Our columnist has a weird week in between storms and scam phone calls
• WHAT a week! We had snow (I was calling it slush, my daughter thought it was a winter wonderland ... oh for the wonder of youth), then we had Bert (now he was wild!) and we had an earthquake (even if the earth did not quite move for me).
As if that wasn’t enough, in the middle of it all I got a random phone call to inform me that there was a ‘case registered in my name for money laundering and drug trafficking’ with some international crime busting agency. I won’t lie, I did not see that one coming, but when the professional, slightly robotic lady on the end of the phone urged me to ‘press 1’ to leave my bank details etc, the (non-laundered) penny dropped. Scam alert! I don’t know why but I am absolutely plagued with scam phone calls at the moment and am on high alert – so much so that I actually hung up – twice – on a genuine caller last week. Give me strength.
• Lurking at the back of my mind is the fact that I lost my bank card the other day and even though I immediately cancelled it I’m still convinced someone is going to clear out my account and leave me destitute. Not that they’d get too far on €127 mind you, but still. I’ve no idea how I managed to lose it ... let’s put it down to a hassled, foggy middle-aged brain. In any case, it’s been hugely inconvenient and also revealing as I realised how lots of establishments simply don’t deal in cash anymore. The most stressful thing of all is when I had to put fuel in the car and I only had €20 on me. The fear of god was in me that I’d get distracted (it happens a lot) and I’d clock up €21 or something like that. Then I’d really be skirting with criminality. It was also telling how often I went to buy something online only to remember I was cardless. It’s surprising how when you have to ask your other half for his card, you end up reconsidering all those spontaneous purchases that you might otherwise have indulged in, that you really didn’t need at all.
A bread machine is the unexpected new addition to Emma Connollhy's household. (Photo: Shutterstock)
• Speaking of which, my hubby is not above giving into a whimsical purchase himself. He arrived home the other day with a sizeable box which he announced as a ‘surprise for the family.’ I wouldn’t be a huge fan of surprises, what with being a total control freak, so my initial reaction was panic. I thought he was after jumping the gun and getting the puppy that we’re talking about. There is never really the right time to get a puppy, there will always be chaos and havoc initially, but a few weeks before Christmas would probably push me right over the edge. Anyway, it wasn’t a puppy, but the panic didn’t abate, in fact it rose, when he did the big reveal of .... a bread machine.
Like a lot of Irish people, I have a pretty serious white bread addiction. Every Monday, without fail, I will declare that I’m giving up bread only to decide by 11am that life isn’t worth living without toast, or sandwiches or just plain old bread and butter. So I feel I’m going to have a sort of love/hate relationship with this new addition to the family. For now we’re eyeing each other up suspiciously and it’s taken up residence in the pantry alongside the airfryer, the microwave, the mixer, blender, Magimix, Nutribullet, crepe maker, etc. Instead of the Pinterest-inspired room I had intended, I seem to have somehow ended up with one that looks like a mini data centre. What about it, dough?!
• Besides that, there’s not a whole lot going on, to be honest. I don’t give the green light for Christmas to start until after The Late Late Toy Show so this is that nice relaxed inbetween phase – even that flipping annoying Elf hasn’t arrived yet. The festive work parties are already underway, though, and for lots of people it’s a more dreaded date in the calendar than the annual review. It’s an event that can be fraught with danger, and the best option is probably not to go at all, but if you’re obliged to attend, remember these few tips that have stood me well over the years: do get into the spirit of things and hit the dance floor (just don’t dance like no one is watching – there will always be someone watching, and ready to remind you about your antics at Monday’s coffee break), do sing along with Mariah like there’s no tomorrow (but again, remember there will be a Monday and it will be best not to have to face it too sheepishly), do give your boss a wide berth in case your brain and mouth experience a disconnect (Christmas parties can bring a case of that on), and crucially remember to have something substantial to eat before you go out. Sure, I can make some sambos once I get through the 27-page instruction bread maker manual. If not for this Christmas, then I’ll surely have the hang of it by Christmas ’25!
