Thunderstorms and rain.....

Thunderstorms and heavy rain kept me and a dozen other shoppers in Savers for half an hour yesterday. There is no umbrella known to man that could protect against such a torrent of bad weather. We did finally escape onto the nearly finished nearly white pavements which have bought light and space to Newry high street.I met up with Baz and had a lovely home cooked breakfast in 'The Shelbourne.' We both agreed that it was delicious. Eventually i meet up with Baz again at Sainsbury's. He'd been to see a film with Abraham Lincoln in the title and walked out after an hour.'Just to boring' he mumbled. So we did a big shop, jumped in the car, and headed back to Drogheda amidst swathes of sunshine. Italy beat Germany which was a big surprise but well deserved. They made the Germans look static. Could Italy beat Spain on Sunday? Will the rain in Spain stay mainly on the plain? And will this dreadful humidity eventually melt away? I'll write again tomorrow. GFJJFT2XGVX5

Newry....

Weather looks threatening.... heavy clouds and fairly humid. Baz seems to have recovered from the overdose he took on Monday and he intends to come with me. He's still in bed though. The strange world of an addict! Nothing rhymes! I haven't coughed yet so hoping my chesty condition is on the way out. We'll have to make it back in time for Germany vs Italy though. Really enjoyed Portugal vs Spain last night. So we're off to see the wizard.

Phew!!! It ain't 'alf hot mum.

Humid it is. The cats sprawled out on the front patio. All the windows are open. We've just polished off two tubs of ice cream. And tomorrow we are heading for Newry. See you tomorrow.

We've Only Just Begun....

‘We’ve only just begun’, although a guilty pleasure originally sang by ‘The Carpenters’ - sums up my feelings about the 70’s just as much now as it did back then when I inhabited them. There was money, love and romance, endless possibility, and the possession of fearless innocence. What ever happened to the fearless innocence bit? Or come to think of it, the love and romance, the money or the endless possibilities. The reason for my questions? Well I’ve just finished watching Dominic Sandbrook’s BBC documentary ‘The 70’s’. An immersive, enjoyable, nostalgic reminder of just how different the world is today, and just how different I and every one I know have become. Where did it all go wrong? Watching the programme, broadcast on BBC2, made me realise just how many events I’d forgotten I’d forgotten about. The Specials, the strikes, the winter of discontent, Thatcher and the Royal Festival Hall, all included - the Royal Festival Hall segment in particular retrieving a copy of the Daily Mirror from my subconscious mind - Its front page, a picture of my father filling up most of it, an image I hadn’t recalled in at least 45 years. Other events featured remain strangely fuzzy, perhaps because I was so caught up in my own life at the time that my self indulgent busyness had simply faded them into a back drop to the main event. Me! Just back from America, freshly divorced, it wasn’t long before I had immersed myself in an intense relationship with a Columbian artist who seemed to spend all her time challenging my beliefs. Passionate, yes, expensive, most definitely, but such hard work I’d often forget which day it was. No wonder I didn’t notice then - and still can’t remember now - those wretched strikes. But Mike Oldfield’s ‘Tubular Bells’ remains familiar - an undeniable soundtrack to the70’s. It used to chime on the hour every hour from the radio I had perched at the back of the shop I used to run in Soho. There’s a multi story car park there now. Alas ‘Curious Cargo’ is no more, but thanks Dominic for bringing it all back to me.