The Heelers Diaries
the fantasy world of ireland's greatest living poet
About Me
- Name: heelers
- Location: Kilcullen (Phone 087 7790766), County Kildare, Ireland
Saturday, June 24, 2006
From the back garden...
Another pic from last night. This is a still from footage taken in the back garden by the Dad before joining me at the upstairs window where most of the footage was shot. (It is a motion capture from the video as seen on our television.) There are five objects on the screen which are not lights. These are clothes pegs on our clothes line which you can also just make out. The lights in the sky are on the left hand side of the picture. There are six of them. Two very close together. The cloudy effect in the centre of the screen is a tree. The leaves of another tree are visible downward to the left of the lights. I'll print a few more photos over the coming days so you can compare them. I saw no lights tonight.
Friday, June 23, 2006
What Did We See...
At 2.2o am, this morning of Friday 26 June, the Dad called me out to the back garden. He'd been locking Paddy Pup in his shed.
"Look at those," said the Dad pointing at the sky.
There were three lights some distance away.
Could have been half a mile. Could have been twenty miles.
One winked out.
Two more came on.
"Get your video camera," sez I.
I went upstairs and opened a window.
I could now see four lights.
Bright. Steady in the sky.
The Dad joined me at the upstairs window.
There were now six lights.
Some winked off.
Others winked on.
We talked out loud about what we were filming.
"Fireworks?" sez I.
"No," said the Dad.
"Something fastened to an electricity pylon," sez I.
"No," said the Dad.
"Helicopters," sez I.
"No," said the Dad.
What we were looking at, clearly was none of these things.
On two occasions the lights showed signs of motion, gently dropping in the sky before extinguishing.
We filmed on.
I talked aloud about bringing the tape to the international news networks.
For 45 minutes the lights winked on and off in this corner of the sky. We could see the line of the Wicklow mountains outlined underneath.
What on God's earth did we see?
"Look at those," said the Dad pointing at the sky.
There were three lights some distance away.
Could have been half a mile. Could have been twenty miles.
One winked out.
Two more came on.
"Get your video camera," sez I.
I went upstairs and opened a window.
I could now see four lights.
Bright. Steady in the sky.
The Dad joined me at the upstairs window.
There were now six lights.
Some winked off.
Others winked on.
We talked out loud about what we were filming.
"Fireworks?" sez I.
"No," said the Dad.
"Something fastened to an electricity pylon," sez I.
"No," said the Dad.
"Helicopters," sez I.
"No," said the Dad.
What we were looking at, clearly was none of these things.
On two occasions the lights showed signs of motion, gently dropping in the sky before extinguishing.
We filmed on.
I talked aloud about bringing the tape to the international news networks.
For 45 minutes the lights winked on and off in this corner of the sky. We could see the line of the Wicklow mountains outlined underneath.
What on God's earth did we see?
Thursday, June 22, 2006
night and wind and stars
A picture by American artist Tina Massie who spent many years living among the Greek islands.
You can find out more about her at www.tina.soundings.ac
Check out her poem Refugees...
Wednesday, June 21, 2006
Dublined in the afternoon. The city swept by Summer rain. Strolled through streets diamond wet. Ah life you bauble, come to me.
Italian lesson with villainy Angela.
She is still the most beautiful girl I know.
And as always I trust her as I would adders fanged.
Well you know.
We had a new plot twist this afternoon. Over the course of the lesson Angela mentioned her boyfriend no less than eight times.
Just slipped him into the conversation as if butter wouldn't melt in her mouth.
"My boyfriend loves the world cup." "My boyfriend voted communist in the Italian election." Et cetera, et cetera and so on ad infi blooming nitum.
Once would have been a signal.
Eight was like bludgeoning me to death.
Subtle it wasn't.
I've known Signorina Angela for a year. No previous mention of Ruddigore.
And now eight mentions in an hour.
What does this mean?
Perhaps she's no longer trying to get her hands on the Heelers fortune.
Or could it be a double bluff? Could she be trying a new approach to get me to lower my defences?
Or what if it's a triple cross? What is she's seen this website?
Italian lesson with villainy Angela.
She is still the most beautiful girl I know.
And as always I trust her as I would adders fanged.
Well you know.
We had a new plot twist this afternoon. Over the course of the lesson Angela mentioned her boyfriend no less than eight times.
Just slipped him into the conversation as if butter wouldn't melt in her mouth.
"My boyfriend loves the world cup." "My boyfriend voted communist in the Italian election." Et cetera, et cetera and so on ad infi blooming nitum.
Once would have been a signal.
Eight was like bludgeoning me to death.
Subtle it wasn't.
I've known Signorina Angela for a year. No previous mention of Ruddigore.
And now eight mentions in an hour.
What does this mean?
Perhaps she's no longer trying to get her hands on the Heelers fortune.
Or could it be a double bluff? Could she be trying a new approach to get me to lower my defences?
Or what if it's a triple cross? What is she's seen this website?
Tuesday, June 20, 2006
in the urban jungle
Strolling with the Hippy Chick through Dublin.
Trying to hold in my pot belly. Bloody impossible. It insists on hanging out there.
The Hippy Chick is so delicately built that beside her my own features seem even more rough hewn than ever.
Presently Rowena demands to know why I keep squirming.
"It's my belly," I confess frankly. "I'm trying to hold it in."
She is genuinely touched.
"You don't have to do that for me," she says with a hint of tenderness. "I love you just the way you are."
The noble Heelers faces her.
"I'm not doing it for you," I whisper. "There's two sexy Japanese girls walking behind us."
Rowena is less amused by this remark than you might expect.
With some elan and no little strength she directs a punch into my pot belly.
"What was that for?" crieth me.
"Don't push it," answereth she.
If I've learnt anything in life, I've learnt not to push it when this lady tells me not to push it.
That and not to rush off drawing cartoons without consulting Medbh Gillard every time an idea pops into my head.
Such wisdom only comes with time...
Trying to hold in my pot belly. Bloody impossible. It insists on hanging out there.
The Hippy Chick is so delicately built that beside her my own features seem even more rough hewn than ever.
Presently Rowena demands to know why I keep squirming.
"It's my belly," I confess frankly. "I'm trying to hold it in."
She is genuinely touched.
"You don't have to do that for me," she says with a hint of tenderness. "I love you just the way you are."
The noble Heelers faces her.
"I'm not doing it for you," I whisper. "There's two sexy Japanese girls walking behind us."
Rowena is less amused by this remark than you might expect.
With some elan and no little strength she directs a punch into my pot belly.
"What was that for?" crieth me.
"Don't push it," answereth she.
If I've learnt anything in life, I've learnt not to push it when this lady tells me not to push it.
That and not to rush off drawing cartoons without consulting Medbh Gillard every time an idea pops into my head.
Such wisdom only comes with time...