I'm seriously hoping this is the 'tortoise wins the race' period of the year. Work is slow. The intention to work gets muffled by cups of coffee, walking the dog, staying in the warmest room of the house where the tv and family are... and then the guilt for not working hard enough, fast enough or just plain enough.
My neighbour keeps hanging plastic bags on her washing line. The last time I saw this was in 1990 when I was on a work exchange as a journo to Sverdlovsk in Russia. (It reverted to Ekaterinberg later, the town in which the Tsar and his family were killed under the orders of Josef Sverdlov; hence the name).
But back then I also saw people collecting beer in plastic bags there too and fishing for two and a half hours on a freezing lake to produce a few handfuls of carp, the goldfish-sized ones for lunch.
I don't think we're there yet but I have to say I donot like the idea of handing over sovereignty in return for an EU bailout which seems to have been sprung to the Press last night. The way Fianna Fail, greedy developers, corrupt bankers and greed reduced this country to its knees, wasted all its money and given us the scariest health system despite the wonderful medical personnel we have makes me so angry...
So it's either bake a chocolate cake with whiskey in it or get back to my novel. Ho hum... Which would you do?
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