earlier so it has that lovely fresh hotelly feeling.

I’ll just lie down here for a minute, I think. Feels good.

Wow, I walked that walk in record time, I muse to myself. Half the usual time. Anger and frustration can be great motivators. I’ll just turn off the light for a minute, I think as I turn over and flick the switch.

I’m gone, for ages. I wake up slowly in the snuffly half light of a night-time house with the lights on low downstairs. My younger son is laughing his head off at Michael McIntyre on TV, I pull on my PJs and fake Uggs and shuffle down to him. I lie on the couch, he pulls my legs over his and pulls a blanket over both of us.

Mammy want toast? he asks.

I nod, I’d love some toast, any chance of a cup of tea. He’s on it, we are in bits laughing, and all is somehow not shitty anymore.


Val’s Kitchen

9 replies on “Fowl Humour”

Great,great post Val.

I seem to be in a perpetual cycle of ‘One of those days’. Yet I find if you hang on long enough something or someone will break the cycle. Be it ever so humble as someone putting the kettle on for you.

The trick is hanging on long enough.

Great post Val.. Irish weather does seem more fitting and acceptable for a foul mood. No excuse for me being in 70 degree weather at the moment.
And jeez if you’re Quasimodoesque, then there isn’t a hope for the rest of us .. :) Having watched your interview with Trevor Sargent you looked very well turned out and pristine!

Great post Val, I was walkin right there with you .
It was a strange week-end, My youngest daughter and I were rearranging the house to accomodate new need’s.
When we began the prospect of facing into the mountaineous pile of shit that had to be rearranged, kept,, discarded, so many decisions about so much shit, I was instantly grumpy, cranky, monosyllabic, I too had flashes of people I did’nt see living clean organised fun filled lives this week-end.
As we progressed, We found old photo’s, old clothes which we could never imagine wearing, ,little cards and messages all of us had left for each other through the years, We laughed and reminisced.
I realised that a space that had functioned for the past few years as a “dump room ” a place of total transient movement of our lives had filled so many functions from our original kitchen through to bedroom,workplace, office, living room,, That room was my favourite room in the house but I always surrendered it for whatever function was needed at the time.
It was and is a room where so many memories, laughter, tears, arguements, confusion and hope seems embedded in the wall’s, Our’s and probably all the people who lived here before us, We relieved the space of all the clutter and restored it to a place of wonder……..Then it was made very clear in the most loving way that it was now her space !
I was no longer grumpy, I felt very fortunate that all the kid’s still see it as home and that one of them still wants to live here, No fancy dinner or life that might appear more suited to ” bank holiday ” activities could have been better, Except for your toast………….nothing like late night toast with the kids !

great post to read first thing in the morning lots better than David Mc williams and all his doom and gloom. I have have had the old cabin fever me self as a companion many a time but your rantings this morning are an insperation. Don’t have any advice except “Corpo Diem”

I think the weather sometimes affects us unknown to ourselves. And of course there’s the months of putting up with the lack of sunshine which certainly does knock us back. A slow weekend away in a very sunny place can lift things no end. Hard to get that where we are; stuck out in the middle of the fecking atlantic!

Hi guys, thanks for all the encouraging words. Sometimes it’s good to get the mundane crap off our chests, we all go through it and then it’s gone. NIce and sunny now, inside and out :)

I loved it, I have walked that walk, had that talk and yes indeed just now had a rant because I didn’t get an easter egg. The sun will be high tomorrow, thank you for the reminiscence

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