Lord, Lord, Lord I'm so bored.

Pretty much as the title says really. I've an hour to go before I pack up for the weekend, and I'm over it. The high from the elections is dissapating, and while the Irish walloping the Poms in cricket is good, it's not matching the elections for sheer joie de vivre and excitement. Not even close.

The office is freezing, as per usual. I've got Beyoncé's "Halo" going though my mind, and  it's giving me big irritations. REALLY big irritations. Just on that topic, I never realised until now just how gob-smackingly ugly that name actually is. It's really, really bad. It think it's the emphasis on "yonce" in the middle. As a friend once quipped about the Fianna Fáil politician Royston Brady "sounds like something he'd do to you", so it proves with Ms Knowles.

However, having just tried to open the Fianna Fáil homepage in order to copy and paste those pesky fothars, I have discovered that at least my esteemed employer is an equal opportunities politics-prohibitor. Yet another of the multitude of irritating things recently is the fact that all the political sites I frequent, including, bizarrely, Counterpunch, are blocked by the internet filter. I might add that this also includes Hossam El-Hamalwy's blog 3arabawy. It makes the lunchtime reading of Facebook a very frustrating experience.

However, at least it includes the right wing. This is definite, albeit fleeting, satisfaction. And I am heartened by Eamonn McCann's latest article about cuts to the Health Service in Northern Ireland. He quotes a phrase from Nye Bevin "Tories are Vermin". So pithy, so pointed, so true.

And now I've only another half an hour before I can depart. Now that is good news.

God the Builder

The Small Child attends a Seventh Day Adventist creche. It's not a religion I know a great deal about, as an atheist, and and atheist moreover who comes from a Catholic background. But I digress. The creche is good and I have no problem with the religion. So far as I'm concerned, people have a lot of differing views, and the sooner you learn to (generally) respect them, so much the better.

But I digress further. So the Small Child is sitting with her small friends, singing a song about "God The Builder". Her Granny watches for a bit, with an expression on her face that the carers no doubt interpret as loving the song, and a better person might interpret as deep cynicism.

In the car later, Granny asks the Small Child what the song was

"God the Builder, Gran. Mummy and me went to a special store and bought the DVD, didn't we mum?"

Err, no.

Enlightenment occurs. The Small Child is mixing up God and Bob, a natural mistake given that both build, but Bob builds better.

Especially in this house, where God builds not at all.