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DIARY OF A DEMENTED HOME WORKER: Another wave isn’t (pulp)

November 21st, 2021 6:25 PM

By Emma Connolly

DIARY OF A DEMENTED HOME WORKER: Another wave isn’t (pulp) Image
I’ve hit the juice this week, even if it’s more tempting to hit the hard stuff with depressing talk of a major Covid surge on the way. I had stupidly pinned my hopes on the boosters, which apparently aren’t our way out of this mess. At least we have the follow -up to Sex and the City to look forward to.

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DIARY OF A DEMENTED HOME WORKER It’s week 89, I’m on the juice and blocking out news that vaccine boosters aren’t the golden ticket I had hoped

• WE got a juicer this week. Now I’m pretty sure we already have one tucked away some place, but anyway this is an all-singing, all-dancing model and like anything new we’re embracing it with gusto. I’ll admit to not being great at moderation, so before it was even out of the box I was declaring that I was going to do three-day juices, every week between now and Christmas. My husband looked at me with a weary look, the same one he gave me last week when I said I was going to quit drinking for a whole year (he had more reasonably recommended abstaining Monday to Friday; and in reality I lasted until Thursday). Anyway just a few days in I already have visions of myself at my kitchen counter in leggings and a cropped top, oozing vitality and bursting with energy (sipping a juice of course), sort of like Jane Fonda in her prime (or even a modern day Mary Rose Doorly, with the leg warmers obviously). As well as being good to cleanse yourself, it’s also a handy way to clean out the fridge as pretty much anything lurking down the back can be tossed in (once you’re reasonably confident it won’t give you ecoli). Admittedly, you have to drink some of the earthier concoctions through gritted teeth, and follow up pretty rapidly with a slurp of coffee to get rid of the after taste, it’s also a bit of a dose to clean and the cows don’t know what’s hit them there’s so much pulp coming their way but I remain quite hopeful it won’t end up where all non-essential appliances end up – the corner press of doom, squeezed in beside the other appliances that promised to change my life in the way they never quite did.

• Of course I’m around long enough to know that a few juices aren’t going to transform my life in the slightest; and that consistency is where it’s at. I was reminded of that on two fronts this week. Firstly when I was chatting to some of our local farmers about what they’re doing to future proof their farms and ensure sustainability, and the feedback is that it isn’t really any one big thing, but more about lots of small things, done right, and done often (see pages 16&17 for more on that). And in a completely different conversation with top mentalist Keith Barry this idea cropped up again. Keith has written a new self-development book which promises to teach you how to live a better life. I was all ears. Actually I was hoping he’d just sort of do his thing and ‘fix me’ over the phone. No such luck. There’s no magic dust, he says, you have to be prepared to put in the time, study his techniques, every day for at least a month to see any results. He says it’s the same with any self help book, which sort of explains where I’ve been going wrong with the 100 plus in my collection (including several on the benefits of juicing). Anyway, see page 23 for more with Keith.

• I heard Mary O’Rourke catching up with Brendan O’Connor on RTÉ Radio 1 at the weekend and I was struck to hear that she’s retreated from life a bit again in light of latest Covid cases. She explained how she’s stopped venturing out for her daily walks because she doesn’t want to risk bumping into people. She was at pains to explain that she’s not a hermit, and remains connected in lots of other ways, but that her walks, and the spontaneity of meeting someone and going say, for a coffee, had all stopped once more out of Covid fears. It made me feel sad, yet again, for this generation who are still really losing out because of the pandemic. My heart sank a bit more when I heard Professor Sam McConkey say this week that the booster programme alone won’t be enough to curb the virus. I must be a bit dense as i thought that was our golden ticket out of this mess. He mentioned the two words I hadn’t heard in a while – new normal – and said the best way to fight it now is to reduce our socialising. You’d have to admire his faith in people all the same.

• Anyway, more positively, we’re just a week out from The Late Late Toy Show and its timing is perfect as it’s always guaranteed to raise the collective spirits of the nation by several notches and jolly us all up, which I think is needed right now. Watching the Toy Show has sort of turned into an actual ‘event’ now though hasn’t it? You can’t just plonk down on the couch at the end of the week and watch it anymore; you have to get the whole family kitted out in new Christmas pyjamas (I would if there were any left); pimp up the hot chocolates and put on a spread the likes of which Santa himself won’t see. Some people even put up the tree in time for the night. I’ll admit it’s a tad too early for me. Having said it’s not at all too early for spot checks by Santa in our house – he’s been tuning into proceedings here for at least two weeks now especially at meal times and for the torture known as tooth brushing. He’s very reliable like that in fairness. He can get also eyes on us  when we’re in the car, and out about generally. Pretty handy really for everyone.

• Who is excited about the Sex and the City follow-up starting on December 9th? Everyone? Thought so. I’m guessing we’ve all seen the trailer for ‘And Just Like That’ by now and I have to say it looks pretty promising. SJP and her gals (not Samantha obviously) all look great, but appropriately so if that make sense. I’m guessing they’re on the juices the whole time, and are on just the right dose of HRT. Apparently the fashion industry is already expecting a bounce on dungarees and platform shoes after images were seen of Carrie wearing both. Hmmm, I wonder is it too late to change my Santa letter?

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