Friday, April 12, 2019

States of Confusion

When did the Irish become English, and vice versa?

Driving home for the weekend, I pass three garden centres and two car valeting services.  Back in the old days (70s and early 80s) we didn't wash our cars and we didn't plant flowers.

The English were always standing beside gleaming Escorts with hosepipes and chamois, or they were sprinkling seeds and tucking tulip bulbs into freshly turned earth.

The reason we didn't wash our cars was because we were afraid the brittle islands of rust that held the things together would be washed away by soapy water.

We didn't plant stuff because we were all renters, and if you improved the appearance of the place,  the landlord would be obliged to raise the rent.
"The nasturtiums are very nice, Sean, but I'm afraid they'll add an extra two pounds fifty.  Take down the hanging baskets or I'll be forced to make it a fiver."

And look at the Brits, referenda and political confusion.  A division between north and south.  Frustration with the Unionists.  A sense of being bullied by a larger neighbour...

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