As reported in this Irish Times article and elsewhere, the small town of Ballina, Ireland that claims to have been home to Biden’s great-great-great grandfather has been celebrating the president elect’s victory. Two months ago, some clandestine community members erected a Warholian billboard of Biden measuring just under 25 meters / 82 feet square (the maximum size before requiring city council approval). I couldn’t resist starting off today’s post with a photo of it:
It’s an odd feeling to have the election finally over… now what?! For me, it’s been a low key day of puttering around the apartment doing mundane stuff… rotating the mattress, changing the sheets, doing laundry, washing dishes, etc.
The biggest excitement has been the delivery of some black-out curtains and a spring-tension rod (designed for a shower) I ordered from Amazon.co.uk for the bedroom. The curtains actually arrived last night around 8:30pm after what seemed like a lot of unnecessary back-and-forth with the delivery driver. You would think that in a country that has postal codes specific to each address that deliveries would be easy. However, the driver ended up calling me multiple times trying to figure out where my building was located. At one point, he said he was near a cafe about a 5 minute walk away from my building and asked if I could meet him there (?!). I resisted the urge to unleash my inner Karen and instead patiently explained where I was located, even asking him if I could provide my Eircode again (which I did). I get it, Dublin is not the easiest city to navigate, especially the Temple Bar area with its one-way streets, etc. That said, my building is right off one of the main thoroughfares of the city (Dame Street), and plenty of other delivery people haven’t had a problem finding me. The driver finally capitulated, saying he would circle around again, so I went downstairs and waited on the corner of Dame and Crow Streets. The small white delivery van appeared a few minutes later, he pulled over without getting out of the truck, and I took delivery of the package through the passenger side window that he had rolled down. He sounded more apologetic in person, in contrast to a more frustrated tone over the phone. From his accent it’s clear he’s an immigrant, and I imagine it’s not an easy or well-paying job.
The curtain rod arrived today. The driver called ahead to confirm the location, then again when he arrived, no problem. (He appeared to be an Irish local, so perhaps he’s more familiar with the area?) The only odd thing was that it came in a ridiculously larged sized box… here’s a photo showing the small triangular tube on the left containing the rod, and the box that was used to ship it:
As I have explained in earlier posts, there’s an overhead light in the outdoor patio hallway directly outside my window that stays on all night, and the blinds in my bedroom window don’t do a good job of blocking it out. Here’s what it looks like in the day time:
The spring-tension rod turns out to work perfectly between the two walls of the deep window well, and the curtains just slightly overhang the sill (which I expected given the measurements). Overall I’m very happy with the result:
Here’s a photo of the exact same angle showing how well the curtains block out the light, even in daytime:
It actually took me a few tries to get a photo that reflected how dark it was with the curtains… the Night Mode on my new iPhone 12 is insane, here’s basically the same shot but with the automatic settings turned on (the orange light on the nightstand is from my CPAP cleaner):
For lunch, I heat up the last of my homemade chili along with some newly baked cornbread muffins I made using the polenta I got in Friday’s grocery delivery:
Another item on my household projects list… my electric company sent me an email requesting that I submit my meter reading online for my first bill. There’s no meter in the apartment, so I have no idea where it might be. I text my landlord to inquire about this, with some preambulatory remarks about the U.S. election, and he says that my neighbor Irene can give me the key. Irene lives in the apartment next to mine at the end of our floor and is the keeper of the garden that transforms her section of the outdoor patio hallway into a magical space. A few of the plants even extend into the section in front of my apartment, which is more than fine by me. However, I’ve never met or even seen Irene, so ever since my landlord mentioned her to me on the day of my arrival to Sprangers Yard, she’s been a mystery. My imagination conjures up an Irish version of Anna Madrigal from the fictional Tales of the City series based in San Francisco. Evening has already fallen, but it’s still early, so I muster up some gumption and do a quick once-over in the mirror to make myself look somewhat presentable before stepping out of my apartment and walking down the way to her door, carefully opening the small metal door at the entrance to her garden. Her windows are dark and quiet. I try pushing a doorbell button and also knock with a few raps against her door, but there’s no response. I’ll have to try again tomorrow. Part of me is somewhat glad for the mystery to be prolonged a little while longer.
Until next time…
