Snot and Text Messages

Hot tea and a little bed rest for Duchess – ‘sniff’

After a few days of epic builder’s tissues (Definition – ‘Builders Tissue’: when a builder man blocks one nostril and elegantly clears his other mucus blocked nostril onto the ground), Duchess has now recovered from her recent cold. Of course like any fussing Irish mammy I was up in the yard as soon as Micheal told me. I was giving her every herbal remedy I could find, wrapping her in blankets and short of calling a witch doctor to keep the nasties at bay. I still blame Micheal though, he came into work last week with a cold and am convinced he deliberately sneezed all over her.

So why is this even worth writing about? Well as usual there was some Avril style bumbling around the cold and I managed to make a little bit of a fool out of myself.

First, before I launch into my silly little moment, I need to share with you the small detail of my new office.

I have been very privileged to have a new client that is willing to let me, for want of a better word, squat at one of their empty desks in their office. This makes it much easier for me to work with them and to continue look after my other clients. I’m thrilled with this arrangement (mostly the 60MB broadband). It’s just 10 minutes from my house and as you can imagine, I’m still the new girl so I’m being very well behaved and keeping to myself. I’m trying to be quiet so as not to disturb Micheal’s employees and to let him know that I am an upstanding citizen – two things I struggle with most of the time.

Anyway, back to Duchess. On Friday morning Micheal from the yard sent me a message, he was letting me know that my poor darling Duchess was a little snotty and had a little cough. As I mentioned, it was tools down and all hands to stations. I had the Lemsip, UniFlu and Strepsils all ready, Micheal told me I couldn’t give these to her so I gave her garlic instead. Being the diligent horse owner that I am, I messaged Micheal every day to check how she was and was also dropping up to check on her, tuck her in and give her a bed time story.

By Sunday night it looked like my love and attention had mirraculsly reversed the effects of the nasty virus and her cold was nearly gone. Come monday morning I messaged Micheal again….

Me: “Hey just wondering how duchess is, looked like her cold had cleared up a good bit yesterday… Any snot storms today?”

Internal dialogue – Humm, that’s a long silence. Michael is probably busy and would get back to me eventually. If there was anything wrong he would get on to me immediately … hope she’s ok, she’s ok, yeh.

Micheal: “Dear Avril, it’s not that I am not concerned about duchesses cold but I just don’t know. Sorry”

– Internal dialogue –  Ugh, I’m a little busy at the moment I don’t have the time or the mental capacity for Micheal being weird, maybe he’s not in today or something. Odd. Ok, I’ll message him back then.

Me: “No worries just wondering if you had noticed anything different. I’m hoping to come up later today anyway so I can check myself.”

– Internal dialogue – Jesus Micheal is being a bit f**king weirder than normal.

Micheal: “This is Micheal, your new client, if you can smell burnt toast you might be having a stroke!”


Well, out the window went all my efforts of not letting them know that I am actually the scattered, mad horse lady. The morrel of this story? If you know people with the same name, save them very differently in your phone. ‘MICHAEL’ and ‘Micheal Yard’ as they will now be forever known.

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