the last minute rush
Staggered out of bed around midday on Christmas Eve.
Things to do. People to see.
How should I put this.
No presents bought for the immediate family.
Or for anyone else.
I've a few books in stock I might be able to pass off on the brothers.
But that's it.
As far as leaving things until the last minute goes, this is a new world record.
"Well God," I murmured as I wandered up the hall. "Time for a Christmas miracle."
Found the Mammy in the kitchen, coughing and sneezing.
She is not a patient patient.
"Wipe that scared look off your face," she barked between coughs.
I had been trying to look concerned gentle readers.
It's a part of my good son routine.
Go figure.
While I put on the kettle, the Mammy pushed two newish looking purses across the table.
"Take those," she said. "I got them as presents last night. You can give them to some of your friends. I don't want them. I have enough purses."
What an odd bit of luck bold readers.
I was due to meet two Spanishies for coffee in the afternoon. Plus a Korean.
At least I'd have pressies for the Spanishies.
Quick cup of tea with the coughing Mammy.
Enter the Dad.
"Take this," he said proffering a book token for fifty quid. "I probably won't get a chance to use it."
Once more thanking my lucky stars, I bid the parents adieu and set out on the road of life.
Quick coffee with Cristina and Saray.
One purse for each.
Excellent.
They almost believe I'm a warm considerate caring human being.
Ah, come into my parlour my pretties.
Anyhoo.
Adieu Spanishies.
Quick skite to Kilcullen post office to send off two parcels, five letters, and twenty three cards.
The post mistress asked did I want to pay 50 pence extra for the two parcels to ensure they wouldn't go astray.
I said: "Nah. Those are for Sister Lelia and Sister Gemma in the convent. I reckon God will keep an eye on them."
On the street I meet Lin Thok from the local Chinese restaurant who presents me with a traditional wooden oriental wall calendar.
Moments later I rendezvous with Young Ran, the Korean for a yet another coffee on the run.
Of course I gift her with a traditional oriental wall calendar.
She is suitably grateful.
I'm starting to get good at this.
Then I drive to the town of Naas to purchase tomes for various family members, courtesy of the Dad's book token.
I toy with the idea of buying my brother Peter a Koran.
Pete is a priest.
The Koran costs 35 Euro.
The joke of giving him a Koran merely to see the look on his face, is just not worth that amount of money.
And with my budget I can't afford the indulgence.
I buy an armful of cheaper books.
That's most of the family taken care of.
At least they'll get something.
But what to get the parents.
It's 4 in the evening.
Everywhere is closing down.
I meet the artist Josephine Hardiman for coffee.
My last rendezvous of the day.
She presents me with a painting.
I kid you not.
So that's the parents taken care of.
I'm back home as darkness rolls in.
Truly I've been blessed.
Things to do. People to see.
How should I put this.
No presents bought for the immediate family.
Or for anyone else.
I've a few books in stock I might be able to pass off on the brothers.
But that's it.
As far as leaving things until the last minute goes, this is a new world record.
"Well God," I murmured as I wandered up the hall. "Time for a Christmas miracle."
Found the Mammy in the kitchen, coughing and sneezing.
She is not a patient patient.
"Wipe that scared look off your face," she barked between coughs.
I had been trying to look concerned gentle readers.
It's a part of my good son routine.
Go figure.
While I put on the kettle, the Mammy pushed two newish looking purses across the table.
"Take those," she said. "I got them as presents last night. You can give them to some of your friends. I don't want them. I have enough purses."
What an odd bit of luck bold readers.
I was due to meet two Spanishies for coffee in the afternoon. Plus a Korean.
At least I'd have pressies for the Spanishies.
Quick cup of tea with the coughing Mammy.
Enter the Dad.
"Take this," he said proffering a book token for fifty quid. "I probably won't get a chance to use it."
Once more thanking my lucky stars, I bid the parents adieu and set out on the road of life.
Quick coffee with Cristina and Saray.
One purse for each.
Excellent.
They almost believe I'm a warm considerate caring human being.
Ah, come into my parlour my pretties.
Anyhoo.
Adieu Spanishies.
Quick skite to Kilcullen post office to send off two parcels, five letters, and twenty three cards.
The post mistress asked did I want to pay 50 pence extra for the two parcels to ensure they wouldn't go astray.
I said: "Nah. Those are for Sister Lelia and Sister Gemma in the convent. I reckon God will keep an eye on them."
On the street I meet Lin Thok from the local Chinese restaurant who presents me with a traditional wooden oriental wall calendar.
Moments later I rendezvous with Young Ran, the Korean for a yet another coffee on the run.
Of course I gift her with a traditional oriental wall calendar.
She is suitably grateful.
I'm starting to get good at this.
Then I drive to the town of Naas to purchase tomes for various family members, courtesy of the Dad's book token.
I toy with the idea of buying my brother Peter a Koran.
Pete is a priest.
The Koran costs 35 Euro.
The joke of giving him a Koran merely to see the look on his face, is just not worth that amount of money.
And with my budget I can't afford the indulgence.
I buy an armful of cheaper books.
That's most of the family taken care of.
At least they'll get something.
But what to get the parents.
It's 4 in the evening.
Everywhere is closing down.
I meet the artist Josephine Hardiman for coffee.
My last rendezvous of the day.
She presents me with a painting.
I kid you not.
So that's the parents taken care of.
I'm back home as darkness rolls in.
Truly I've been blessed.
posted by heelers | 3:50 AM
4 Comments:
Purses??? Purses rank way up there with my favorite things. It's a girlie thing...
...so, is that really your phone number at the top of your page? I could someday, when suffering with complete and utter boredom, actually turn on my cell phone, punch in those numbers, and talk to you?
That's kind of scary. I wouldn't have any idea of what to say to such a famous person.
Shades of your brother John....rushing in at the last possible minute on Christmas Eve, to Aunty Ber's,who would and did in clear conscience sell him anything( and I mean literally anything) from her Emporium........Happy Christmas James
Adrienne, would I kid about a serious thing like my phone number?
Fran, memories like the moon on the water!
J
Adrienne, James may not mean what you mean by purses. We generally mean the small bags or wallets for holding money.
When you give a purse as a gift, you're supposed to put a penny in. Or a cent, or whatever the 100th of a Euro is called.
I must admit, I'd always thought that must be the phone number of the Lethal Leinster Loser, rag extraordinaire.
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