Monday, January 23, 2012

Everyone should have a 'mountain experience'

Mountains oh mountain, climb every mountain etc.
I am offa the mountain and the van, that is my darling flower -covered adapted van just about took me home to the twin's driveway, as it grinds its way on the last lurch.
Ah but it was great driving through the mountain's small windy roads, not so great was the fact that the signage on our roads is dreadful, but its known to be and now i well believe.
Yes, over the mountain, climbing up and windy over and above the call of coming home.
I travelled onwards...looking for the sign.
We had just about every type.
Dublin yes.
Rathcoole, yes,
Kilcoole yes,
All familiar and all the places i did NOT want to go to.
I shot past the exit near Newtownmount Kennedy and had to ask a dog walker, said dog walker told me the right was the next left.
 After that i came to a T-Junction and there was a heavy posh car in front, static.
'Would you move, woman' was my inner response to procrastination.
She went right and i didn't know where to go, but i went right too.  (no signs).
WRONG, she also realised she went wrong as well,  hence her reason for stuttering along our country roads. She saw the sign for Greystones just as i did. Both of us told we were heading in the wrong direction. She pulls into a side road and i did after her and off we set, both for Greystones. She probably thought i was a spy following her.
We legged it over the windy roads, it was wonderful for the extra dimension of being a spy! She evidently came to her destination...short of Greystones by a mile...or two.
Onwards and upwards and off i went.
A signs and i make the wrong choice again.
Why do they not recognise Greystones as a viable destination needing a signpost?
It is viable.
Short and the long of it i get back to the town.
I stopped for lunch and went into the internet cafe and charity shop.
champagne glass and a necklace all for E3.
Retail therapy done, belly satisfied.
no emails and i head home.
grinding and crunching, Gud..more expense and we are in a mighty recession.
I stop again - lethal...for ceoliac cornflakes at the chemist and the Art Shop..lethal...E12 there, lethal!
what has my retail therapy come to for the day?  All of E15! Lunch came to E5.80 (precisely) and that is ooooh, E20.80, far too much.
I realise i have exceeded my limit.
By the mile.
I am off.
My van was ailing, very sick and hardly made it into the cul de sac.
I am not taking that thing onto the road until it sees a doctor.
I need a doctor too, appointment set for Wednesday.
I come home to all the bulbs i planted in  planters shining on upwards, some daffs about to spring forth, my twin's camilia, whatever its name, is ablaze with red furled buds and should be an amazing display.
my camilia, name unknown but the same,  is dropping its buds, diseased.
What more can i expect.
 I enter the home of the twin.
Oh lord the spin of it.
boxes everywhere, wheelchairs, rollators, coats, boxes and more boxes, cables and dogs and more and more.
Will i go back to the mountain and stay forever?
News being i may have access of the house by the end of the week.
Oh jays, we are off again, more boxes and chaos and spin magnified being sick and sick of it.
I have Asperger and feel every bit of it.
This is a madness of living in a brain that, well doesn't like boxes, absolutely doesn't like boxes.
Half hope though, that once the boxes find their pigeon holes i too will find my bolt hole and batten down the hatches and never come out again and never see chaos again.
I shall keep the toothpaste where it should be and the dirty underwear where it should be.
Paper shall be orderly in the 'in/out' tray.
Computer will never move again off its designated desk.
I shall sit upright in a proper chair and not horizontal on a sofa that slopes toward the floor, dangerously.
I shall have a regular, mundane and ordinary existence.
There is a book to get written and published and the exhibition to get up on walls and i shall then die a happier woman.
We had hopes and wishes, all gone.
But not hopefully, the next ten years, which according to the bible is my allotted time on earth.
So i shall have it in calm and gentleness and if anyone so much as looks crossways at me they will be shown the door and i will say a mighty "Piss off." Without feeling hurt about it, or regretful.
if you hurt another, you are allowed say 'Piss off.'
so my friends, the warning is on the tablet.
if you deny a body and tortured soul a quiet end to her life, i shall shoot from the hip and swivel and slam the door, with a Piss off in the air i shall get my trowel and plant more bulbs, daffs for the spring i shall meet the next year too.
Right?  Damn right i am Right.
Now in darkness and satisfied i am offa to sleep.

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