The fork mystery
When I switched to hotchpotch last autumn, I initially mashed it with a fork. This began to bend until it was at a right angle to the handle. Shortly afterwards my backdoor would not close, even after an extra push. I looked closer and saw my fork jammed, but neatly bended back. I'd like to see Uri Geller try that.
Hail Mary
When at night my bladder urges me outside, I often wear my headlight so as not to stumble over obstacles. My water lights up clearly and sparkles like fast quicksilver in the dark. This could very well bbecause I exclusively drink the water I get at St. Joseph's Holy Well near Miltown Malbay, because the tapwater in Fanore tastes like a swimming pool. And because, one never knows, it might dialyze my kidneys.
It does not add to my looks,
but I see so much better now. When I used to run the rocks, the slightest breeze would breathe a tear in my left eye.
That made it tricky to judge distance as this takes both eyes. Therefore my paces needed severe precision as one wrong step can have fatal consequences.
Nothing adequated. An old diving mask of which I cut out the nose, steamed up as did a foam rubber-lined paint mask. And ski masks have tinted glass against snow-blindness, so that would not do me either. Moreover they are pretty pricey.
The last time I was in Holland, I bought safety goggles, the ones that bend sideways, like wasp eyes.
Now that I can see unhindered by the wind, rockrunning has become so much easier. In the world of sports this is called blood doping. It feels as being borne on wings. Three years of fear for failure has fallen from my shoulders.
Fair weather friends
The first 'old friends' have shown up for the new season. Sadly, it is verboaten to know where the dolphin is hanging out these days. Also an applicant has surfaced who aspires the office of Personal Assistent to Dusty. The Ambassador dolphin has responded with an unfathomable smile.
The chicken or the egg?
I have noticed that rockpools which are colonized by sea urchins hold no stones, while others are full of them. Do the sea urchins throw out the stones or do the stones keep out the sea urchins?
Bed of roses
At Trá Bhuí, the beach beyond Aircín, the sand grinds the boulders to spheroids and smoothens the slanting rock faces. At some places I can recline with the comfort of a sofa. A splendid spot for an apple and a sun bathe.
The balls
Willem does not only co-organise song nights when he is not working as a translator, for quite some time now he has done coast-cleaning too. Thereby he regularly finds markers of fishing nets. He saves them up for the parish Padre of Liscannor, who, however, has been bedridden since last June. Willem now has 90 balls at the top of his stairs. He would like to finally get rid of them so I suggested to make a ball pit. The little victims’ injuries will be covered by medical card. Nasty children will be sold back to their parents. The casualties can be collected afterwards by their parents. Home deliveries optional.
Buddy Holly
Willem is a wholehearted fan of Bob Dylan. I share his passion, but after the motor accident, to my taste, he has only made one more great record, 'John Wesley Harding'. Recently Willem has been collecting Buddy Holly songs, but only those Buddy recorded before his accident.
Footnote
That's what you get from this rock running craze. Now I also have a squeak in my left shoe, but here I can influence the pitch. Jogging with the bass in my right shoe, I'm walking harmonies. Soon I hope to bring my first leapera to the footlights. I will move in catwalk over de rocks, on the rhythm of chance, in time with my balance and a choir of my guardian angels in the background.