Craic On

I have been to the moon and back, plumbed in bathrooms and more besides, and all in my sleep. I normally undertake these activities in an orderly fashion in the seconds before I wake up. These days, my adventures have become more numerous because I am no longer a spring chicken and prone to waking up a lot, which involves dreaming a lot. Just before the light came up and I woke up this morning, I had cause to telephone John. John is an upholsterer I haven’t seen for more than twenty years. He hadn’t changed a bit. After having patiently listened to my plea for a 65cm blue velvet cousin cover and new upholstery on an old button back nursing chair, he asked me if there was anything else I needed. I said that what I was really after was a set of casters and a gun. He seemed a bit surprised. “I thought you were practically blind.” “I used to shoot an air rifle,” I said. This was an exaggeration. As a child my brother and I had unfettered access to a lead pellet air rifle that we were pretty free with. In th