Good Rats... 1,2,3,4!

Almost New Years... so how about a good old drinking song? The first voice you hear on this is none other than Shane McGowan of The Pogues. Cool beans! What could be better than The Dropkick Murpys AND Shane Mc Gowan? The answer? Not a whole lot!

Hey I had a nice day... hope you all did too. Not that I did much that was exciting. Okay there was one happy one! Otherwise... A nice normal slow Sunday. I opened my day talking to my current favorite frog. This time I am not telling which. Go ahead and guess if you like. Not really important is it? Naw. A different frog asked me out on a date this week. Hummmm.... this one lives fairly close. I will meet him and give him a fair chance, but I have to say... I don't think I have much in common with this one. He is older than me. No Sean Connery. But you never know unless you try right? Fair is fair.

Otherwise, I worked in the house for a time. Did a bit of grocery shopping. These boys here all think they need to be fed. Imagine that! Let's see... Boo popped in for a bit and drove me around, spent a bit of time with his old mom. Then he took Max up river to visit Max's friends and to get him out of Dumb Potter's Hell. I ran into Max's current gal friend while shopping. I've actually known her for a very long time. So it goes in Dumb Potter's Hell.

Squeaky is home again and he and Lorn are fighting the good battle on any number of games. I have not seen X much of late... we are settling into a good pattern of letting each other live their lives apart. But we still touch bases daily. His crap of a boss left town without paying him is wages for the week. Girrrrr... people like that bug me. So I have worried that he had what he needs. Its the holidays for heaven's sake and no one should go without. But he is holding his own.

The Bear has been difficult to find. What's up with that Bear?

I have been thinking a lot about rain. Yes... I know, what a weird thing to think much about. But you see, I was born on a very rainy day and for years on end, it rains on my birthday no matter where I seem to be living. Granted, it is the rainy time of year that I was born.

I loved the rain in California. There, where I grew up in Fresno, it would rain hard for an hour or so, then the sun would break through and the day would turn to glory! As a child I would rush outside and push a stick through a leaf and set it free in the wild gutters, then run along beside it until it spun around the corner and down the rain grate into the sewer below. I never tired of that game. The stick acted the way a bow does in a kite to make the boat worthy of the rushing water. Very cool beans.

Here when it rains, it drizzles, mists or pours for hours on end. There is no glorious end to the day filled with blue sky and golden light. No Maxfield Parish finish to glory in. No leaf boats to chase. Heck... no gutters to float a boat in either. Just dull, grey, misery followed by more. So today I thought of rain. How it makes my hills as green as Ireland and crazy rainbows that come and go but have no pot of gold. Only drab grey. (For those of you who are sticklers for spelling... yes, that is too a correct spelling of grey. Go look in any store that sells art supplies.... grey is the color on the acrylic or oil tubes. So there! No corrections please!)

I miss California rain. I miss sunshine on Christmas vacation. Yeah... it was the norm when I was a child. I feel like I can grow moss if I stand still here. But it makes us green... and gives us enough water to loan to California. Everything has a purpose in life. I must try to have a better attitude. And here, earthquakes are rare, but they do happen. We rarely have floods, though there have been those as well. I am glad not to have snow... so let it be, I tell myself. Be thankful. I am. But it took some thought to get there today.

Speaking of grey. You have heard C4C urge me to get back to being creative. I relent, dear... I have decided to take back up my pen and ink. I've even chosen a subject matter for the fun of it. But I must put it on hold for a time yet... wait for Tax-mas. My supplies are gone. The years have been long since I last tried my hand and I am rusty. Its like handwriting... it goes to hell if you don't keep it up. Have you written anything in long hand of late? I've gotten so used to typing that my handwriting skills are crap! So I must spent some time exercising that flabby muscle that once drew like I breathe. That's my plan for 2010... to get that back and to begin to do things that once made me very happy.

I forgot to mention something important. Sebastien sent me a wonderful Lighting Bear T-shirt. Sebastien... I have been remiss... look for something very soon in your mail box! Thank you sir for your prompt response! I LOVE IT!!!!! Oh, and DH is designing and making a frame for my print too. Soon I will post photos of both my T-shirt and MY LION! Goodness I love that wonderful piece of art work. Thanks and thanks again sir! I can't wait to get my room redone so that I can properly hang it.

Well, there you have it. My Sunday in a nut shell. And my big plan for the new year. I have others of course. I still intend to keep looking for the right frog who will turn into a prince. I still plan on following my Murphy's rules for life. I will continue to do my walking thing and getting my life back on track. I am hopeful for this new year.

What is your plan for the new year... or do you have one?

OBSESSION / SAT. SCAVENGER HUNT

THIS WEEK'S WORD IS "OBSESSION".

Not the worst obsession.

Watching the sun rise is a good obsession for me.

Following healthy eating rules and working toward getting fit is my most important obsession.

Reading is a healthy obsession.
Ah... you can see that I do get carried away.
Yep, that is my bedside reading pile.

Max's obsession with collage has left the room I am moving into covered in images like this. You honestly cannot see the walls beneath.

My favorite obsession; music.

Green Fields of France - Memorial Video

Dropkick Murphys are darned special to me. You don't need to know why.

This Murphy song is sweet and sad.

This song below by Don Henley is sort of my current theme song. It is all about forgiveness and that's an obsession of mine too.

Erin Go Bragh!

It’s March and the typical spring madness is upon me. Sick to death
of rain, though it’s what makes my home so green and lovely, sicker
still of snow. We had sunshine this morning and now the blue has turned
to grey rain. Perhaps I will cheer myself by splashing in the puddles.

March is also time for feelings of Erin Go Bragh!

I offer you these quotes by Irish authors:

“He was a bold man who first eat an oyster.”—Jonathan Swift

“Being Irish, he had an abiding sense of tragedy, which sustained him
through temporary periods of joy.” –William Butler Yeats

“I have believed the best of every man. And find that to believe is
enough to make a bad man show him at his best, or even a good man swings
his lantern higher.” –William Butler Yeats

(All personal favorites of mine. I’m still having trouble eating
oysters on the half shell… bold man indeed! )

Where I work, it’s all green, white and gold for St. Patrick’s
Day’s coming. I’ve gathered my best stories about Fionn mac
Cumhail (a.k.a. Finn mac Cool)… the greatest of all Irish heros… in my
personal opinion of course. Ireland gave birth to many. Today I read
the first story and got a real kick out of the looks on the faces of the
children when I told them how Finn Mac Cool bit off the magic little
finger of the great giant Cuhullin! There were cries of
“EEEEEEWWW!” but also big giggles.

“This mighty soldier on the eve of the war he waged told his troops
of lessons learned from battles fought: ‘May your heart grow bolder
like an iron-clad brigade’ said this leader to his outnumbered lot.
Known as a hero to all that he knew, long live the legend of Finn Mac
Cool! The brave Celtic leader of the chosen few… long live the legend of
Finn Mac Cool!” (as the Dropkick Murphy’s song goes.)

There’s a story of giant potato, one about Finn’s fine wife, Oona
who is as clever as brave, the hero giant Cuhullin or sometimes spelled
Cuchulainn (Koo-hoo-lin) who’s skin would turn around in battle so
that his heels and calves faced forward… one eye shrunk up tiny in his
head and the other grew huge and red… His hair would drip blood or light
and he entered a battle trance where he would not even know friend from
foe… so fierce was he! At the end of his life, he battled so hard that
he had to strap himself to a rock to keep from falling down as he raged.
Wahoo… fun stuffs!

We have fairies, sprites, will ’o the wisps and leprchans too for the
softer of heart. Some of my listeners are pretty little yet. But for
me, there is nothing like a good battle story with a hero at it’s
heart, bigger than life. I love the heck out of this stuff… no one
embroiders the truth better.

“Out of Ireland have we come, great hatred, little room, maimed us at
the start. I carry from my mother’s womb a fanatic heart.”
–William Butler Yeats. (Ditto me.)

I hope to finish Hal 9000 today. I had a hardware problem last night
that Squeaky has to help me resolve… but then I will know how to resolve
it myself. I hope everyone has enjoyed their day to the fullest
possible…

O terque quaterque beatum !
(We are three or four times blessed!) Believe it.