Yesterday was a big day for us feckers here in Ireland as we awaited crippled son’s results for his degree. This was major fecking sh*t. His life and my sanity depended on it.
I got up and asked him what were his results…he kept repeating that it didn’t make any sense. Eventually, he ventured forth to Trinity College and came home waving a piece of paper. It was official – the boy had done good.
He also arrived home with his blind friend whom I shall call A. A and C (my boy) bought some beers and could be heard merrily singing in the TV room to some Dubliner’s tune at around 3pm.
A had also gotten his results.
Then B arrived, he too was celebrating his results.
Then the whole alphabet arrived…well about seven more letters. C did give me some notice and I cooked Carne Asada for them. Great fun was had by all.
A – who by the way had just completed an internship in DC working with trade unions, then persuaded B and C to go into town (Dublin city centre).
They were a sorry sight this morning.
But life is good.
I have blurred Trump from my mind these last two days. And that is also soothing.