We’re back on the road for another world tour of the medical facilities of Ireland. Himself was due to go to Newry for a gob job last Wednesday but the dental surgery postponed that trip. That was no harm as he was for two different Dublin hospitals on the Thursday and Friday. There’s a lot of maintenance required in autumn to get the body winter ready. I enjoy the driving as long as I have a good vehicle under me and can get cover in work. For once in its long life the Caddy has a rattle where it shouldn’t have one, and to put the tin hat on it Barry my mechanic is away on his jollies. I could cope with the motor going in a hundred pieces between Mountnugent and Rathmullan but the thought of being stranded on the motorway or the M50 doesn’t appeal to me at all. It mightn’t be a very logical thought process because help is probably nearer at hand on the shorter journey within the Republic than on the far longer trip via the six counties. At least if we’re using his jeep it’ll be Himself’s problem if it disintegrates on the M50. I’m such a thoughtful, selfless person; a virtual saint... not! Both the Dublin runs went smoothly and the jeep remained in one piece for the duration. I had asked Himself earlier in the week when the test was up on it and he hadn’t a clue; turned out it was due in late September so there’s an unmerciful splutter of activity on now to get it ship-shape asap. I still opted to take it to Rathmullan last Friday evening rather than chance the van. I loaded the back with bags of dung (no whiff when it’s well rotted), bags of turf and filled all the gaps with logs for the stove.
