Spotted on the way to work this morning: a van emblazoned with the words “Clean and Glean – Window Cleaners”. Hands up, if you think that they know what glean means. This should separate the wheat from the chaff.
Ireland
A Neighbour’s Child
While driving through Co. Limerick to visit my uncle over Christmas, my mother and I had the following conversation.
Her: You know that woman who had an affair with an English politician?
[Here I spare you details of how we whittled down the list of potential candidates until we came to Christine Keeler]
Me: Yes.
Her: Her people come from in there [pointing through hedge at farmland].
Me: I thought she was English.
Her: Well, yes, but her people were from here, her aunt was the reverend mother in Charleville.
I thought that you would like to know.
Campaigning
Background: The Government is spectacularly unpopular even by the standards of incumbent governments. A general election looms.
A young man came to the door the other night campaigning for one of the parties in Government. He looked damp but smiled gamely. My withers were wrung. “How has it been?” I asked. “Not as bad as I expected,” he said enthusiastically, “nobody has kicked me yet.” He handed me a leaflet extolling the virtues of his candidate. The Princess surveying this new form of doorstep interaction somewhat dubiously asked me, “Should I get your purse, do you want to give him a tip?” “All donations welcome,” replied our undaunted campaigner.
On the 12th day of Christmas
A very happy new year to you. We have been celebrating Christmas offline. Santa came. Everyone got lots of presents. We visited Mr. Waffle’s parents. We visited my parents. We went to our friends’ house in East Cork which has neither computers nor television. We snuck up to Dublin for a new year’s eve dinner leaving my parents and siblings to the mercy of our children. We have no news. I hope that your Christmas was equally delightful and uneventful. Tomorrow the Christmas tree comes down and normal life resumes on Monday.
Everyone’s out of Step but my Johnny
My brother places great faith in what he calls “conventional wisdom”. I sometimes think that this is because he knows I lack any very clear idea of what it might be. Regularly, when people are complaining on the radio, I just don’t get it. In the case of a media attack, I see everything from the point of view of the person who is attacked and though I want to work myself up to righteous indignation, I just can’t.
On the other side, I have a slightly puritanical streak (my mother’s side, I think) which makes me probably over-punctilious about a lot of things others are more relaxed about. When I was in college, we were talking in one class about the concept of “scope of employment”. If something is “within the scope” of an employee’s work, then the employer is liable. So, said the lecturer, if Mr. X is a lorry driver and leaves his lorry dangerously parked while going into a bar for drinks and causes an accident, is that within the scope of his employment? “No,” we chorused obediently. “How about, if he parks his lorry and hops out to make a quick call to his wife [yes, I went to college when there were no mobile phones, what of it?] and while he is out, his lorry slips and causes an accident, is that within the scope of his employment?” “No,” I said immediately. But I was the only one and I still remember how odd that felt. It turns out that making the odd phone call is actually within the scope of your employment.
I feel I am always out of step with the public mood, surprised both by what irritates and, more particularly, by what doesn’t. Does everyone feel this way or is it just me?
The Weekend that Keeps on Giving
You will recall that a couple of weeks ago we were supposed to go to Edinburgh but ended up in Belfast instead. And our hotel room was free. And now we are not being charged for our flights to Edinburgh (not in fact cancelled due to snow as we told Aer Lingus in our letter looking for a tax refund). I feel very warm and fuzzy towards Aer Lingus who not only refunded but sent a very nice letter also. Season of goodwill, clearly.