5.45am (approx.) someones car alarm goes off, not the usual car alarm, but just a car horn permanently pressed, as if Santa himself is sitting on the bleeding thing. After 10 minutes this has not stirred it’s owner to turn the thing off. Must check if this is in our quiet cul-de-sac or coming in from further afield. Down the stairs and look out the window in the hope to see the tell-tale signs of flashing lights through the blackness to indicate the guilty party….Sweet lord God, the sudden realisation that it’s not a car alarm but my sweet old Carina in full voice. I know this cause I’m standing in bare feet (cold bare feet), in biblical rain and howling wind next to my ‘sweet innocent’ Carina and its ‘horn from hell’. What ensues is a book in itself but essentially ‘BLIND’ panic that ends after about 5 minutes with a series of attempts at adjustable spanners but is only resolved with trusty ‘wire cutters’. This was all carried out without the aid of that thingymajig that holds the car bonnet up as it has gone invisible so the said bonnet rests across my broad shoulders.
The car is quiet. (The ringing in my ears took a full hour to pass) I look around and not a light in any window but I guiltily know I’ve woken the dead.
Actually after some stern talking to myself I’m realise a couple of things …
- It wasn’t the Carina’s fault but driving rain so mother nature has to take the wrap
- People with tinnitus will get a special mention in my Christmas prayers
- I cut way too many leads in my blind panic, must wait for daylight
- After watching ‘Gravity’ last night, this was a very minor intrusion in Christmas and
- Hello Christmas Diary continued
Morning Y’all, after the tale above I’m back to Christmassy stuff, the trip to Limerick turned out really lovely. Dropped into the Lyon’s household and put the presents under the tree, quick chat and we are on the road again.
Met Kay at Mam’s house and wished her a very Happy Christmas, genuinely so. I never really get around to saying how important both of my big sisters are to me. But their ever presence in Limerick and their watchful and caring eyes on Mam give me (and I’m sure a lot more besides me) such peace of mind that it is very hard to express. I save my ‘Specialist’ prayers every night for Kay and Helena. Isn’t that the truth. Ye are really such special Big Sisters. May you have the best of Christmases and a lot more besides.
After wolfing down some Matterson Sausage sandwiches we take Mam off to St. Munchin’s Church for mass and joined by Joe Benn. A beautiful crib is on display on the alter and although it’s a cold place this morning (impossible to heat such huge old churches) a warm Christmas feeling pervades the place. God St. Munchin’s is a parish of grandmothers and grandfathers, us children and our off-spring have flown the nest and won’t return for another day or so. This place will be filled to the rafters for the Christmas vigils. It is filled with thousands of memories, most of which are about uncontrollable fits of laughing as children and teenagers.
Home to Mam’s, heavy hail showers, let us know we are mid-winter but nothing a cup of Barry’s doesn’t fix instantly. Christmas hugs with the promise of a return visit very soon.
Back on the road to Cork again, Matterson sausages and Mack’s bread in the boot (Thank You so so much Mam). I’m delighted for A. Making the short trip, B. Such good driving weather and C.Having another Christmas, part of such a family.
Jess rested as we drove home, Galtee mountains showing the effect of the cold weather, not so much as snow but sleet capped.
Home to our warm house and the weather starts to worsen. I had forgotten it was due to get so bad again. It’s 8am now and there is a gale blowing outside but the peace of no ‘Car Horn’ is just beautiful.
Christmas Eve tomorrow morning.