<?xml version='1.0' encoding='UTF-8'?><?xml-stylesheet href="http://www.blogger.com/styles/atom.css" type="text/css"?><feed xmlns='http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom' xmlns:openSearch='http://a9.com/-/spec/opensearchrss/1.0/' xmlns:georss='http://www.georss.org/georss' xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1966733609602160769</id><updated>2011-07-29T05:32:53.442+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Life in the slow lane</title><subtitle type='html'></subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cummal-bane.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1966733609602160769/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cummal-bane.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><link rel='next' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1966733609602160769/posts/default?start-index=101&amp;max-results=100'/><author><name>Cummal Bane</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13074366409885058423</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_uFro3ZXR-uI/SLjgPv5K-ZI/AAAAAAAAAD0/9ozwDlF4HBg/S220/Pic_0011a.jpg'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>108</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1966733609602160769.post-2312932609683978391</id><published>2009-10-15T20:22:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2009-10-15T20:23:13.579+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Does this work?</title><content type='html'>&lt;object width="512" height="400"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.bbc.co.uk/emp/external/player.swf"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowScriptAccess" value="always"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="FlashVars" value="playlist=http%3A%2F%2Fwww%2Ebbc%2Eco%2Euk%2F%2Fradio2%2Femp%2Fxml%2Fchris%2Drea%2Fchris%2Drea%2D03%2Exml&amp;amp;config_settings_skin=silver&amp;amp;config_settings_displayMode=video&amp;amp;config_settings_showFooter=true&amp;amp;"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.bbc.co.uk/emp/external/player.swf" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowfullscreen="true" allowscriptaccess="always" width="512" height="400" flashvars="playlist=http%3A%2F%2Fwww%2Ebbc%2Eco%2Euk%2F%2Fradio2%2Femp%2Fxml%2Fchris%2Drea%2Fchris%2Drea%2D03%2Exml&amp;amp;config_settings_skin=silver&amp;amp;config_settings_displayMode=video&amp;amp;config_settings_showFooter=true&amp;amp;"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1966733609602160769-2312932609683978391?l=cummal-bane.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cummal-bane.blogspot.com/feeds/2312932609683978391/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1966733609602160769&amp;postID=2312932609683978391' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1966733609602160769/posts/default/2312932609683978391'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1966733609602160769/posts/default/2312932609683978391'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cummal-bane.blogspot.com/2009/10/does-this-work.html' title='Does this work?'/><author><name>Cummal Bane</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13074366409885058423</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_uFro3ZXR-uI/SLjgPv5K-ZI/AAAAAAAAAD0/9ozwDlF4HBg/S220/Pic_0011a.jpg'/></author><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1966733609602160769.post-5736985474575259869</id><published>2009-03-04T20:35:00.000Z</published><updated>2009-03-05T20:47:41.455Z</updated><title type='text'>Ouch!</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: justify; font-family: arial;"&gt;Today was blood donors day.  I have been giving for a while now, and so I thought nothing of yesterday.  I was wrong.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I got there aftera  reasonable session at the gym.  I had done more on most of the exercises so was feeling good.  I was early, so did not have to wait long before I was called in.  I am always hoping that my blood level will be high enough - I am always at the low end, but have only been rejected once (though once they were on the verge of rejecting me and they tried the other testing machine, which showed I was fine!)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway that went through, and so of I go to get onto my bed.  It was my favourite helper there - a lady I got to know when I was working at M&amp;amp;S and she was a regular shopper.  Anyway, as the nurse was putting the needle in and starting the flow, she caught it and it caught a nerve/  It was really sore - right down my arm to my fingers!  I enarly jumped off the bed!  The poor lady was so apologetic about it.  She asked if I wanted to stop, and stayed there holding the needle because it was making the tiops of my fingers feel numb.  She was lovely and could not have been more upset if it had happened to her!  My heklper though was keeping an eye on me as well, so I was in good hands.  Even the doctor is someone I know from the hospital!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So in the end it took me longer to get back on my feet, and was  not allowed to leave until I had drunk all my tea!  I felt ok but was taking it easy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Thursday update - you should see the bruising on my arm!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1966733609602160769-5736985474575259869?l=cummal-bane.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cummal-bane.blogspot.com/feeds/5736985474575259869/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1966733609602160769&amp;postID=5736985474575259869' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1966733609602160769/posts/default/5736985474575259869'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1966733609602160769/posts/default/5736985474575259869'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cummal-bane.blogspot.com/2009/03/ouch.html' title='Ouch!'/><author><name>Cummal Bane</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13074366409885058423</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_uFro3ZXR-uI/SLjgPv5K-ZI/AAAAAAAAAD0/9ozwDlF4HBg/S220/Pic_0011a.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1966733609602160769.post-6370047832848093662</id><published>2009-02-24T22:13:00.002Z</published><updated>2009-02-24T22:39:54.802Z</updated><title type='text'>I am back</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: justify; font-family: arial;"&gt;Yes I am back from my wanderings.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I got back to the island on Saturday after over 2 weeks away - my longest trip this millenium!  It was a mixed trip.  It started of as a bit of a rush, as I had to go over early because dad had caught pneumonia, and mum was beside herself with worry.  So after a day of rushing around - changing bookings, ordering prescriptions and making sure Pepsi was looked after, I got away.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Fortunately, the antibiotics kicked in, and dad survived.  It was touch and go, but he made it.  That was a weight off mum's mind, but it also meant I could take my long planned trip to York.  I stayed in a nice B&amp;amp;B which is coinvenient for the city, as it is only 3 minutes walk from Bootham Bar, one of the gates.  York is confusing - its gates are called bars and its streets are called gates!  I had a good time there, even though the last day was curtailed be snow falling and making the whole place cold and wet (I stayed in and read!)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;From York, I went to spend the weekend with my sister and her family.  That was the usual slice of chaos, not helped by the fact that they are in the middle of a lot of work on the house!  But it was a good weekend.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then back to mum's for a week.  A lot of that time was spent helping ehr sort things out, which meant we did not get all our outings.  But we got some of them.  And I was able to spend some time with my friends over there on the 'other island'&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;One thing we did while I was there was go and see dad.  He was lying in bed, not responding at all.  If it had not been for the name on the door, it could have been a total stranger in there.  It was horrible.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So that is my mixed trip away.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1966733609602160769-6370047832848093662?l=cummal-bane.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cummal-bane.blogspot.com/feeds/6370047832848093662/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1966733609602160769&amp;postID=6370047832848093662' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1966733609602160769/posts/default/6370047832848093662'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1966733609602160769/posts/default/6370047832848093662'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cummal-bane.blogspot.com/2009/02/i-am-back.html' title='I am back'/><author><name>Cummal Bane</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13074366409885058423</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_uFro3ZXR-uI/SLjgPv5K-ZI/AAAAAAAAAD0/9ozwDlF4HBg/S220/Pic_0011a.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1966733609602160769.post-512285278384732053</id><published>2009-02-23T19:46:00.001Z</published><updated>2009-02-24T22:49:18.590Z</updated><title type='text'>Read in a waiting room</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: justify; font-family: arial;"&gt;A thousand candles can be lighted from a single candle, yet the life of the candle is not shortened. Happiness is never decreased by being shared.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Buddha&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1966733609602160769-512285278384732053?l=cummal-bane.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cummal-bane.blogspot.com/feeds/512285278384732053/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1966733609602160769&amp;postID=512285278384732053' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1966733609602160769/posts/default/512285278384732053'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1966733609602160769/posts/default/512285278384732053'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cummal-bane.blogspot.com/2009/02/read-in-waiting-room.html' title='Read in a waiting room'/><author><name>Cummal Bane</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13074366409885058423</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_uFro3ZXR-uI/SLjgPv5K-ZI/AAAAAAAAAD0/9ozwDlF4HBg/S220/Pic_0011a.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1966733609602160769.post-1209119948942256406</id><published>2009-02-02T09:59:00.008Z</published><updated>2009-02-24T22:40:45.389Z</updated><title type='text'>Basket case!</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: justify; font-family: arial;"&gt;Yes it is official - I am a basket case!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I spent a very enjoyable Saturday recently learning how to make woven baskets.  And believe me, it is not as easy as it looks!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There were 9 of us on the course, along with 2 instructors. It is a good thing there were not more, as the space required is quite considerable! As is the effort, with a lot of grunting going on as we pulled the willow into place. Indeed, if someone had been listening outside, they might have come to some very strange conclusions! And if they had come in, they would have found most of us on our knees, looking like some weird prayer meeting!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But the end result, while lacking a certain professionalism, is still in one piece. The big test is how it will survive drying out, as that will shrink and loosen the willow. I have planted some offcuts of willow to see if they will grow - the soil is wet but the temperatures have dropped, so we will see!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh - and here it is!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_uFro3ZXR-uI/SYbYMZb0cKI/AAAAAAAAAG8/-YkYc6FBV9E/s1600-h/Basket2.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 256px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_uFro3ZXR-uI/SYbYMZb0cKI/AAAAAAAAAG8/-YkYc6FBV9E/s320/Basket2.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5298159719145566370" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_uFro3ZXR-uI/SYbX0hI3lMI/AAAAAAAAAG0/YyhB_5FMK40/s1600-h/Basket1.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 256px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_uFro3ZXR-uI/SYbX0hI3lMI/AAAAAAAAAG0/YyhB_5FMK40/s320/Basket1.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5298159308896703682" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1966733609602160769-1209119948942256406?l=cummal-bane.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cummal-bane.blogspot.com/feeds/1209119948942256406/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1966733609602160769&amp;postID=1209119948942256406' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1966733609602160769/posts/default/1209119948942256406'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1966733609602160769/posts/default/1209119948942256406'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cummal-bane.blogspot.com/2009/02/basket-case.html' title='Basket case!'/><author><name>Cummal Bane</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13074366409885058423</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_uFro3ZXR-uI/SLjgPv5K-ZI/AAAAAAAAAD0/9ozwDlF4HBg/S220/Pic_0011a.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_uFro3ZXR-uI/SYbYMZb0cKI/AAAAAAAAAG8/-YkYc6FBV9E/s72-c/Basket2.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1966733609602160769.post-3187485988197084530</id><published>2009-01-19T06:45:00.001Z</published><updated>2009-01-19T06:45:51.909Z</updated><title type='text'>Here am I</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;This is my flesh.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;I give it to you.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;These are my thoughts,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;and this is my work.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;Here are my faults.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;here is the fear&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;I discuss with myself.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;Here are my good jokes,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;here are my bad ones.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;The flesh is falling apart, &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;it will have to do.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;The thoughts are uncontrollable&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;some of them hate each other.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;Here is my sweat,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;and myd ecay,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;the face only mirrors see.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;This is my love&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;and my lack of love.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;Here is my laughter. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;here are the years.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;here am I.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic; font-family: arial;"&gt;Steve Turner 1982&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1966733609602160769-3187485988197084530?l=cummal-bane.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cummal-bane.blogspot.com/feeds/3187485988197084530/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1966733609602160769&amp;postID=3187485988197084530' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1966733609602160769/posts/default/3187485988197084530'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1966733609602160769/posts/default/3187485988197084530'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cummal-bane.blogspot.com/2009/01/here-am-i.html' title='Here am I'/><author><name>Cummal Bane</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13074366409885058423</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_uFro3ZXR-uI/SLjgPv5K-ZI/AAAAAAAAAD0/9ozwDlF4HBg/S220/Pic_0011a.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1966733609602160769.post-6433262647237141300</id><published>2009-01-18T19:27:00.000Z</published><updated>2009-01-18T19:28:21.310Z</updated><title type='text'>Good ... better ... best!</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: justify; font-family: arial;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Good&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Garda traffic police had a perfect spot to watch for speeders, but were not catching many.  Eventually, they discovered the problem – a 12 year old boy was standing up the road with a hand-painted sign which read ‘SPEED TRAP AHEAD’.  The Garda also found his accomplice down the road with a sign reading ‘TIPS’ and a bucket full of money.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Better&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A motorist was mailed a photo of his car speeding through an automatic speed trap, along with an 80 euro fine.  Being cute, he sent the gardai a photo of 80 euros.  The gardai responded with a mailed photo of handcuffs.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Best&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A young woman was pulled over for speeding.  As, the Traffic Corps Garda walked to her car window, flipping open his ticket book, she said ‘I bet you are going to sell me a ticket to the Garda Traffic Department Ball.”  He replied “The Garda Traffic Department don’t have balls…”  There was a moment of silence.  He then closed his book, got back into his patrol car and left.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1966733609602160769-6433262647237141300?l=cummal-bane.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cummal-bane.blogspot.com/feeds/6433262647237141300/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1966733609602160769&amp;postID=6433262647237141300' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1966733609602160769/posts/default/6433262647237141300'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1966733609602160769/posts/default/6433262647237141300'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cummal-bane.blogspot.com/2009/01/good-better-best.html' title='Good ... better ... best!'/><author><name>Cummal Bane</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13074366409885058423</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_uFro3ZXR-uI/SLjgPv5K-ZI/AAAAAAAAAD0/9ozwDlF4HBg/S220/Pic_0011a.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1966733609602160769.post-7885119279412775077</id><published>2009-01-13T11:49:00.002Z</published><updated>2009-01-13T12:03:37.691Z</updated><title type='text'>I ache - therefore I am ...</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;...or I am therefore I ache (Marvin, Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;Well I made it back.  First visit to the gym today. and boy!, did it take it out of me!  I only managed one set, and half my rowing, and that was enough.  In fact, as I staggered off to the shower, it felt like it was more than enough!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;And why the lay-off, I hear you cry?  (I have very good hearing you know!)  Well the good old Manx winter laid me quite low, with a cold the likes of which I have not had for many years.  No it was &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; font-family: arial;"&gt;not&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt; man-flu. but a good old fashioned cold.  It coincided with one of the coldest spells of weather here for many years, so all I was fit to do was huddle in layer upon layer of clothes.  I must have looked like the Michelin Man!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;But the days are getting longer, the weather is warmer (for now anyway!) and I feel better.  I hope this goes on for a bit!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1966733609602160769-7885119279412775077?l=cummal-bane.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cummal-bane.blogspot.com/feeds/7885119279412775077/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1966733609602160769&amp;postID=7885119279412775077' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1966733609602160769/posts/default/7885119279412775077'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1966733609602160769/posts/default/7885119279412775077'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cummal-bane.blogspot.com/2009/01/i-ache-therefore-i-am.html' title='I ache - therefore I am ...'/><author><name>Cummal Bane</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13074366409885058423</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_uFro3ZXR-uI/SLjgPv5K-ZI/AAAAAAAAAD0/9ozwDlF4HBg/S220/Pic_0011a.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1966733609602160769.post-3313216737573473771</id><published>2009-01-01T00:01:00.002Z</published><updated>2009-01-01T08:47:46.741Z</updated><title type='text'>Quaaltagh</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: justify; font-family: arial;"&gt;First footing - the custom of bringing good wishes and good luck into the home.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A traditional blessing was&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Nollick Ghennal erriu as blein feer vie&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify; font-family: arial;"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Seihll as slaynt da'n slane lught thie&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Bea as gennallys eu bio ry cheilley &lt;/span&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify; font-family: arial;"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Shee as graih eddyr mraane as deiney&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify; font-family: arial;"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Cooid as cowryn, stock as stoyr&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify; font-family: arial;"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Palchey puddase as skedden dy liooar&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify; font-family: arial;"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify; font-family: arial;"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(A merry Christmas and a good new year&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify; font-family: arial;"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Luck and health to your whole household&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify; font-family: arial;"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Life pleasantness and sprightliness to you together&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify; font-family: arial;"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Peace and love between men and women&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify; font-family: arial;"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Goods and riches, stock and store&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify; font-family: arial;"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Plenty of spuds and herring enough)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;I can't put it better than that, except to wish you&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt;Shee as boggey erriu car ny Heeaney sho cheet&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="font-family: arial; text-align: center;"&gt; (peace and joy to you throughout the coming year)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1966733609602160769-3313216737573473771?l=cummal-bane.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cummal-bane.blogspot.com/feeds/3313216737573473771/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1966733609602160769&amp;postID=3313216737573473771' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1966733609602160769/posts/default/3313216737573473771'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1966733609602160769/posts/default/3313216737573473771'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cummal-bane.blogspot.com/2009/01/quaaltagh.html' title='Quaaltagh'/><author><name>Cummal Bane</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13074366409885058423</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_uFro3ZXR-uI/SLjgPv5K-ZI/AAAAAAAAAD0/9ozwDlF4HBg/S220/Pic_0011a.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1966733609602160769.post-889963463833299310</id><published>2008-12-25T06:27:00.005Z</published><updated>2008-12-31T22:26:25.677Z</updated><title type='text'>Nollick ghennal!</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: justify; font-family: arial;"&gt;Bannaghtyn y nollick - Manx season's greetings to you all.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A good Oie'll Voirrey (Christmas Eve - literally "Mary's night") last night.  and her mother came up.  I was worried as they were running late (daughter in the bath and was waiting for her mum to tell her to get out; mum asleep on the sofa after dealing with the cat!).  But the meat was cooking, and when they got here we had dinner (fresh pineapple to start, gammon with potatoes, cauliflower cheese and yorkshire pudding, then spiced peaces and cream to finish).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The really nice thing was that we could spend time together.  In the past, they have headed off to her grandmother's down south.  This time, they could stay, and talk over a glass of wine (well alcopop in my daughter's case) and catch up.  It was the closest thing to a family Christmas for years!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway - work calls.  So I wish you shee as boggey erriu (peace and joy to you).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Nollick ghennal!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1966733609602160769-889963463833299310?l=cummal-bane.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cummal-bane.blogspot.com/feeds/889963463833299310/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1966733609602160769&amp;postID=889963463833299310' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1966733609602160769/posts/default/889963463833299310'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1966733609602160769/posts/default/889963463833299310'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cummal-bane.blogspot.com/2008/12/nollick-ghennal.html' title='Nollick ghennal!'/><author><name>Cummal Bane</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13074366409885058423</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_uFro3ZXR-uI/SLjgPv5K-ZI/AAAAAAAAAD0/9ozwDlF4HBg/S220/Pic_0011a.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1966733609602160769.post-553000007402925992</id><published>2008-12-18T10:46:00.003Z</published><updated>2008-12-18T11:04:40.676Z</updated><title type='text'>T'was the week before Christmas...</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: justify; font-family: arial;"&gt;...and all through the house -&lt;br /&gt;Not a creature was stirring,&lt;br /&gt;Not even a mouse.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Though if I did find a mouse, I am not sure what Pepsi would do with it.  I know what Hamish would have done though - he would have watched it run around.  I know that because I did find one, and he had no idea what to do about it!  When it comes to cats, though, she knows &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;exactly &lt;/span&gt;what to do!  A strange white cat was passing through the back garden on its own business.  Pepsi saw it, and was straight out of the window and chased it off under next door's decking.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ahh Christmas.  'Tis the season to be merry (though for many people, merry becomes blotto).  'Tis also the season to be greedy, aggressive, angry, mean and bad-tempered.  I am opting out of most of the Christmas Day festivities by working (when was I ever conventional?).  Christmas dinner will be served on Christmas Eve, with the traditional ham (don't like turkey that much) with potatoes and cauliflower cheese.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I will be glad when it is over.  My local bakerery is closed from Christmas Eve until onday 29th, so I have to think ahead and freeze some bread.  With being on day shift next week, I will be limited as to when I can shop, and I will have to plan ahead.  And then get in enough to get me through until at least the Saturday.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And now I am off to help a friend with her cat.  I need to hold her so that she can be de-fleaed.  That will get me riught off the cat's Christmas card list...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1966733609602160769-553000007402925992?l=cummal-bane.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cummal-bane.blogspot.com/feeds/553000007402925992/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1966733609602160769&amp;postID=553000007402925992' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1966733609602160769/posts/default/553000007402925992'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1966733609602160769/posts/default/553000007402925992'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cummal-bane.blogspot.com/2008/12/twas-week-before-christmas.html' title='T&apos;was the week before Christmas...'/><author><name>Cummal Bane</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13074366409885058423</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_uFro3ZXR-uI/SLjgPv5K-ZI/AAAAAAAAAD0/9ozwDlF4HBg/S220/Pic_0011a.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1966733609602160769.post-7058094368399796091</id><published>2008-12-10T20:52:00.002Z</published><updated>2008-12-10T21:01:35.755Z</updated><title type='text'>A Christmas prayer</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center; font-family: arial;"&gt;When I am weighted down with tiredness,&lt;br /&gt;when I am bound down with the knots of things I haven't done,&lt;br /&gt;people I haven't seen,&lt;br /&gt;cards I haven't written,&lt;br /&gt;prayers I haven't said;&lt;br /&gt;when the demands of Christmas silence its music,&lt;br /&gt;come to me and free me;&lt;br /&gt;come to me and quieten me;&lt;br /&gt;come to me and love me as I am.&lt;br /&gt;Come to me.&lt;br /&gt;Amen.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Lynne Chitty&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1966733609602160769-7058094368399796091?l=cummal-bane.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cummal-bane.blogspot.com/feeds/7058094368399796091/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1966733609602160769&amp;postID=7058094368399796091' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1966733609602160769/posts/default/7058094368399796091'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1966733609602160769/posts/default/7058094368399796091'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cummal-bane.blogspot.com/2008/12/christmas-prayer.html' title='A Christmas prayer'/><author><name>Cummal Bane</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13074366409885058423</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_uFro3ZXR-uI/SLjgPv5K-ZI/AAAAAAAAAD0/9ozwDlF4HBg/S220/Pic_0011a.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1966733609602160769.post-551994443795888915</id><published>2008-12-07T21:04:00.000Z</published><updated>2008-12-10T21:07:58.101Z</updated><title type='text'>Just a thought</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;"Railways and the church have their critics, but both are the best ways of getting a man to his ultimate destination"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;font-size:85%;" &gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Revd. W. Awdry&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1966733609602160769-551994443795888915?l=cummal-bane.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cummal-bane.blogspot.com/feeds/551994443795888915/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1966733609602160769&amp;postID=551994443795888915' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1966733609602160769/posts/default/551994443795888915'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1966733609602160769/posts/default/551994443795888915'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cummal-bane.blogspot.com/2008/12/just-thought.html' title='Just a thought'/><author><name>Cummal Bane</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13074366409885058423</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_uFro3ZXR-uI/SLjgPv5K-ZI/AAAAAAAAAD0/9ozwDlF4HBg/S220/Pic_0011a.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1966733609602160769.post-1867077069019531709</id><published>2008-11-28T06:27:00.005Z</published><updated>2008-12-06T14:12:41.295Z</updated><title type='text'>Full circle</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: justify; font-family: arial;"&gt;Just a quick update on my dad.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It is strange, but as the Alzheimer's has worked its way though my dad and his personality, he has been regressing.  Mum would find the only way to deal with him was as a child - watching him all the time.  Then when he went into the home, he became like a young child.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now he has almost come full circle.  Mum saw him yesterday, and he was asleep.  "Sleeping like a baby" is a much used cliche, but according to my mum, that was how he was yesterday.  He was deeply asleep, not twitching or restless, but just fast asleep.  All his needs are the same as a baby needs - food, warmth and security.  These the home are providing.  His interactions with people are like a baby - touch is all that seems to get through.  He sometimes seems to be close to recognizing a face, but that is all.  It is as if he has gone through the storms of life, and the hurricane of Alzheimer's, and has reached calm still waters beyond.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And this is making me cry so I can't write any more&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1966733609602160769-1867077069019531709?l=cummal-bane.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cummal-bane.blogspot.com/feeds/1867077069019531709/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1966733609602160769&amp;postID=1867077069019531709' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1966733609602160769/posts/default/1867077069019531709'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1966733609602160769/posts/default/1867077069019531709'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cummal-bane.blogspot.com/2008/11/full-circle.html' title='Full circle'/><author><name>Cummal Bane</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13074366409885058423</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_uFro3ZXR-uI/SLjgPv5K-ZI/AAAAAAAAAD0/9ozwDlF4HBg/S220/Pic_0011a.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1966733609602160769.post-2082965972825459940</id><published>2008-11-21T06:42:00.002Z</published><updated>2008-11-24T06:52:07.245Z</updated><title type='text'>Anyone who had a heart...</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;...may be pleased to know that I do too.  And after a visit to the one stop heart clinic, I am reasonably confident that it is in good condition.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;This was a follow-up to the scare when I was in hospital last month.  I had had to cancel the first appointment I received as I was on nights, so this morning I went toddling off to the hospital.  The bad news is that I have put on a lot of weight since I started at the sxwitchboard (I expected to put some on, but not as much as I had!).  After weighing, I was then wired up to the ECG and given the treadmill test.  This involves walking on the treadmill until I reached '100%' of my heart rate (this is calculated as 220 beats per minute less 1 for each year of your age (work it out for yourselves, I can't be bothered to give you the answer)).  Anyway, the treadmill starts off really slowly, which is hard to get used to.  The pace increases, and it also simulates climbing a hill.  This suprised me - if I climb a hill I go &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic; font-family: arial;"&gt;slower&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt; as the hill gets steeper!  Oh well, what do I know?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;Anyway, I reached my 100%, and then they slow down the treadmill and monitor heart and blood pressure for 6 minutes.  The upshot is that there is no evidence of irregular beats or heart murmer, and no sign of heart disease.  It is almost certainly gastric reflux, so I keep taking the medicine for that.  As for the palpitations at night, they will have to be dealt with as I am having real problems getting to sleep.  So heigh-ho, back to the doctor again!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1966733609602160769-2082965972825459940?l=cummal-bane.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cummal-bane.blogspot.com/feeds/2082965972825459940/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1966733609602160769&amp;postID=2082965972825459940' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1966733609602160769/posts/default/2082965972825459940'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1966733609602160769/posts/default/2082965972825459940'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cummal-bane.blogspot.com/2008/11/anyone-who-had-heart.html' title='Anyone who had a heart...'/><author><name>Cummal Bane</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13074366409885058423</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_uFro3ZXR-uI/SLjgPv5K-ZI/AAAAAAAAAD0/9ozwDlF4HBg/S220/Pic_0011a.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1966733609602160769.post-9090418092111443005</id><published>2008-11-19T20:32:00.003Z</published><updated>2008-11-19T20:45:52.964Z</updated><title type='text'>Waiting...</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;Yes we keep waiting...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;Dad is in hospital again.  He was taken in on Monday, with problems swallowing.  At first we thought it was an infection in his throat, which worried us as he has never had any problems there.  When he got to hospital, they found he had a urinary infection (again!), probably caused by the catheter.  They have treated that, and he has been able to eat something (which he had not been doing), so maybe it was just that the infection put him off his food.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;Mum went to see him tonight.  My sister-in-law went with her, and she was able to get some sort of a reaction.  She held his hand, and he did keep touching her.  It seems that touch is the only way to have any connection to him.  And how can we know what he feels?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;Does God understand Alzheimer's?  Am I going to be the next one to catch it (after his mother and him)?  It does scare me.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1966733609602160769-9090418092111443005?l=cummal-bane.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cummal-bane.blogspot.com/feeds/9090418092111443005/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1966733609602160769&amp;postID=9090418092111443005' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1966733609602160769/posts/default/9090418092111443005'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1966733609602160769/posts/default/9090418092111443005'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cummal-bane.blogspot.com/2008/11/waiting.html' title='Waiting...'/><author><name>Cummal Bane</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13074366409885058423</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_uFro3ZXR-uI/SLjgPv5K-ZI/AAAAAAAAAD0/9ozwDlF4HBg/S220/Pic_0011a.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1966733609602160769.post-4735542050226135868</id><published>2008-11-15T11:09:00.000Z</published><updated>2008-11-17T11:15:38.494Z</updated><title type='text'>All I need to know about life...</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="font-family: arial; text-align: justify;"&gt;I learned from my cat.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;ul style="text-align: justify; font-family: arial;"&gt;&lt;li&gt;Life is hard, then you nap&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Curiousity never killed anything except maybe a few hours&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;When in doubt, cop an attitude&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Variety is the spice of life: one day ignore people, the next day annoy them&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Climb your way to the top - that's why the drapes are there&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Never sleep alone when you can sleep on someone's face&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Find your place in the nsun - especially if it happens to be on that nice pile of warm clean laundry&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Make your mark in the world - or at least spray in each corner&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;When eating out, think nothing of sending your meal back twenty or thirty times&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;If you are not receieving enough attention, try knocking over several expensive antique lamps&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Always give generously - a small bird or rodent left on the bed tells them "I care."&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ul&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1966733609602160769-4735542050226135868?l=cummal-bane.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cummal-bane.blogspot.com/feeds/4735542050226135868/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1966733609602160769&amp;postID=4735542050226135868' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1966733609602160769/posts/default/4735542050226135868'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1966733609602160769/posts/default/4735542050226135868'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cummal-bane.blogspot.com/2008/11/all-i-need-to-know-about-life.html' title='All I need to know about life...'/><author><name>Cummal Bane</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13074366409885058423</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_uFro3ZXR-uI/SLjgPv5K-ZI/AAAAAAAAAD0/9ozwDlF4HBg/S220/Pic_0011a.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1966733609602160769.post-2197955822433216270</id><published>2008-11-07T22:37:00.003Z</published><updated>2008-11-07T22:46:47.794Z</updated><title type='text'>F-f-f-f-f-Friday</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: justify; font-family: arial;"&gt;Yes - it is Friday.  The end of the working week (I wish!)  I am on nights, so the end of my working week would normally be 8am Monday morning.  However, since I started this set of nights early i am also finishing it early, and am done at 8am Sunday.  Then a nice few days off until Thursday evening at 4.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Night shift.  Most people at work say they hate it.  I really don't mind it that much.  Yes it is inconvenient in that you lose all the day (and it is strange going to bed as it is getting light and waking up as it is getting dark), but I do like it.  Maybe because I live on my own, I am used to keeping myself occupied.  I can read or knit or sew - there is the radio or TV for company - and the kettle is only a few steps away.  What more could you want?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1966733609602160769-2197955822433216270?l=cummal-bane.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cummal-bane.blogspot.com/feeds/2197955822433216270/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1966733609602160769&amp;postID=2197955822433216270' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1966733609602160769/posts/default/2197955822433216270'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1966733609602160769/posts/default/2197955822433216270'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cummal-bane.blogspot.com/2008/11/f-f-f-f-f-friday.html' title='F-f-f-f-f-Friday'/><author><name>Cummal Bane</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13074366409885058423</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_uFro3ZXR-uI/SLjgPv5K-ZI/AAAAAAAAAD0/9ozwDlF4HBg/S220/Pic_0011a.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1966733609602160769.post-6995957718504744477</id><published>2008-10-31T20:13:00.003Z</published><updated>2008-10-31T20:41:29.590Z</updated><title type='text'>Getting heated to keep cool</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: justify; font-family: arial;"&gt;Oh, the joys of owning appliances.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;6 weeks ago, I took delivery of a nice shiny new fridge/freezer.  It did everything I wanted it to (kept the milk cold and froze the apples I put in it).  This morning, I came downstairs, opened the door and the little light did not come on.  FIrst thought was that the sockets had tripped out, so I checked the box and everything was fine.  Next thought was that the fuse or the socket were faulty - but I tested them and they passed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Soooooooooooooo - off to work and call the company I got the fridge from.  To save them from embarrassment, I will call them by the acronym MEA.  I finally managed to get appliance repairs on the phone, and they said they would go and look at it in the afternoon.  Then I had to find someone who would house-sit until they had gone.  Thank goodness for my friend Dot - she rushed her morning and house-sat from 1 until 4 - she is a good friend!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So eventually he turned up and looked at the appliance.  I then got a call, the gist of which was that it needed a new part, and would be fixed in the middle of next week.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As you can imagine, I was not prepared to accept that!  I rang the appliance repair centre, and got no reply.  Eventually, I got the appliance repairs manager - someone who understood that I could not live without a fridge for nearly a week.  He promised to arrange a replacement.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So then it was contact with the showroom, who did not have another of the one I had.  They instead offered me a bigger one.  And not only was it bigger but cheaper too, so I asked if they would reverse the doors for me (which they agreed to).  Itr was only after they agreed that they checked the original purchase and found it was a manager's special!  However, they had agreed so that was that.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now I just have to replace the lost food.  Let me think how many lots of smoked salmon do I have in there, I wonder...?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1966733609602160769-6995957718504744477?l=cummal-bane.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cummal-bane.blogspot.com/feeds/6995957718504744477/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1966733609602160769&amp;postID=6995957718504744477' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1966733609602160769/posts/default/6995957718504744477'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1966733609602160769/posts/default/6995957718504744477'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cummal-bane.blogspot.com/2008/10/getting-heated-to-keep-cool.html' title='Getting heated to keep cool'/><author><name>Cummal Bane</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13074366409885058423</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_uFro3ZXR-uI/SLjgPv5K-ZI/AAAAAAAAAD0/9ozwDlF4HBg/S220/Pic_0011a.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1966733609602160769.post-1723677240195989036</id><published>2008-10-26T20:48:00.003Z</published><updated>2008-10-26T21:08:15.701Z</updated><title type='text'>Incoming clouds</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: justify; font-family: arial;"&gt;I am sure you have all seen it.  You stand somewhere, the sky is blue, the sun is out and all seems peaceful and safe.  Then, from almost nowhere, the clouds come in, and before long, you are surrounded by heavy clouds.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I get that happening now.  I was in one of my favourite places and times tonight - evening service at St Luke's, Baldwin.  From going to the service in a positive mood, the clouds came and I was crying in my pew.  I didn't go up for Communion, I didn't sing the last hymn, I didn't take part in any of the last third of the service - I just sat and cried.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Afterwards, the vicar and aa gentleman from the pew behind came and talked to me - which meant I could at least drive home.  Trying to explain what it I am going through to someone who has not been through something similar feels like trying to describe green to someone born blind.  The only way I could put it is that when the clouds come in, it is immobilizing.  The fears, doubts and above all, the dragging feeling that adds weights to your limbs and your thoughts - to understand them needs a common frame of reference, which may people just don't have.  It is not a lack of desire to understand; rather it is an inability to comprehend.  The upshot of this incomprehension is an isolation - unable to break out and unable to explain to others how to break in.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I consider myself now disabled.  Not to a great extent - but this is a disability that is affecting my life.  And the effects are deeper than I thought.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I close with this thought from a user of mental health services.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;p  style="text-align: justify;font-family:arial;" class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:12;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic; font-family: arial;"&gt;“Mental illness is when the pain, distress and suffering inside your head and body is too much to bear and even the simple things in life prove too much.”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“People with Mental illness are viewed as weak by society. However, if society knew the pain, emotions, feelings and hurt these people are living with constantly, then they would in fact be viewed as the strongest people in society.”&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1966733609602160769-1723677240195989036?l=cummal-bane.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cummal-bane.blogspot.com/feeds/1723677240195989036/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1966733609602160769&amp;postID=1723677240195989036' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1966733609602160769/posts/default/1723677240195989036'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1966733609602160769/posts/default/1723677240195989036'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cummal-bane.blogspot.com/2008/10/incoming-clouds.html' title='Incoming clouds'/><author><name>Cummal Bane</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13074366409885058423</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_uFro3ZXR-uI/SLjgPv5K-ZI/AAAAAAAAAD0/9ozwDlF4HBg/S220/Pic_0011a.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1966733609602160769.post-1558935970482615613</id><published>2008-10-22T10:45:00.003+01:00</published><updated>2008-10-24T19:12:03.596+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Digging myself out</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: justify; font-family: arial;"&gt;I just read the last post - you can change the first line about the meds!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I reread the side-effects - one of them is depression, and boy have I had it.  It got to the point that yesterday, I could not face going into work.  Thank goodness for an understanding and supportive management!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I spoke to them at length.  The upshot was not to come in, but to see my doctor.  I managed to get an emergency appointment (a minor miracle in itself!), and discussed it with the doctor.  I was in such a state that I needed someone else to tell me what to do - I seemed to have lost my ability to make decisions.  Anyway, as a result oif the visit to the doctor, I am on different medication.  I also managed to get a short course of sleeping tablets to help me get some sleep (4 hours a night is just not enough!) - I took the dose last night and slept for 9 hours.  I didn't even hear my phone going off even though it was right next to my ear.  I feel a bit more positive this morning, so I will see how I can build on this.  I still feel shaky and agitated, but I hope that is just the old meds working themselves out of my system.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I will keep you posted.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;PS - M from London - thank you for the wool The colours are wonderful!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1966733609602160769-1558935970482615613?l=cummal-bane.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cummal-bane.blogspot.com/feeds/1558935970482615613/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1966733609602160769&amp;postID=1558935970482615613' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1966733609602160769/posts/default/1558935970482615613'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1966733609602160769/posts/default/1558935970482615613'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cummal-bane.blogspot.com/2008/10/digging-myself-out.html' title='Digging myself out'/><author><name>Cummal Bane</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13074366409885058423</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_uFro3ZXR-uI/SLjgPv5K-ZI/AAAAAAAAAD0/9ozwDlF4HBg/S220/Pic_0011a.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1966733609602160769.post-5444284911751989449</id><published>2008-10-16T09:09:00.003+01:00</published><updated>2008-10-16T09:36:57.687+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Picking up the pieces</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: justify; font-family: arial;"&gt;I am still here.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The meds are working (mostly).  I am still getting some pain, especially at night, but it is not as bad as it was before.  I am going back to work this afternoon - starting the 4 to midnight shift.  I have been in close touch with the manager, and she was saying that unless I feel up to it, I should not go back to work (her words were I would get a slap if I did!)  However. my feeling is that I am not going to get any better at home - I would be better at work and with people rather than sitting at home brooding.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;One side-effect of the meds is that I have a disinterest in food.  Yesterday, I had a banana for breakfast, a couple of sandwiches for lunch, and then a small helping of onion, beans and bacon at about 9pm.  I have not yet eaten anything today, I may have some fruit in a bit.  I will take my sandwiches as usual to work, and see how I feel.  I will keep you all posted.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1966733609602160769-5444284911751989449?l=cummal-bane.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cummal-bane.blogspot.com/feeds/5444284911751989449/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1966733609602160769&amp;postID=5444284911751989449' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1966733609602160769/posts/default/5444284911751989449'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1966733609602160769/posts/default/5444284911751989449'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cummal-bane.blogspot.com/2008/10/picking-up-pieces.html' title='Picking up the pieces'/><author><name>Cummal Bane</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13074366409885058423</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_uFro3ZXR-uI/SLjgPv5K-ZI/AAAAAAAAAD0/9ozwDlF4HBg/S220/Pic_0011a.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1966733609602160769.post-6588132134352035660</id><published>2008-10-10T12:27:00.005+01:00</published><updated>2008-10-12T21:24:54.219+01:00</updated><title type='text'>The heart of the matter</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: justify; font-family: arial;"&gt;How did a simple trip to the doctor turn out like it did?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have been having chest pains off and on for about 3 weeks.  While I was away, I had one night that was really bad, so rang the doctor to get an appointment.  I had the appoinyment on Wednesday morning, just after finishing the night shift.He examined me, and sent me back to the hospital for a chest Xray and an ECG, as well as blood tests.  He also gave me a couple of squirts from a spray he carries to see if it would ease my chest.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So back to the hospital I went.  Half way there, the pains in my chest got really bad, so I just put my foot down to get there as soon as possible.  When I got there it has eased slightly, so I went for the Xray first.  Then I went for the ECG.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was still having pains in my chest after the spray.  I told them that my chest was hurting, so guess what?  Thwey gave me a couple more sqirts from the same spray!  And guess what happened half was through the ECG?  Yes - the pains came back and then all hell broke loose!  They were giving me oxygen, taking blood, and goodness knows what, and I was panicking which was making everything worse!  Then they started takiung me down to A&amp;amp;E, but half way there, someone came and told the porter that A&amp;amp;E would not take me, and I was wheeled back to the ECG room!  Then finally, I was taken to the Coronary Care Unit, where I was left hooked up for 4 hours while they made sure.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Finally, at about 2, I was wheeled down to a ward for overnight observation.  The tests all came back negative, and I had 2 different explanations of what might cause the pain.  One was that it was an infection of the muscles around my heart, the other was that it was a muscular-skeletal problem.  In was put in a medical and elderly ward - and the guy ion the enxt bed seemed tro spend all his time raving about how terrible the goveernment was and how badly the hospital was run.  I found out it eventually that it was because they would not do his washing for him!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Finally on Thursday morning, a consultant saw me.  He thinks I have a gastric problem, and I am on medication for a month to see if that works.  I finally got out at 1 on Thursday.  I was still wearing the uniform that I had sone the night shift in - it looked like it had been slept in (because it had been).  I worked out that between Monday morning and Thursday afternoon I had had about 12 hours sleep.  As a result, I was worn out, and was given a lift home.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1966733609602160769-6588132134352035660?l=cummal-bane.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cummal-bane.blogspot.com/feeds/6588132134352035660/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1966733609602160769&amp;postID=6588132134352035660' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1966733609602160769/posts/default/6588132134352035660'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1966733609602160769/posts/default/6588132134352035660'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cummal-bane.blogspot.com/2008/10/heart-of-matter.html' title='The heart of the matter'/><author><name>Cummal Bane</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13074366409885058423</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_uFro3ZXR-uI/SLjgPv5K-ZI/AAAAAAAAAD0/9ozwDlF4HBg/S220/Pic_0011a.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1966733609602160769.post-4872164540523733878</id><published>2008-10-09T20:52:00.002+01:00</published><updated>2008-10-09T20:54:57.219+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Things as a mum you don't want to hear</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: justify; font-family: arial;"&gt;The following was overheard.  The lady was telling a colleague about a telephone call with her son who has been at university for 2 weeks.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Hi mum, this is x."&lt;br /&gt;"Hi x, how are you doing?"&lt;br /&gt;"I'm ok mum - how are you?"&lt;br /&gt;"I'm fine."&lt;br /&gt;"Mum - what does herpes look like?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1966733609602160769-4872164540523733878?l=cummal-bane.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cummal-bane.blogspot.com/feeds/4872164540523733878/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1966733609602160769&amp;postID=4872164540523733878' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1966733609602160769/posts/default/4872164540523733878'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1966733609602160769/posts/default/4872164540523733878'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cummal-bane.blogspot.com/2008/10/things-as-mum-you-dont-want-to-hear.html' title='Things as a mum you don&apos;t want to hear'/><author><name>Cummal Bane</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13074366409885058423</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_uFro3ZXR-uI/SLjgPv5K-ZI/AAAAAAAAAD0/9ozwDlF4HBg/S220/Pic_0011a.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1966733609602160769.post-1071991416006137688</id><published>2008-10-05T10:44:00.002+01:00</published><updated>2008-10-05T10:56:16.374+01:00</updated><title type='text'>I am back</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: justify; font-family: arial;"&gt;I am back from my trip across.  It was good to see mum - though she has done something to her other knee and is finding walking really painful.  Even with the help of trips to the physio, and doing her exercises (suppsed to be good for sciatica so I may try them) she was still not her usual mobile self.  As a result, I spent a lot of my time there running errands for her and doing things she was having trouble doing herself.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;One thing I did make sure was that she got some decent meals.  Before I went, she mentioned on the phone that she was not eating properly, so I took charge of the cooking.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;ul&gt;&lt;li&gt;Monday - onion beans and bacon for lunch, cold meat mash and fresh veg for dinner&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Tuesday - lunch out&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Wednesday - corned beef cottage pie for dinner&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ul&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I came home on Thursday, but made sure there was enough cottage pie for her to have at least one more decent meal.  I was not going to let her go hungry!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I went to see dad.  It was horrible.  Apart from his body, there is nothing there that made him my father.  He is like a blank slate.  He is no longer confused as he was - he is just unresponsive to anything except the basic stimuli, such as being cold or hungry.  The afternoon after we went to visit, Social Services assessed him, and they do not know what is the matter either.  He is no longer showing signs of Alzheimer's; he is not showing signs of anything.  It was as if his mind has just given up trying to get through the fog.  So we wait to see what will happen.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The travelling itself as good.  My new car was fine - whether fighting through the traffic or coming up the motorway loaded with stuff I had sorted through.  The sailing over was a little bouncy - the worst part was ggetting off the boat onto the floating landing stage at Liverpool, as that was moving to a different rhythm from the boat!  Coming back, the forecast was bad but there was hardly any movement - I got lucky with the wind.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1966733609602160769-1071991416006137688?l=cummal-bane.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cummal-bane.blogspot.com/feeds/1071991416006137688/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1966733609602160769&amp;postID=1071991416006137688' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1966733609602160769/posts/default/1071991416006137688'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1966733609602160769/posts/default/1071991416006137688'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cummal-bane.blogspot.com/2008/10/i-am-back.html' title='I am back'/><author><name>Cummal Bane</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13074366409885058423</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_uFro3ZXR-uI/SLjgPv5K-ZI/AAAAAAAAAD0/9ozwDlF4HBg/S220/Pic_0011a.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1966733609602160769.post-5633202326305577323</id><published>2008-09-24T21:55:00.007+01:00</published><updated>2008-09-24T23:30:04.782+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Interview with the Vampire</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: justify; font-family: arial;"&gt;Yes - the vampires got me.  Before you start running over with stakes and holy water (you can bring the garlic - I love it!), the vampires is what I call the staff at Blood Donors.  So I am an armful down and taking it easy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dad is now out of hospital and in a nursing home.  Social Services are now questioning if he needs a nursing bed (this is important as if he does need one, then they will contribute towards his care).  This is despite him arriving on a stretcher and being unable to walk - the parsimony of local government!  Mum is going round and round in circles, so I hope I can slow her down a bit when I am over there.  She admitted on the phone that she is not cooking, so I am hoping a few days with me as officer i/c catering will help her.  My worries are now for her not him.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And the decision has been made - I think I am going to go and see him.  I am torn both ways - but I think I have to go and see.  Pray for me - this will be hard!  I am taking my black suit over to elave it there - I think it will be needed there soon.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What else is new?  Not a lot really.  I am between the evening and the day (shift).  The new car is going well (which is good as I am taking it away next week)  I found out that it was registered in the same town that I grew up in - talk about the circles of the world!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And for those of you who look at my webpage - I have added a bit of fanciness.  If you want to look, go &lt;a href="http://homepages.manx.net/nikwhite/"&gt;here&lt;/a&gt;, and click on the link to see what has been updated.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1966733609602160769-5633202326305577323?l=cummal-bane.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cummal-bane.blogspot.com/feeds/5633202326305577323/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1966733609602160769&amp;postID=5633202326305577323' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1966733609602160769/posts/default/5633202326305577323'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1966733609602160769/posts/default/5633202326305577323'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cummal-bane.blogspot.com/2008/09/interview-with-vampire.html' title='Interview with the Vampire'/><author><name>Cummal Bane</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13074366409885058423</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_uFro3ZXR-uI/SLjgPv5K-ZI/AAAAAAAAAD0/9ozwDlF4HBg/S220/Pic_0011a.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1966733609602160769.post-8117938472638767018</id><published>2008-09-13T21:36:00.002+01:00</published><updated>2008-09-13T22:34:58.980+01:00</updated><title type='text'>And now, the end is nigh...</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: justify; font-family: arial;"&gt;Dad is in hospital.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He was taken in last week.  All mum could tell me is that he had 'something nasty' inside.  It turns out that he has a bad infection, but they will not operate because he is so frail.  He is on antibiotics and a drip, ands spends most of his time asleep.  The latest reports from the hospital is that he poorly but comfortable.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My brother went to see him.  He was lying there - almost lifeless.  He does not respond and does not know anyone.  Mum said it was lamost like he has given up.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am on standby for a phone-call.  I will be over there as soon as it comes.  I asked if mum wanted me to go voer there, she said no.  I don't think I can face seeing him.  He would not know me - he does not know his wife.  I don;t want to see him lying there bewteen life and death.  He used to be such a dynamic person - taking life and making it fit around him.  I was never close to him but I admired him so much.  And to see him so helpless - I just could not face it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This is incoherent rambling - sorry.  I will delete it if you like.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1966733609602160769-8117938472638767018?l=cummal-bane.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cummal-bane.blogspot.com/feeds/8117938472638767018/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1966733609602160769&amp;postID=8117938472638767018' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1966733609602160769/posts/default/8117938472638767018'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1966733609602160769/posts/default/8117938472638767018'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cummal-bane.blogspot.com/2008/09/and-now-end-is-nigh.html' title='And now, the end is nigh...'/><author><name>Cummal Bane</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13074366409885058423</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_uFro3ZXR-uI/SLjgPv5K-ZI/AAAAAAAAAD0/9ozwDlF4HBg/S220/Pic_0011a.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1966733609602160769.post-3490344506911372158</id><published>2008-09-08T21:48:00.003+01:00</published><updated>2008-09-08T21:56:20.021+01:00</updated><title type='text'>The Most Expensive Lightbulb in the World?</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: justify; font-family: arial;"&gt;Well, maybe...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Driving back from St Luke's eysterday, I thought there was something wrong with the headlights on the car.  So, being the good motorist I am, I stopped to check, and sure enough, one of the bulbs was out.  At least the sidelight was still working, and so was main beam, but the one I use most had gone.  So I drove home in the gloom, hoping that there were no police around to stop me (and there weren't).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So off this morning into Douglas.  I knew of a car spares place in upper Douglas, so there I went.  Next door is a car showroom, so I had a quick glance through what was in the second-hand section.  There was nothing that really caught my eye, so I went in to have a skeet (skeet : &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;n&lt;/span&gt; a useful Manx word meaning either gossip (as in "what's the skeet?") or to have a look (as in "to have a skeet")).  The salesman tried to sell me a new car, but after a test drive over my usual; route, I was not sure if my internal organs were still in their proper places as the ride was so bumpy!  Imagine cycling over corrugated iron.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So I handed the keys back without too much regret, but there was a car that had just arrived, and was not even on the forecourt.  18 months old and only 6,000 miles on the clock.  A little bit more than I intended to pay and a little bit more powerful, but it was just what I was looking for.  So on Saturday, my poor faithful car goes away and I collect my new one.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh by the way - I didn't buy the headlight bulb!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1966733609602160769-3490344506911372158?l=cummal-bane.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cummal-bane.blogspot.com/feeds/3490344506911372158/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1966733609602160769&amp;postID=3490344506911372158' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1966733609602160769/posts/default/3490344506911372158'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1966733609602160769/posts/default/3490344506911372158'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cummal-bane.blogspot.com/2008/09/most-expensive-lightbulb-in-world.html' title='The Most Expensive Lightbulb in the World?'/><author><name>Cummal Bane</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13074366409885058423</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_uFro3ZXR-uI/SLjgPv5K-ZI/AAAAAAAAAD0/9ozwDlF4HBg/S220/Pic_0011a.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1966733609602160769.post-3409608448079499745</id><published>2008-08-30T06:35:00.003+01:00</published><updated>2008-09-01T10:10:31.388+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Driven to Distraction?</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: justify; font-family: arial;"&gt;Dad is going even further.  From being the driver for all the family (mum has a licence but has not driven for years), when he went to the hospital yesterday, he could not even remember how to sit in a car.  Mum sounded so worn out, even though the appointment was through in an hour.  We don't think anything registeresd with dad.  He was seeing an eye specialist, and one of the things they needed was a sight test.  Dad could not even remember what capital letters were!  Please don't let this go on much longer!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1966733609602160769-3409608448079499745?l=cummal-bane.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cummal-bane.blogspot.com/feeds/3409608448079499745/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1966733609602160769&amp;postID=3409608448079499745' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1966733609602160769/posts/default/3409608448079499745'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1966733609602160769/posts/default/3409608448079499745'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cummal-bane.blogspot.com/2008/08/driven-to-distraction.html' title='Driven to Distraction?'/><author><name>Cummal Bane</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13074366409885058423</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_uFro3ZXR-uI/SLjgPv5K-ZI/AAAAAAAAAD0/9ozwDlF4HBg/S220/Pic_0011a.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1966733609602160769.post-7458916691932442076</id><published>2008-08-26T08:07:00.002+01:00</published><updated>2008-08-26T08:26:39.145+01:00</updated><title type='text'>A daughter's success</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;font-family:arial;" &gt;My daughter's results - 4 As, 4 bs and 2 Cs.  Roll on the 6th form!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;font-family:arial;" &gt;And for those who have missed me - thank you.  I have not been in a blogging mood lately.  So much has been happening around my life.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;font-family:arial;" &gt;As you can see, my daughter got good results in her GCSEs.  Academically, people might say she did not do as well as me.  I say she has got good, solid results, (A in English, B in Maths) and is going on to the 6th form.  When I passed my exams, I had not had a elading role in a pantomime, or joined a street theatre group, nor did I have a girlfriend (boyfriend in her case), so she is a much more rounded person that I was (or may ever be!)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;font-family:arial;" &gt;Dad is going downhill so fast.  Mum attended a review meeting last week, and the upshot is that the care home he is in now can no longer provide the care he needs.  It is a pity, since he was settled there, and the staff thought he was a character.  However, over the last few weeks, he has become very aggressive, and they are worried that he could grab another resident and hurt them without meaning to.  He is having problems with his catheter, and keeps undressing at all times of the day.  So the upshot is that mum, my brother and his wife are going to start searching for a nursing home that can take him.  I hope this does not go on too long.  It is still wearing mum out, and he has no life at all - just an existence.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;font-family:arial;" &gt;So now you know why I have not been around so much.  I will try to do better...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1966733609602160769-7458916691932442076?l=cummal-bane.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cummal-bane.blogspot.com/feeds/7458916691932442076/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1966733609602160769&amp;postID=7458916691932442076' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1966733609602160769/posts/default/7458916691932442076'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1966733609602160769/posts/default/7458916691932442076'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cummal-bane.blogspot.com/2008/08/daughters-success.html' title='A daughter&apos;s success'/><author><name>Cummal Bane</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13074366409885058423</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_uFro3ZXR-uI/SLjgPv5K-ZI/AAAAAAAAAD0/9ozwDlF4HBg/S220/Pic_0011a.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1966733609602160769.post-528060032752698524</id><published>2008-08-08T08:29:00.004+01:00</published><updated>2008-08-26T08:07:42.035+01:00</updated><title type='text'>I am still here...</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: justify; font-family: arial;"&gt;Yes I know it has been a long time.  In that time my contract came through, so I am now permanent.  The only difference that makes is that now I can have paid holidays (and boy, am I ready for them!)  My shifts are the same, and I have just finished a full set, and am restarting evenings tonight (you know what I mean).  At 4pm, I will make my merry way into work, and do the first of 7 evenings.  And then...holiday!  I have taken my week of nights off, so that 7 days holiday gives me 12 days off!  I hope to do some decorating in that time (I have doors that need painting) but they need good weather as I have to take them off to paint them.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Talking of the weather, what happened to summer?  If anyone has seen it, can we have it back please?  The weather here has been pretty awful overe the last couple of weeks - rain, drizzle and low cloud.  Today is a better day (so my washing is out) and then rain tomorrow.  Though the weather man today said summer has been wetter than usual - the third wettest on record.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1966733609602160769-528060032752698524?l=cummal-bane.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cummal-bane.blogspot.com/feeds/528060032752698524/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1966733609602160769&amp;postID=528060032752698524' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1966733609602160769/posts/default/528060032752698524'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1966733609602160769/posts/default/528060032752698524'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cummal-bane.blogspot.com/2008/08/i-am-still-here.html' title='I am still here...'/><author><name>Cummal Bane</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13074366409885058423</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_uFro3ZXR-uI/SLjgPv5K-ZI/AAAAAAAAAD0/9ozwDlF4HBg/S220/Pic_0011a.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1966733609602160769.post-7765765888440050764</id><published>2008-07-01T08:36:00.002+01:00</published><updated>2008-07-01T09:10:56.189+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Tempus fugit</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;Yes time flies.  I can hardly belive that it has been a month since I last wrote anything here!  And more to the point, that nothing exciting has happened in that month.  Isn't life fun?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;I am still working.  I have just finished a week of nights, and am now on my 'week-end'.  &amp;amp; days of nights (huh?) and then 2 days off.  If it wasn;t for covering Wednesdays I would have 3 days off, but Wednesday is the swap day for the day shift and I cover it.  The last night shifts marked a landmark for me, as they included my first ever shift on my own.  I knew I was doing Friday alone as I was covering for leave, and that was ok as I took in some CDs to listen to.  When I got in for Sunday though, my partner was sick so I ahd to grab what I had in the car to keep me amused!  Friday was quiet, but Sunday I had an emergency call and a gas alarm.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;I am still waiting for my contract to come through.  I was hoping to ehar something last week but with being on nights and so on, I was not able to find anything out.  Maybe I will know something this week.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;On a sad note, my bed disintegrated this weekend (not with me in it you will be glad to hear!)  The footboard had been coming apart for a while but finally it gave up the ghost.  My new one arrives today!!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1966733609602160769-7765765888440050764?l=cummal-bane.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cummal-bane.blogspot.com/feeds/7765765888440050764/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1966733609602160769&amp;postID=7765765888440050764' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1966733609602160769/posts/default/7765765888440050764'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1966733609602160769/posts/default/7765765888440050764'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cummal-bane.blogspot.com/2008/07/tempus-fugit.html' title='Tempus fugit'/><author><name>Cummal Bane</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13074366409885058423</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_uFro3ZXR-uI/SLjgPv5K-ZI/AAAAAAAAAD0/9ozwDlF4HBg/S220/Pic_0011a.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1966733609602160769.post-7663266924352100107</id><published>2008-06-04T22:48:00.003+01:00</published><updated>2008-06-04T22:58:20.366+01:00</updated><title type='text'>I remember the nights...</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;That is the first line of a song by Lindisfarne.  And I do remember the nights - right now I remember the nights when I could sleep in my own bed through the hours of darkness.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Yes I am working night shift.  In some ways it is easier than I thought - in others it is harder.  There are very few calls, and the other bits and pieces that have to be done are fairly easy.  The main part of the shift is done by soon after 1, so then it is a battle with the nodding donkey and Mr Yawnie!  We have the radio, and I take in something to read, but even so...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;The biggest thing is to be alert if the emergency phone rings.  That is the number called if there is an emergency, such as a heart attack.  When that phone rings, everything is dropped.  it is set to top volume, and when it goes off, your heart leaps into your mouth!  You have to find out where the emergency is and what sort, so that the right medical staff can be sent to the right location, so it really is a case of someone's life in your hands.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Ok, time to go and face another shift.  Guess what the song is that I am listening to now?  Another appropriate one - Daysleeper by REM!!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1966733609602160769-7663266924352100107?l=cummal-bane.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cummal-bane.blogspot.com/feeds/7663266924352100107/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1966733609602160769&amp;postID=7663266924352100107' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1966733609602160769/posts/default/7663266924352100107'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1966733609602160769/posts/default/7663266924352100107'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cummal-bane.blogspot.com/2008/06/i-rememebr-nights.html' title='I remember the nights...'/><author><name>Cummal Bane</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13074366409885058423</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_uFro3ZXR-uI/SLjgPv5K-ZI/AAAAAAAAAD0/9ozwDlF4HBg/S220/Pic_0011a.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1966733609602160769.post-3271345239513888122</id><published>2008-06-01T07:05:00.004+01:00</published><updated>2008-06-01T07:28:24.040+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Work continues</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;"How is the new job going?" I hear you cry.  Well I don't unless you shout it very loudly, but you know what I mean.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;I went there for a 3 month trial.  I must be doing something right, because after 3 1/2 &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; font-family: arial;"&gt;weeks&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt; I was offered a permanent position!!  So I must be doing something right.  Bear in mind that the offer was made before I had done any shifts except days, so they must have confidence in me.  I felt that was a real boost to me.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;So now I have (another) application form to complete.  I thought my days of completing application forms were over for a while, but here is hoping that this one will be the last.  It will be something to do on my night shift.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;Oh yes, the night shift.  Tonight (Sunday) is the first of 7 that I am doing.  I start at midnight and work through until 8.  The lady I am working with this week is the same one who introduced me to the evening shifts last week.  The evening shifts are when the paperwork is done, so I was being introduced to that.  At the same time, I was passing on some basic hints about Excel to her, so it was a 2-way process.  She has also been giving me advice about the night shift, like try to get some sleep in the evening and bring a couple of slices of bread in to make toast in the morning.  We will see how it goes....&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1966733609602160769-3271345239513888122?l=cummal-bane.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cummal-bane.blogspot.com/feeds/3271345239513888122/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1966733609602160769&amp;postID=3271345239513888122' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1966733609602160769/posts/default/3271345239513888122'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1966733609602160769/posts/default/3271345239513888122'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cummal-bane.blogspot.com/2008/06/work-continues.html' title='Work continues'/><author><name>Cummal Bane</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13074366409885058423</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_uFro3ZXR-uI/SLjgPv5K-ZI/AAAAAAAAAD0/9ozwDlF4HBg/S220/Pic_0011a.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1966733609602160769.post-4476582123381361176</id><published>2008-05-18T20:58:00.002+01:00</published><updated>2008-06-01T07:31:11.287+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Joke</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;A man and his girlfriend are walking down the street and pass a jewellers.  She sees a ring in the window and says "I'd love to have that".&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;"Ok" he says, takes a brick out of his pocket, throws it through the window, gets the ring and gives it to her. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;A bit further down they pass a shoeshop and she seems some shjoes "I'd love them" she says.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;"Ok" he says, takes a brick out of his pocket, throws it through the window, gets the shoes and gives them to her. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;A bit further she sees a handbag.  "I'd love that" she says.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;"Hang on," he says, "do you think I am made of bricks?"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1966733609602160769-4476582123381361176?l=cummal-bane.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cummal-bane.blogspot.com/feeds/4476582123381361176/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1966733609602160769&amp;postID=4476582123381361176' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1966733609602160769/posts/default/4476582123381361176'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1966733609602160769/posts/default/4476582123381361176'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cummal-bane.blogspot.com/2008/05/joke.html' title='Joke'/><author><name>Cummal Bane</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13074366409885058423</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_uFro3ZXR-uI/SLjgPv5K-ZI/AAAAAAAAAD0/9ozwDlF4HBg/S220/Pic_0011a.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1966733609602160769.post-8414559116013452892</id><published>2008-05-11T07:20:00.008+01:00</published><updated>2008-05-16T07:23:49.903+01:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: justify; font-family: arial;"&gt;Welcome to the Isle of Man - the road racing capital of the world!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So runs the slogan, and people think of the TT when they think of motorsport on the Isle of Man.  However, as well as the 2 wheel variety (TT, Manx Grand Prix, Southern 100 and so on), the island also hosts rounds of the British rally championships, as the laws here allow roads to be closed which is not so easy in the UK.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And this is my interest.  I have never been that entranced with the bikes, for a couple of reasons I think.  I think part of it is the commitment to five up 2 weeks to marshall the main events, and also when a bike accident happens, it gets very messy.  At least rally competitors have some protection.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_uFro3ZXR-uI/SCaVyJUvEYI/AAAAAAAAADQ/68WxKCJWoJM/s1600-h/Image013.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_uFro3ZXR-uI/SCaVyJUvEYI/AAAAAAAAADQ/68WxKCJWoJM/s320/Image013.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5199007508574704002" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;It was a good day for incidents.  The stage I was on was stopped a couple of times, and by the end of the day the field was so split up that almost noone knew where the next car would be (or when for that matter!)  On the stage that i was on, a car went backwards off the road, leaving the driver with a broken shoulder and a broken hand.  The stage after mine included a sharp right then a left hand hairpin, to get round a deep valley.  The road went round it but one car didn't.  This led to the cancelling of the stage.  By the end of the day I don't think anyone really knew who was where.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The main thing is that everyone had a fun day and noone was badly hurt.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1966733609602160769-8414559116013452892?l=cummal-bane.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cummal-bane.blogspot.com/feeds/8414559116013452892/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1966733609602160769&amp;postID=8414559116013452892' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1966733609602160769/posts/default/8414559116013452892'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1966733609602160769/posts/default/8414559116013452892'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cummal-bane.blogspot.com/2008/05/welcome-to-isle-of-man-road-racing.html' title=''/><author><name>Cummal Bane</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13074366409885058423</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_uFro3ZXR-uI/SLjgPv5K-ZI/AAAAAAAAAD0/9ozwDlF4HBg/S220/Pic_0011a.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_uFro3ZXR-uI/SCaVyJUvEYI/AAAAAAAAADQ/68WxKCJWoJM/s72-c/Image013.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1966733609602160769.post-1561814737003485696</id><published>2008-05-01T06:28:00.004+01:00</published><updated>2008-05-01T06:35:32.178+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Work work work</title><content type='html'>&lt;div  style="text-align: justify;font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Knowledge = power = energy = matter = mass; a good bookshop is just a genteel black hole that knows how to read (&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Terry Pratchett&lt;/span&gt;)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So I started my new job on Monday.  I am working with some nice people, though they are used to not having any men in there (there are only 2 of us!)  I was told that I would be listening to calls on the first few days, and then starting to pick them up.  The aim was for me to be confident with calls and pagers withing 3 months, whioch seemed a reasonable timescale.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I started on calls on Tuesday, and yesterday was introduced to pagers.  With a bit of practice I should have basic bleeps (pagers) mastered by the end of the week.  Now is that good or bad?  Will I get bored when there is no more to learn?  I hope not, as there is the variety of the calls that we get, as well as learning where to find things.  I was told there will be some reception duties as well so we shall see how that goes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The main thing is that I am enjoying it!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1966733609602160769-1561814737003485696?l=cummal-bane.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cummal-bane.blogspot.com/feeds/1561814737003485696/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1966733609602160769&amp;postID=1561814737003485696' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1966733609602160769/posts/default/1561814737003485696'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1966733609602160769/posts/default/1561814737003485696'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cummal-bane.blogspot.com/2008/05/knowledge-power-energy-matter-mass-good.html' title='Work work work'/><author><name>Cummal Bane</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13074366409885058423</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_uFro3ZXR-uI/SLjgPv5K-ZI/AAAAAAAAAD0/9ozwDlF4HBg/S220/Pic_0011a.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1966733609602160769.post-5650722845023430814</id><published>2008-04-21T21:50:00.004+01:00</published><updated>2008-04-21T22:05:24.294+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Moving on</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: justify; font-family: arial;"&gt;And so it goes on...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dad is currently in hospital, after having an operation.  We thought it would be a long wait, but a cancellation allowed them to bring him forward to today.  At the moment he is still asleep, but the initial reports are that the operation was a success.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And my next step is being taken.  My notice has been handed in, and now I am working out the time until I leave (6pm Saturday).  The leaving do is on Friday, so I may have to go into work with a hangover on Saturday - one must keep up appearances, mustn't one?  I have managed to get a a few things organized today, and with tomorrow being my last day off in the week for now, I am getting the boiler serviced and an electrician is coming round to give me a quote for some work I want to get done (outside lights in the back yard).  I also want to make a marmalade cake and go and buy some bread.  So I will have a busy morning, but I hope I can sew in the afternoon.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1966733609602160769-5650722845023430814?l=cummal-bane.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cummal-bane.blogspot.com/feeds/5650722845023430814/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1966733609602160769&amp;postID=5650722845023430814' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1966733609602160769/posts/default/5650722845023430814'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1966733609602160769/posts/default/5650722845023430814'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cummal-bane.blogspot.com/2008/04/moving-on.html' title='Moving on'/><author><name>Cummal Bane</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13074366409885058423</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_uFro3ZXR-uI/SLjgPv5K-ZI/AAAAAAAAAD0/9ozwDlF4HBg/S220/Pic_0011a.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1966733609602160769.post-4340725998276207235</id><published>2008-04-14T21:23:00.003+01:00</published><updated>2008-04-14T21:54:42.871+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Settled</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: justify; font-family: arial;"&gt;It sounds like the matter is settled.  Dad is going to be in full time residential care from Wednesday, and it is almost certain that he will be in the place he is in now.  This is really good news, as according to mum, he is settled there.  He is quite happy to talk to his new friends in the lounge, though it does mean that he does not really welcome visitors, which is hard on mum particularly.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Other than that, though, it has made such a difference to mum.  She is picking up her sewing again, and is able to go out to WI.  And the fact that she is happier is making me much easier in my mind, and I am sure it is the same for the rest of the family.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Another thing is settled as well.  I am going to move on from my current job.  I have given them 18 months, and it has done what it needed to do.  I am back on my feet, and have regained some of my confidence.  It has also revealed some talents and skills I did not know I had, such as dealing with people.  However, there are parts of it that I don't like - such as the way the staff are treated.  So I will move on - I have a 3 month trial of a post at the hospital, and if that works out then I will be working there full time permanently.  More of that anon...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1966733609602160769-4340725998276207235?l=cummal-bane.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cummal-bane.blogspot.com/feeds/4340725998276207235/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1966733609602160769&amp;postID=4340725998276207235' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1966733609602160769/posts/default/4340725998276207235'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1966733609602160769/posts/default/4340725998276207235'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cummal-bane.blogspot.com/2008/04/setlled.html' title='Settled'/><author><name>Cummal Bane</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13074366409885058423</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_uFro3ZXR-uI/SLjgPv5K-ZI/AAAAAAAAAD0/9ozwDlF4HBg/S220/Pic_0011a.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1966733609602160769.post-3711556073823641814</id><published>2008-04-06T21:13:00.003+01:00</published><updated>2008-04-06T21:26:54.547+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Rumours, rumours</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: justify; font-family: arial;"&gt;I hope that what mum heard will be confirmed this week.  Dad is still in respite, but according to various sources (as yet unconfirmed), dad will be offered a permanent place where he is now, quite possibly staying in the same room.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If that turns out to be true, then it will be a real answer to prayer.  Mum went to visit him last week.  The room he is in is light, with plenty of space for his own things (furniture, pictures, etc), and the residents are encouraged to bring their own items with them.  There is a large window at one side, with both opening panes and a door into the garden outside, so dad will have be able to get out in the fresh air if he wants to.  All in all, it sounds like a good place for him to be.  Mum said that one of the staff spent some time with him, looking at a book he had taken in, and reported that it was 'nice to talk to someone with a bit of class'.  So that is something that has not changed!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But according to mum, he is getting worse.  He had no idea who mum was when she visited.  He could not relate to anyone in the family, although when Carol (my sister-in-law) went to visit, he told her that he had two sons who were going to come and take him home.  Carol had to explain that they could not come straight away - and anyway, home to him now is Birmingham where he grew up.  It is as if the whole of his married life and his family no longer appear in his memory - 49 years of married life has gone.  he also seems to have lost all idea of time and distance.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And as for mum - she sounds more cheerful now that the decision has been made.  She is now able to please herself, which I think is a great relief.  She spent some time tidying the front garden, which now looks very good she says.  I will go over when I can...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1966733609602160769-3711556073823641814?l=cummal-bane.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cummal-bane.blogspot.com/feeds/3711556073823641814/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1966733609602160769&amp;postID=3711556073823641814' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1966733609602160769/posts/default/3711556073823641814'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1966733609602160769/posts/default/3711556073823641814'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cummal-bane.blogspot.com/2008/04/rumours-rumours.html' title='Rumours, rumours'/><author><name>Cummal Bane</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13074366409885058423</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_uFro3ZXR-uI/SLjgPv5K-ZI/AAAAAAAAAD0/9ozwDlF4HBg/S220/Pic_0011a.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1966733609602160769.post-5828833471122701959</id><published>2008-03-31T05:51:00.005+01:00</published><updated>2008-04-01T06:40:11.416+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Its finally happened</title><content type='html'>&lt;div  style="text-align: justify;font-family:arial;"&gt;The decision has been made.  I think it was a case of bad news long expected - dreaded yet still a relief that you know.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What am I burbling about?  Well, dad has been in respite care for the last 12 days.  Mum has been so much more at ease while he was there.  I was worrying how she would cope when he came home (he was due home this Wednesday).  She could hardly cope when I was there, even with the sitter overnight and me trying to help all I could in the day.  I think we are all relieved that she has made the decision that she has.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now comes the easy part.  All we need to do now is find somewhere that can provide him the care he needs in an environment he will be happy in - a piece of cake.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Some additional news&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mum spoke to Social Services and he will not be coming home.  He has another 2 weeks of respite and in that time, they will try to find somewhere suitable that will take him.  So watch this space...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1966733609602160769-5828833471122701959?l=cummal-bane.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cummal-bane.blogspot.com/feeds/5828833471122701959/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1966733609602160769&amp;postID=5828833471122701959' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1966733609602160769/posts/default/5828833471122701959'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1966733609602160769/posts/default/5828833471122701959'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cummal-bane.blogspot.com/2008/03/its-finally-happened.html' title='Its finally happened'/><author><name>Cummal Bane</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13074366409885058423</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_uFro3ZXR-uI/SLjgPv5K-ZI/AAAAAAAAAD0/9ozwDlF4HBg/S220/Pic_0011a.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1966733609602160769.post-923483012035518338</id><published>2008-03-27T06:36:00.000Z</published><updated>2008-03-29T06:49:22.437Z</updated><title type='text'>Alien encounter</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: justify; font-family: arial;"&gt;Its eyes were the black bottomless holes of which nightmares are made.  The face was cruel, cold, unsmiling.  It betrayed no hint of humanity or brotherhood or compassion.  One sensed only a primitive basic sort of intelligence.  It spoke only in rhymes and the strange discourse that had been imprinted on the psyche.  And it smelt familiarly of the trough and of inbred violence.  Alien as they were to me, I had met this kind before and I knew what to say:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;"Surely I wasn't speeeding officer?"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1966733609602160769-923483012035518338?l=cummal-bane.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cummal-bane.blogspot.com/feeds/923483012035518338/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1966733609602160769&amp;postID=923483012035518338' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1966733609602160769/posts/default/923483012035518338'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1966733609602160769/posts/default/923483012035518338'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cummal-bane.blogspot.com/2008/03/alien-encounter.html' title='Alien encounter'/><author><name>Cummal Bane</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13074366409885058423</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_uFro3ZXR-uI/SLjgPv5K-ZI/AAAAAAAAAD0/9ozwDlF4HBg/S220/Pic_0011a.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1966733609602160769.post-3750379534339815026</id><published>2008-03-22T08:04:00.001Z</published><updated>2008-03-22T08:14:33.368Z</updated><title type='text'>What if...?</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;What if? What if? What if? What if?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;What if – I had taken another A level?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;Worked harder at school, gone to Oxbridge&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;Taken the academic route?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;What if – I had spent more time in my books,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;And less with my girlfriend?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;Should I have worked and studied more?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;What if – I had stayed in the UK&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;Rather than moving to the island?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;Would it be better to stay with what I knew&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;Rather than throwing it all in for something unknown?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;What if – I had worked harder at my marriage?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;Did I ask too much from her?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;Expect more than I should?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;What if – I hadn’t had problems at work?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;Stayed there and stuck it out&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;Sat there and taken it all?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;Stop.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;Turn the page.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;Close the book.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;I am here&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;This is where I am&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;And when I am&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;What if – the future is better than the past?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic; font-family: arial;font-size:85%;" &gt;Nik White&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1966733609602160769-3750379534339815026?l=cummal-bane.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cummal-bane.blogspot.com/feeds/3750379534339815026/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1966733609602160769&amp;postID=3750379534339815026' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1966733609602160769/posts/default/3750379534339815026'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1966733609602160769/posts/default/3750379534339815026'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cummal-bane.blogspot.com/2008/03/what-if.html' title='What if...?'/><author><name>Cummal Bane</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13074366409885058423</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_uFro3ZXR-uI/SLjgPv5K-ZI/AAAAAAAAAD0/9ozwDlF4HBg/S220/Pic_0011a.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1966733609602160769.post-977720168548699434</id><published>2008-03-20T22:23:00.004Z</published><updated>2008-03-21T07:06:29.307Z</updated><title type='text'>Christmas is really for the children</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Christmas is really&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;for the children.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Especially for children&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;who like animals, stables,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;stars and babies wrapped&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;in swaddling clothes.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Then there are wise men,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;kings in fine robes,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;humble shepherds and a&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;hint of rich perfume.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Easter is not really&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;for the children&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;unless accompanied by&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;a cream filled egg.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;It has whips, blood, nails,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;a spear and allegations&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;of body snatching.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;It involves politics, God&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;and the sins of the world.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;It is not good for people&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;of a nervous disposition.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;They would do better to&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;think on rabbits, chickens&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;and the first snowdrop&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;of spring.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Or they'd do better to&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;wait for a re-run of&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Christmas without asking&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;too many questions about&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;what Jesus did when he grew up&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;or whether there's any connection.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:arial;font-size:85%;"  &gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Steve Turner&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1966733609602160769-977720168548699434?l=cummal-bane.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cummal-bane.blogspot.com/feeds/977720168548699434/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1966733609602160769&amp;postID=977720168548699434' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1966733609602160769/posts/default/977720168548699434'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1966733609602160769/posts/default/977720168548699434'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cummal-bane.blogspot.com/2008/03/christmas-is-really-for-children.html' title='Christmas is really for the children'/><author><name>Cummal Bane</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13074366409885058423</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_uFro3ZXR-uI/SLjgPv5K-ZI/AAAAAAAAAD0/9ozwDlF4HBg/S220/Pic_0011a.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1966733609602160769.post-296273351920192770</id><published>2008-03-16T01:32:00.000Z</published><updated>2008-03-17T01:36:09.878Z</updated><title type='text'>Hold my hand Lord</title><content type='html'>&lt;div  style="text-align: justify;font-family:arial;"&gt;Hold my hand Lord&lt;br /&gt;Walk with me through the loneliness&lt;br /&gt;And the valley of my sorrow.&lt;br /&gt;Hold on to me when I am too afraid to think about tomorrow.&lt;br /&gt;Let me lean on you Lord&lt;br /&gt;When I'm too weary to go on.&lt;br /&gt;Hold my hand Lord through the night&lt;br /&gt;Until I see the light of dawn.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;font-size:85%;" &gt;Author unknown&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1966733609602160769-296273351920192770?l=cummal-bane.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cummal-bane.blogspot.com/feeds/296273351920192770/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1966733609602160769&amp;postID=296273351920192770' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1966733609602160769/posts/default/296273351920192770'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1966733609602160769/posts/default/296273351920192770'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cummal-bane.blogspot.com/2008/03/hold-my-hand-lord.html' title='Hold my hand Lord'/><author><name>Cummal Bane</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13074366409885058423</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_uFro3ZXR-uI/SLjgPv5K-ZI/AAAAAAAAAD0/9ozwDlF4HBg/S220/Pic_0011a.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1966733609602160769.post-1313660009289845122</id><published>2008-03-15T00:48:00.000Z</published><updated>2008-03-17T01:35:25.577Z</updated><title type='text'>Listen</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;When I ask you to listen to me&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;and you start giving advice&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;You have not done what I asked.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;When I ask you to listen to me&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;and you begin to tell me why I should not feel that way,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;you are trampling on my feelings.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;When I ask you to listen to me&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;and you feel you have to do something to solve my problems,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;you have failed me, strange as it may seem.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Listen!  All I asked was that you listen&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Not talk or do - just hear me&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;and I can do for myself;  I am not helpless&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;maybe discouraged and faltering, but not helpless.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;When you do something for me that I can and need to do for myself,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;you contribute to my fear and weakness.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;But when you accept the simple fact that I do feel what I feel,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;no matter how irrational, then I quit trying to convince you&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;and can get about the business of understanding what's behind this irrational feeling.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;And when that's clear, the answers are obvious, and I do not need advice.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Irrational feelings make sense when we understand what is behind them.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Perhaps that is why prayer works sometimes for some people,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;because God is mute and does not give advice, or try to fix things,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;"They" just listen and let you work it out for yourself.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;So please listen and just hear me&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;and if you want to talk, wait a minute for your turn;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;And I will listen to you.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;font-size:85%;" &gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Author unknown&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1966733609602160769-1313660009289845122?l=cummal-bane.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cummal-bane.blogspot.com/feeds/1313660009289845122/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1966733609602160769&amp;postID=1313660009289845122' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1966733609602160769/posts/default/1313660009289845122'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1966733609602160769/posts/default/1313660009289845122'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cummal-bane.blogspot.com/2008/03/listen.html' title='Listen'/><author><name>Cummal Bane</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13074366409885058423</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_uFro3ZXR-uI/SLjgPv5K-ZI/AAAAAAAAAD0/9ozwDlF4HBg/S220/Pic_0011a.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1966733609602160769.post-4315000637043441914</id><published>2008-03-14T20:19:00.006Z</published><updated>2008-03-14T20:36:07.078Z</updated><title type='text'>Am I a bad son?</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;I am just back from a week in the UK.  Leaving aside the rough crossing back on the overnight boat (previous boats canceled by the weather) next to a woman with some of the smelliest feet I have ever known (so no sleep)...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;I no longer have a father.  His body is there, but there is almost nothing left of the essence that made him what he was.  I was only just getting to know him properly, and now Mr. Alzheimer has snatched him away from me.  I would scream out that eternal cry - "It's not fair!", except that I don't remember it saying 'fair' on the description of life.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Alzheimer's is supposed to be a gradual disease.  I saw my dad decline so far in 6 days - never mind the change in the 6 weeks since I previously saw him.  From being a man who strode through life, he is now a shrunken shadow of himself - lost and confused.  I can't even write this without crying...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I don't think I will see my dad at home ever again...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1966733609602160769-4315000637043441914?l=cummal-bane.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cummal-bane.blogspot.com/feeds/4315000637043441914/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1966733609602160769&amp;postID=4315000637043441914' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1966733609602160769/posts/default/4315000637043441914'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1966733609602160769/posts/default/4315000637043441914'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cummal-bane.blogspot.com/2008/03/am-i-bad-son.html' title='Am I a bad son?'/><author><name>Cummal Bane</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13074366409885058423</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_uFro3ZXR-uI/SLjgPv5K-ZI/AAAAAAAAAD0/9ozwDlF4HBg/S220/Pic_0011a.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1966733609602160769.post-3979993142401810321</id><published>2008-02-25T08:56:00.002Z</published><updated>2008-02-25T09:05:45.397Z</updated><title type='text'>Sunset on the Brandywell road</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_uFro3ZXR-uI/R8KDIJQd90I/AAAAAAAAADA/-n-P23EvCQQ/s1600-h/Sign1.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_uFro3ZXR-uI/R8KDIJQd90I/AAAAAAAAADA/-n-P23EvCQQ/s400/Sign1.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5170839498121934658" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;font-family:arial;" &gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1966733609602160769-3979993142401810321?l=cummal-bane.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cummal-bane.blogspot.com/feeds/3979993142401810321/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1966733609602160769&amp;postID=3979993142401810321' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1966733609602160769/posts/default/3979993142401810321'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1966733609602160769/posts/default/3979993142401810321'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cummal-bane.blogspot.com/2008/02/sunset-on-brandywell-road.html' title='Sunset on the Brandywell road'/><author><name>Cummal Bane</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13074366409885058423</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_uFro3ZXR-uI/SLjgPv5K-ZI/AAAAAAAAAD0/9ozwDlF4HBg/S220/Pic_0011a.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_uFro3ZXR-uI/R8KDIJQd90I/AAAAAAAAADA/-n-P23EvCQQ/s72-c/Sign1.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1966733609602160769.post-3520307671713332605</id><published>2008-02-23T21:48:00.001Z</published><updated>2008-02-22T21:54:01.148Z</updated><title type='text'>Bravery</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;"There are no brave men and cowardly men in the world.  There are only brave men.  To be born, to live, to die - that takes courage enough in itself, and more than enough.  We are all brave men, and we are all afraid, and what the world calls a brave man, he, too, is brave and afraid like the rest of us.  Only he is brave for five minutes longer." &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic; font-family: arial;"&gt;Alistair MacLean&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1966733609602160769-3520307671713332605?l=cummal-bane.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cummal-bane.blogspot.com/feeds/3520307671713332605/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1966733609602160769&amp;postID=3520307671713332605' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1966733609602160769/posts/default/3520307671713332605'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1966733609602160769/posts/default/3520307671713332605'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cummal-bane.blogspot.com/2008/02/bravery.html' title='Bravery'/><author><name>Cummal Bane</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13074366409885058423</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_uFro3ZXR-uI/SLjgPv5K-ZI/AAAAAAAAAD0/9ozwDlF4HBg/S220/Pic_0011a.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1966733609602160769.post-4366504093871758401</id><published>2008-02-22T20:58:00.004Z</published><updated>2008-02-22T21:25:20.197Z</updated><title type='text'>Friday at last</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Well the week is over.  What a week it was - 5 days of boredom mixed in with mayhem and lunacy (so what changes?)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;The big news was the lack of news.  I finally had my hospital appointment.  The upshot was that there was no news.  The doctor did not know what was causing the weakness in my left side.  He was not even aware of the cyst, and he is also of the opinion that it is of no importance.  So I still don't know what it is, only what it isn't.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;And then we had a lot of fun today.  A corporate order came in on Thursday, and so we were all ready for it.  However they did not turn up until today.  Due to confusion, we ended up with the original order being all confused, and there ended up with 5 of us desperately trying to complete the order.  What is frustrating is that I had a word with the manager to say that these orders were going to tie us up, only to be told it was all in hand.  Maybe now he will think again.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Thank goodness for the weekend (well Saturday anyway, as I am working Sunday).  This evening was good - I had dinner with the vicar of Marown parish - a lovely man.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;By the way - the translation?  It is the Lord's Prayer in Manx.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1966733609602160769-4366504093871758401?l=cummal-bane.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cummal-bane.blogspot.com/feeds/4366504093871758401/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1966733609602160769&amp;postID=4366504093871758401' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1966733609602160769/posts/default/4366504093871758401'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1966733609602160769/posts/default/4366504093871758401'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cummal-bane.blogspot.com/2008/02/friday-at-last.html' title='Friday at last'/><author><name>Cummal Bane</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13074366409885058423</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_uFro3ZXR-uI/SLjgPv5K-ZI/AAAAAAAAAD0/9ozwDlF4HBg/S220/Pic_0011a.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1966733609602160769.post-94136055322486251</id><published>2008-02-17T21:21:00.000Z</published><updated>2008-02-22T21:38:04.579Z</updated><title type='text'>Can you translate this?</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Padjyr y Chairn&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Ayr ain t'ayns niau:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Casherick dy row dt'ennym.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Dy jig dty reeriaght.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Dty aigney dy row jeant er y thalloo myr te ayns niau.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Cur dooin nyn arran jiu as gagh laa.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;As leih dooin nyn loghtyn,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Myr ta shinyn leih dauesyn ta jannoo loghtyn nyn 'oi.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;As ny leeid shin ayns miolagh,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Agh livrey shin veih olk&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Son lhiats y reeriaght, as y phooar as y ghloyr.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;So dy bragh as dy bragh.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;font-family:arial;" &gt;Myr shen dy row eh.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;The first person to translate this will win a free trip down six flights of stairs.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;font-family:arial;" &gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1966733609602160769-94136055322486251?l=cummal-bane.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cummal-bane.blogspot.com/feeds/94136055322486251/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1966733609602160769&amp;postID=94136055322486251' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1966733609602160769/posts/default/94136055322486251'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1966733609602160769/posts/default/94136055322486251'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cummal-bane.blogspot.com/2008/02/can-you-translate-this.html' title='Can you translate this?'/><author><name>Cummal Bane</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13074366409885058423</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_uFro3ZXR-uI/SLjgPv5K-ZI/AAAAAAAAAD0/9ozwDlF4HBg/S220/Pic_0011a.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1966733609602160769.post-2911998121910305894</id><published>2008-02-16T20:38:00.002Z</published><updated>2008-02-16T21:05:13.292Z</updated><title type='text'>Can I sit down now?</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;Someone in head office has decided that all staff should have the chance to get an extra discount, and also that their friends and family should have a chance to save some money as well.  However, I did not notice those head office staff on the tills when we were being run off our feet.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;We had a quiet start to the day.  Then from 10:30 until 5:30 it was non-stop.  When I finally got my afternoon break, my knees had almost set so they would not bend so I could sit down.  I don't know how much money we took, but it must be a fair amount.  I know we sold a few packs of socks which I need for my 'challenge'.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;Did I tell you about my challenge?  I am ambivalent as to whether I want to succeed or fail.  The object is to increase sales of a certain range of socks by 50%.  If I succeed, I will get a bottle of something (and I can choose so it will be &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; font-family: arial;"&gt;really&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt; expensive!).  However, if I succeed, everyone else will be given a plan to increase their sales too.  The general feeling is that it is not our business to create sales plans - that is what managers are for.  We feel that too much is being passed down to us - we get the responsibility without the rewards - can you see the mismatch?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1966733609602160769-2911998121910305894?l=cummal-bane.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cummal-bane.blogspot.com/feeds/2911998121910305894/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1966733609602160769&amp;postID=2911998121910305894' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1966733609602160769/posts/default/2911998121910305894'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1966733609602160769/posts/default/2911998121910305894'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cummal-bane.blogspot.com/2008/02/can-i-sit-down-now.html' title='Can I sit down now?'/><author><name>Cummal Bane</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13074366409885058423</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_uFro3ZXR-uI/SLjgPv5K-ZI/AAAAAAAAAD0/9ozwDlF4HBg/S220/Pic_0011a.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1966733609602160769.post-6823217511053417126</id><published>2008-02-12T21:31:00.001Z</published><updated>2008-02-15T06:47:41.112Z</updated><title type='text'>It might be true!</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;This item was heard on the radio this week.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It concerns a couple who were rushed to A&amp;amp;E (ER to the American audience).&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;He had his penis hanging by a thread and she had a burn on the top of her head and bruises on the back of her head.&lt;/span&gt;  &lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Apparently he was cooking pancakes and she was performing 'an act of gratification' on him.  She distracted him when he tossed the pancake and it landed on her head.  She clenched her teeth and nearly bit his penis off, and he had to beat her about the back of the head to make her let go&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1966733609602160769-6823217511053417126?l=cummal-bane.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cummal-bane.blogspot.com/feeds/6823217511053417126/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1966733609602160769&amp;postID=6823217511053417126' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1966733609602160769/posts/default/6823217511053417126'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1966733609602160769/posts/default/6823217511053417126'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cummal-bane.blogspot.com/2008/02/it-might-be-true.html' title='It might be true!'/><author><name>Cummal Bane</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13074366409885058423</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_uFro3ZXR-uI/SLjgPv5K-ZI/AAAAAAAAAD0/9ozwDlF4HBg/S220/Pic_0011a.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1966733609602160769.post-4647263869910058851</id><published>2008-02-12T21:02:00.000Z</published><updated>2008-02-12T21:31:30.245Z</updated><title type='text'>Good news or bad news?</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: justify; font-family: arial;"&gt;Well the results are in, and the verdict has been passed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yes, the hospital have been in touch.  The scan came back negative, apart from a small cyst in the ventricles on the left side.  The opinion is that the cyst is a chance find, and unconnected to whatever happened back in December.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sooooooooo - the good news is that I have not had a stroke.  That is a great weight off my mind.  However, the bad news is that I still do not know what is causing my symptoms.  I will see the neurologist on the 21st and maybe then I will know something more.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So this afternoon I went and did some gentle work in the garden.  I am still converting it from a wilderness of mud and weeds into soil and plants.  I dug a couple of square yards on either side of the end of the patio, so that when I get something to put in them, the soil will have some roughage and nutrients dug into it.  I have a lot more to do, but I am working my way across the garden.  The rest is what I call a 'disposable garden', in that I just put in annuals and let them get on with themselves.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1966733609602160769-4647263869910058851?l=cummal-bane.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cummal-bane.blogspot.com/feeds/4647263869910058851/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1966733609602160769&amp;postID=4647263869910058851' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1966733609602160769/posts/default/4647263869910058851'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1966733609602160769/posts/default/4647263869910058851'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cummal-bane.blogspot.com/2008/02/good-news-or-bad-news.html' title='Good news or bad news?'/><author><name>Cummal Bane</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13074366409885058423</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_uFro3ZXR-uI/SLjgPv5K-ZI/AAAAAAAAAD0/9ozwDlF4HBg/S220/Pic_0011a.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1966733609602160769.post-7331434413052421958</id><published>2008-02-11T06:13:00.001Z</published><updated>2008-02-11T06:28:09.238Z</updated><title type='text'>Rallying round</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;For those of you who don't know, I have been involved in the local rally scene almost since I moved to the island.  I marshalled my first rally (up at the Q, as I found out it is called) in May 1990, and have been doing it ever since.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;When I turned 40, I found myself running up and down a road.  I said to myself "You are getting too old for this, and for standing out in the rain", so I transferred to become a radio operator.  The main advantages of this is that it is done in the car (mostly), in the dry and sitting down.  Mind you, my friend Dot puts me to shame.  She is a pensioner, and still marshalls - not just the rallies but the bikes at the TT  and the Southern 100, not to mention Jurby (oh did I mention it?  I said not to mention it!)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;Anyway, to cut a long story short (too late!), I joined the Manx Motorsport Marshalls Association (MMSMA, pronouced 'maz-ma'), and Saturday was their training day.  Neither Dot nor I knew what to expect, but it turned out to be a really interesting day.  One of the most interesting sessions was by someoene I didn't think much of before Saturday.  Finding out exactly the powers and liabilities of a marshall (and I am still a marshall, even when I am sitting in my radio car!) was really illuminating - such as finding out what information was needed to get a summons and what we could doa s reasonable force.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;In the afternoon, marshalls and radio operators had seperate sessions.  While the marshalls were being shown a variety of equipment used by recovery and medical crews (including blades to cut crash-helmets off), the radio operators were learning about the new system.  Sitting in the classroom?  Hardly!  BP said "I need 10 cars - put the radios in and of you go to drive the stages and check the coverage at all the likely radio points".  It turns out that the new system is so much better than the old.  On the old system, you would struggle to hear what was happening more than 10 miles away - you might hear control but you were unlikely to hear the other end.  This resulted in a lot of 'walk over' because noone could here.  Now you can be in Port Erin and ehar operators in Ramsey and Andreas at the other end of the island!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;In the evening was the Marshalls' Supper.  And it was good.  Not only a good dinner, but I came away with meals for 2 at the Cherry Orchard and a case of beer from the raffle!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1966733609602160769-7331434413052421958?l=cummal-bane.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cummal-bane.blogspot.com/feeds/7331434413052421958/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1966733609602160769&amp;postID=7331434413052421958' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1966733609602160769/posts/default/7331434413052421958'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1966733609602160769/posts/default/7331434413052421958'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cummal-bane.blogspot.com/2008/02/rallying-round.html' title='Rallying round'/><author><name>Cummal Bane</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13074366409885058423</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_uFro3ZXR-uI/SLjgPv5K-ZI/AAAAAAAAAD0/9ozwDlF4HBg/S220/Pic_0011a.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1966733609602160769.post-4790177685843216708</id><published>2008-02-02T21:42:00.000Z</published><updated>2008-02-02T22:04:59.814Z</updated><title type='text'>A very mixed day</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: justify; font-family: arial;"&gt;Today was a real day of contrasts.  As far as work goes, it was very slow, with only a few customers until afternoon.  Then the rain started, and people came flooding in.  Isn't it strange?  You would have thought the bad weather would have kept them at home but no - they want to brave the rain and wind to come out and shop!  Not the sort of behaviour I understand for sure!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There was the lady who slipped in the store.  I am glad I have learnt to be 'quietly bossy', as today it paid dividends for her.  When I got there, she was sitting on the floor holding her wrist, because as she fell, she had put her hand out to break her fall.  I examined her arm, and decided to bandage it to immobilize it.  The lady was saying she didn't want any fuss, but I was trying to persuade her to go up to the hospital to get it checked out.  Eventually, I offered to call a taxi for her, and she agreed.  I rang her later as I had said I would, only to be told that she had been told that her wrist was fractured.  It seems that my bandaging had helped ensure that the wrist was not too displaced and was easier to reset.  So I did something right!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then I got home to find a letter from the hospital.  I have an appointment with a neurologist on the 21st (nothing like an urgent appointment!)  The delay suggests that there is something wrong, but it is not urgent.  If the scan was clear, then surely they would have said that it was clear in the letter?  And if it was life-threatening, they would have had me in yesterday.  So it suggests that there is something they can do nothing about.  So another 3 weeks of waiting...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And then the best part of the day.  I met my daughter, and we had a great Chinese meal together.  We were talking in a whole new way - so i hope this is the start of soemthing better.  We are hoping to go out for a drink now and then now - a new form of relationship.  That made everything in the day seem unimportant - my daughter is what matters!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1966733609602160769-4790177685843216708?l=cummal-bane.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cummal-bane.blogspot.com/feeds/4790177685843216708/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1966733609602160769&amp;postID=4790177685843216708' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1966733609602160769/posts/default/4790177685843216708'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1966733609602160769/posts/default/4790177685843216708'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cummal-bane.blogspot.com/2008/02/very-mixed-day.html' title='A very mixed day'/><author><name>Cummal Bane</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13074366409885058423</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_uFro3ZXR-uI/SLjgPv5K-ZI/AAAAAAAAAD0/9ozwDlF4HBg/S220/Pic_0011a.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1966733609602160769.post-4743214229421962271</id><published>2008-01-30T06:32:00.000Z</published><updated>2008-01-30T06:51:49.736Z</updated><title type='text'>OOC</title><content type='html'>&lt;div  style="text-align: justify; font-family: arial;font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Out of control&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;At the end of November, I felt that everything was going well.  I had a job that I enjoyed, things were getting on track, and even though I was not making a lot of money, I was just about making enough to survive.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And then I had the bad migraine in early December, and since then my life has gone out of control again.  Instead of feeling like a stone with the waves breaking around me, I am back to being a leaf, tossed about on the currents of life's stream.  And it seems that the harder I try to get my feet back on the ground, the worse the currents flow and the more of a buffeting I get.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So we will see what the doctor says tomorrow and take it from there.  I get the feeling that I am moving into another conflict at work, despite my trying to avoid it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;By the way - does anyone know a cure for claustrophobia?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1966733609602160769-4743214229421962271?l=cummal-bane.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cummal-bane.blogspot.com/feeds/4743214229421962271/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1966733609602160769&amp;postID=4743214229421962271' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1966733609602160769/posts/default/4743214229421962271'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1966733609602160769/posts/default/4743214229421962271'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cummal-bane.blogspot.com/2008/01/ooc.html' title='OOC'/><author><name>Cummal Bane</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13074366409885058423</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_uFro3ZXR-uI/SLjgPv5K-ZI/AAAAAAAAAD0/9ozwDlF4HBg/S220/Pic_0011a.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1966733609602160769.post-110906914355713626</id><published>2008-01-29T20:48:00.000Z</published><updated>2008-01-29T21:41:00.601Z</updated><title type='text'>...and a bad day to follow</title><content type='html'>&lt;div  style="text-align: justify;font-family:arial;"&gt;Today I learned a new degree of panic.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It was scan-day today.  Not Tuesday, but scan-day.  I had a nice breakfast, and then it seemed that everything I tried to do made me later.  Everything from not being able to find all the paperwork I needed to being stuck in a queue of traffic.  As a result, I ended up getting to the hospital late and flustered.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It was not too bad to start with.  I was laid down on the bed and then the cage was put around my head.  That was bad, but after that i went into the scanner.  I immediately pressed the panic button as I was panicking.  They fixed a mirror and I just managed to survive the first lot of scans that took about 20 minutes.  Then they told me that they needed to do some more, so I was taken out of the machine and given an injection to 'improve the contrast' for my blood flow.  It was when they put me back in for the third time that I &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;really&lt;/span&gt; panicked!  I could not take another moment.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When I sat up on the table I felt horrible.  I thought it was bad, but whern I stood up, I walked about 3 paces and then fainted.  I thought it was only in films where people walked a couple of paces and then fainted - now I know it is for real.  My last recollection was of the nurse (who was small and slightly built) shouting for help as I went down.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The next thing I remember was lying on the floor.  It took about 10 minutes to get up, and it was difficult to hear that the next person in was a 7 year old!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After that, I went for a coffee, and then called on Sean, the Disability Employment Officer.  I told him some of the things that have been happening at work.  I am going to see my GP on Thursday, so I have to work a long day tomorrow.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So that is where things stand now.  I will keep you posted.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1966733609602160769-110906914355713626?l=cummal-bane.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cummal-bane.blogspot.com/feeds/110906914355713626/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1966733609602160769&amp;postID=110906914355713626' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1966733609602160769/posts/default/110906914355713626'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1966733609602160769/posts/default/110906914355713626'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cummal-bane.blogspot.com/2008/01/and-bad-day-to-follow.html' title='...and a bad day to follow'/><author><name>Cummal Bane</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13074366409885058423</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_uFro3ZXR-uI/SLjgPv5K-ZI/AAAAAAAAAD0/9ozwDlF4HBg/S220/Pic_0011a.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1966733609602160769.post-2289275595501061782</id><published>2008-01-28T20:42:00.000Z</published><updated>2008-01-29T20:47:40.482Z</updated><title type='text'>A bad weekend...</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: justify; font-family: arial;"&gt;This has not been a good weekend.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;For those of you I have not told, I went to visit my parents this weekend.  It was not a restful or relaxing time.  My father thinks that the manageress of the place where he is staying is very good, the food is good and there are plenty of things for him to read.  He has been looked after by her since his wife died when she was 49.  (The person who he thinks is the manageress is his wife - my mum).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We went for a walk together.  We just went round the block - along one side of the canal, across the bridge, down the other side and back again.  He was in better shape than the previous time I saw him.  He walked well, and we got round at a good pace.  And yet, there was no interest in him.  Trying to attract his attention and get him to look at things or to talk.  He was walking, and so we walked.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And he talks.  We used to be able to talk about all manner of things, and to have long discussions.  Now he talks at you.  And it is hard to follow his conversation.  I am sure he can follow the links but it comes out with bits missing.  He knows he has a bad memory, but it really frustrates him.  And because you can't tell what he is thinking, it is very hard to help him find the words.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This has been the hardest post to write.  Please forgive me, but I am going to go and cry...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1966733609602160769-2289275595501061782?l=cummal-bane.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cummal-bane.blogspot.com/feeds/2289275595501061782/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1966733609602160769&amp;postID=2289275595501061782' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1966733609602160769/posts/default/2289275595501061782'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1966733609602160769/posts/default/2289275595501061782'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cummal-bane.blogspot.com/2008/01/this-has-not-been-good-weekend.html' title='A bad weekend...'/><author><name>Cummal Bane</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13074366409885058423</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_uFro3ZXR-uI/SLjgPv5K-ZI/AAAAAAAAAD0/9ozwDlF4HBg/S220/Pic_0011a.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1966733609602160769.post-1279893948349965027</id><published>2008-01-19T07:04:00.001Z</published><updated>2008-01-19T07:13:45.394Z</updated><title type='text'>Saturday</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: justify; font-family: arial;"&gt;Well I don't know what to put here (no change there).  It has been a mixed week.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The doctor and the dentist were fine on Tuesday - apart from wanting me to use a sensitive toothpaste.  And then on Wednesday, the whole week got derailed.  I went in as usual, but started feeling off-colour even before I got to the salesfloor.  I could not eat my lunch and then just after 2 I was sick.  Everyone was telling me to go home, but I did not want to risk the bus, so I waited until the day finished and I could get a lift.  I got homwe and went to bed, and did not get up until midday the following day.  I hardly ate a thing for 2 days.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now I feel a bit better, but I am still weak.  My appetite is still not back to normal, but I will try to work through it.  So back into work for an 8 1/2 hour day.  Anyone fancy taking my place?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So what have you all been up to?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1966733609602160769-1279893948349965027?l=cummal-bane.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cummal-bane.blogspot.com/feeds/1279893948349965027/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1966733609602160769&amp;postID=1279893948349965027' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1966733609602160769/posts/default/1279893948349965027'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1966733609602160769/posts/default/1279893948349965027'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cummal-bane.blogspot.com/2008/01/saturday.html' title='Saturday'/><author><name>Cummal Bane</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13074366409885058423</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_uFro3ZXR-uI/SLjgPv5K-ZI/AAAAAAAAAD0/9ozwDlF4HBg/S220/Pic_0011a.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1966733609602160769.post-1160064324794315021</id><published>2008-01-08T20:55:00.000Z</published><updated>2008-01-08T21:15:28.697Z</updated><title type='text'>The BodyRockers*</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;The first 2 days of this week have been a very moving experience.  On Monday morning, I moved the underwear at work (that being the department I am responsible for).  On Monday afternoon I was told it was in the wrong place so I had to start moving it all back again.  And then this morning, the assistant manager came and looked at it and decided it was all wrong, so it all had to be moved again!    It is so disheartening to keep moving things around - it messes up the store and confuses the customers.  And don't forget that while lugging this stuff around, I am 'on light duties and sitting down' (yeah right!)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;With the wind and the rain, and the late finishes, it is hard to realise that we are getting into the year.  I noticed when I came home on the bus on Monday that there was light in the sky for a lot longer than I had previously noticed.  We are already a week in and more, and the days are getting longer.  It may be a few months away but spring is coming.  Of course, the other give away is that we are already getting summer clothes in.  I think it is crazy - coming into the coldest and darkest part of winter and they get rid of all the thick sweaters and replace them with t-shirts and shorts - go figure that one out?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;Oh well ...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;* Why is this post called the BodyRockers?  They had a hit song called "I Like The Way You Move"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1966733609602160769-1160064324794315021?l=cummal-bane.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cummal-bane.blogspot.com/feeds/1160064324794315021/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1966733609602160769&amp;postID=1160064324794315021' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1966733609602160769/posts/default/1160064324794315021'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1966733609602160769/posts/default/1160064324794315021'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cummal-bane.blogspot.com/2008/01/bodyrockers.html' title='The BodyRockers*'/><author><name>Cummal Bane</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13074366409885058423</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_uFro3ZXR-uI/SLjgPv5K-ZI/AAAAAAAAAD0/9ozwDlF4HBg/S220/Pic_0011a.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1966733609602160769.post-9042473006165013731</id><published>2008-01-03T21:34:00.000Z</published><updated>2008-01-03T21:21:16.125Z</updated><title type='text'>Made for corners</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: justify; font-family: arial;"&gt;Have you noticed how some people seem made for centre-stage?  They come in and attract attention - some do it deliberately, while others do it naturally.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am not like that.  I noticed it again when I was in church on Christmas Day.  I was at St Johns, and felt most comfortable in the back corner.  Don't ask me why, but I feel I am made for corners.  I feel more comfortable there.  I do not mind doing the minor things, the unimportant things, the little things.  maybe that is why I like working in the shop?  it is not the most glamourous of jobs, nor the best paid.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Just because I am in a corner, it doesn't make me insignificant.  Just think of a stage performance.  For the star of the show, how many people work behind the scenes.  Or consider the credits on a film.  Look how many actors are listed, and then all the people who work behind the scenes to make it all happen.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So let's hear it for the people in corners - the ones who do the 'little' jobs without which the bigger things could not be accomplished.  Let's hear it for all the foot soldiers in a world of generals!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1966733609602160769-9042473006165013731?l=cummal-bane.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cummal-bane.blogspot.com/feeds/9042473006165013731/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1966733609602160769&amp;postID=9042473006165013731' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1966733609602160769/posts/default/9042473006165013731'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1966733609602160769/posts/default/9042473006165013731'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cummal-bane.blogspot.com/2008/01/made-for-corners.html' title='Made for corners'/><author><name>Cummal Bane</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13074366409885058423</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_uFro3ZXR-uI/SLjgPv5K-ZI/AAAAAAAAAD0/9ozwDlF4HBg/S220/Pic_0011a.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1966733609602160769.post-7036363693383714234</id><published>2008-01-02T20:55:00.000Z</published><updated>2008-01-03T21:02:42.963Z</updated><title type='text'>A bit more news</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Blein vie noa to you all.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Though whether it will be a blein vie (a good year) may well depend on the 22nd of January.  On that day, I have to go for an MRI scan at the local hospital.  The appointment letter was waiting for me when I got home from work tonight.  I am not sure whether I want them to find something or to find nothing.  If they find nothing then it means that I don't know what has been causing the problems - if they find something I will know what it is and what I am up against.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;And if that was not enough.  I sit down tonight to eat my sandwiches and read a little to relax after work.  I am reading 'Full Circle' by Michael Palin.  And on the first entry I read that he gets a message to call his wife to be told she has a benign brain tumour.  Just what I needed to read!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;So we will have to see if it will be a blein vie or a blein drogh (a good year or a bad year).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Update... I had to put the appointment back a week as I could not afford to lose the hours that week.  I am already leaving an hour early on the Friday so I can catch an earleir flight to the 'other island' to see my parents - so losing 2 or 3 more hours was just too big an amount to make up in the week.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1966733609602160769-7036363693383714234?l=cummal-bane.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cummal-bane.blogspot.com/feeds/7036363693383714234/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1966733609602160769&amp;postID=7036363693383714234' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1966733609602160769/posts/default/7036363693383714234'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1966733609602160769/posts/default/7036363693383714234'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cummal-bane.blogspot.com/2008/01/bit-more-news.html' title='A bit more news'/><author><name>Cummal Bane</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13074366409885058423</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_uFro3ZXR-uI/SLjgPv5K-ZI/AAAAAAAAAD0/9ozwDlF4HBg/S220/Pic_0011a.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1966733609602160769.post-2080824477448115171</id><published>2007-12-26T21:23:00.002Z</published><updated>2008-02-22T21:42:08.878Z</updated><title type='text'>That little stretch of water</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Nollick ghennal to you all!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Well the festive season has come and gone and things are getting back to normal.  If anyone wants to be put off the modern Christmas, I can think of no more off-putting method that working in retail.  We didn't quite have any fights, but I think it was a close run thing.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Anyway, back to the stretch of water.  I live closer to my parents than my sister does.  However, when she wants to see them, she gets in the car and is there in a couple of hours.  For me, it is a flight or a ferry (and the later you book it, the more expensive it is), and then getting to their house from where I land.  And I need to be there more and more.  Dad is going downhill faster and faster - his Alzheimer's seems to be like a runaway train, gathering pace as it goes.  Now he forgets where he lives in the 20 minutes it takes to go and buy the morning paper.  he is on Promazine twice a day, and we all fear that one day it will not be enough, and his threats of violence will boil over into more than threats.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;One day, Mum will not be able to cope.  And if he is in 24-hour nursing care, what becomes of Mum?  For nearly 50 years, she has kept the home and looked after the family, so that he can work.  With no-one to support and care for, what will become of her?  In my darkest moments, I see Mum going downhill because she has nothing and no-one left to support.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;What can I do?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1966733609602160769-2080824477448115171?l=cummal-bane.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cummal-bane.blogspot.com/feeds/2080824477448115171/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1966733609602160769&amp;postID=2080824477448115171' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1966733609602160769/posts/default/2080824477448115171'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1966733609602160769/posts/default/2080824477448115171'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cummal-bane.blogspot.com/2007/12/that-little-stretch-of-water.html' title='That little stretch of water'/><author><name>Cummal Bane</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13074366409885058423</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_uFro3ZXR-uI/SLjgPv5K-ZI/AAAAAAAAAD0/9ozwDlF4HBg/S220/Pic_0011a.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1966733609602160769.post-6432695454343634633</id><published>2007-12-17T20:33:00.000Z</published><updated>2007-12-26T21:33:04.910Z</updated><title type='text'>Second blood</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;This time noone can say I did it wrong!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;A woman, 7-months pregnant, slipped and fell (well if she will wear high heels!) and went down with a bang.  I got her a seat, sat her down and persuaded her to go to hospital for a check-up, then called the ambulance and talked them through.  No problems, no reaction (apart from concern) so I did this one right.  It was not the most taxing one I have had to deal with, but I did everything that ahd to be done which is what matters.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:arial;font-size:85%;"  &gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Thought for today - there is no evidence that Christmas should be in December.  Some people think November, some October and some even in September.  Supermarkets think it should be in all of them.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1966733609602160769-6432695454343634633?l=cummal-bane.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cummal-bane.blogspot.com/feeds/6432695454343634633/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1966733609602160769&amp;postID=6432695454343634633' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1966733609602160769/posts/default/6432695454343634633'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1966733609602160769/posts/default/6432695454343634633'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cummal-bane.blogspot.com/2007/12/second-blood.html' title='Second blood'/><author><name>Cummal Bane</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13074366409885058423</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_uFro3ZXR-uI/SLjgPv5K-ZI/AAAAAAAAAD0/9ozwDlF4HBg/S220/Pic_0011a.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1966733609602160769.post-647466618341836292</id><published>2007-12-15T06:25:00.001Z</published><updated>2007-12-15T08:08:05.248Z</updated><title type='text'>Never trust a daughter</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: justify; font-family: arial;"&gt;Or beware of daughters saving seats!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It was the Peel pantomime last night.  My daughter has been in the chorus for many years, but this year she was cast in one of the main parts.  At last I found out that she was the Principal Boy (Prince Handsome!)  I have to say, I was apprehensive how she would cope, as she has never had a main role before.  I have to say though, even without prejudice, she was great!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have been to the pantos since Joy started in them.  And to be honest, it was one of the best pantos I have ever seen.  Not just because of Joy (I am biased so I would say that), but overall.  The directing was sharp, the actors knew their lines and they could also ad-lib well if things went wrong (such as audience shouting!)  Even when the baddie was about to stab the principal boy (and I was shouting out 'Do it!'), and the fairies were trying to encourage the audience to support them and overcome the baddie, the principal boy lifted her head, looked at the audience and said 'You have no hope'!  She is a natural I think!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Any way - the reason for not trusting a daughter.  I was told that I had had a seat saved for me, so that I would get a good view.  I thought this was normal for the main people in the performance (how naive can I be?)  It was a good seat (I tend to sit towards the back as I am taller than many), but the penny didn't drop until the clown said that they needed a bodyguard from the audience.  I thought I had escaped when the 'spotlight of doom' went onto someone else, but then finally the truth came through.  I was 'the chosen one', and since it had been emphasized that whatever happened, I had to get up and take part, I could hardly back out.  I had to go up on stage, put on a coat and a hat like a chicken, then march while singing '500 Miles' by The Proclaimers.  It was embarrassing but also a laugh - maybe I will see if I can get in to the panto next year!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;However, I will know now not to trust my daughter any more!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1966733609602160769-647466618341836292?l=cummal-bane.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cummal-bane.blogspot.com/feeds/647466618341836292/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1966733609602160769&amp;postID=647466618341836292' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1966733609602160769/posts/default/647466618341836292'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1966733609602160769/posts/default/647466618341836292'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cummal-bane.blogspot.com/2007/12/never-trust-daughter.html' title='Never trust a daughter'/><author><name>Cummal Bane</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13074366409885058423</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_uFro3ZXR-uI/SLjgPv5K-ZI/AAAAAAAAAD0/9ozwDlF4HBg/S220/Pic_0011a.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1966733609602160769.post-588510115436626887</id><published>2007-12-12T20:55:00.001Z</published><updated>2008-01-08T20:54:22.078Z</updated><title type='text'>A bit of follow-up</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Well it is one week since the mega-migraine.  I took the following days off, and went back to work on Monday.  I knew after a couple of hours that my left leg wasn't right, so managed to get a doctor's appointment for Wednesday.  And on my first day back, I had to work extra hours to make up for having to leave early to go to the doctor's later in the week!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Anyway, the leg.  It is like walking around on a leg that is asleep - it works but you don't feel the feedback in the way youa re used to.  Sometimes when I turn, it does not want to turn with me.  And on one occaision, I kicked a chair and only realised I had done it when it banged into my thigh.  Add to that a tingling in the fingertips of mmy left hand, and I am sure you can understand why I am worried.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Well the doctor could not find anything wrong.  All my reflexes are working normally, and there is power in the leg.  He could not explain why it is like it is, but he wants me to see a speciualist as soon as possible (and on the NHS that can be quite a long time!).  So I wait ... and wait ... and wait ...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1966733609602160769-588510115436626887?l=cummal-bane.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cummal-bane.blogspot.com/feeds/588510115436626887/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1966733609602160769&amp;postID=588510115436626887' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1966733609602160769/posts/default/588510115436626887'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1966733609602160769/posts/default/588510115436626887'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cummal-bane.blogspot.com/2007/12/bit-of-follow-up.html' title='A bit of follow-up'/><author><name>Cummal Bane</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13074366409885058423</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_uFro3ZXR-uI/SLjgPv5K-ZI/AAAAAAAAAD0/9ozwDlF4HBg/S220/Pic_0011a.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1966733609602160769.post-7347510729118756400</id><published>2007-12-08T11:08:00.000Z</published><updated>2007-12-08T21:34:44.772Z</updated><title type='text'>Horrid wet day</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;As the brooms of rain sweep down the valley, I sit and wait for it to ease off enough to make it worth going for the bread without getting soaked.  I thought when the wind backed it would ease off, but that has not happened yet.  When it is raining, I can tell the direction of the wind by which side of the power station chimney is wet.  It was in the south but has now backed to the east (note that when the wind swings in a clockwise direction it is veering, and when it swings counter-clockwise it is backing).&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Thank you for the messages of support after my last post.  It really was horrible, but I am on the mend now.  Apart from a little bit of numbness in the leg, and some weakness, I am as good as new.  Which is why I am waiting to walk down to the bakery to collect my bread, and not wanting to get soaked.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Well the rain has eased off so I shall risk going out.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Update from later.  I made it down town but the wind was horrendous!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1966733609602160769-7347510729118756400?l=cummal-bane.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cummal-bane.blogspot.com/feeds/7347510729118756400/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1966733609602160769&amp;postID=7347510729118756400' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1966733609602160769/posts/default/7347510729118756400'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1966733609602160769/posts/default/7347510729118756400'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cummal-bane.blogspot.com/2007/12/horrid-wet-day.html' title='Horrid wet day'/><author><name>Cummal Bane</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13074366409885058423</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_uFro3ZXR-uI/SLjgPv5K-ZI/AAAAAAAAAD0/9ozwDlF4HBg/S220/Pic_0011a.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1966733609602160769.post-8646759964055466077</id><published>2007-12-06T20:20:00.000Z</published><updated>2007-12-06T20:47:24.556Z</updated><title type='text'>I think it's Thursday...</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;...but I am not sure.  After the last 36 hours, I am not really sure about anything!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;Wednesday - just another day of the week, right?  Well as far as yesterday is concerned, wrong!  It started out as a fairly normal day, then rapidly went off.  The bus got in late, though I had time top nip down and do my bit of shopping before going to the canteen for a cup of tea and a sausage sandwich.  And that was when the 'fun' began.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;I had had a minor migraine attack on Tuesday, so I had the headache.  As I sat in the canteen, I could tell my eyes were going off and I was heading into another attack.  I took a couple of paracetamol to see if that would ease the pain.  I sat, and the eyes got worse.  Come 9:30, time to head downstairs.  I stood up and went down all right - straight back into my chair (and it was lucky that was behind me or it would have been the floor).  After that, it got a bit confused.  I will list some of the memories I can recall&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;ul style="font-family: arial; text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;li&gt;falling sideways off a chair and being supported by someone's tummy&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;being told to stand up but not being able to use my legs&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;hearing the ambulance man saying 'I am not convinced' (I never found out what about)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;being put in the CT scanner&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;trying to remember the access code for my phone&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;lying on a stationary trolley feeling it turning round and round&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;being wheeled along endless, cold corridor&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ul&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;The next clear memory I have is being in the hospital ward with my manager sitting next to me.  I think that was about 12:30, so I am not sure what happened to the morning.  I spent the afternoon and evening in bed, because I had no strength at all in my legs, particularly the left one.  I missed lunch, and only had a sandwich for dinner, despite having a packed lunch in my bag (I wasn't hungry).&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;They settled us down for the night about 10:30, but that wasn't the end of it.  With an admission at about 12:30 and another about 2:30, it was close on 4 before I got to sleep.  I was awake by 6.  The other occupant of the ward, an 82 year old gentleman called Jack who was awaiting the air ambulance to return so he could be flown to Liverpool to get his pacemaker replaced, managed even less than me, because at 5 his pulse dropped and a CCU* team rushed in to make sure he was ok!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;And today?  Today was waiting to get out.  I kept trying my legs, and strength to stand was back by morning, and I could walk unaided by about 2.  I got out at about 2:30, and caught the bus home, though the walk from the bus wore me out.  Pepsi was glad to see me but I am glad I had some quick meals in the freezer, so I didn;t have to do much.  I have sat in front of the TV tonight, too tired to read or sew.  An early night with some pain-killers for me.  What have you all been doing?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;*CCU - Coronary Care Unit&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1966733609602160769-8646759964055466077?l=cummal-bane.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cummal-bane.blogspot.com/feeds/8646759964055466077/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1966733609602160769&amp;postID=8646759964055466077' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1966733609602160769/posts/default/8646759964055466077'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1966733609602160769/posts/default/8646759964055466077'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cummal-bane.blogspot.com/2007/12/i-think-its-thursday.html' title='I think it&apos;s Thursday...'/><author><name>Cummal Bane</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13074366409885058423</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_uFro3ZXR-uI/SLjgPv5K-ZI/AAAAAAAAAD0/9ozwDlF4HBg/S220/Pic_0011a.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1966733609602160769.post-3696459458379924703</id><published>2007-11-27T22:20:00.000Z</published><updated>2007-11-27T22:42:34.074Z</updated><title type='text'>First blood</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;Well I did it.  My first time as first responder to an accident at work - and I did it right!!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;I was in work on Sunday (yes I &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic; font-family: arial;"&gt;know&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt; what I have said about volunteering, but when a manager looks at me and asks, I find it hard to say no (especially the one who asked me!))  I was in the fitting room having helped a nice elderly gentleman choose some clothes.  He was walking away with his daughter when he caught his foot on the display unit and down he went with a bang!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;I did everything I had to.  I called the duty first aider, made sure the bleeding had pressure applied to it, talked with ambulance control to give them the details.  I even made sure I got all the details for the incident report.  But most of all, I didn't panic!  I had some concerns that when the first time I had to respond, I would bottle it or do something stupid or not be able to cope.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;Afterwards, yes I had the adrenaline to deal with and a few other issues - but the main thing is that I did what had to be done.  When I rang the daughter in the evening, the gentleman was out of hospital.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1966733609602160769-3696459458379924703?l=cummal-bane.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cummal-bane.blogspot.com/feeds/3696459458379924703/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1966733609602160769&amp;postID=3696459458379924703' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1966733609602160769/posts/default/3696459458379924703'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1966733609602160769/posts/default/3696459458379924703'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cummal-bane.blogspot.com/2007/11/first-blood.html' title='First blood'/><author><name>Cummal Bane</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13074366409885058423</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_uFro3ZXR-uI/SLjgPv5K-ZI/AAAAAAAAAD0/9ozwDlF4HBg/S220/Pic_0011a.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1966733609602160769.post-2419287429485311567</id><published>2007-11-24T06:42:00.000Z</published><updated>2007-11-24T06:58:13.991Z</updated><title type='text'>The gasman cometh</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: justify; font-family: arial;"&gt;Oh boy - what a palaver!  Why do tradesmen make things so complicated?  Let me explain...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have just received my gas-bill.  It was an estimate that was wayyyyy over the top, so I went to get a reading to correct it.  Whjile I was down on my knees reading the meter, I thought "hang on, there is a smell of gas here".  It wasn't strong, so I thought I would tell them while I was on the phone correcting the meter reading, and then arrange a time for them to come out and look at it.  I knew it had built up over a week so it could not be a serious problem.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Talk about opening a can of worms!  No sooner had I mentioned a leak when I was told they had to be there inside an hour.  As I was at work and there was noone home, this was a problem.  "We need access" they insisted, even though i had pointed out that there was nobody to let them in.  Then they decided they could do a "letter-box" test, where they would put the detector through the letter-box and read the quantity of gas on the other side.  This was fine, apart from the fact that I have no letter-box!  Eventually, they agreed to collect the keys from the store and let themselves in.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway, to cut a long story short, there was a gas leak, (which was caused by the work that the Gas Board engineer had done when he changed my safety device (which is supposed to prevent gas leaks!)  He also checked the fire in the old living room, and condemned it as unsafe since it had not been fitted according to the manufacturer's instructions.  Again, this is slightly worrying, as it had been fitted by the Gas Board!  Now I am getting very worried.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So if I am not here for a while, check the Manx news, to see if there has been a gas explosion here.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1966733609602160769-2419287429485311567?l=cummal-bane.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cummal-bane.blogspot.com/feeds/2419287429485311567/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1966733609602160769&amp;postID=2419287429485311567' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1966733609602160769/posts/default/2419287429485311567'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1966733609602160769/posts/default/2419287429485311567'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cummal-bane.blogspot.com/2007/11/gasman-cometh.html' title='The gasman cometh'/><author><name>Cummal Bane</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13074366409885058423</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_uFro3ZXR-uI/SLjgPv5K-ZI/AAAAAAAAAD0/9ozwDlF4HBg/S220/Pic_0011a.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1966733609602160769.post-6445582790867844188</id><published>2007-11-23T21:11:00.000Z</published><updated>2007-11-23T21:26:51.073Z</updated><title type='text'>BBC Radio 4 News</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: justify; font-family: arial;"&gt;Heard on the BBC news tonight&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;'...the M/S Explorer struck an iceberg with 100 pasengers and more than 50 crew on board.'&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Thinks - that is a very big crew for an iceberg!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1966733609602160769-6445582790867844188?l=cummal-bane.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cummal-bane.blogspot.com/feeds/6445582790867844188/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1966733609602160769&amp;postID=6445582790867844188' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1966733609602160769/posts/default/6445582790867844188'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1966733609602160769/posts/default/6445582790867844188'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cummal-bane.blogspot.com/2007/11/bbc-radio-4-news.html' title='BBC Radio 4 News'/><author><name>Cummal Bane</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13074366409885058423</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_uFro3ZXR-uI/SLjgPv5K-ZI/AAAAAAAAAD0/9ozwDlF4HBg/S220/Pic_0011a.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1966733609602160769.post-5614809054259849482</id><published>2007-11-20T09:47:00.000Z</published><updated>2007-11-28T20:51:22.197Z</updated><title type='text'>Achievement</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;I was thinking about achievement.  I like to watch athletics, which is probably one of the purest forms of sport (drugs excluded) - all competing on an equal footing to see who is the fastest or strongest; who can jump the highest or the longest.  All for the gold medal - something that looks good on the mantelpiece.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;And then there are other achievements.  like Jane Tomlinson who raised money for cancer research, even though she was dying of cancer herself.  She was rewarded with a posthumous CBE for her work.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;And then there is me.  I will never win a gold medal or ride across America for charity.  Nor will I get in the Guinness Book of Records.  I will never climb Mount Everest or swim the Channel.  So I will have to get my satisfaction and sense of achievement from smaller things.  Such as swapping a bulb in the car headlight and having it work!  Alright, so it may be a little thing, but for me it mattered.  Standing in the wind and rain on Ramsey quay yesterday, just so I could be legal to drive home.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;One thing I have learnt is to take my satisfaction from the little things in my life.  Whether it is completing some embroidery, or as I said, achieving something practical (as I am useless with my hands), I try to find my satisfaction in the small things.  Even a neatly arranged section at work can be satisfying, and how small is that?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Someone once said "don't sweat the small stuff".  My take on that is instead of sweating the small stuff, try to take pride in it.  That way, even though your achievements are small, you do get a lot of them!  And small bricks can build a mighty wall.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1966733609602160769-5614809054259849482?l=cummal-bane.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cummal-bane.blogspot.com/feeds/5614809054259849482/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1966733609602160769&amp;postID=5614809054259849482' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1966733609602160769/posts/default/5614809054259849482'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1966733609602160769/posts/default/5614809054259849482'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cummal-bane.blogspot.com/2007/11/achievement.html' title='Achievement'/><author><name>Cummal Bane</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13074366409885058423</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_uFro3ZXR-uI/SLjgPv5K-ZI/AAAAAAAAAD0/9ozwDlF4HBg/S220/Pic_0011a.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1966733609602160769.post-8087597006612027219</id><published>2007-11-14T21:34:00.000Z</published><updated>2007-11-14T21:45:19.319Z</updated><title type='text'>Manx Facts - number 1</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;An occasional series of interesting facts about my home&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Fact - the Romans never came to the island&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;The reason for this is that they had booked with the Steam Packet.  However, when the saw the cost of their tickets, the decided to go and invade somewhere cheaper instead.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;That is the official reason.  However, I incline to the alternative view that they were due to travel on the Mare Felix*, but due to inclement weather, the sailing was cancelled and so they invaded Scotland instead, sinec they could get there by road (once they had been built).&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;font-family:arial;" &gt;*Mare Felix - Sea Cat&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;All facts have been carefully checked at the Whitehouse Hotel public bar&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1966733609602160769-8087597006612027219?l=cummal-bane.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cummal-bane.blogspot.com/feeds/8087597006612027219/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1966733609602160769&amp;postID=8087597006612027219' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1966733609602160769/posts/default/8087597006612027219'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1966733609602160769/posts/default/8087597006612027219'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cummal-bane.blogspot.com/2007/11/alternative-history-of-isle-of-man-part.html' title='Manx Facts - number 1'/><author><name>Cummal Bane</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13074366409885058423</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_uFro3ZXR-uI/SLjgPv5K-ZI/AAAAAAAAAD0/9ozwDlF4HBg/S220/Pic_0011a.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1966733609602160769.post-8072505315009608850</id><published>2007-11-13T21:43:00.000Z</published><updated>2007-11-13T21:45:01.324Z</updated><title type='text'>This is a recorded message...</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial; font-style: italic;"&gt;as I am out at the moment.  Normal service will be resumed just as soon as I am sure what is normal anyway.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1966733609602160769-8072505315009608850?l=cummal-bane.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cummal-bane.blogspot.com/feeds/8072505315009608850/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1966733609602160769&amp;postID=8072505315009608850' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1966733609602160769/posts/default/8072505315009608850'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1966733609602160769/posts/default/8072505315009608850'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cummal-bane.blogspot.com/2007/11/this-is-recorded-message.html' title='This is a recorded message...'/><author><name>Cummal Bane</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13074366409885058423</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_uFro3ZXR-uI/SLjgPv5K-ZI/AAAAAAAAAD0/9ozwDlF4HBg/S220/Pic_0011a.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1966733609602160769.post-865422042351079314</id><published>2007-11-05T06:37:00.001Z</published><updated>2007-11-05T06:42:11.097Z</updated><title type='text'>Just another day</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;Sunday.  One precious day off in the weekend.  So how come I am too tired to enjoy it?  Apart from my laundry and cooking lunch, Sunday was a non-event.  I vegged out completely - let the day flow past and did almost nothing.  Yet I do not feel rested!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;Which means that come this morning (Monday) I am facing another week and am not feeling recharged enough to enter it.  it is funny, but when I worked in an office, I never really appreciated the weekends.  Now I am in retail, they are precious.  Yes, part of the last weekend was my own fault for swapping so someone could go away.  As a result of that, I have 2 1-day weekends.  And this week, I will be in on Tuesday (when I should be off) and off on Friday (when I should be in).&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;  I am not sure if I am coming or going any more - am I on my head or on my heels?  Answers on a postcard please!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;Oh well - I owe, I owe, so off to work I go.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1966733609602160769-865422042351079314?l=cummal-bane.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cummal-bane.blogspot.com/feeds/865422042351079314/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1966733609602160769&amp;postID=865422042351079314' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1966733609602160769/posts/default/865422042351079314'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1966733609602160769/posts/default/865422042351079314'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cummal-bane.blogspot.com/2007/11/just-another-day.html' title='Just another day'/><author><name>Cummal Bane</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13074366409885058423</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_uFro3ZXR-uI/SLjgPv5K-ZI/AAAAAAAAAD0/9ozwDlF4HBg/S220/Pic_0011a.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1966733609602160769.post-2869776645360202260</id><published>2007-11-01T20:03:00.001Z</published><updated>2007-11-02T06:36:07.078Z</updated><title type='text'>Hanging on in there...</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: justify; font-family: arial;"&gt;Ok, so part of it is my fault.  I will insist on agreeing to help when I am asked to.  I guess it is just something in me - whn your manager asks, you agree.  I am trying to do what i can to ease the pressure on me.  But I still need to learn top say no.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This can really be traced back to one of my colleagues, whom I will call T, came and asked if anyone could swap a Saturday so that she could go away for the weekend.  I didn't mind too much so I said I would swap with her.  That was ok, as I got Monday off.  When I came back on Tuesday, the new section manager (the smart money still says a month) asked if I could start early on Wednesday, which I said was not a problem, even though it meant working through to 6.  I left the house at 6:50 Wednesday morning and walked through the door at 6:50 in the evening!  Then it was Thursday too, though I did manage to negotiate an hour earlier finish in return for the hour earlier start.  And Friday and Saturday I am starting at 8 - so I am not seeing much daylight at either end of the day.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Wednesday - that was a beast of a day.  Apart from the long hours, it was a day of a thousand little pinpricks.  There was no one thing I can point to and say 'yes, that was what made it such a bad day'.  But like the straw that broke the camel's back, by the end of the day I was ready to snap at almost anyone or anything.  It was a day of just hanging in there and trying to make it through to the evening in one piece.  By the time I got home, i was too tired to eat.  And since then, well, it is just a case of keeping going.  My resilliance has gone and I am worn out.  Only 2 days to go though - what fun!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And just a silly thing.  On Tuesday morning, as I was walking to the bus, there was a beautiful sky.  I went to photograph it but found I had forgotten my phone!  I wish I had - it will be the last sunrise I see this week.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1966733609602160769-2869776645360202260?l=cummal-bane.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cummal-bane.blogspot.com/feeds/2869776645360202260/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1966733609602160769&amp;postID=2869776645360202260' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1966733609602160769/posts/default/2869776645360202260'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1966733609602160769/posts/default/2869776645360202260'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cummal-bane.blogspot.com/2007/11/hanging-on-in-there.html' title='Hanging on in there...'/><author><name>Cummal Bane</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13074366409885058423</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_uFro3ZXR-uI/SLjgPv5K-ZI/AAAAAAAAAD0/9ozwDlF4HBg/S220/Pic_0011a.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1966733609602160769.post-5816709841287507741</id><published>2007-10-28T07:44:00.000Z</published><updated>2007-10-28T08:08:23.359Z</updated><title type='text'>One hour</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;One hour makes such a difference.  I do not know why the clocks going back should make such a difference, but it does.  If someone can explain this phenomenon, I would love to hear the explanation.  Let me expand...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;I set my watch and alarm clock back before I go to sleep on Saturday night.  I then try to sleep the same hours I would normally, even sometimes staying up a bit later.  I wake at the normal time, and yet feel much more rested than I do normally.  Is that peculiar or what?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Oh well - at elast it is a beautiful morning and I have my laundry on.  We have had some mixed weather, but it is nice to see a bright sunny morning.  The weather does lift you.  I am convinced I am a SAD person (yes I am sure you all think I am!)  Seriously, I am sure I suffer from SAD - and so in the winter when I am going to work in the dark and coming home in the dark, I get down and quiet and withdrawn.  So, this blog may become sparse and inward looking.  But that is me - what more can I offer you?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1966733609602160769-5816709841287507741?l=cummal-bane.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cummal-bane.blogspot.com/feeds/5816709841287507741/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1966733609602160769&amp;postID=5816709841287507741' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1966733609602160769/posts/default/5816709841287507741'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1966733609602160769/posts/default/5816709841287507741'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cummal-bane.blogspot.com/2007/10/one-hour.html' title='One hour'/><author><name>Cummal Bane</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13074366409885058423</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_uFro3ZXR-uI/SLjgPv5K-ZI/AAAAAAAAAD0/9ozwDlF4HBg/S220/Pic_0011a.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1966733609602160769.post-3041206154958098527</id><published>2007-10-25T06:29:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2007-10-25T06:30:28.388+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Ever feel like this?</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: justify; font-family: arial;"&gt;The Old Sailor&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There was once an old sailor my grandfather knew&lt;br /&gt;Who had so many things which he wanted to do&lt;br /&gt;That, whenever he thought it was time to begin,&lt;br /&gt;He couldn't because of the state he was in.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He was shipwrecked, and lived on a island for weeks,&lt;br /&gt;And he wanted a hat, and he wanted some breeks;&lt;br /&gt;And he wanted some nets, or a line and some hooks&lt;br /&gt;For the turtles and things which you read of in books.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And, thinking of this, he remembered a thing&lt;br /&gt;Which he wanted (for water) and that was a spring;&lt;br /&gt;And he thought that to talk to he'd look for, and keep&lt;br /&gt;(If he found it) a goat, or some chickens and sheep.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then, because of the weather, he wanted a hut&lt;br /&gt;With a door (to come in by) which opened and shut&lt;br /&gt;(With a jerk, which was useful if snakes were about),&lt;br /&gt;And a very strong lock to keep savages out.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He began on the fish-hooks, and when he'd begun&lt;br /&gt;He decided he couldn't because of the sun.&lt;br /&gt;So he knew what he ought to begin with, and that&lt;br /&gt;Was to find, or to make, a large sun-stopping hat.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He was making the hat with some leaves from a tree,&lt;br /&gt;When he thought, "I'm as hot as a body can be,&lt;br /&gt;And I've nothing to take for my terrible thirst;&lt;br /&gt;So I'll look for a spring, and I'll look for it first."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then he thought as he started, "Oh, dear and oh, dear!&lt;br /&gt;I'll be lonely tomorrow with nobody here!"&lt;br /&gt;So he made in his note-book a couple of notes:&lt;br /&gt;"I must first find some chickens" and "No, I mean goats."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He had just seen a goat (which he knew by the shape)&lt;br /&gt;When he thought, "But I must have boat for escape.&lt;br /&gt;But a boat means a sail, which means needles and thread;&lt;br /&gt;So I'd better sit down and make needles instead."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He began on a needle, but thought as he worked,&lt;br /&gt;That, if this was an island where savages lurked,&lt;br /&gt;Sitting safe in his hut he'd have nothing to fear,&lt;br /&gt;Whereas now they might suddenly breathe in his ear!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So he thought of his hut ... and he thought of his boat,&lt;br /&gt;And his hat and his breeks, and his chickens and goat,&lt;br /&gt;And the hooks (for his food) and the spring (for his thirst) ...&lt;br /&gt;But he never could think which he ought to do first.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And so in the end he did nothing at all,&lt;br /&gt;But basked on the shingle wrapped up in a shawl.&lt;br /&gt;And I think it was dreadful the way he behaved -&lt;br /&gt;He did nothing but bask until he was saved!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;A A Milne&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1966733609602160769-3041206154958098527?l=cummal-bane.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cummal-bane.blogspot.com/feeds/3041206154958098527/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1966733609602160769&amp;postID=3041206154958098527' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1966733609602160769/posts/default/3041206154958098527'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1966733609602160769/posts/default/3041206154958098527'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cummal-bane.blogspot.com/2007/10/ever-feel-like-this.html' title='Ever feel like this?'/><author><name>Cummal Bane</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13074366409885058423</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_uFro3ZXR-uI/SLjgPv5K-ZI/AAAAAAAAAD0/9ozwDlF4HBg/S220/Pic_0011a.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1966733609602160769.post-4447285300206397862</id><published>2007-10-23T20:02:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2007-10-23T20:10:35.171+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Cloths of Heaven</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:sans-serif,Helvetia,Arial;font-size:130%;"  &gt;&lt;b&gt;He wishes for the cloths of heaven&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Had I the heavens' embroidered cloths,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Enwrought with golden and silver light,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;The blue and the dim and the dark cloths&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Of night and light and the half-light,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;I would spread the cloths under your feet:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;But I, being poor, have only my dreams;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;I have spread my dreams under your feet;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Tread softly, because you tread on my dreams.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;W B Yeats&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1966733609602160769-4447285300206397862?l=cummal-bane.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cummal-bane.blogspot.com/feeds/4447285300206397862/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1966733609602160769&amp;postID=4447285300206397862' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1966733609602160769/posts/default/4447285300206397862'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1966733609602160769/posts/default/4447285300206397862'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cummal-bane.blogspot.com/2007/10/he-wishes-for-cloths-of-heaven-had-i.html' title='Cloths of Heaven'/><author><name>Cummal Bane</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13074366409885058423</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_uFro3ZXR-uI/SLjgPv5K-ZI/AAAAAAAAAD0/9ozwDlF4HBg/S220/Pic_0011a.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1966733609602160769.post-7651534319642480187</id><published>2007-10-21T11:41:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2007-10-21T11:48:44.935+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Beer</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;What is it about beer?  It makes you drunk and wrecks the following day.  And yet, I find myself in the pub each Saturday drinking the stuff.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;Well a lot of it is explicable.  A survey of pub-going men found that drinking was quite a long way down the list of reasons that men go to the pub.  The main reason was to socialize.  I guess it is because it is still (mainly) a male dominated environment, where men can meet and relax.  I know that the Whitehouse (my local) is somewhere I go to relax and enjoy myself.  I do enjoy the beer, and sometimes I like a beer on my own.  However, I generally find that if I am drinking alone, I will have a couple and then leave.  When I am down on a Saturday night, I tend to stay longer and drink more, though I really will ahve to cut back a bit.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;I do enjoy trying the guest beers at the Whitehouse.  Last night, I was drinking one from Bolton.  To many people, beer is beer.  However, for lovers of real ale (such as myself), there is a lot of variety in beer.  This one was light and didn't taste too strong.  Another, such as the Spitting Feathers Old Wavertonian is a dark malty porter, and idea for a winter night (so why did the Creek have it on in the summer?  I must find out)  I like to try them all - some are one offs and some are regular beers.  I like my variety.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1966733609602160769-7651534319642480187?l=cummal-bane.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cummal-bane.blogspot.com/feeds/7651534319642480187/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1966733609602160769&amp;postID=7651534319642480187' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1966733609602160769/posts/default/7651534319642480187'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1966733609602160769/posts/default/7651534319642480187'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cummal-bane.blogspot.com/2007/10/beer.html' title='Beer'/><author><name>Cummal Bane</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13074366409885058423</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_uFro3ZXR-uI/SLjgPv5K-ZI/AAAAAAAAAD0/9ozwDlF4HBg/S220/Pic_0011a.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1966733609602160769.post-9198580732846276657</id><published>2007-10-16T21:02:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2007-10-21T11:39:56.836+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Cooildarry</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_uFro3ZXR-uI/RxUi-X7sQhI/AAAAAAAAABg/iN0B9FFsZQk/s1600-h/cd10.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_uFro3ZXR-uI/RxUi-X7sQhI/AAAAAAAAABg/iN0B9FFsZQk/s320/cd10.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5122038606175420946" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a style="font-family: arial;" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_uFro3ZXR-uI/RxUcM37sQfI/AAAAAAAAABQ/TRmaDkie7S0/s1600-h/cd02.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_uFro3ZXR-uI/RxUcM37sQfI/AAAAAAAAABQ/TRmaDkie7S0/s320/cd02.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5122031158702129650" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Cooildarry is a nature reserve just a few miles from here.  The lower part of the glen is a campsite, but the upper part is almost unknown.  I think in all the times I have been there, I have only ever twice seen anyone else there.  It seems virtually unknown, and not being a national glen, it is much wilder and less 'sanitized' (though the national glens can be pretty wild!)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Have you noticed that there are certain places that call to you?  Well Cooildarry is a place that calls to me.  I found out about it a few years ago, and went up there with my daughter.  I intended to walk it right through, but we spent the whole time sitting on the stones in the middle of the river and just enjoying the place.  Surely that says something about the place?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Anyway, on Sunday afternoon (after a somewhat over-indulgent night at the Whitehouse), I decided to go for a walk.  I did not know where to go, but decided to go to Cooildarry for the peace.  And I was right!  It was so peaceful.  Even the noise of cars on the TT course only served to emphasize the peace and quiet that was there.  And it was deserted.  Most of the time, the only sounds were of the river, the birds singing and the wind in the trees.  I spent a lot of time by the river, just listening to it.  &lt;/span&gt;  &lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;I walked right through the glen, even climbing on a path I had not followed before which led me up to the top of the glen.  The pictures were taken on Sunday, but they do not express the sense of peace.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1966733609602160769-9198580732846276657?l=cummal-bane.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cummal-bane.blogspot.com/feeds/9198580732846276657/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1966733609602160769&amp;postID=9198580732846276657' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1966733609602160769/posts/default/9198580732846276657'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1966733609602160769/posts/default/9198580732846276657'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cummal-bane.blogspot.com/2007/10/cooildarry.html' title='Cooildarry'/><author><name>Cummal Bane</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13074366409885058423</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_uFro3ZXR-uI/SLjgPv5K-ZI/AAAAAAAAAD0/9ozwDlF4HBg/S220/Pic_0011a.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_uFro3ZXR-uI/RxUi-X7sQhI/AAAAAAAAABg/iN0B9FFsZQk/s72-c/cd10.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1966733609602160769.post-225287958310454292</id><published>2007-10-13T22:58:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2007-10-16T21:50:18.357+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Every (under)dog has his day</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: justify; font-family: arial;"&gt;Ok - it wasn't expected.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There were 2 matches today that should have gone to the superior force.  In the Grand Final, St Helens were expected to beat Leeds.  And in the rugby world cup, France were expected to beat England.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And yet, after 4 hours of rugby, Saints had lost to Leeds. and France were playing on the 3rd place play-off.  This is the second Saturday of the underdogs, since England beat Austa#ralia and France beat New zealand last Saturday.  Will it last to next Saturday?  I hope so.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh and by the way, I finished work early so I could relax and enjoy these games.  Truly, the day of the underdog!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1966733609602160769-225287958310454292?l=cummal-bane.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cummal-bane.blogspot.com/feeds/225287958310454292/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1966733609602160769&amp;postID=225287958310454292' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1966733609602160769/posts/default/225287958310454292'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1966733609602160769/posts/default/225287958310454292'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cummal-bane.blogspot.com/2007/10/every-underdog-has-his-day.html' title='Every (under)dog has his day'/><author><name>Cummal Bane</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13074366409885058423</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_uFro3ZXR-uI/SLjgPv5K-ZI/AAAAAAAAAD0/9ozwDlF4HBg/S220/Pic_0011a.jpg'/></author><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1966733609602160769.post-7048896370784769452</id><published>2007-10-13T06:01:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2007-10-13T07:24:44.570+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Saturday</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: justify; font-family: arial;"&gt;4:30.  What is it about that time?  I think someone must be getting up and shutting a door or something, because that is when I seem to be waking.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It was a heavy week this week.  There was ticketing to do on Wednesday night, so I was in work until 9.  Then I was in at 8 on Thursday.  I finished at 3, but then had Tesco to do, so by the time I got home I was shattered.  I went to bed early to try and sleep, but it took me ages to drop off.  Then on Friday, 4:30 came and I was wide awake.  So last night, I thought I would try to fool myself.  I stayed up until 10:45, and read in bed until 11:15.  Alas, it was to no purpose.  4:30 and I was wide awake.  So I am now facing the prospect of a day in work with less than 12 hours sleep over the last 2 days.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And tiredness is cumulative.  The less you sleep, the tireder you get.  In my case, it sometimes seems that the tireder I get, the less I sleep, until I reach the point where I just crash comepletely.  If I am lucky, it is during my weekend off.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ok - so that is my moan.  I am off to work now...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1966733609602160769-7048896370784769452?l=cummal-bane.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cummal-bane.blogspot.com/feeds/7048896370784769452/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1966733609602160769&amp;postID=7048896370784769452' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1966733609602160769/posts/default/7048896370784769452'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1966733609602160769/posts/default/7048896370784769452'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cummal-bane.blogspot.com/2007/10/saturday.html' title='Saturday'/><author><name>Cummal Bane</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13074366409885058423</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_uFro3ZXR-uI/SLjgPv5K-ZI/AAAAAAAAAD0/9ozwDlF4HBg/S220/Pic_0011a.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1966733609602160769.post-4246488305856764796</id><published>2007-10-09T20:38:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2007-10-09T21:03:47.852+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Autumn has arrived</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;Yes autumn is here.  How can I tell?  When the sun no longer passes the chimney before going down behind the hill.  You haven't a clue what I am talking about?  Then let me explain...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;At the back of my house, the land drops away steeply to the valley floor.  About 300 yards away, the land rises steeply to form Peel Hill; an undulating ridge with a maximum height of about 500 feet.  Since the hill is west of the house, it means the sun goes down behind it before it sets.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;And the chimney?  At the bottom of the valley is a small industrial estate and a large diesel-powered power station.  The power station is a thing of ugliness and a misery to behold, and includes an almost unnoticeable 280 foot tall concrete chimney.  During the summer, the sun clears this with ease, but as autumn progresses, the sun drops lower, and the point at which it goes behind the chimney seems to drop with almost unbelievable rapidity.  I always count it as being autumn when the sun gores down behind the hill before getting round far enough to reach the chimney.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;And by the way - in the depths of winter, the sun does not even get high enough to go down behind the top of the hill, but disappears behind the side - and that IS depressing!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1966733609602160769-4246488305856764796?l=cummal-bane.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cummal-bane.blogspot.com/feeds/4246488305856764796/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1966733609602160769&amp;postID=4246488305856764796' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1966733609602160769/posts/default/4246488305856764796'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1966733609602160769/posts/default/4246488305856764796'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cummal-bane.blogspot.com/2007/10/autumn-has-arrived.html' title='Autumn has arrived'/><author><name>Cummal Bane</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13074366409885058423</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_uFro3ZXR-uI/SLjgPv5K-ZI/AAAAAAAAAD0/9ozwDlF4HBg/S220/Pic_0011a.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1966733609602160769.post-324427635538414910</id><published>2007-10-08T20:23:00.001+01:00</published><updated>2007-11-22T21:00:11.699Z</updated><title type='text'>The Drain</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;And for the benefit of any Londoners, I am not talking about the Waterloo and City line!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;I am talking about the way energy can seep out of you.  I had a reasonable (for me) night's sleep - getting to sleep at a reasonable time and waking up not too early.  But oh, the effort to get through the day.  Have you ever had a day when every effort feels like you are moving through tracle, and your mind seems so slow that you make mistakes while knowing that what you are doing is an error, yet you keep on until the mistake is complete?  Well, that was my day.  From mishandling a refund to allowing people to get my back up, it was a dismal day.  Even selling a suit to our &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;font-family:arial;" &gt;revered leader&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt; did not brighten my day.  If I was to say that the high spot was going out to buy little coloured stickers, you will understand what a day it was.  And the bus home?  I was nearly asleep not once but 4 times.  I got home and found my daughter was more interested in the TV and her new phone than in me (aren't teenagers wonderful?  If anyone wants to find out, I can let you have her for a few quid (I can't afford to give much more with her - sorry (I love brackets))).&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Actually, she is not too bad.  I sometimes think that the teenager bit is a role that she thinks she has to play in front of her mother.  Often when I get her alone, she seems much more attentive.  She is working hard and also rehearsing for the pantomime, in which she has a speaking part (which part, she will not tell).  The performance is in 5 weeks, so she is working hard at it.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Here's hoping for a better day tomorrow!  I always have so much to do on my day off, but I would like to get out and take some pictures if the weather is decent.  There are some lovely autumn colours, and I would like to capture them for the website.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1966733609602160769-324427635538414910?l=cummal-bane.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cummal-bane.blogspot.com/feeds/324427635538414910/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1966733609602160769&amp;postID=324427635538414910' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1966733609602160769/posts/default/324427635538414910'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1966733609602160769/posts/default/324427635538414910'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cummal-bane.blogspot.com/2007/10/drain.html' title='The Drain'/><author><name>Cummal Bane</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13074366409885058423</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_uFro3ZXR-uI/SLjgPv5K-ZI/AAAAAAAAAD0/9ozwDlF4HBg/S220/Pic_0011a.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1966733609602160769.post-4257272345563565453</id><published>2007-10-07T19:02:00.001+01:00</published><updated>2007-10-07T19:09:57.100+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Family</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;So tomorrow is the start of it for my dad.  After 77 years of not being in hospital, he has his pre-op appointment.  We are all hoping it goes well.  With his Alzheimer's, hew gets very confused, so mum is really worried about how he will be.  If he passes the pre-op, his operation is scheduled for a week Tuesday.  The surgeon has agreed to try and get him done first thing in the morning, so he can recuperate during the day and come home in the evening.  One of my brothers will be there with mum to make sure he is ok.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1966733609602160769-4257272345563565453?l=cummal-bane.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cummal-bane.blogspot.com/feeds/4257272345563565453/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1966733609602160769&amp;postID=4257272345563565453' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1966733609602160769/posts/default/4257272345563565453'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1966733609602160769/posts/default/4257272345563565453'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cummal-bane.blogspot.com/2007/10/family.html' title='Family'/><author><name>Cummal Bane</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13074366409885058423</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_uFro3ZXR-uI/SLjgPv5K-ZI/AAAAAAAAAD0/9ozwDlF4HBg/S220/Pic_0011a.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1966733609602160769.post-8133104934391144743</id><published>2007-10-07T00:27:00.001+01:00</published><updated>2007-10-07T19:21:35.489+01:00</updated><title type='text'>The Mhelliah</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: justify; font-family: arial;"&gt;For those of you without 'yn Gaelg' (the Gaelic), this is the Manx harvest home.  Now it has become a fund-raiser.  Tonight's was for the football club.  As the advert goes&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Bushmills Irish rugby shirt - £10&lt;br /&gt;Manx Electric Railway picture - £21&lt;br /&gt;Cordless electric screwdriver - £10&lt;br /&gt;Watching England beat Australia - priceless&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yes, I spent a lot tonight.  I got some bargains (the picture was priced at £25).  And the rugby shirt is a heavy one - will do me through the winter.  But the real shocks of the day were the line-up for the semi final in the rugby.  I think this is the firt time that both Australia and New Zealand have been going home after the quarter-final stages.  England face France next weekend.  If this continues, it will be a Scotland v Fiji semi-final as well!  What a day for the underdogs!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And the best part of the night?  Walking home at nearly midnight and seeing all the stars.  it was a perfect night for star-gazing - crisp, clear and still.  Not only were the constellations clear and easy to identify (Ursa Major and Cassiopeia  were the clearest) but it was also possible to see the opalescence of the Milky Way, which is very rare to see in a built up area.  Alas, there will soon be street lights in that part opf the road, as the relentless urge of local developers to build on any piece of land they can find continues, but it was lovely to enjoy it while I could.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1966733609602160769-8133104934391144743?l=cummal-bane.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cummal-bane.blogspot.com/feeds/8133104934391144743/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1966733609602160769&amp;postID=8133104934391144743' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1966733609602160769/posts/default/8133104934391144743'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1966733609602160769/posts/default/8133104934391144743'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cummal-bane.blogspot.com/2007/10/mhelliah.html' title='The Mhelliah'/><author><name>Cummal Bane</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13074366409885058423</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_uFro3ZXR-uI/SLjgPv5K-ZI/AAAAAAAAAD0/9ozwDlF4HBg/S220/Pic_0011a.jpg'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1966733609602160769.post-2866445755341380389</id><published>2007-10-06T09:32:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2007-10-06T10:08:56.797+01:00</updated><title type='text'>WAW II</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Well it is over.  Saturday has been reached, more or less in one piece.  And the silly thing is, it should not have been such a hard week.  All it was was my standard Monday to Friday 37 1/2 hours.  No late nights, no missed days off, no big events; just a standard week (in as much as any week there is standard)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Well, maybe there were a few things that affected it.  The cold that I picked up last week has been dragging me down, as a result I have felt very under par for the first few days.  When I was pocket searched on my way to the sales floor (they do random security checks), I had paracetamol in my pocket.  What I didn't know was that I was supposed to have the ok from my section manager to carry it.  Fortunately, she came downstairs after me and agreed that I was ok to carry tham.  Thank goodness for management support!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Well that dragged me down for the start of the week.  The rest of the week was just getting through each day.  I felt better by Thursday, apart from being worn out.  Put it this way, I was nearly asleep on the bus home a couple of nights.  it is a good thing I don't drive in!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;So now it is a sunny Saturday morning.  My towels are already washed and out drying, my uniform is in the wash and I am looking at a relaxing day.  Nothing to do except watch England lose at rugby.  It should be all over by 4 as I cannot see them beating Australia in their current form.  I was surprised they qualified from the pool stages!  Oh well.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1966733609602160769-2866445755341380389?l=cummal-bane.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cummal-bane.blogspot.com/feeds/2866445755341380389/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1966733609602160769&amp;postID=2866445755341380389' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1966733609602160769/posts/default/2866445755341380389'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1966733609602160769/posts/default/2866445755341380389'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cummal-bane.blogspot.com/2007/10/waw-ii.html' title='WAW II'/><author><name>Cummal Bane</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13074366409885058423</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_uFro3ZXR-uI/SLjgPv5K-ZI/AAAAAAAAAD0/9ozwDlF4HBg/S220/Pic_0011a.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1966733609602160769.post-6633759564223348907</id><published>2007-09-30T14:54:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2007-10-06T09:47:06.745+01:00</updated><title type='text'>How many socks make 5?</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Oh joy of joys - it is time for the half-yearly stocktake.  For those of you not familiar with retail, this consists of counting everything that is in the shop, so that a value can be put on the stock in the shop.  As a result of this, the shop was full of people counting and recounting everything.  I was lucky, and I got socks, underwear and nightwear to count (all under the heading of 'Essentials', though for me, nightwear is very much an option, as the only pair of pyjamas I own was last worn when I was in hospital - but enough of me).&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Generally stocktake starts off in almost complete silence, as it can be very distrating when you are sounting to hear someone else counting.  When I started, they were still putting out the stocktake sheets, and since they are all numbered, the managers putting them out were recording the numbers to check them.  I think I ended up having to count one rail 6 times before I was sure I ahd it right - I would get to 5 and then the managers would say a sheet number (such as 541, and I would have to think 'was that 6, 5, 4 or 1 that I counted to?', and so would have to start again.  And with nearly all of us having done a part day before hand, which was surprisingly busy, we were not really in the best of frames of mind.  So all in all, not the most exciting Saturday night I have ever spent.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;And on top of that, there was the temperature in the store.  I think they have switched over to the winter heating, which was fine earlier in the week (we did a fine trade in thick coats earlier on when the weather was decidedly nippy) but with it getting milder, we were basically sweating cobs.  As I drove home after finishing work, I had just my shirt on and the window open, and it was over 15 minutes before I started feeling cold.  I got home, put my uniform into the wash and had a shower, but even then, it was over an hour before I had wound down enough to think about bed.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;I am glad I said I wasn't going in this morning.  Itis my only day off, and I did not want to get up and be in work for 8.  As it turned out, I didn't wake up until nearly 8:30, so I would have been late anyway.  I am spending a relaxing day at home, though I have had to iron, and will probably end up sorting papers or sewing.  There is rugby on at 4 (there is some on now but I am not really interested in this match), but Ireland play Argentina at 4 and I want to see that.  I will have a late lunch/early dinner while that is on.  What do you call a meal halfway between lunch and dinner?  I know between breakfast and lunch you have brunch, so am I having linner or dunch?  If anyone knows, please can they let me know?  Thank you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And somewhere soon I need to get going on my sewing.  I have a commission to finish before Christmas, and I really must get down to finishing it.  The trouble is, I have so many other things I would like to do instead of that one - but I can do some of it while I am watching the rugby this afternoon.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1966733609602160769-6633759564223348907?l=cummal-bane.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cummal-bane.blogspot.com/feeds/6633759564223348907/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1966733609602160769&amp;postID=6633759564223348907' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1966733609602160769/posts/default/6633759564223348907'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1966733609602160769/posts/default/6633759564223348907'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cummal-bane.blogspot.com/2007/09/how-many-socks-make-5.html' title='How many socks make 5?'/><author><name>Cummal Bane</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13074366409885058423</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_uFro3ZXR-uI/SLjgPv5K-ZI/AAAAAAAAAD0/9ozwDlF4HBg/S220/Pic_0011a.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1966733609602160769.post-9207854406457584419</id><published>2007-09-25T09:12:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2007-09-25T09:30:31.718+01:00</updated><title type='text'>If you can't say something nice...</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: justify; font-family: arial;"&gt;Don't say anything.  I was taught that and it seems like a good rule in life.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So why do people think that the web is different from real life?  Just because it is a different and new(ish) medium, some people think that all rules are suspended.  Especially in the world of blogging, where people can leave comments under a pseudonym, and feel they can say what they like and not be found out.  What they forget though is that an anonymous comment can hurt just as much as a real one - sometimes more, since it can come from a stranger.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What has caused this outburst?  Well Jamie who started me blogging has been receiving hurtful comments on her blog.  Comments from someone she trusted.  Why should anyone feel they can say something like that?  And to say it in public on a blog - not even saying it one to one in private.  Someone like that, who knows her circumstances, should understand that she needs support not tearing down like that.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So may I make a request?  If you want to comment on this blog, feel free.  However, please keep it legal, decent, truthful and honest.  Thank you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And thus endeth the rant for today&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1966733609602160769-9207854406457584419?l=cummal-bane.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cummal-bane.blogspot.com/feeds/9207854406457584419/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1966733609602160769&amp;postID=9207854406457584419' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1966733609602160769/posts/default/9207854406457584419'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1966733609602160769/posts/default/9207854406457584419'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cummal-bane.blogspot.com/2007/09/if-you-cant-say-something-nice.html' title='If you can&apos;t say something nice...'/><author><name>Cummal Bane</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13074366409885058423</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_uFro3ZXR-uI/SLjgPv5K-ZI/AAAAAAAAAD0/9ozwDlF4HBg/S220/Pic_0011a.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1966733609602160769.post-403383675458066272</id><published>2007-09-23T21:43:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2007-09-23T21:50:13.654+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Where did my holiday go?</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: justify; font-family: arial;"&gt;I think there is some sort of time warp around here.  I am sure you must have noticed it.  Ten days ago, I was looking forward to my holiday.  Now, suddenly, it has gone.  Did anyone see it?  I am sure I must have had it, as I remember some good times, but looking back it seems no time at all since I was at work.  And tomorrow I am back in work again.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As I said, back to the grind.  To be honest, I am not that down about going back - I have done most of the things I wanted to do, like spending time with my parents.  Ok, so the house is a mess and I could usefully spend a couple of days getting it sorted (and maybe, finding the book I bought while I was away).  But the problem with holidays is that you never want to do the things that have to be done.  I will probably do more next Sunday on my single day off than I have done on the whole weekend that is just finishing.  I am like that.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Just had my daughter here.  She was using my PC because it has software that is not on hers.  It is good to see her - even if it is just for a few minutes.  And I think I helped her get done some of what she needed to do.  And it makes me feel that I still am some use to her, apart from being a taxi service and cash dispenser.  Though to be fair to her, she does not usually ask for money.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ok - I had better head for bed.  See you all soon I hope!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1966733609602160769-403383675458066272?l=cummal-bane.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cummal-bane.blogspot.com/feeds/403383675458066272/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1966733609602160769&amp;postID=403383675458066272' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1966733609602160769/posts/default/403383675458066272'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1966733609602160769/posts/default/403383675458066272'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cummal-bane.blogspot.com/2007/09/where-did-my-holiday-go.html' title='Where did my holiday go?'/><author><name>Cummal Bane</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13074366409885058423</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_uFro3ZXR-uI/SLjgPv5K-ZI/AAAAAAAAAD0/9ozwDlF4HBg/S220/Pic_0011a.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1966733609602160769.post-6162305276993220936</id><published>2007-09-20T20:43:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2007-09-20T21:06:26.679+01:00</updated><title type='text'>The wanderer returns</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;Yes here I am again.  Have I really been gone a week?  I guess I must have been having fun, since they say that is what makes time fly.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;It was a a rough time for me.  Dad is not good, and obviously that affected me.  Mum is so worn out from looking after him.  I really do take my hat off to her.  My sister and brothers do what they can, but she has to put up with it every day.  He will come and talk at you, almost as if he just wants the company.  Time is an obsession with him, making sure his watch is just so and checking that everyone else has a watch telling them the same time as his.  We were watching a rugby match together on TV, and I had to continually remind him who was playing.  It is heartbreaking.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;And yet, when things connected, it was quite like old times.  We managed some lovely walks, including one I had not done before.  Walking through a long established wood made me realise how little woodland we have like that here.  The island was largely deforested and most of the woodland is fairly new, and lacks that 'timeless' quality that an old woodland has.  And since a lot of our deciduous woodland is in the glens, there is always the noise of water; a beautiful sound but it takes away that special sort of silence in a wood, when the old leaves absorb the sound and the birds and the faint rustling of the branches are the only sounds you can hear.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1966733609602160769-6162305276993220936?l=cummal-bane.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cummal-bane.blogspot.com/feeds/6162305276993220936/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1966733609602160769&amp;postID=6162305276993220936' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1966733609602160769/posts/default/6162305276993220936'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1966733609602160769/posts/default/6162305276993220936'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cummal-bane.blogspot.com/2007/09/wanderer-returns.html' title='The wanderer returns'/><author><name>Cummal Bane</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13074366409885058423</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_uFro3ZXR-uI/SLjgPv5K-ZI/AAAAAAAAAD0/9ozwDlF4HBg/S220/Pic_0011a.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1966733609602160769.post-8530307834148310857</id><published>2007-09-11T20:35:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2007-09-11T20:44:11.495+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Me and my big mouth</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;Will I never learn to keep my trap shut?  Yet again, me eagerness to be helpful has landed me with doing more than I expected.  And this is the 3rd time in 3 weeks - I need to learn!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;Basically, it all came out of the shortage of staff.  We had our &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic; font-family: arial;"&gt;revered leader&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt; telling us this morning that they are trying to recruit staff, but that has not filtered down to the day-to-day that we need.  I was due to leave at 4:30, but our section coordinator had to go to the  dentist, which left 2 people there until 6.  So, step forward the Fool - "would you like me to stay?"  And once again, it was accepted, proving that I am as daft as I look, if not dafter!  8 until 6 - and I even skimped on my breaks as well so that I did not keep someone after 4.  The only good news is that I now have 2 short days to go until I go on holiday.  I am more than ready for it!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;Well as they say, there is no fool like an old fool - so no wonder I feel old!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1966733609602160769-8530307834148310857?l=cummal-bane.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cummal-bane.blogspot.com/feeds/8530307834148310857/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1966733609602160769&amp;postID=8530307834148310857' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1966733609602160769/posts/default/8530307834148310857'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1966733609602160769/posts/default/8530307834148310857'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cummal-bane.blogspot.com/2007/09/me-and-my-big-mouth.html' title='Me and my big mouth'/><author><name>Cummal Bane</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13074366409885058423</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_uFro3ZXR-uI/SLjgPv5K-ZI/AAAAAAAAAD0/9ozwDlF4HBg/S220/Pic_0011a.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1966733609602160769.post-892866301779132845</id><published>2007-09-10T20:18:00.001+01:00</published><updated>2007-09-20T21:11:05.050+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Technology - a good servant but a bad master</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;I don't know what it is, but technology has had myself and 2 people I know in real frustration recently.  I just hope that it is true that bad things come in 3s, and that is it.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Firstly me.  I was trying to put some music onto my phone to use it as an MP3 player (which is part of its design).  I followed the manual and used the software provided.  I could hear my voice getting shriller and shriller as I tried to explain to the computer that the phone could not be connected in one program and not connected in another.  Eventually I gave up and went to bed.  This morning I was able to load the music by totally ignoring the software and doing it in a completely different way.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Then there was J.  A simple de-installation of a program that was no longer needed - what could possibly go wrong?  Well, in this case, plenty!  Not only did it remove the program, it also corrupted their MS Word and virus checker, as well as messing up the internet connection.  Even going back to restrore points did not correct the problem, so it is off to the repair shop tomorrow.  Fun huh?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;And finally, there was T.  She works part time and uses her computer all day.  Due to finish at 2:30 today, she was hanging around for the engineer to sort out her computer until well after that.  That caused her to miss a very important phone call, so she was really upset as well.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Computers - don't you just love 'em?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1966733609602160769-892866301779132845?l=cummal-bane.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cummal-bane.blogspot.com/feeds/892866301779132845/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1966733609602160769&amp;postID=892866301779132845' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1966733609602160769/posts/default/892866301779132845'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1966733609602160769/posts/default/892866301779132845'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cummal-bane.blogspot.com/2007/09/technology-good-servant-but-bad-master.html' title='Technology - a good servant but a bad master'/><author><name>Cummal Bane</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13074366409885058423</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_uFro3ZXR-uI/SLjgPv5K-ZI/AAAAAAAAAD0/9ozwDlF4HBg/S220/Pic_0011a.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1966733609602160769.post-6215105110204266879</id><published>2007-09-08T08:15:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2007-09-08T08:58:34.951+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Waking</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;Isn't it funny how the body reacts to things?  Take a sudden awakening for example.  During the week, when I am woken by my alarm clock, I am so tired and can just fall back to sleep (and my alarm clock has no snooze facility so I have to get up straight away!)  And yet last night I was woken by a phone call - and could I get back to sleep?  A friend needed to talk but when we had finished it took me ages to drop off again - and I do mean ages!  We got off the phone about 1:15 and it was going on 3 when I finally dropped off.  So my restful weekend is not going well at all so far.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;However, I did have a good evening last night.  I went out for a drink with someone from the Interior Design course that I did earlier in the year, and we ended up talking for about 2 hours.  And it was not idle chat - we talked about work, home, family and quite a few other things (including the legal way to serve beer in Australia! (she is Australian (as you can see I like brackets!)))&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1966733609602160769-6215105110204266879?l=cummal-bane.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cummal-bane.blogspot.com/feeds/6215105110204266879/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1966733609602160769&amp;postID=6215105110204266879' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1966733609602160769/posts/default/6215105110204266879'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1966733609602160769/posts/default/6215105110204266879'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cummal-bane.blogspot.com/2007/09/waking.html' title='Waking'/><author><name>Cummal Bane</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13074366409885058423</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_uFro3ZXR-uI/SLjgPv5K-ZI/AAAAAAAAAD0/9ozwDlF4HBg/S220/Pic_0011a.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1966733609602160769.post-4729879941544592496</id><published>2007-09-07T10:37:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2007-09-07T10:51:23.113+01:00</updated><title type='text'>I made it!</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;In one piece (well - more or less!)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;So this is Friday.  I slept late (for a change) and woke up full of energy and enthusiasm (how can you tell I am not going to work today?)  I tidied up my clothes and did some laundry - and then it sort of fizzled out.  I sat down at the PC and sort of never got up again, apart from making more cups of coffee.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;Yesterday was a strange day.  I could see 5pm closing in on me, and I was nearly there when I realised there would be a shortage of staff.  So what did I do?  Fool that I am, I volunteered to stay for an extra hour!  I am a sucker for a hard luck story.  But I hope it will show that I am willing to be flexible, which cannot be bad (I hope!)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;And I am also going to be a BIG man at work!  I have been co-opted onto the Business Involvement Group to replace someone who has left the company.  I am not quite sure what it will ionvolve, but time will tell as they say.  I stood during the elections but was unsuccessfull.  As Di said, it was a pity that the elections finished as they did, as the three candidates who seemed really passionate about it were the three who missed out.  I checked if it would put anyone else out, but was told I had been offered the post as there was noone else from Menswear.  So we will see what becomes of it.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: arial;"&gt;And now it is off to Tesco for my groceries - what a thrill-a-minute life I lead!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1966733609602160769-4729879941544592496?l=cummal-bane.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cummal-bane.blogspot.com/feeds/4729879941544592496/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1966733609602160769&amp;postID=4729879941544592496' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1966733609602160769/posts/default/4729879941544592496'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1966733609602160769/posts/default/4729879941544592496'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cummal-bane.blogspot.com/2007/09/i-made-it.html' title='I made it!'/><author><name>Cummal Bane</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13074366409885058423</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_uFro3ZXR-uI/SLjgPv5K-ZI/AAAAAAAAAD0/9ozwDlF4HBg/S220/Pic_0011a.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1966733609602160769.post-2882585970580666072</id><published>2007-09-06T07:21:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2007-09-07T21:28:42.523+01:00</updated><title type='text'>4 o'clock in the morning</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: justify; font-family: arial;"&gt;4 o’clock in the morning&lt;br /&gt;Is the worst time to wake&lt;br /&gt;Lying there;&lt;br /&gt;   Body half asleep,&lt;br /&gt;   Mind wide awake.&lt;br /&gt;Watching the dawnlight seep around the blinds.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;4 o’clock in the morning&lt;br /&gt;Is when the fears come out;&lt;br /&gt;When your will is weakest,&lt;br /&gt;   The future darkest,&lt;br /&gt;   Prospects bleakest.&lt;br /&gt;Faith and hope seem so distant.&lt;br /&gt;Fear sinks its claws in,&lt;br /&gt;Doubt eats you away.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;4 o’clock in the morning&lt;br /&gt;Hides your weapons.&lt;br /&gt;Leaves you naked,&lt;br /&gt;   Helpless,&lt;br /&gt;   Defenceless.&lt;br /&gt;Open to the monsters of fear and doubt.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;4 o’clock in the morning,&lt;br /&gt;At its worst,&lt;br /&gt;Can last all day.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1966733609602160769-2882585970580666072?l=cummal-bane.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cummal-bane.blogspot.com/feeds/2882585970580666072/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1966733609602160769&amp;postID=2882585970580666072' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1966733609602160769/posts/default/2882585970580666072'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1966733609602160769/posts/default/2882585970580666072'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cummal-bane.blogspot.com/2007/09/4-oclock-in-morning.html' title='4 o&apos;clock in the morning'/><author><name>Cummal Bane</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13074366409885058423</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_uFro3ZXR-uI/SLjgPv5K-ZI/AAAAAAAAAD0/9ozwDlF4HBg/S220/Pic_0011a.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1966733609602160769.post-3060189408134386554</id><published>2007-09-05T07:26:00.001+01:00</published><updated>2007-09-05T21:36:28.069+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Thank goodness for the clouds!</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Isn't it strange how you can come to appreciate the little things?  And how your opinion of them can change?  Normally in the summer I look for blue skies and clear nights to see the stars.  This morning I am so grateful for the clouds that hid the moon from me so i wasn't woken at 5am as I have been for the last few days.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;And here we are on my 8th straight day in work.  2 more to go - and tomorrow is a slightly shorter day (9 to 5).  So it is only 14 1/2 hours left to work - not that I am counting!  Yesterday I found particularly stressful.  We had a massive delivery (most of it for my department) and with no manager or section coordinator, we were really short handed.  By the end of the day, Iw as so worn out emotionally and physically that I had to hide in the fitting room.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;And so to this morning.  I have been messing around with my website, and have changed the side menu to scroll so that people with small screens can see the bottom of it.  What do you mean, you didn't know I had a website?  Ok, I have added it to the links on the  side, but it doesn't work.  Click &lt;a href="http://homepages.manx.net/nikwhite/"&gt;here&lt;/a&gt; to go and have a look.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;In the meantime, I had better go and catch my bus.  Here's hoping we all have a better day!  TTFN!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1966733609602160769-3060189408134386554?l=cummal-bane.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cummal-bane.blogspot.com/feeds/3060189408134386554/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1966733609602160769&amp;postID=3060189408134386554' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1966733609602160769/posts/default/3060189408134386554'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1966733609602160769/posts/default/3060189408134386554'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cummal-bane.blogspot.com/2007/09/thank-goodness-for-clouds.html' title='Thank goodness for the clouds!'/><author><name>Cummal Bane</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13074366409885058423</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_uFro3ZXR-uI/SLjgPv5K-ZI/AAAAAAAAAD0/9ozwDlF4HBg/S220/Pic_0011a.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1966733609602160769.post-8073884922965472189</id><published>2007-09-04T07:22:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2007-09-25T21:19:34.997+01:00</updated><title type='text'>The moon is made of green cheese?</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: justify;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Well if it is, then it is very shiny cheese!  It woke me this morning peeping round the blind.  And it is only a half moon - usually it is the full moon that wakes me.  The clear weather is nice but it is getting nippier - it feels like autumn is on the way.  I managed to get all my washing dry yesterday while I was at work which was a bonus.  I would change the bed today but the forecast is for rain so it will probably be done tomorrow when the forecast is better.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Oh well - day 7 of 9.  I hope it goes ok.  The last few days have been pretty quick, but today and tomorrow I work until 6 and the last hour usually drags.  Oh well, I will just have to hang on until Thursday.  We are still without a manager, so we are pretty much running ourselves, and everything is going ok.  What will happen while I am off?  Who knows?  I certainly don't!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Ok - time to eat up and go, alas.  Goodbye PC&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1966733609602160769-8073884922965472189?l=cummal-bane.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://cummal-bane.blogspot.com/feeds/8073884922965472189/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1966733609602160769&amp;postID=8073884922965472189' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1966733609602160769/posts/default/8073884922965472189'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1966733609602160769/posts/default/8073884922965472189'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://cummal-bane.blogspot.com/2007/09/moon-is-made-of-green-cheese.html' title='The moon is made of green cheese?'/><author><name>Cummal Bane</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13074366409885058423</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_uFro3ZXR-uI/SLjgPv5K-ZI/AAAAAAAAAD0/9ozwDlF4HBg/S220/Pic_0011a.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry></feed>
