It’s a week of ups and downs as Emma loses her PIN number, but finds a forgotten plum pudding in the freezer. Swings and roundabouts, as they say

THANK the lord Black Friday is finally over. It felt like every website I’d ever bought anything from, or lingered on for longer than three minutes, was bombarding me with emails with ‘unmissable deals’ and my nerves were shot. I felt a bit like a Gladiator (more Russell Crowe than Paul Mescal) going into battle as I ducked and dived them and held my nerve until the need to buy something passed, but it was sooooo hard. In no particular order things I nearly caved and bought included: a running torch (I don’t run); a mini blender (I have a regular sized one that’s rarely used); a projector that pairs with your phone (we already have an old school projector that’s never used); an alarm clock that’s designed to help you sleep (no idea how it’s meant to work mind you) and a pyjamas with my dog’s face all over it. What’s the phrase: a fool and his money are easily parted? I am that fool. Pity that fool as Mr T would say.

The only thing for it was to stay offline: get outdoors, get to bed, go anywhere but away from a screen. I read, online of course, that a good way to self-regulate when you were overstimulated by so-called bargains coming at you left, right and centre is to wrap a bag of frozen peas in a towel and hold it to your face while breathing deeply. I tried it and yes, it does work, and I only had a mild headache from the experience. On the plus side while I was self-regulating in the utility room, I discovered a long-forgotten plum pudding languishing around at the bottom of the freezer which we had the following day and which was surprisingly delicious given it was a year old. I regret not holding my nerve and keeping it for this year, as it would have been one thing less to make and do. And yes, defrosting the freezer is on my list this week. With any luck I’ll find a few forgotten mince pies.

My objection to Black Friday aside, we did go to Cork this week to tick a few other bits and bobs off the list and in the very first shop the unimaginable happened; I blanked on my PIN number. I went to punch in my four digits and…nothing. I tried a few random variations, but no joy, much to my embarrassment. The very kind ladies behind the counter encouraged me to take my time, and recounted various stories how the very same thing happened to them, but I think they were only trying to make me feel better. It didn’t help. I always have an emergency €20 stashed in my purse but that wasn’t going to get us very far. It would barely cover the parking, so it was off to the bank in a mild state of panic where thank the lord there were still some actual humans working there and who sorted us out and the emergency was averted. And for those that don’t know, your PIN is stored in your banking app in case you find yourself in the same position. December is the kind of month that can cause the brain to short circuit. 

Anyway, during the week I found myself helping out at a bag-packing fundraiser in a local supermarket. I know, sure aren’t I great. Mother Teresa is only trotting after me. It was the first time I’ve ever done this and I was enthralled. From the beginning it was evident you could divide shoppers into two distinct categories. There were the deadly organised, don’t-mess-with-me types, who had neatly folded and pristine bags-for-life. They had a system and you did not want to get in their way. Some looked like they were going for a Personal Best time wise, and who was I to slow them down? And then there those whose bags looked as tattered as their nerves, who flung them at me, old receipts and shopping lists spilling out on the way, as they dashed back to get all the things they’d forgotten.

I’m very much part of the second group. My bags-for-life are in an end-of-life state. They often get mistakenly used for the Returnables and are all sticky, sometimes with CocaCola dribbling from them. It’s not the best start. Then there’s nearly always some issue with me accessing the vouchers on my phone, but there’s no way you can miss out on the vouchers so I end up holding up the queue and getting all hot and bothered, and that’s before I ever start packing the blooming groceries. I suppose at least I haven’t ever forgotten my PIN in this situation. I think I better write it on the shopping list for the next few weeks just in case. The dreaded Elf is back in our household and that always causes my last nerve to evaporate. Pray for me.

Speaking of prayers, I enjoyed one of my irregular mass visits last Sunday. I’ve said before I’m not a weekly attendee but the older I get the more I get out of the occasions I do go. Unfortunately I had just landed in the pew last week when it hit me: had I remembered to turn off the carrots before I left the house? I was pretty sure I had but I wasn’t not certain. What was the worst that could happen, I wondered, a burnt pot or a burnt house? Should I whizz back and check or take a chance? Turned out that was small potatoes in the end as there’s a new regime on when to sit, stand and kneel. I’m still getting my head around the (not so) new responses, and now this? It will keep us on our toes I suppose. For the next while, the trick will be to sit behind someone who knows what they’re doing or you’re goosed. All that aside, we had a wonderful sermon on staying grounded between now and Christmas which really resonated with my busy brain, and best of all carrots were on the Sunday lunch menu after all. I am still thinking about those cute doggie pjs though… Should I succumb?