09 April 2017
Story #859
R. Linda:
Here's the thing: everyone has bad days, but why do I have really bad days?
I was doing great up to Thursday; I was healthy as a horse, everyone in me house was good, and the Dragon had gone home with her hound. Life couldn't get any better, right? Wrong!
I wanted to give Tonya a special birthday, she's been upset over federal non-funding of educational materials for schools and has donated a lot of her time to after-school programmes. She's knackered from it all, and so I wanted to make her feel appreciated. Her 30-something-something birthday was coming up, so I got with Mam and discussed a party to celebrate and lift her spirits.
Well, things went smoothly in big part thanks to Mam. Tonya had a hankering for Italian food, so I was making lasagna, and Mam was making her famous Italian baked chicken, and Tonya's close girlfriends were making a huge cauldron of Italian veggie soup, fresh-baked Italian bread, and an assortment of Italian appetisers and desserts. I had a cake (non-Italian), but what can ya do, right? So all set.
On Friday, a good friend of ours died prematurely. I was unsure whether to proceed, but after making a few calls, everyone was on board. A few didn't come because they were in mourning, which is very understandable, but most everyone did come, and I see that, like in Ireland, where we celebrate the life lived, these people did too. That is what we did after the birthday celebration, and it was all very respectful, as we toasted our departed friend and told fond stories.
Once I had overcome that hurdle, whether to proceed or not, I had one more event to attend. O'Hare, the most musical of me bairns, was in a multi-school concert Saturday morning. The night before, I walked into his room to get him off Minecraft and into bed. He was all excited that we were going. I made arrangements for the two boyos to stay with Mam while Tonya and I attended O'Hare's big event. The problem I have is that the wee one turns into Georgie, his alter ego, and we had front-row seats, so we didn't want Georgie stealing the show. Guido, on the other hand, didn't want to go. If he wasn't singing, he wasn't interested. Ok then.
At about 9:30 that night, I started to feel like the British Army had rolled over me. I had a cough that choked me, fever and body aches like you wouldn't believe. I took meself to the Immediate Care and they stuck me in a gown in a room and left me there for one solid hour. I finally opened the door and asked them if they had forgotten me. No, no, they were busy, please go sit on the gurney and doctor would be in as soon as he could. Right, they were, the word 'soon' in their language was another 45 freaking minutes. I sat in that cold room, with nothing but a hospital gown on (and why I needed to change into that I do not know), coughing me fool head off and generally feeling worse and worse.
This time, I didn't get a chicken soup prescription, but was given general cold medications, an inhaler, and when I mentioned I had commitments I had to be on hand for, a steroid pack was prescribed. The verdict was bronchitis. I got dressed, went to the chemist and waited there for another 30 minutes for me big medication order. I popped a pill before I left because I wasn't sure I'd make the 45-minute drive home. By the time I got home, I felt 30% better. Mam had made me tea, and as we talked, I was starting to feel a lot better. Only, I hadn't got any sleep; I was too wound up. So, I watched the moonlight creep slowly across the walls of my room all night.
By 6 a.m. I had just started to drift off when I heard the sound of a coyote howling next to me head. Me phone was alerting me to a text from me eldest, who had set me phone up with his fav alert, which is enough to give one heart failure if you don't expect it. He wanted to know what time we were leaving for the concert. I was livid. I told him the time was 9:00 sharp. Now let me sleep, PLEASE!
By morning light, I awoke pale, feverish and hacking me head off. I was determined not to disappoint O'Hare and go to the concert. Mam was all for calling the guests and postponing the party, but I said no, hoping to be better by evening. However, we were out of coffee, and you know what that does, makes Gabriel a very grouchy man.
I was very pale, the lobes of me ears were bright red (no clue why), and the tip of me nose was red and raw from blowing it so much. I looked strange, I know, but I piled Tonya and O'Hare in the car and realised I needed petrol, which annoyed me because I hadn't filled up the night before. So, I told them I'd to stop for that, and there was a Dunkin' Donuts nearby, so I'd get coffee.
At the petrol station, I pulled in, and there was a line. My gas tank was on the passenger side of the car, so I had to wait for someone with the same problem to leave so I could pull in. This took some time, but I finally managed to get a space. I discovered I left me credit cards at home and had only cash. So I went inside the convenience store and told them to put $20 in the tank, as I was in a hurry. I went out after paying and got the pump in the car, and it didn't work. I went back in and told them to turn on the pump. I went back out, and the pump stopped after 8 cents. I was like wtf? I went back in and told them to quit fooling around, and back I went to finally get the $19.92 worth. Geez!
I got in me car and pulled into Dunk's drive-thru to find at least 30 cars in line. Well, I couldn't wait because that would make us late, so unhappy, I pulled off and headed to the school two towns over, coffee-less.
We got to the school very early. The concert was scheduled for 10:00, but it was already 9:20. We dropped O'Hare off with his music teacher, and I could smell heavenly coffee.
"There is a snack bar open outside the gym, and they have coffee." A school official told me.
We weren't told how to get to the gym, but I saw a row of chairs and headed that way; I was right, it was the gymnasium. I left Tonya talking to someone she knew and headed for the hallway, where I was told the snack bar was located. Well, it was there, but no coffee! Soft drinks and juice. A woman was standing to the side with her cup of Dunks, and that's what I was smelling. Grumpy, I went to my seat in the front row, trying not to have a coughing fit.
When the concert finally started, fifteen minutes late, I was in a bronchitis haze, trying to keep the coughing under control with me handy dandy inhaler. The first batch of chorus members came out, all early teens from a school in a community with a snobby reputation. I was gobsmacked at the appearance of so much green hair. Long, short, in-between all green-headed young people, dressed in strange variations of clothing in white and black, looking like they'd rather be at a rave than put on a concert.
Once over the shock and wondering what was in the water in that town, the music director informed us we'd be hearing one African song, one Hebrew song, and one WASP song. Okay, I put WASP in because really? There was not a black or Jewish person in the whole auditorium, but I thought the idea of inclusion was great. Where were the people we were honouring with inclusion? Not to sound a bigot, but the reason there are not many blacks or Jews OR anyone else, be the economy sucks in New Hampshire. If you aren't in the tourist trade, there are no jobs. Those people are too smart to come up here to end up on welfare in a welfare system that isn't that great. Plus, it's hard to heat a house if you have no money and know the winters are severe . . . too smart to move here.
So we were subjected to pitchy singing of all three tunes; the glum and unenthusiastic songbirds with green hair reminded me of St. Patrick's Day. Tonya told me the next group (a band this time) started six months ago, so get ready.
Earplugs are a great little item to sell at school concerts, especially when there are brass instruments. With me head full and me trying not to cough, I was besieged by bad music, and I mean really bad music. Tonya texted: "I am so amused and I know it isn't kind but I am fighting, bursting out laughing." The reason was that song one sounded exactly like songs two and three. The brass section couldn't play to save their lives; one of the two clarinets was faking it, and the snare drum and the other clarinet and recorder were the only three who had the songs down. But when the saxophone goes off on its own and the poor tuba girl is trying to catch her breath before passing out, well, it's hard to appreciate the time spent a tune way off key. At one point, Tonya told me I was coughing in time with the tuba. How awesome, considering neither the tuba player nor yours truly could catch our breath.
The next group was ours, and when I heard our little school of five chorus members was combined with the host school of at least 30 . . . well, I wasn't hopeful since they hadn't practised once together. But they were the best; they were enthusiastic, they gestured, they smiled, and they were having fun. They sang tunes that were recognisable and really did a great job. By the end of it, I was feeling better. Me Mam had said music would uplift me spirits, and well, I had me doubts, but she was right.
By the time we got home, I was feeling even better. Trial by what was pawned off as music was over, and the party was scheduled at 6, which means 8. I was taken aside by Mam, who told me she'd start the lasagna and chicken at 6:30 and if I needed her, she'd be in the attic for the rest of the night.
"Wait a minute," I said, catching her arm as she made to leave, "why will you be in the attic?"
"Oooh Gabriel, dat man be a coomin' an I jus' caunt bring meself ta disappoint 'em."
"You mean Ken?"
Ken is a very nice older gent who is single, and he likes me Ma, a whole lot.
"Dat be da one. I went ta da town hall ta register me motor an' he came in to register his. He dint noo I wuz in da clerk's office, an' when I came oot, well, Gabriel, he lit up like a Christmas tree he did. He wuz so nervous at seein' me he couldn't git his word oot. I wuz embarrassed fur 'em I wuz."
"You should reconsider, Mam. It would be good for you to go out and get back in the swing of things." I said, amused at her.
"Ooh noo, I be not wantin' a man in me life. Yer faher wuz enuff! I do jus' fine witout one, I do. I be froostrated wit dese old geezahs. Dey half no dignahtee. It be like dey all need a hoag and I ain't given noo hoags. Dey can find a hizzie like Dragon fur dat dey can."
"I will keep you safe, don't ya worry, but don't sit in the attic all night, geez, Mam," I said, putting an arm around her, trying not to laugh. I gave her a "hoag" (hug) in reassurance.
Well, as it was, the party was probably the best we ever had. And I didn't have to be Mam's protector; she did just fine on her own. Yup, this morning I was doing just as well, feeling better. Glad Tonya was happy and had a great birthday. The kiddos were all in good humour, and the few people who overnighted it had a hearty breakfast thanks to me. They were off with leftovers, and then the doorbell rang.
Yup, it was a good couple of hours until I opened that door. I thought one of them had come back because they had forgotten something, but no, who was on me doorstep, suitcase in hand? None other than cousin Sean. Yup. Do you remember cousin Sean? Well, he's baccckkkk!!!
Gabe
Copyright © 2017 All rights reserved
Story #859
R. Linda:
Here's the thing: everyone has bad days, but why do I have really bad days?
I was doing great up to Thursday; I was healthy as a horse, everyone in me house was good, and the Dragon had gone home with her hound. Life couldn't get any better, right? Wrong!
I wanted to give Tonya a special birthday, she's been upset over federal non-funding of educational materials for schools and has donated a lot of her time to after-school programmes. She's knackered from it all, and so I wanted to make her feel appreciated. Her 30-something-something birthday was coming up, so I got with Mam and discussed a party to celebrate and lift her spirits.
Well, things went smoothly in big part thanks to Mam. Tonya had a hankering for Italian food, so I was making lasagna, and Mam was making her famous Italian baked chicken, and Tonya's close girlfriends were making a huge cauldron of Italian veggie soup, fresh-baked Italian bread, and an assortment of Italian appetisers and desserts. I had a cake (non-Italian), but what can ya do, right? So all set.
On Friday, a good friend of ours died prematurely. I was unsure whether to proceed, but after making a few calls, everyone was on board. A few didn't come because they were in mourning, which is very understandable, but most everyone did come, and I see that, like in Ireland, where we celebrate the life lived, these people did too. That is what we did after the birthday celebration, and it was all very respectful, as we toasted our departed friend and told fond stories.
Once I had overcome that hurdle, whether to proceed or not, I had one more event to attend. O'Hare, the most musical of me bairns, was in a multi-school concert Saturday morning. The night before, I walked into his room to get him off Minecraft and into bed. He was all excited that we were going. I made arrangements for the two boyos to stay with Mam while Tonya and I attended O'Hare's big event. The problem I have is that the wee one turns into Georgie, his alter ego, and we had front-row seats, so we didn't want Georgie stealing the show. Guido, on the other hand, didn't want to go. If he wasn't singing, he wasn't interested. Ok then.
At about 9:30 that night, I started to feel like the British Army had rolled over me. I had a cough that choked me, fever and body aches like you wouldn't believe. I took meself to the Immediate Care and they stuck me in a gown in a room and left me there for one solid hour. I finally opened the door and asked them if they had forgotten me. No, no, they were busy, please go sit on the gurney and doctor would be in as soon as he could. Right, they were, the word 'soon' in their language was another 45 freaking minutes. I sat in that cold room, with nothing but a hospital gown on (and why I needed to change into that I do not know), coughing me fool head off and generally feeling worse and worse.
This time, I didn't get a chicken soup prescription, but was given general cold medications, an inhaler, and when I mentioned I had commitments I had to be on hand for, a steroid pack was prescribed. The verdict was bronchitis. I got dressed, went to the chemist and waited there for another 30 minutes for me big medication order. I popped a pill before I left because I wasn't sure I'd make the 45-minute drive home. By the time I got home, I felt 30% better. Mam had made me tea, and as we talked, I was starting to feel a lot better. Only, I hadn't got any sleep; I was too wound up. So, I watched the moonlight creep slowly across the walls of my room all night.
By 6 a.m. I had just started to drift off when I heard the sound of a coyote howling next to me head. Me phone was alerting me to a text from me eldest, who had set me phone up with his fav alert, which is enough to give one heart failure if you don't expect it. He wanted to know what time we were leaving for the concert. I was livid. I told him the time was 9:00 sharp. Now let me sleep, PLEASE!
By morning light, I awoke pale, feverish and hacking me head off. I was determined not to disappoint O'Hare and go to the concert. Mam was all for calling the guests and postponing the party, but I said no, hoping to be better by evening. However, we were out of coffee, and you know what that does, makes Gabriel a very grouchy man.
I was very pale, the lobes of me ears were bright red (no clue why), and the tip of me nose was red and raw from blowing it so much. I looked strange, I know, but I piled Tonya and O'Hare in the car and realised I needed petrol, which annoyed me because I hadn't filled up the night before. So, I told them I'd to stop for that, and there was a Dunkin' Donuts nearby, so I'd get coffee.
At the petrol station, I pulled in, and there was a line. My gas tank was on the passenger side of the car, so I had to wait for someone with the same problem to leave so I could pull in. This took some time, but I finally managed to get a space. I discovered I left me credit cards at home and had only cash. So I went inside the convenience store and told them to put $20 in the tank, as I was in a hurry. I went out after paying and got the pump in the car, and it didn't work. I went back in and told them to turn on the pump. I went back out, and the pump stopped after 8 cents. I was like wtf? I went back in and told them to quit fooling around, and back I went to finally get the $19.92 worth. Geez!
I got in me car and pulled into Dunk's drive-thru to find at least 30 cars in line. Well, I couldn't wait because that would make us late, so unhappy, I pulled off and headed to the school two towns over, coffee-less.
We got to the school very early. The concert was scheduled for 10:00, but it was already 9:20. We dropped O'Hare off with his music teacher, and I could smell heavenly coffee.
"There is a snack bar open outside the gym, and they have coffee." A school official told me.
We weren't told how to get to the gym, but I saw a row of chairs and headed that way; I was right, it was the gymnasium. I left Tonya talking to someone she knew and headed for the hallway, where I was told the snack bar was located. Well, it was there, but no coffee! Soft drinks and juice. A woman was standing to the side with her cup of Dunks, and that's what I was smelling. Grumpy, I went to my seat in the front row, trying not to have a coughing fit.
When the concert finally started, fifteen minutes late, I was in a bronchitis haze, trying to keep the coughing under control with me handy dandy inhaler. The first batch of chorus members came out, all early teens from a school in a community with a snobby reputation. I was gobsmacked at the appearance of so much green hair. Long, short, in-between all green-headed young people, dressed in strange variations of clothing in white and black, looking like they'd rather be at a rave than put on a concert.
Once over the shock and wondering what was in the water in that town, the music director informed us we'd be hearing one African song, one Hebrew song, and one WASP song. Okay, I put WASP in because really? There was not a black or Jewish person in the whole auditorium, but I thought the idea of inclusion was great. Where were the people we were honouring with inclusion? Not to sound a bigot, but the reason there are not many blacks or Jews OR anyone else, be the economy sucks in New Hampshire. If you aren't in the tourist trade, there are no jobs. Those people are too smart to come up here to end up on welfare in a welfare system that isn't that great. Plus, it's hard to heat a house if you have no money and know the winters are severe . . . too smart to move here.
So we were subjected to pitchy singing of all three tunes; the glum and unenthusiastic songbirds with green hair reminded me of St. Patrick's Day. Tonya told me the next group (a band this time) started six months ago, so get ready.
Earplugs are a great little item to sell at school concerts, especially when there are brass instruments. With me head full and me trying not to cough, I was besieged by bad music, and I mean really bad music. Tonya texted: "I am so amused and I know it isn't kind but I am fighting, bursting out laughing." The reason was that song one sounded exactly like songs two and three. The brass section couldn't play to save their lives; one of the two clarinets was faking it, and the snare drum and the other clarinet and recorder were the only three who had the songs down. But when the saxophone goes off on its own and the poor tuba girl is trying to catch her breath before passing out, well, it's hard to appreciate the time spent a tune way off key. At one point, Tonya told me I was coughing in time with the tuba. How awesome, considering neither the tuba player nor yours truly could catch our breath.
The next group was ours, and when I heard our little school of five chorus members was combined with the host school of at least 30 . . . well, I wasn't hopeful since they hadn't practised once together. But they were the best; they were enthusiastic, they gestured, they smiled, and they were having fun. They sang tunes that were recognisable and really did a great job. By the end of it, I was feeling better. Me Mam had said music would uplift me spirits, and well, I had me doubts, but she was right.
By the time we got home, I was feeling even better. Trial by what was pawned off as music was over, and the party was scheduled at 6, which means 8. I was taken aside by Mam, who told me she'd start the lasagna and chicken at 6:30 and if I needed her, she'd be in the attic for the rest of the night.
"Wait a minute," I said, catching her arm as she made to leave, "why will you be in the attic?"
"Oooh Gabriel, dat man be a coomin' an I jus' caunt bring meself ta disappoint 'em."
"You mean Ken?"
Ken is a very nice older gent who is single, and he likes me Ma, a whole lot.
"Dat be da one. I went ta da town hall ta register me motor an' he came in to register his. He dint noo I wuz in da clerk's office, an' when I came oot, well, Gabriel, he lit up like a Christmas tree he did. He wuz so nervous at seein' me he couldn't git his word oot. I wuz embarrassed fur 'em I wuz."
"You should reconsider, Mam. It would be good for you to go out and get back in the swing of things." I said, amused at her.
"Ooh noo, I be not wantin' a man in me life. Yer faher wuz enuff! I do jus' fine witout one, I do. I be froostrated wit dese old geezahs. Dey half no dignahtee. It be like dey all need a hoag and I ain't given noo hoags. Dey can find a hizzie like Dragon fur dat dey can."
"I will keep you safe, don't ya worry, but don't sit in the attic all night, geez, Mam," I said, putting an arm around her, trying not to laugh. I gave her a "hoag" (hug) in reassurance.
Well, as it was, the party was probably the best we ever had. And I didn't have to be Mam's protector; she did just fine on her own. Yup, this morning I was doing just as well, feeling better. Glad Tonya was happy and had a great birthday. The kiddos were all in good humour, and the few people who overnighted it had a hearty breakfast thanks to me. They were off with leftovers, and then the doorbell rang.
Yup, it was a good couple of hours until I opened that door. I thought one of them had come back because they had forgotten something, but no, who was on me doorstep, suitcase in hand? None other than cousin Sean. Yup. Do you remember cousin Sean? Well, he's baccckkkk!!!
Gabe
Copyright © 2017 All rights reserved
