“The way we look to a distant constellation
That’s dying in a corner of the sky
These are the days of miracle and wonder
And don’t cry baby, don’t cry
Don’t cry, don’t cry”
- Forere Motlhoheloa / Paul Simon ( Boy In The Bubble )
Today, which is now your yesterday, I woke to my alarm at 5.45 am. My Soulmate and I had to be in Dublin for 8.30am to meet Miss Little, my urology consultant to review how I was getting on after surgery and to get the pathology results of all the bits that she had liberated from the hulking mass that is sometimes known as Paul Francis George Bond.
After I’d soaped and shaved, got dressed and made it as far as the kitchen I got myself a bowl of Kellogs’ Cornflakes, sprinkled some sugar on top and then poured on the milk. There is no finer breakfast. I saw a film about Dr.Kellog years ago , called ‘The Road To Wellville’, an excellent movie. He was played by Anthony Hopkins, and he was as mad as a box of frogs…Kellog that is , not Hopkins.
I think of that film most mornings when I’m having my cornflakes.
Our cats, Tuna and Pasta, follow me around , waiting to see if there’s any sugary milk left in my bowl when I’ve finished. There is always milk left over.
Those moments of memory and cats, and cornflakes are special, to me. Not entirely sure why.
We headed off at 6.30 am, and stopped at Bogues garage to get diesel for the car, and coffee for me. I have a reusable coffee cup from Grind, a cool new coffee shop in Monaghan , but it refused to fit under the ‘Regular Americano’ nozzle in Bogues. I ended up using one of their disposable cups to get the coffee from the machine…and then poured it into my reusable one. The irony was not lost on me. I smiled at that moment too.
On the way up the road we listened to a new history podcast called Empire featuring Anita Anand , and William Dalrymple , whose book, ‘The Anarchy – The Relentless Rise Of The East India Company’ I’d enjoyed. My Soulmate is incredibly patient with me and my choices of music and podcasts. I do appreciate it. Just not enough to let her pick the music. I played the best ever playlist on Spotify, yes ,, the SuperJetRobotDinosaur one, and Nick Cave’s ‘Distant Sky’ came on. I reached over and we held hands. We do that a lot. Still feels special each time.
We got parked and made our way to Outpatients – Clinic A, and we waited together. There were about 20 other people there, most seemed to have partners with them so maybe only 10 or 12 were patients. I wondered what stage each one was at, beginning, reviewing, ending. Some people get upset at waiting. I don’t. I read, or get distracted by what others are doing…and then we’re called.
Miss Little says I look well. She doesn’t specifically mention the Mo Chara sweatshirt I’m wearing, but I know she’s impressed. Miss Little does not waste time. She says that the bad news from pathology is that the tumour was an aggressive little bugger and was making its way to my prostrate , where it was going to join another tumour that had appeared there. The good news was that theses tumours were now in a bin in the pathology department. The other good news was that the lymph glands had been clear. I’ll have to go back for scans every 3 or 4 months , gradually moving to 6 months and then annually.
She checked my scars , seemed happy, and sent me for a blood test before we left.
A moment to cherish.
We stopped at Applegreen and I treated myself to another coffee , this time the reusable cup fitted the coffee machine. I also had a ‘gourmet sausage roll’, which is remarkably similar to their regular sausage rolls, only larger. I shared the flaky bits with crows outside. The crows and seagulls seem to have reached a territorial accomodation now, with the crows having the Northerly Applegreen , and the seagulls having the Southerly Applegreen across the motorway.
I like throwing bits of food to crows and trying to capture them catching it. Weird, I know.
We arrived home to find Ger, my Soulmate’s sister, and my great friend, baking brownies in our kitchen. We had poached eggs and toast for lunch. The girls were heading to Clogherhead for a swim and to meet friends , which meant that I had control of the TV for the evening ! I watched the Antique’s Roadtrip, fell asleep during Flog It, and then went into town to get fish & chips in the Monte Carlo for Elliott and I, before watching two episodes of Fr.Brown, and then I rewatched the wonderful ‘Paul Simon: Under African Skies’ documentary about his Graceland album.
What I’m trying to say is that we only have today. We only have this moment. No one knows what tomorrow will bring, or if it will arrive at all, so live this moment that you have, savour your cornflakes, hold your partner’s hand, listen to your playlists, feed the crows, steal two of your sister-in-laws freshly baked chocolate and raspberry brownies and blame the cats, enjoy the snooze, devour the Monte’s chips while chatting about what a bastard Clive of India was with Elliott, marvel at a Lesotho accordion player inspiring Paul Simon, and finish your blog while cuddling Tuna.
These are indeed moments ‘of miracle and wonder’.
Or do something you like.
But appreciate it.
Toodles,
Paul
