Saturday, July 2nd. This house is gone Telecom mad, that's all I can say. The Lord save us I don't know if we did the right thing at all with all that money borrowed from the bank but sure Sean said it was the best chance we'd ever have to make a few bob for nothing and it beats milking cows for the rest of our lives. The cows still have to be milked, I told him, but he went straight back up to the small bedroom with the calculator he borrowed from Sean Junior. He says he has to be ready for "official trading". God help us all, I hope it doesn't end in tears. Three thousand pounds is an awful lot of money. I think I'll go for a walk in the long field when I have the bread baked.

Sunday

It is no use trying to get Sean to do any work around the farm any more, his head is completely turned with Telecom. I went into the small bedroom which he now says is his study, and he has a picture of Mary O'Rourke on the wall where Pope Paul used to be.

Monday

I'm worried about Sean. He was up half the night talking about the share price and how it would be pitched and whether or not we would get our full allocation. At about three o'clock in the morning I brought him up a cup of tea and he said it would be a great thing if we could "establish a relationship" with a stockbroker so we can flog the shares before the crowd, and especially our neighbours the Flanagans, get into the market. I asked him if a relationship with a stockbroker was more important than a relationship with his wife and children, but he just asked if I had any further thoughts about unit fund investments and then fell asleep. We are going to be shareholders in the new Ireland, Sean says. I think I was happier when we were just small farmers in the old Ireland.

Tuesday

It is the day before allocation day. I think Sean is hallucinating. When I asked him about going to Friday's mart, he said that the outlook for the long-term market will depend on how well the Telecom management can meet the twin challenges of diversification and competition. Sean has started drinking coffee now.

Wednesday

I thought Sean was going to have a heart attack an hour before the launch price was announced today. He was shaking all over. When I asked him if he was all right he said to me in a very odd voice: "Maureen, my mood is one of cautious optimism." I think I might have to ring the doctor.

Thursday

Well, we got our full allocation but Sean isn't settling down at all, he thinks Telecom should have adopted a more aggressive pricing policy, whatever that might be. Anyway he bought The Irish Times as well as the Independent this morning. The Spar only sells two copies, to the Protestants up beyond Callaghan's Hill, but the Gore-Kinsleys are away on holiday and Sean has taken over their order for the fortnight. Sean says he is just keeping his options open and wants to be fully informed and monitor the share price carefully. He is in a state of strange calm today, the first day of trading for Telecom.

I better go and feed the pigs.

Friday

The Telecom price went up by 19 per cent yesterday and Sean, in a kind of hypnotic daze that frightens the life out of me, says we are now worth an extra £570 "on paper". I asked him what paper, but he just remarked that it was reassuring that the US financial markets reacted so positively to the increase in interest rates. I made the tea, forgetting that Sean now drinks only coffee. But he never noticed.

Saturday

The shares went up another 3 per cent yesterday but this morning Sean was pacing the floor of the kitchen and saying that share prices can go down as well as up. This is the first thing he has said about Telecom which I have understood, but wish I hadn't. He then asked me if I realised that the grey market price discounts the maximum possible growth scenario and allows little in the way of upside for the next five years. I didn't.

Sean phoned the postman at home in the afternoon asking what the bloody hell was the delay and I understand he got a very frosty response. If our share certificate doesn't arrive soon I think I might go back to my mother for a while. I don't know if I am cut out for life as an investor, or for living with one.