Firestarter

Ranting downtown

I almost took out an entire Terrace with 2 rashers.
I thought it may behove me to batten down and do some actual  writing for the Spiegaltent Show,
instead of wandering the streets engaging random passers by in idle chit chat -
 Before the week of the show dawns and I am found wandering in an unkempt disheveled state,
 ranting and weeping and gnashing of teeth.
To that end, I removed myself from cafés and charity shops and went home to work.
First, I had to check that the tiny  yorkshire terrier puppy had not fallen into a tray of emulsion paint -
 - (yep - 2 things you should maybe not decide to do before you work is get another new dog,
    and decide to paint the house) -
or been savaged to death by the murderously jealous needy Chihuahua who is the animal equivalent of me.
Walter & Ernie were lying on cushions in the yard like Lord's Bastards, in a patch of late sunlight, surrounded by chicken breasts, dog nuts, raw hide shoes, chews, and tug toys.
Despite the puppy training mats, newspapers, and open doors there were a number of tiny yellow pools that had to be addressed with a mop and bucket first.
It may not be the cleverest thing to be mopping urine with bleach that smells of ammonia, as surely I may as well paint an arrow on the ground saying
  "Please Piss Here"
Then my dress was annoying me.
It was too full of me.
And the instrument of torture that passes for a bra was wreckin' me buzz.
A woman I met in a boutique, frog marched me into a fitting room as she said my breasts needed lifting and insisted I spend a Kings Ransom on a Playtex harness.
Spike Milligan was  quoted while he was in the army during the Second World War as saying -
"the only pleasure I have left in life is taking me boots off of a night"
I feel the same about the bra, and my sighs and groans can be heard at the Point of the Raven when I extricate myself from its hooks and straps.
My spirits need lifting at the best of times, never mind my breasts.
When I had removed the offending articles I threw on a nightdress I bought for 99 cent in Oxfam and had dyed bright blue and sat down to type.
Hours passed and even Walter had left the building to go for his tea and see his girlfriend Winnie,
 who lives on the mountain.

Ernie contemplates leaping to freedom 

I realise that I have not broken my fast for the entire day.

(This is Lie Number 1 as I had eaten Cheesecake downtown)

And so rummaged in the fridge to find something to put in my mouth that would not require cooking. 

I have been using the rings of the cooker as a shelf and bookcase, and have had an extension lead trailing across it with a number of electrical cables plugged in to the one socket. 

Microwave, Kettle, Coffee Maker, Toaster, Tumble Drier etc. 

As you do. 

I threw the rashers under the grill and carried on typing. 

And my phone rang.

My 84 year old Father is at the door with the dog and I run out to collect him.

The conversation was 20 seconds long and revolved around what both of them had consumed for their dinner. 

When I walked back in there was black smoke coming out of the grill.

Unaware that his Mistress is burning the house down Walter frolics on a mountain.







What happened was this - 

The pair of  rashers, curling up to die, spat in the face of  death.

It spat back.

They spat harder.

It was a mere matter of convection and conduction after that.

The element covered in spattering fat gave up the ghost and burst into flames. 

I stood with my hair like Einstein and a dog in my arms and thought Oh Jesus, Joseph and Mary. 

Again with this? 

I have previous. 

One evening many moons ago after a long hard day I arrived home to the eternal question

Simpsons or Chips? Simpsons or Chips? 

Hmmmmm.

Maybe both?

Before you could say someone call a Fire Brigade there was not one, but two parked outside.

And the Boyo's were inside spraying everything in sight, 

tearing the presses full of crockery down off the walls with crowbars -

 "in case there was a smouldering spark hun" says the smouldering fireman, smoulderingly.

And dancing up the cream stair carpet in their wet black rubber boots, unrolling a manky hose. 

I had to live like a Bedouin Nomad for a month till the kitchen was re-built,

a bucket of iced water with bottles of Heineken and a Litre of milk floating around  in the middle of the living room floor, Pizza boxes stacked up outside the back door. 

"NOOOOOOOOO" I wailed as the adrenaline started to pump and I caught a reflection of my startled face in the mirror. 

Tonight I will NOT be treated for smoke inhalation, and have to be comforted on the street at midnight, and given a stripey mug  full of Brandy and a loan of money.

The first thing I did was unplug the laptop to save the work.

(This is Lie Number 2 - the first thing I did was have 87 different thoughts simultaneously.)

Where is my bra/phone/purse/phone/dogs/phone?

Is that flame on the tiles getting higher?

Is there anything here that could explode?

My lovely neighbour just found a man after dancing her way around 3 counties and finally pulled in Mullinavat and now they will be blown sky high having their tea.

I'm going to have another row with the receptionist who keeps saying what is your emergency when you are screaming for a fire truck.

I should have had a shower when I had the chance.

My other lovely neighbour is inside drinking tea, smoking fags and reading "Take a Break" because she thinks it is a Magazine. 

Everyone is going to laugh their heads off.

Everyone is going to kill me.

I may die before that if those plugs start melting ..........

Oh JAZUZ the plugs. 

NOT the actual plugs. Even I wouldn't take a photo at a time like this. Ahem. 

I only mildly singed the  hair on my arms as like a contestant in the Krypton Factor I managed to unplug everything in a millisecond  AND remember I had a fire blanket in the press.

When the pots and lids stopped tumbling all over the floor a fire extinguisher rolled out at my feet. 

Water is red, red is not for electrical, blue is powder, blue is, where is the pin?

Which way up is it.

Oh there is the pin.

Oh it IS red.

Oh Jesus.

PULL THE PIN.

The entire kitchen is covered in yellow powder and there is a mushroom cloud of smoke hanging over the table.

I am alive and the fire is out. 

I am alive and the fire is out. 

I need a cigarette for me nerves. 

It only took me 7 hours to clean up and for every minute of them I praised Allah, Buddha, Christ, Divinity,God, Jehovah , Jesus, Krishna and Vishnu in alphabetical order,  and anyone else that ever stood up in 2 shoes that I still had a kitchen, and working appliances.  

I need a drink for me nerves

I decided to get a grip. 

No-one in their right mind would live like this, so I went into the neighbour to my left and borrowed cleaning utensils, black bags and 7 loose duty free Benson & Hedges. 

(This is  Lie Number 3 . It was 7 and a half. I found a dogger in the box. )

Then I told my dancing neighbour and her new man from Athy what a lucky escape we all had. 

I know. 

I KNOW already. 

I'm on it like a bonnet.

Before

After

MDM September 3rd 2014