Day Thirty Five

Furrgus 

The time has changed again. 

But fortunately we Blackthorn-Badgers have chosen to ignore such transitory inconsistencies.

So when Craig and Niamh decided to appear we had already scanned the neighbourhood, had our bi-monthly bath, breakfasted at the oatmeal restaurant and were nearly asleep again.

But they had a giant Italian cake that Miss Tarryn had given them. 

And fortunately they proceeded to share it with us. 

The proof of a proper upbringing I do say. 

Then Niamh asked Craig to stay with her in the living room to motivate her into starting another complicated paper. 

Since the two of them were wide awake in the living room we decided it was safe to go back to sleep. 

When we woke a few hours later Niamh was gone to meet with a classmate and we never heard her go.

We must have been quite tired. 

The other woman is also writing a paper and they decided they could use some moral support and a few coffees. 

Ottawa’s hockey team failed to win again last night, but that did not prevent Niamh from testing new desserts with her friends.

Cousin Morag sent us a picture of the Blackthorn-Bager’s memorial dolman. 

She and the gillies were out sprucing it up for the November Eleventh ceremony.

Never one to let the details slip by her is our Morag. Thank goodness.

Unfortunately we are going to miss being there this year, due to the outstanding warrants and the rest. 

But Cousin Morag is well up to be loco parentis. 

After Niamh left we got out The Times for our competitive crosswords afternoon.

Craig went into the den with more coffee and high hopes for the football games. 

Hope springs eternal as they are wont to say. 

Emmet and Alice appeared in Dublin today. 

At Emmet’s grandparents’ s house for tea. 

And as she was in town Miss Alice took the opportunity to buy herself a piano. 

Someone will bring it to her in Cork. 

She did not have to stuff it into the return train thank goodness. 

I have been given to understand that she was a concert pianist before she became a surgeon. 

Cousin Morag was a star of the Edinburgh philharmonic before she joined the SOE and, well I best leave it at that. 

Playing a musical instrument seems to open up many possibilities, well except for the bagpipes I have found. 

Now that we have proof that Zita’s parents are reading our ramblings we best watch our language Dugal says. 

He mistakes my scrabble vocabulary with my daily speech. 

And if we extracted the word “bloody”from his repertoire a great silence would occur let me assure you. 

If the rumours are, then a true a gaggle of Niamh’s friends are to descend here and craft an ensemble dinner.

That should provide us with some amusement I dare say. 

I hope the soirée does not last too long as I was up early this morning because of the ridiculous charge of time.