The weather outside is frightful and it’s shingle bells all the way as I’ve never spent so long resting. Kazza G hadn’t known how to rest before being struck by the shingles arrow…but she’s sure resting now. The bod’s just got no option. It could be worse, I could be like all of you shingleless mortals, full of energy but slowed in your paces nevertheless by the onslaught of frosty particles falling from the sky, settling in to a blanket of….treacherous icy sheets laid across the pathways to…well wherever the pathways are bringing you really!!
Let’s bring you back somewhat, ok some time ago, maybe quite a long time ago….to a big freeze when I was a teenager. My siblings and, I in all our divilment didn’t quite catch our school bus. When I say we didn’t quite catch it, what I really mean is, we didn’t make much effort to catch it. Our school was a good eight miles away and we weren’t exactly novices where missing the school bus was concerned, though usually foiled in our plans by our enthusiastic mother, keen to deposit her little darlings at their place of learning, likely to guarantee a bit of peace (understandable with a brood of six). This previously aforementioned mother was never prone to aligning her belief of ‘letting all bad luck go with it’ when it came to a missed school bus but not being the most confident of drivers on a dry day, we were pretty certain that the aul wan wouldn’t venture out in the awful snowy weather to drive us to the school gates.
Arriving home, after a good old snowball fight en route, so suitably damp, to strengthen our case, we advised the Mammy that we’d have to stay off school for the day. However, to our horror, she had other plans. No, not at all, she would brave the weather and drive us to school and we could get the bus back home. Nonetheless we were way ahead of her, we had a Plan B, thanks be to God and we put it into action straight away. ‘Jesus Mary and Joseph’, we heard her say after 5 minutes searching ‘What have I done with my keys?’ This was a somewhat regular occurrence on her part but that day, neither Jesus, , Mary, or even Joseph would have been of any use to her, because they were outnumbered. Even when St. Anthony was thrown into the mix, the saint to whom the Irish pray, to help them find things, the odds were still uneven. Fair dues to himself, he is a decent sort and always helps us find things and he did even on this occasion, but she’d be just about to put her hand in the place he had indicated and where they in fact were and we’d be one step ahead of her and have them moved to another spot.
Once we’d passed the imagined or implied deadline for dropping us into school in time for any class, we stood back and let St Anthony get on with it. True to form, he came up with the goods and our Mum was none the wiser as she praised how good he was and how he never let her down. We kids spent the day sledding on the nearby golf course, having snowball fights and building the obligatory snowman. The aul wan even ended up enjoying the day herself, convinced, rightly so that she had done her best to get us to school. Sure didn’t we save her from the danger of those icy roads. Suffice it to say the poor woman never had a hope. All the saints in heaven could have joined in our game of hide and seek and we would still have won, nothing beats the power of united siblings, especially when the weather outside is frightful!!