January Gift Horse... meat

It is an unseasonably sunny Monday on the seventh day of Thirteen, birds sing as if it’s late March, it’s not like grim January at all, except all sorts of out-of-body appointments have been made. First that interview at 9.45, I might as well tell you, in UCD. My first official job interview in about twenty five years, well I did say Thirteen called for dramatic change. The worst part of this plan was being told by recruitment agents that I had to reduce my achievements on my CV, it was overpowering.  Well it might be, but it wasn’t making me employable. The moment I parked near the Arts block, I smiled, and didn’t stop smiling, so great were the memories of my time there, as a young mother. This job had absolutely nothing to do with my qualifications yet I really enjoyed the interview, the last thing I expected. Especially, as I was sworn to secrecy about the lab facility. It was maternity cover, which suited my writer aspirations.

Next was a meeting with a lawyer, well if you’ve got to do one of those, something is up. Two useful outings of the suit in one day. 

Absentee boyfriend duly arrives by lunchtime, dismantles the door handles and assesses my requirements. I hasten to add, this is an off-shore financier I wouldn’t have thought knew one end of a Phillips screwdriver from another. He left with a promise to return in the evening once I got shiny new locks and longer screws. I don’t think he meant a visit the hairdresser. Reader, he is not called absentee boyfriend for nothing and he’s only called boyfriend because he’s not a girl.

The owner of the local hardware is fascinated with my plans, says he’s been renting rooms and bedsits for years, goes on and on about all the trouble he has ‘and you’re going to be living with them?’ he asked incredulously, as if tenants are a subspecies to be avoided. He went on to describe his tenant nightmares, ‘screw them,’ he said, ‘they’ll wreck your house. And keep away from students, they’re the worst.’ He explains about the new bedsit laws, how landlords are calling their properties hostels now, rather than upgrading or offering decent sized accommodation.

Undeterred and delighted with my lock and long screws I walk home with the dog and CC#2 slots it into his bedroom door only to find the tongue facing the wrong way, we wondered if there are left and right-hand locks. Well, I was glad I hadn’t driven all the way to Woodie’s and only had to nip back to my local expert. Back I went in the car, wondering how people who work in an office all day get these things done. While the owner, I’ll call Rory, looked perplexed and fidgeted around for a replacement, two game and cheerful men came in, ‘ah, the very man’, exclaimed the relieved Rory, ‘Can you give this lady a hand with her lock,’ the man nearest me turned and before I knew it said, ‘Oh give me a hug.’ That was a first, but I suppose it was a sort of New Year thing to do, as I needed the lock sorted, I gave him a hug without thinking. Next I knew he had efficiently opened it up and reversed the tongue. Then Rory asked him ‘will you not just follow her home and put it in, she needs a deadlock in her front door as well.’ 

‘I do,’ I confirmed, ‘there’s been a few burglaries near me lately and my neighbour (wise husband again) said I’m mad not to have one. ’ Turning to Rory I said, ‘I also need something to screw into a marble tile, some sort of putty,’ I said knowledgably.

Noddy, we’ll call the hugging builder, took a drill bit from a shelf and said, ‘that kind of thing has to be done very slowly, are you far?’

With that, I hopped into my car and he followed me home, leaving his colleague scratching his head. I quickly calculated that all was above board, it was broad daylight and most of all I had a strapping rugby player at home, and a fiercely protective collie.  I also realised I would be saving absentee boyfriend a lot of time, the more to enjoy his dinner.