cruinne-bheananfa

A Year? Seriously?

2011-09-12T00:45:00.000-04:00

I haven't blogged for a whole year? Why the hell not?
Oh yeah...
Overworking- I worked 93 hours of overtime last fall only to find I can only bank 78 hours, so I got a nice paycheck in December. Not what I was planning.
My dad died in February. I cared for him while in hospice at home & trying to work full-time. That's a couple posts on their own.
My mom struggled with cancer most of the winter. I did most of her appointments. When my Dad died, I left my house, my cats & my life behind. I renovated the second floor in her house,& made an "apartment". The doors keep cat contained but I have no running water, no functioning bath or kitchen. I use the downstairs bath & kitchen for my needs.
Did I say "cat"? Yeah, that's because I put Dhaimhnhait down in September- mass on liver probably malignant, but she was incontinent & unable to eat. Tough call but right call.
Cujo went blind from a hypertensive episode in November. He coped pretty well on medication. When I moved in to take care of my Dad, my neighbor took care of the kitties for me. I hustled beyond belief to make my "apartment" safe for a blind cat & moved in with kitties. Cujo deteriorated rapidly. Despite giving him SQ fluids to support his kidneys, he declined so rapidly I had him put to sleep in April right after I moved.
My house stood alone & unoccupied for a few months. My son lost his job & moved back, so at least the house has a caretaker.
My son & his wife presented me with my first grandchild. A welcome addition to the family after a round of grief & loss, she is the apple of my eye. I try and see her at least twice a month if possible.

So now my free time is completely revolved around medical appointments, cleaning & care, and compensating to my remaining cat for locking her in a small apartment 15 hours a day alone. And compensating to the 91 year old with advanced & severe osteoarthritis, advanced & severe GERD & loss of spouse of 64 years.

I try not to think about life too much.

Party

2010-10-11T21:03:00.000-04:00

Well, we had a celebration for my sister's 25th anniversary 6 months after the actual date. That pretty much guarantees that she'd never suspect a thing.

Good turnout of cousins and friends. I've had a lot of good feedback and few complaints, so it's a good thing (as Martha would say).

The kids helped to decorate and did a damn good job. They got really into it.
Good cousin turnout.

My camera sucks for these indoor things.

The kids were delighted that all their cousins were together. They were very well-behaved. The boys were delighted when I told them the fruit and cheese was self-serve. They complimented the waitresses on how nicely presented it was. I ordered chicken strips and fries for the kids. When Ted heard, he made a beeline for their table and scavenged for a bit. They were highly entertained and happy to share. Some things never change.

We took the opportunity to take some family photos while we were all gathered together.

Maras.

Beggans

Murrays

Four generations. The aunties, sibs, offspring, significants and of course the nextNEXT generation.

Siblings & Spouses.

The music was on but my son turned it down-everyone was having too much fun visiting.

Maras mugging.

The next generation.

Friends and family mixed well.

So, despite all the crazy technical glitches, the actual day went smoothly. Everyone was happy to have an occasion to gather that did not include a eulogy. And that's what it's all about:)

Blog or bullets?

2010-06-28T21:29:00.003-04:00

I have blogged less and less over time. I initially started my blog when I was in school, to catalogue my journey. I have maybe 4 readers. I don't care. I do it for me not for attention. I don't have to prove to anyone else that I can write or that I am clever. I know what I am.
I've had great pleasure using the social network FB. I can post in bullets and communicate in realtime. I have access to a wider network of folk whom I enjoy communicating with. It's easier to post bullets than to elaborate-but it's the elaboration, the essay format that actually helps me process.
I can sum up my blog entirely in bullets as recurring themes
1. I am tired. Always.
2. I work too much and don't have much fun
3. My house is a bit beyond my ability to take care of
4. Plow guys are fickle.
5. My cats dominate my life.
6. I would do anything for my family.
7. Harry Potter rocks.
8. My neighbors are nuts.
9. My family is nuts.
10. I snatch what beauty I can in moments and savour them for what they are.
So- do I end it here & keep to the bullet format?
I'm not sure.
I have been vastly entertained by JSmooth's Fun Facts-he says he will stop at 1000.
I am considering doing them myself and stopping at 1000.
I will see.

Tired

2010-04-17T20:44:00.002-04:00

I can't believe how seldom I post now. Ever since I took up this job I am in, I have expended all my energy on it. A very demanding clientele that is seldom pleased with anything, techs with poor habits resistant to change, management that is less than helpful...
I have spent many hours of unpaid overtime cleaning, clearing, organizing and bringing the site into-well I wouldn't call it compliance but a reasonable facsimile.
Days off have been medical appointments (certainly not for me), visits to ill relatives,and keeping up with the house. Shoveling is a pastime. Kitty litter (we average 30 lbs per week) is another.
My fun activities- well, the jewelry-making is pleasant and those I have gifted seem pretty pleased with my results. I had dinner with some former co-workers & that made me happier than I have been in a long time. I took the nieces to the theatre in an eventful and delightful, magical night. And I have been precepting a practical lab at my college, which is surprisingly re-energizing.
Taking on another work commitment may seem crazy, but the interaction with students has been very very stimulating. I remember being so nervous in school but not so clueless-although I am sure I must have been.:)
I have a membership to Netflix and find I hold onto movies an average of 3 weeks before getting to watch it-not really cost-effective, but I don't have the heart to stop the service quite yet.:P
Anyway-my days off aren't always restful, but when I feel the immune system kicking in, I have no choice but to lay very low. There's been quite a run of nice weather & I got a good portion of my garden weeded, mulched & neatened.
Today was icky & rainy & I was extremely tired from a bad week. I am watching movies today, snuggling with the kitties & laying low. Not good meat for a post, but there it is.

The House Across the Street

2009-11-16T19:30:00.003-05:00

I was doing some engraving today that requires heavy-duty concentration (very expensive pieces)when I noticed this 30-some-odd white guy come out from behind my house & walk up my drive toward the street. He stood on the street looking around then proceeded away. I made a mental note of what he was wearing & his appearance in case a police report might be required later. Ten minutes later, my head down into the machine and my loupe to my eye, my screen door banged with a knock. I just about jumped out of my skin. It was the guy. "Have you seen a really little kitten", he asked. I stepped outside (sharp calipers in hand, does that make me parnoid?). He explained that he just moved into the house across the street & when he took out the trash today, he thinks his new kitten may have slipped out. He's had the kitten 3 days. It's small, he didn't know how many weeks old, but it's the same color as a cat he had seen in my yard (Cujo). I hadn't seen it, and I had been working in the sunporch all day, engraving. I told him to check at Catherine's-she puts out food for strays, and her yard attracts cats.
I resumed my work and as I worked, I thought of the same scenario played out in late September. A sixty-ish guy smelling very strongly of alcohol, knocked on my door looking for his cat. He had had the cat 5 years & was terribly fond of it. He had moved in the day before and intended to keep the cat in for a few weeks until she got acclimated. His wife went out to smoke a butt and let the cat out purposely, thinking it should just get used to the new environment. He called and called, but she didn't come. He was very distraught. I directed him to two neighbors who are out of work and who are crazy cat ladies; they would be more likely to spot the cat than I. I agreed with him that felines need to acclimate slowly to a new home and told him that I had put mine on a harness & leash the first few times out. We live on a busy street & there are frequent animal carcasses. A day later, he knocked again: kitty had come home-could he borrow my harness? I gave it to him and showed him how to put it on her, told him to keep it. He said he didn't like the apartment or the town. I never saw him again and I assume he moved back to his more rural town.
Two people in the same house in six weeks who move in and lose a cat within a day.

Then I started thinking; is my fate to always have a weird house across the street? This house in this small town has several units: I can't tell if it's 2 or 4. There is a never-ending parade of people moving in and moving out. Over the summer there was someone who played violin; he or she practiced in the afternoons, never at times that would bother anyone. It was lovely to listen to and do my work with music in the background. And then it was gone. I wonder why this one house always has trouble keeping tenants upstairs; the downstairs family has been there at least 7 years. They keep to themselves but their dog is always chained to the porch. A forlorn little terrier, my cats have no fear of him & taunt him by strutting on the doorstep, knowing he cannot reach them.

When I lived in the big, ugly city, the weird house across the street was a six-apartment tenement up the street a bit more, across from my friend Sue. There was an endless procession of moving in and moving out, children left unattended and hollering, drinking, fighting and blue lights in the night.
When I grew up in the big, beautiful city, the weird house across the street was a six-apartment tenement right across the street. We had no relationships with any of the myriad people who moved in or out, unlike every other house on the street.

As I worked and thought about all the weird houses across the street, I realized they have always been there and the theme is always the same. Absentee landlord who doesn't care & lets the place get rundown. Misfit tenants who take the place until they can find something better; they seem to move out the minute they do. And anything must be better, because they stay a month or two, a year at most.

Always having a weird house on the street has made me into a wary neighbor; the residents are never invited into my home, although I do interact civilly when necessary. Male residents of these houses make me conscious of my need to hold a sharp object in my hand, such as my keys or my calipers; I am pretty sure my voice registers in alto when I speak to them, and that my city accent comes out loud and clear. I've never had a major problem with the transient people in the weird house, but I don't intend to start now.

Does every neighborhood have a weird house? Or is it just a phenomenon I've discovered?

So Busy

2009-08-30T23:57:00.002-04:00

Haven't had time to blog much this rainy summer. I am now on a real schedule,working regular days. It's much kinder to me in terms of energy. My commute is short and relatively pleasant and I am still deriving new shortcuts. I do so love a shortcut. My latest circumvents the local school system completely and hopefully will minimize crawling behind a bus. The main one involves driving past two ponds rather than a main road. No brainer.
The negative side is the total lack of organization, demanding and unrealistic customers and major personnel problems at this workplace. I like the group as individuals, but I cannot abide the DRAMA. A few of them can't help it, the drama imposes itself on their lives but the rest aspire to create it. I have spent a lot of energy imposing order, logic and routine into the environment. Yeah that's right-me, the Queen of Chaos, wielding order. Lots of effort but seeing results already. Lots of OT, due to a building remodel. I have banked enough time for a short vacation for the upcoming wedding and racked up some nice extrabucks.
The ability to keep to a schedule, and the need to unwind mindlessly has led to two new hobbies; television watching and jewelry making. The increase in income has enabled me to upgrade my cable. It helped that I got a flat screen in a flurry of mass consumption and had tech help to get it going. Now I have bright and clear picture coupled with a gazillion channels and for the first time, there is always something on. I am discovering indie channels, nat geo, history, sundance and HBO. No more HGTV most evenings. I started keeping a record of movies I watched. I still watch very little mainstream tv, but there's a whole new world out there.
The jewelry thing is going astoundingly well. I have made some really incredible pieces. It's a bit amusing the types of stone I have affinity for and keep gravitating towards. I have a good eye, and have been able to afford to indulge in good materials. For the first time in my life, I am letting myself spend some money to have fun. I don't drink, I don't go out much, I don't buy a lot of stuff for myself, so I indulge a bit on my hobby. It's working for me.
Fall is shaping up to be an incredibly busy time, so I am enjoying the every end of summer. It rained so much I never minded working a lot, but I did get to the beach once. I didn't get much down time, but then, when do I ever?

What I Did On My Summer Vacation

2009-06-22T23:00:00.003-04:00

A week in between jobs. I thought of visiting a friend in the Caribbean-she got sick and came back to the states. I thought of accompanying Kate to California and sght-seeing a few days before her new job started=but my mom booked a trip to Atlantic City and asked Kate to Grampy-sit (he's been falling a lot).
So I decided to just stay home and maybe hit the beach a few days- the only days the sun came out were the days I had previous appointments.
But I did have a nice week. My sick friend came to recuperate in some peace & quiet, so I hung around and puttered and watched movies and so on.
The dutiful things I accomplished:
*Oil change and tuneup
*Eye exam and picked out new glasses
*Car inspection
*Banking
*Cleaned the kitchen really well
*Took old clothes to St Vincent dePaul
*Set up new computer
*Bought new tv (the girls set it up)
*Shopping trip with son for items for his new apartment
*Two trips to the transfer station
*Shopped for dress to wear to wedding
*Engraved 2 jobs & delivered both
*Cleaned the clothes closet & gave away a lot of stuff
*Scrubbed the bathrooms sterile
The fun things I accomplished:
*Went out to eat with Son, GF & friend
*Went to dinner w sister & friend after dress shopping
*Visited a friend for a jewelry consult
*Had an ice cream soda at Friendly's
*Took friend to visit some of her cousins, who were delightful to meet
*Played Bejeweled so much my hands ache
*Saw Star Trek again n the big screen with son & fiance & friend
*Cooked a spinach lasagna
*Made a vat of chili with rice & corn bread
*Made a vat of pasta
We watched a real lot of HGTV, but also saw lots of movies, both on TV and DVD, including:
*My Big Fat Greek Wedding (again)
*Pursuit of Happyness
*Miss Pettigrew Lives for a Day
*The Color Purple (again)
*Night at the Museum (again)
*Harold and Maude (after many many years!)
*Young Frankenstein (after many many years!)
*Intolerable Cruelty
It doesn't look very restful, does it? And I still didn't finish vaccuming.
Tomorrow I start a new chapter in life. I look forward to it!

Ten Songs to Define Your Life

2009-06-04T00:17:00.002-04:00

Kate sat on the bus with a music therapist who jawed with her a bit. She told about an assignment she had in college- to choose 10 songs that defined your life. Kate was intrigued. So far she picked two.
I had a much harder time, which intrigues the hell out of me. I am usually a sucker for a meme or a FaceBook quiz, but I admit this one has me stumped. Not the soundtrack that runs in my head- that would be way too easy- but a song that defines a period in my life, how I felt or behaved. Kate kindly pointed out that the chick who shared this nugget was probably 21 and at that age, you probably CAN define yourself in 10 songs. Three decades beyond that, it's more of a stretch.
I thought about songs that played repetitively on the radio/stereo in different phases of my life. Unlike the soundtrack in my head, this would be the soundtrack of the world around me as I lived my life. But the world doesn't define me. It shapes my reactions sometimes but it does not define me.
I need to think about this some more.
Kate figured that if I was having such a hard time with five decades, my Dad's nine decades would be interesting, so she posed the question to Hank.
Without skipping a beat, he replied "They're Coming To Take Me Away"...

The Puca and the Alarm Clock

2009-05-27T13:07:00.005-04:00

I just noticed this is the 100th post! I guess it should be profound or special in some way, but frankly, I post when the muse hits.
The muse hit oddly last night at 3 am. I woke suddenly from a deep and sound sleep, turned my head and saw a HUGE (double the size of Cujo, my biggest cat) black cat staring at me, standing on the edge of my bed. It was big and black and it stared right at me. So I screamed. And the cat turned, jumped down and ran downstairs- at which point I was able to recognize from the sound of the patter of paws that it was Sorcha. Cujo heard me scream and came running to investigate-he is my self-appointed guardian, after all. Sorcha heard him come upstairs and crept back, jumping up next to me. I turned to the new clock radio and it was exactly 3:00 am.
In my disoriented state, the first thing I thought was "Puca!" The puca is a spirit, a shapeshifter that takes the form of an animal like a horse, a rabbit, or a cat. Usually it's a benign being that interacts with humans in different ways, mostly mischievous or annoying, but sometimes the puca warns of danger or guides a human away from danger. It is less of an omen than the Ban Sidhe, but some consider it malevolent.
Once my rapid heartbeat decelerated, and the two kitties settled in to sandwich me, I realized what had happened. Sorcha usually jumps up on the bed on my left side, but on this occasion she jumped up to my right. My new clock radio (which plays my iPod and allows me two alarms, one for work and one for other times) has a time display that is very, very bright. My old one had red lit numbers that glowed dimly. This one lights the entire room, which I dislike; I like my room very dark and never had a nightlight. It is set on dim- the brighter display is at bright as my lamp to me. When the sudden movement to the unaccustomed right side occurred, I opened up my eyes. With the bright light of the clock turned away from my direct view, Sorcha appeared larger as a shadow, and her tortoise fur appeared jet black. As a shadowed shape looming next to me (add in lack of eyeglasses contributing to vision distortion), her outline appeared totally unfamiliar, causing my reaction. Additionally, she usually vocalizes when I look at her (and she has a huge range of vocalization), and on this occasion she did not.
So my scientific analysis of the situation tells me that I simply mistook my own cat for a mythical creature in the wee hours. The inner Celt in me wonders if the puca acted through my cat to alert or warn me of some impending disaster. (Celts are always waiting for impending disaster- it's how we are hard-wired.)
Bottom line- note to self: find some kind of film to cover that damn alarm clock.
My personal puca is again competing for First Laptop position.

It's official.

2009-04-23T22:44:00.001-04:00

Vigils and Beanie Babies

2009-04-12T21:26:00.004-04:00

Vigil services have always been my favourite.
One of my earliest memories is being in the lower church with my grandmother, attending Stations of the Cross. This is done every Friday during Lent, so I got a weekly dose of chanting the Stabat Mater. I try not to miss this service on Good Friday, but this year was a no-go.
The Easter Vigil has always been my preferred service. The church I attended growing up is a huge affair and was considered as the cathedral site at one time. The service starts in total darkness- the priest carries in the Paschal candle, chanting three times "Christ the Light". Each time, we sing a response and we light out own candles from the huge Paschal candle, passing the flame from one to the next until the building is filled with flickering lights. Then with the Alleluia, the lights go on, the organ booms, and the ceremony goes full swing.
My church in Worcester-the parish where my heart belongs- did the vigil in spades. Properly done, the service includes baptism, profession of sin, and confirmation as well as the sacrament of the Mass. We always had at least 5 people being baptized and confirmed, one year we had 19 or 20. The service was usually bilingual or trilingual. Monsignor started the Paschal fire outside in a drum (the boys enjoyed the pyro aspect) and carried the flame inside. One year, the service started at 7pm and he got so carried away with his sermon AND we did ALL the readings from Genesis to St John (optional meant hell yeah)...I slunk out with the boys after Communion at 10:30 pm. We were starved- we had planned to go out to eat after. We did, but they were so surly, I never could get them to do vigil with me ever again and I had to tip the waitress big because Bren had a hissy.
I've tried hard to fit in at my little parish, but I just don't feel the sense of belonging there that I did in Boston or Worcester. It didn't help that the retired pastor was best friends with the priest who was in prison for molesting 20+ children and who got offed in prison by another prisoner. ("Why can't people who got molested just get over it and get on with their lives?") Then the parish got cut so we share the new pastor with another parish. They changed the Mass times and now it's a lot harder for me to make it to services regularly. When I go, most of the time it's at the other parish in the next town because those are the only services I can make it to.
So this year I got to do the vigil at the other church. I couldn't believe the place wasn't jam packed like my other parishes always were-only 3 families with kids under 12, mostly elders with a smattering of thirty-somethings. The altar looked very nice- they had a fountain set up, surrounded by hydrangeas, diffenbachias, and callas. The choir (beautifully robed in scarlet with white collars over their jeans and sneakers) was tuneful, but they didn't do any of my favourite Easter hymns. I had been humming "Resurexit sicut dixit" all day, so I was disappointed. At the Gloria, the fountain started to bubble, which was a nice touch, and drew my attention. Then I noticed- Beanie Babies.
Beanie Babies was a fad that totally bypassed my family, although I knew a few people who got totally into them and collected them the way my mother acquired Hummels and lottery tickets-religiously. I never associated Beanie Babies with Easter, but apparently the person decorating the altar thought that the little waterfall surrounded by shrubbery would be the perfect place to position a lion, a tiger and what appeared to be an iguana (though it could have been the Geico gekko for all I know) creeping out of the diffenbachia toward the holy watering hole. There might have been a dinosaur or two hidden in the hydrangeas of this little Jurassic Park tableau for all I know. And that pretty much blew my concentration on the sermon.
I guess if Easter can be associated with a bunny who gives chocolate, it can also be associated with little stuffed jungle animals coming for a drink.
Happy Easter!

My Commute

2009-04-08T20:15:00.012-04:00

I work rather far from where I live for a number of reasons I won't go into right now. I live fairly close to a major highway and several roads., but I choose to travel as the crow flies across country. I have some back roads and shortcuts that wipe about 30 minutes off the commute I would have if I did the highway. I end up on the highway that takes me close to work.
I pass horse farms, brooks, rivers, fields and some nice panoramic views of mountains. Depending on the time of year, I get early morning light or sun coming up. At night coming home means a starlit sky, or moonlight over fields. I decompress in my car.
This is what I saw all winter. I will follow it up with what I see in spring when spring finally comes to New England.

More dubchas

2009-04-08T20:12:00.004-04:00

I hadn't intended to be so long about posting. I've just had rather a sucky winter. Storm after storm to clear up after, family hospitalizations, some problems with staffing and feedback at work have all contributed to a very long dubhchas that shows no signs of moving on.
I have had several thoughts and ideas for posts and as I have time I will add them.

Dhaimhnhait

2009-03-21T22:10:00.013-04:00

Dhaimhnhait is a complicator. Dhaimhnhait is an enigma. Dhaimhnhait breaks my heart and makes me laugh at the same time. Dhaimhnhait is sitting next to me hoping that I will put my hand down so she can pet me. I cannot pet her-it has to be her petting me.
I was never a cat person, but my husband was always bringing home cats. I was baffled by their behaviour after years of having dogs. I brought home Cujo in 1994. I was jogging in the cemetery and this little cat, about 6 months old, kept running out to me crying. A lady who visited her husband's grave every day told me she had seen a car pull up that morning and toss the cat out and take off. She gave it water, but it was hungry and frightened. I don't know why I picked him up and took him home, but when I did, he made my son laugh so loudly that I knew it was right. My son had been battling his own dubchas, and it was his first laugh I had heard in months. Cujo loved the boys, played rough and hard, learned all manner of crazy tricks, and gave us much laughter. He is protective-he woke me in the middle of the night when someone broke into my home, and he tried to lead me to safety. He sits sentinel in the garden and denies entry to cats, dogs, and squirrels (but he does allow mice so he can torture them).
When I was divorcing, I thought that getting a kitten would help me battle through the long dubchas that followed. Kate and I played with every kitten in the shelter, and I brought Sorcha home on June 6, 1999. I had trained all out cats to stay out of my room due to my allergies, but Sorcha had none of that-she insisted on sleeping on my head like a small fur cap. Over the years, she has moved to my knee; even when deeply asleep, I can feel her head resting on my knee. I cannot sleep well without her. We have a symbiotic relationship-she needs me to support her in the style she feels she deserves and I need to be adored.
Dhaimhnhait is a different story. I didn't need a lift, I was really too busy to take on another responsibility and I was working while I was in school so I was exhausted all of the time.
I was stricken by all the videos of abandoned animals starving during Hurricane Katrina's devastation. Bad enough the human suffering but the countless pets without food and water, living in fear, unable to understand where their humans were gone to-the images broke my heart. I thought about adopting a Katrina pet. My hours do not allow me to have a dog-they need walking and being outside more regularly than I can give. They did not bring any cats to my state because we already had an overload. I wondered- if I adopted a cat here and left one empty space in a shelter, would that pay it forward enough?
So I looked- and this is what I found:

Brook-Lynn

Domestic Long Hair, Maine Coon

More About Brook-Lynn

"I am Brook-Lynn, an even tempered, gentle soul, about 2 years old. I have long tabby fur, much like a Maine Coon. I was rescued starving, and had been used for target practice by some cruel person. But, I have never held that against people, and my wounds healed well. I like to sit next to my foster mom, and love to be scratched on my belly. My favorite activity is to watch the birds and squirrels out the window. I do live to play with my favorite toys, and with the other cats in my foster home. If you'd like a great cat, please adopt me!"

Something about her little face made me so sad. I did an online application, had a visit from the slightly odd (ok REALLY odd) shelter person. I visited the kitty in her insane crazy cat lady foster home (REALLY insane), and eventually brought her home. I did it all right- kept her shut in one room for over a week to get her acclimated and let the other cats gets used to her scent, introduced her slowly, etc. Made no difference- World War Kitty had begun. I had to add two more litter boxes, referee, and vacuum up tufts of evidence from their tussles. Little by little, they all calmed down.

She had once been some one's pet, and was tossed out to fend for herself. She foraged in a semi-suburban area, eating trash and field mice and birds. Local teens used her for target practice, and she has a few BB's still lodged in her larger muscles. When she was captured by the empathetic sister of the crazy cat lady, she was then sent to safety-which meant being de-wormed, immunized and spayed. She's known so much suffering and pain at the hands of humans. It's no surprise that she has trust issues.

I spent hours sitting on the floor reading and studying until she would creep silently over to my side to pet me. If I moved, she ran away. I talked to her all the time, getting her used to the sound of my voice. I tried a bunch of names and she answered to Dhaimhnhait- Little Doe. Like a timid, skittish deer she is, and it suits her. She does not come reliably when I call her, but she knows her name.

It really bothered me at first when she tussled with the other cats. I have since learned not to take it personally- they work out their issues and I only intervene when meanness is occurring. Dev has switched her territory numerous times. For a non-alpha cat in a multi-cat household, it amazes me how she has maneuvered her way into several choice spots-right now she controls the coveted window seat, in summer she loves the open front door. Unlike the other two, I cannot let her outside-she does not come when called and cannot be trusted, so window and door are important to her.

She recently had some dental extractions- more pain. At the post-op check, she had lost a whole pound. They upped her pain meds because she wasn't healing. Each morning before work and each day when I returned, I had to catch her and shove pills down her throat. Then I figured it out-the opioids were making her sick to her stomach. I stopped the pills, her appetite boomed, and she healed up quickly.

She still doesn't get along with the other cats, but she holds her own with them. She finds ways to get me all to herself. Her pleasures are small, but she enjoys them- watching the birds, chasing random objects-the usual kitty stuff. She is safe, she is fed regularly, she is tortured at the vet's seldom, and sometimes her person buys the really really good cat food as a treat. When she needs to be petted, she comes and finds a kind hand to brush against. Occasionally, there is a box. She really likes it when there is a box. Is this what she dreamed about when she crouched in the cold beneath a bush all alone?
I sure hope so.

The Singing Valentine

2009-01-29T15:38:00.004-05:00

My dear friend Ros is not only pastor of a parish but she is also the executive director of an inner-city mission that caters to the poor of urban Montreal. One evening, we were discussing ideas for fundraising and keeping the mission afloat. She particularly liked the idea of singing Valentines. With just a few weeks to pull fliers together and advertise, they ended up making a little money with not a whole lot of effort or cost. The next year, she started earlier, lathered the town with posters, fired up the volunteers and a successful annual fundraiser was born.
Not having a current sweetie, I'll just mail her a check anyway, but it is a clever and sweet thing to do. It stands out from the overpriced roses, and is calorie-free.

Once again, Mile End Community Mission is fund-raising while giving joy to many people. On Valentine's Day, we will sing, by telephone, a valentine of your choice to someone special in your life. We are willing to call long-distance. Please forward this to all your friends, relatives, and colleagues.

All you need to do is :
1. Choose a song from the attached poster.
2. Send us 1) the name(s) of the person(s) to whom you would like us to sing, 2) their telephone number, and 3) suggested time(s) to call - between 2 and 8pm Saturday, February 14th.
3. Send us a cheque for $20.00 for each singing valentine.

Reservations can be made by phone (514) 274-3401 or by e-mail at general@mileendmission.org
In between times, we also call and sing to people who are alone or who otherwise can use a little reminder that they are loved. If you have no one to send a valentine to, you could sponsor one of these people if you wish.
Thank you for helping support Mile End Mission, and every blessing at Valentine's Day and all through the coming year.
The Mission Team
http://www.mileendmission.org/english/index.html

Disney-holic-NOT, Not Keen About the Mouse

2009-01-20T14:26:00.003-05:00

I dealt with yet another Disney-bound family yesterday, giggly little ones with colds whose parents were researching products to get them through the plane trip for the annual pilgrimage to Orlando. I've been to Orlando once on a business trip, and the highlight was going out for dinner with a group of my peers and my mom, whom I had shangaied for a few days in the sun. I drove past the great American Mecca in the dark, on the way home from visiting a family friend. It held no temptation for me then or now.
I have family and friends who go to the DisneyWorld repeatedly, and who feel it's the best vacation spot ever. I have worked with people whose cubicles are decorated with mouse ears and Tiggers. I wait on forty year olds with cartoon tattoos that I hope I don't have to look at when they are seventy and saggy. I am bombarded with commercials, and have been for years, that this is the last chance to see this and this year is the last chance to experience that. And I never experienced a burning desire to cash in the 401K and run, not walk, to the last bastion of pediatric economic exploitation.
Don't get me wrong- I enjoy many of the Disney products. I like the movies, the musicals, the opportunity the conglomerate has given to many of our most creative minds. I have always detested Winnie the Pooh- its creator was estranged from the son whom he based his stories on, and whose life was made miserable by references to the sappy stories. (Bear in mind, I collect children's books.) I liked the Mickey Mouse cartoons when I was young, and recognize their significance in the development of the art form. I liked that they made stories a LITTLE more PC, with strong feminine characters and less negative ethnic stereotyping. I tend to like amusement parks as a general rule, and we took our kids to StoryLand, Santa's Village, Clark's Trading Post, Six Flags & Water Country over the years as they grew (I refused to take them to travelling carnivals as I think they aren't monitored well enough). I just never felt that it would be the highlight of our lives to load 4 kids into a plane and travel to the other end of the country to pay exorbitant fees to eat breakfast with some actor in a mouse suit. And a number of families we socialized with felt the same way. I recently watched the show about the sextuplets screeching their way through the park, too little to really understand and enjoy the activities, while their mom tried to get her camera to work and record the magic moments as she extolled that her children deserved to experience this fun. I had to agree with the National Lampoon parody WallyWorld, that the journey should be more than the destination (deceased relatives notwithstanding).
I used to pull my kids out of school for a week, and we'd go north to Vermont AFTER the school vacations had ended and the crowds were gone, and everything was cheaper. We'd ski all morning, eat a hearty lunch we prepared ourselves, and ski til the lifts closed, then snack and do homework before dinner. At Magic Mountain, the staff knew us, and the wait staff would chat with the kids every year, remembering what they were up to and how big they were last year. At Stowe, we discovered out favourite Mexican restaurant (which we've gone back to numerous times) and saw Aladdin in the theatre. At Pleasant Mountain, we had a condo and cooked in, and had great visits by Joe and other family members & their friends. It was just us and the mountains, the clean, crisp air and the hot cocoa and chili dinners. I never thought fireworks and pirates and big cartoon characters and parades could rival that. We haven't skied all together in a long time, but we still like to be together, and when we cook, we are all in the kitchen. We also made our yearly pilgrimage to the house that holds us all on the Cape, with Vacation A option of early morning hikes and birdwatching, frantic bike riding, kayaking and card playing & Option B being sleeping late, lots of novels, discussions, & hammocks. (Both options included beach, leisurely communally cooked meals, movies and vicious Trivial Pursuit games replete with the Spotted Sandpiper Mating ritual.)
Maybe the hoopla meets that need for some people and it's their way of being together in a special place. It just makes me a bit suspicious that the Corporation has us profiled to a T- they know what kind of offers to tempt the populace with, what deals we cannot refuse. We are told to consume, to expect to be entertained, so frequently, subliminally and steadily, that we feel it is our right as an American to have the wondrous vacation, and to have it yearly. If your child is ill, or has a poor prognosis, arrangements must be made for this pilgrimage as a sacred rite that must be experienced at least once in every lifetime, no matter how short. Americans as a whole have forgotten how to make do or do without, and have gotten very used to doing as we're told by the media.
The whole theme park and cruise line scenario reminds me of a baby on Christmas, overwhelmed with present after present after present, thing upon thing that the child didn't know he needed or wanted until presented with it. And the child retreats into a quiet corner to play with the box.

I am very curious to see how Disney takes the Harry Potter world under its wing and interprets my current favourite series. Will I be a traitor to my own opinions if I decide to someday visit it? I don't know. But for now, Orlando, enjoy the weather and the hoopla while I go to shovel my roof again before the next snow starts. Then I am off to play with a box.

Beautiful but Deadly

2009-01-19T20:03:00.004-05:00

It seems that every time we have a whopping major storm, I am working. That means I get to drive in pretty horrible conditions, driving often behind the sanders and plows. But it also means I get to see some very impressive nature.
Last week I drove home in the quiet night under a full moon in a clear sky ringed with stars. I swear the January moon is the most beautiful. Its light lit the icicles hanging from every tree branch, and made the fields of snow glow blue. I stood on the roof (trusty ice chipper in hand as usual) and breathed the frigid night air as the moon rose higher above my head. The blue light that I associate with January lit the snow on the rooftops around me. Not the safest position in the world but I wouldn't have traded it for anything.
I drove to work in the storm yesterday, a good 3-4 inches already on the ground, and precious little plowing done. The snow came down thick and fast and the whole world was white. It was so fluffy and light when I shovelled out my car, just enough to get it out of the driveway.Hardly anyone on the road, but how gorgeous everything looked blanketed with white, pristine fields and high banks as yet unsullied by plows, footprints or anything else moving. Then I had my first little skid on the black ice beneath the unsanded snowy road, and realized how precarious my position on the road actually was. I saw a few cars that had skidded and one pretty bad accident on the other side of the road. Last night I drove home after the first snowstorm, and the trees were white and heavy in my headlights. There was more traffic than I am used to until I got to the windy country road I favour over the highway. Then it was quiet, dark, and cloudy. The lights of Wachusett gently lit the distance beyond my favourite field. I came home & shovelled a good nine inches, gave up on the driveway and just did the front & back walks, then the roof (again). It began snowing gently, soft flakes falling in the light of the streetlight, hushed, crisp and clean. This morning, after the second snow had ended, I again bailed out another 6 inches and headed off to work. A holiday, so they didn't bother to rush in getting the roads passable. As I came round one curve in Groton, off to my left, the foothills before Mt Monadnock were etched sharply in a way I had never seen before. Each tree, mostly fir, had its cap and crown of white snow on dark green, and each stood out in sharp relief in detail I could not have imagined at such a distance. But there it was. I had to tear my eyes away to negotiate the curve, knowing that the next time I passed this way, it would long since have melted and turned back into shades and striations of green. The long country road that serves me as a shortcut is deadly in bad weather, but it's my favourite time to drive it. The kettle pond, frozen over and white, the horse farm whose equine residents stand blanketed, blowing steam from their nostrils and nudging one another- all sights I hate to miss. Usually a lone redtail hawk wheels down in hopeful search of some small prey moving, or a murder of crows bursts from the oaks beside the road. And my eye photographs these moments to keep forever even as my mind focuses on steering into the skid, staying in the track, white-knuckling the wheel. Now that I have an ipod, I let the shuffle treat me to a random ear candy flow of music I like with no commercial interruptions as the soundtrack to each momentous commute (and I haven't even begun the Irish playlist Ceol Mor yet!). And then I pass another accident...a car well off the road into the woods, and the tow truck man wearily shovelling a path to get it out.
Always the most beautiful moments in nature are the deadliest. And, might I add, the most attractive in many ways. I have always been especially partial to storms. One of my earliest memories is a hurricane. In the eye of the storm, my dad bundled us into our yellow slicker raincoats and walked us down the beach, down to Kelly's Landing and back. Sailboats and dories lay battered and strewn on the beach, torn from their moorings by the force of the gale. I was so little and so overwhelmed by the destruction and damage I saw, but I never applied the thought that the forces of destruction could apply to me, because I was with my Daddy. It started to rain again as we raced the storm back home. It was exhilarating, and I never forgot it. Years later, we repeated the scene, my sister, her husband, my best friend and I, and raced the storm home again, soaked to the skin and scolded roundly by my mom. Having watched multiple videos of stormwatchers being swept away, I know now how stupid it is to put oneself at risk to witness the power, the majesty and the terrific horror of nature. And still, standing on the roof in a foot of powder, knocking icicles off the eaves and surveying the world from on high, I also totally understand it.

Shovelling the Ice Jam Off the Roof

2009-01-14T13:26:00.013-05:00

The kitchen roof, as I like to put it, is not steeply pitched enough for snow to slide off, but quite steeply pitched enough for me to slide off. Therein lies a delicate balance.

Icicles are beautiful, but dangerous, and they are indicators that ceiling damage is about to ensue. My first year in the house, the brand new ceiling in the sunporch leaked and buckled. I researched the problem and discovered why ice jams form and how to handle them. I have kept any more damage from occurring simply by shovelling the last foot or so on the roof after each storm so that melting water can roll off and not get stuck pooling behind the edge and seeping down and in. I have to climb out the window of the kids' bedroom, so I keep an ice chopper and a 40 lb bucket of calcium chloride next to the bed. Doesn't everyone?

Bear in mind we had a huge ice storm followed by a 9 inch snow. It was just too slick to go out after the ice storm. Having the 9 inch snow directly after made it possible, but I had to keep in mind that 3 inches of ice were under that snow at each step.
Over the back door, there was enough melt to clear a whole section of roof, to the left. The furthest end to the right was the slickest and thickest ice, so I salted it well yesterday, just before being called to work an emergency half-shift. Today I was able to chop only about 4-6 inches on that end. I just can't get close enough to the edge to put power into the chop. I salted well, though-it's all I can do.
See how thick that ice is under the snow? I can't afford a skid- the nine foot high snowpile beneath is SOLID!
Cujo likes to supervise from the bed.
Sorcha likes to come right out with me and inspect my work. She sometimes perches on the peak while I work.
But today she just curled up in the sun on the dark asphalt shingles.
When I was done, I wiped out all the icicles from below and shovelled out the steps and salted some more. Just in time for another storm tomorrow. Right now I am finishing my cuppa tea and dreaming about the changes I'd like to make to the house. I'd like to add a room above the kitchen, so the roof is pitched steeply enough that I no longer need to shovel. Replace the bathrooms and open up the kitchen so the space is more usable. Add better storage. Maybe a deck. Pave the driveway. Insulate & replace the windows. A dream for another day.

On my last working day before Christmas, my Karma sent to me...

2008-12-23T23:20:00.002-05:00

12 faxes from yesterday (when the fax jammed and the pharmacist never noticed...)
11 people who wanted me to ring up a shopping cart full of crap (even though they had no prescriptions to pick up..)
10 insurance issues (requiring long hold times)
9 clarifications from providers (including who the heck wrote this?)
8 waiters whose prescriptions couldn't be processed (see #2)
7 people looking for shoehorns, OTC drugs they didn't know the name of, hairspray, or bathrooms
6 backordered medications (metoprolol succinate 50 mg, ethedent, sodium fluoride ring a bell?)
5 calls for help (both printers not working!!!!!)
4 doctors not in system (who then had to be added completely)
3 refill requests for prescriptions with no refills left
2 broken printers (requiring 4 calls for support and one technician who talked to herself incessantly and had to be ordered to stop so I could download prescriptions from the interactive voice response)
aaaaaaand ONE sick technician who called out & had to be replaced (with the tech who volunteered to work a 12-hour day-THANKS, MY FRIEND!!!!!)
Falalala freaking la!

First Snow

2008-12-17T23:22:00.004-05:00

And we haven't even got the leaves out...
Three inches and some with a crust of ice- it was treacherous out there today. So glad I bought 100 lb of rock salt yesterday!
Bren had a half day at work and made the mistake of calling me. One easy guilt trip later, I got him to haul all six bags of yard waste (including the nasty, thorny marsh rose) off to the dump. Of course, he had to shovel out the driveway in order to do this. Hey, I did the walk and my car. The fourth trip, we brought all my trash & recycling as well-never got to do it this weekend as I ended up working. Then, post office- sent all my packages & weigh-ables-he fell asleep in the car. Then I shovelled off the roof. The pitch is too low for snow to slide off, but quite sufficient enough for me to slide off. It gave Bren the heebie-jeebies! Good thing I had chili-he was starving after all that work.
As he was leaving, we did the rest of the drive and the front walk.
THEN I vacuumed the house, washed the floors, finished the laundry, wrapped more gifts, cleared off the tables of miscellaneous junk and discovered that the cats broke a glass candlestick in their last, spectacular catfight. And they seemed to have christened every room with a hairball. Also re-potted a sansevaria that decided to grow sideways and lifted itself completely out of its pot- split it in two. Not a lick of dirt on the roots, go figure. Also potted a Moses-In-The-Cradle that had rooted in a jar. And while all this was taking place, the soup I had simmering on the stove bubbled and filled the house with a wonderful odor that piques the interest of the kitties. Tomato base, filled with sweet potato, Maine potato, zucchini, summer squash, carrots, kidney beans and brown rice. YUM and hot!
Now I work 5 days straight- 54 hours straight. YUK.
Hopefully, it won't be so slippery on my way in tomorrow. I'm worried about Friday- I may just have to stay in Manchester-IF I can find a room! The hotels are full of people displaced from the ice storm who still have no power...

The Dark is Rising.

2008-12-13T18:30:00.003-05:00

The days are darker and darker, so my pyro mode is in full tilt when I am home, which isn't very often. When I am, I am usually in bed. I managed a few days at home when I just stayed on the couch and alternated between clicker and laptop.
Even with limited time, I have still managed to clean up the house (mostly), do some engraving (got me some nice Celtic knotwork frames for the art I bought with my earnings), get my window candles set up with timers so they go on automatically, get the tree up (the boys hauled up the boxes for me) and drive to a bunch more medical appointments.
I have caught a few movies; notably "The Seeker" which is a movie version of Susan Coopers series "The Dark Is Rising". Not so good. I also finally saw "Clerks" after all these years. I moved a bunch of comedies up the list because I have been in such a black and foul mood.
I dreamed about my nephew's significant other. We were at a function and all these politicians kept coming up to talk to me, completely ignoring her. I would painstakingly stop the conversation, introduce her and the conversation would continue, with her adding congenial, intelligent commentary. This happened three times or so, then I extricated her and we left for another function. I was so aggravated that she was being ignored, treated impolitely, and forced into invisibility; the message of the dream was clear. Her opinion is important, and she should be paid attention to and listened to. She is generally fairly quiet, but her observations are always dead on. They were up with the kids last weekend, so I told her my dream. Right after I did , the streetlight we were standing under went out (cue Twilight Zone music).
The kids were pretty funny. The two-year old ripped the heads of all the Barbie dolls and placed the torsos in the tree like naked plastic ornaments. The town had a big celebration in the center of town, culminating in a sing-along and Santa turning on all the town's Christmas lights. The girls were right up front belting out songs while his nibs cowered when he saw the 6-foot Elmo. A good time was had by all.
I managed to get most of my Christmas shopping done. I have a few donations to make, since some of the family doesn't like exchanging gifts anymore. I have already given a few. I have already got a few very unexpected gifts in the mail- a wonderful book "Postcards from Heaven" from Dorry (whose son is in the dedications) and a video about Ireland from Ros, who is campaigning for me to go there again this spring.
Kitties 2 and 3 had their annual checkups, vaccinations and microchipping. Dev lost two pounds, and is facing some extractions, so I am hoping it's just competition from the others at the food dish and sore teeth. Sorcha was so distraught, I had to lie down with her for a few hours to calm her. The clicker fell, and she bolted upstairs in panic..
I am not looking forward to Christmas. Things will never be the same after this one, so I just can't seem to embrace the season. I am sad, and angry, and always so very tired.
The dark is winning.

We had a huge ice storm the other night. I set my cell phone as an alarm just in case. Good thing- the house was dark and cold when I awoke. I slept poorly, as did the kitties, from all the sleet, wind and creaking of the old house. The drive was slick with ice. The big birch was laying flat in the drive, but it was not broken off, just weighed down with the burden of ice. I almost made a cup of tea but left in a hurry instead. Big mistake. The drive to work was beautiful- a winter wonderland, but the trees were all bent over the road, and many branches lay in the way. There were few other people on the road, so driving like Pole Position wasn't an issue as I dodged all the downed limbs. One one road, a car must have narrowly dodged a limb that fell, just missing his car, and he drove into a field and got bogged down in mud halfway up the hubcaps. Four times I got nearly to the end of a road only to encounter a huge tree blcoking the road, had to turn around and go back. I winged my way based on internal navigation until I got to the highway. I made it to work only 15 minutes late, only to find they had no power. They had an auxiliary generator that enabled us to have a few dim lights and the use of some cash registers. We raised the gate manually, and all I could do was ring people out. No computers, so I could do absolutely nothing in terms of filling. The store phones didn't work, but my phones did, so I had a lot of people calling me asking if we were open, did we sell generators, propane, all kinds of disaster-type stuff we need in states of emergencies. I was a little hungry, and very cold. The powers that be refused to close the store, so for 12 hours, I was a cheerleader for the customers in the dark. I worked on my development plan by hand, I put away the order, I researched all the refrigerated drugs to learn how long an excursion they can handle out of refigeration, and I read some pharmacy journals and did some continuing eds by hand. It was so cold, I finally gave up and put my fleece on top of my woolen turtleneck (I was SO glad I changed at the last minute into the woolen sweater!) under my labcoat. I was so glad to get into my car and blast the heater, I thought my toes would never thaw out. When I finally made it home (still lots of limbs on the side of the road), I was greeted by the cheery candles in the windows and the knowledge that my power was back on. My birch tree is recovered and reaching for the sky again. I turned up the heat, put on fleece jammies, ate an egg and went straight to bed.
Today I still feel cold but I let myself jack the heat up to 65. It was bitter outside when I let the kitties out. They didn't want to go out again. Neither did I- did some minor paperwork things but mostly watched movies- Boondock Saints and Elf.
The dark is rising.

Dubhchas

2008-11-05T22:52:00.006-05:00

It's a small black beast that sits on the shoulder, placing its hands over your eyes so that all you see is tinted dark and foggy. The weight of it penetrates each task, and the darkness penetrates your dreams.
Usually for me it lasts a day or so, but lately I have caught sight of the mist in my peripheral vision often. I tend to retreat when the dubhchas visits me- why bother infecting others and making their world dark? But fate has conspired to put dear and beloved friends into my face fairly frequently, so I recognize the nudge that karma is sending, and I will have dinner and enjoy their support and friendship.
October was so chock full of work, and many medical appointments. One of them was actually for me, and I had my teeth cleaned to the rant of a new hygienist who couldn't emphasize enough my need for periodontal work. No. Not now. I have not got the energy. Cujo had his long-awaited dental work, and had five extractions. I had him micro-chipped while he was out- I have driven past too many dead cats on the road recently, a sight that ruins my day. (My son and my ex both lost cats to cars this past few months.) Cuj recovered nicely with lots of attention & Fancy Feast (he is fourteen after all).
My daughter left for South America. I have been coping with some of her unfinished business- totally unlike her, and I am resentful because my hands are so full right now.
After another bout of acute illness in hospital, my sister had an appointment at a major hospital; we are hoping to get her into a program that offers a solution to her advanced disease. I also took her spouse to an appointment; I was so tired, I fell asleep sitting up in the waiting room.
I managed to vote yesterday by showing up at the poll at 6:45 AM. I was done voting by 7:15 and able to get to the place I was working that day on time (1 hr 45 minute one-way commute). Roughly a 17-hour day for me, I was grateful to sleep late today and needed a nap this afternoon as I was flat-out exhausted. Next week will be worse- I have a long-commute 12-hour day followed by three 12-hour shifts 60 minutes away, followed by a 9-hour shift, one day off and a double medical appointment.
No wonder I am in a foul mood.
At least my kitties love me. They have been fighting over who will sit next to me. Fluctuating kitty dynamics are always a great source of entertainment.
I dreamed about a schizophrenic former patient of mine, of whom I was very fond. It's been about 15 years since I have seen him, and he is likely no longer on this earth (schiz meds cause major metabolic and endocrine dysfunction). Funny I should have him creep up in my sub-conscious; last time I saw him, I had popped in to buy a coffee on my way to work. The manager of the shop was throwing him out as he perused his change for the payment of a cup of joe. I stepped up and said, "Mr. H, it would be my pleasure to treat you to a cup of coffee- how will you like it? Would you like a donut or muffin?" I glared the manager down and bought the man a cup of joe, and let the manager know what I thought of disrespect to the elders and infirm. Outside the shop, Mr. H said, "Do I know you? You look familiar, but I don't recollect your name..." I told him who I was, and that I had worked at the place he use to live, and that he was always unfailingly polite to me, never failed to leap to hold the door open when I was pregnant. I slipped him a fin, and told him it was a real pleasure to see him and have a chance to thank him for his politeness and good manners. And polite as usual, he slipped into my dream last night to remind me that things could be a lot worse. Even with delusions and voices in the head- one can still manage to be unflaggingly cheerful and polite.
Here's to tomorrow!

The Life of a Volvo- the End of an Era

2008-09-23T12:18:00.005-04:00

I went to a wedding on Sunday, and as I got ready, I was musing on the fact that most mornings you get up, go out and do the routine- work, make dinner, maybe a little tv or phone chat or shopping, routine activities. Then every once in a while you do something that you will never do again- like get up, get dressed- then join your life to someone else's forever, and become part of his routine each day. Once in a while life throws one of these days at you, when you start off having a normal day, and at the end of it your life is changed forever. This includes a disaster, an accident, a serendipitous encounter, a decision or fork in the road. The wedding, the new job, the diploma at the end of hard work all add up to a morning when you know things will never be the same and there's no going back.
The day of the wedding happened to coincide with the end of an era for me- the ownership of my old '95 Volvo 940 wagon. I bought the Volvo in the tumultuous days of my separation. I drove a real lot in my old job, and I needed a car with excellent safety ratings, great gas mileage and good repair rating. We had two VW vans during the end of my marriage; the newer one fishtailed in snow, had not so great gas mileage, and VW's need constant tinkering. Both titles were in the ex's name, and the insurance was for both cars, so to pay for the van and keep it on the road, I would also have to pay for his van as well, and I made a LOT less money than he did. In hindsight, these details would have probably gotten settled in the divorce, but so many stupid manipulative head games were going on that I asked my lawyer "what if I just get my own car?" He said to go for it. (And it ended up being included in our mutual assets, which penalized me greatly in the financial settlement a year later.)
I did some homework on the net, but my boss had just bought a Volvo and she had the longest commute of anyone I knew, and was a brutally savvy budget watcher. Kate and I went out one evening, and the first car we looked at was this wagon. I never wanted a wagon- I associated it with suburbia and soccer moms. But we tried other cars on other lots, and kept going back to this one. This Volvo worked in many ways, and I ended up becoming the proud owner of a 940 wagon with 65,000 miles.
A friend of mine in Gaelic language classes had sent me to a mechanic friend to get it checked out; he said it was in good shape, and a good deal. This mechanic became a trusted friend as well as the reason the car stayed on the road so long. As parts wore out, my friend replaced them, usually once, maybe twice a year. When I dropped out of the workplace to return to school, the odometer was over 100,000 miles. I talked with him and asked if it was realistic to expect to be able to keep the car running while I was out of the workplace. He listened to my dreams and promised to do his very best to keep it going if I would promise to buy a new car as soon as I graduated.
I had had the car paid off in 4 years instead of 5, and drove it all over New England for my job. It was very handy to have a wagon. I put presentation materials in the trunk, and kept supplies for the many facets of my work. I moved my kids in and out of college dorms and apartments. I stuffed it full of friends and drove all over. I hauled donations from donor to recipient. And my school friends borrowed it to move mattresses, furniture and books all over.
In the 8th year of ownership, I put the first dent in the car, smacking a pole in a parking garage. I was so pissed off- and the garage attendant gleefully told me he keeps a running record of how many people hit the same pole every week in the dark, dingy garage. Other than one dent, the body is in pretty good shape for a 13-year old car. I kept up on the dings with touch-up paint, and no real rust to speak of, unlike many Volvos I see on the road.
Just before graduation, when I was already working after rotations ended, I saw an ad for an incredible deal on a Toyota Corolla, so I went for it. Unlike many in my class, I didn't go for a really nice car, but instead purchased the most basic model I could, so basic you have to roll the windows down by hand. I got an incredible deal for it. I use the Corolla for all my commuting (and put 26,000 miles on it the first year!).
Instead of trading in the Volvo, I kept it on the road, and Kate drove it for the year she was home. It gave her the ability to be mobile and she did a lot of helping out with my family. She also took it to NYC a few times to visit. Now she is moving to South America for a year. There is no reason to keep the Volvo on the road anymore. It has just shy of 260,000 miles on it. It did not pass inspection; it needs a new emergency brake. It's time to move on.
The day of the wedding, as I mused on days that change your life, and I knew this was the end of an era for me. Bren and I cleaned out all Kate's stuff from the Volvo (like me, she leaves lots of crap in the car) and I drove it to my friend's lot and left it there. He called me with his opinion. My friend says he'd need to remove the console and seats to get at the front e-brake, so it would be about $500 to fix. For a car with this mileage, I can't expect to get much money for it, so it's not worth repairing unless I plan to keep it and use it some more. The last car he sold like mine sat on his lot 3 months and got less than the owner had wanted- and it had 160,000 miles less than mine! So if it sells, fine- if it doesn't sell in a few weeks, I'll donate it.
The Volvo was the first car I ever chose for myself. Although it wasn't exactly what I wanted, it turned out that it was exactly what I needed. Yeah, it broke down sometimes, but it was always fixable, and it always bounced back. I had many close calls but I never had an accident. I drove all over New England, Canada, and New York with it. It kept me warm driving in so many freezing New England winters, kept me safe in so many bad storms, and the moonroof gave me sunshine, cool breezes and beautiful views. It had character. Bren laughed at me saying I was emotionally attached to it, but I was. It was comfortable, reliable, and lived far past expectations. I had one last good ride with the roof open on a beautiful & sunny fall day, and I said goodbye and thank you. I left it on the lot in the dark and in the rain, and I hopped into my son's car and drove away. No one will ever love it like I did. It will probably become parts. Whatever spirit or life a car has will be relegated to the good times I had in that old car.
And if I google Bren's address, the satellite picture shows his house- with the old blue Volvo parked right outside the front door. How cool is that?

Number One

2008-08-17T23:12:00.001-04:00

Michael Phelps is Number One.
Michael Phelps is Number One.
Michael Phelps is Number One.
Michael Phelps is Number One.
Michael Phelps is Number One.
Michael Phelps is Number One.
Michael Phelps is Number One.
Michael Phelps is Number One..

What can anyone possibly add to the last eight days?

Word Collage from Wordle- My Tags

2008-08-09T23:39:00.002-04:00

Back in the Garden, Back on the Road

2008-07-30T15:56:00.014-04:00

I had a few days off, AND it stopped raining, so I took advantage of this by crossing a few things off my TO DO list:

Vaccum the whole house and wash the floors. Check.
Haul four weeks worth of trash, recycling and kitty litter to the transfer station. Check.
Laundry and sheets- especially since Sorcha kindly left a dead, headless mouse in my sheets while I was away. Um- good kitty? Check. Also ironed.
Visit the parents- coincided this with trash/recycling day and watered their garden. Check.
Buy a lawnmower. Check. Sears Craftsman electric- I am nervous around motors and sharp spinning blades. I borrowed my neighbor's little B&D electric last year and it was just right for me. I looked for the same, but Home Depot just had some no-name, so I went with Sears- I know they fix and back their products. While I was out, I also hit JLPlum's, Christmas Tree Shop and a few other stores. Woo-hoo!
Buy a lopper to trim out the forsythia bushes in front, the spirea next to the steps and the lilacs on the upper level. Check.
Mow the "lawn". This is not actually grass, but a succession of weeds. The upper level was knee-high; the lower level not so bad because Ted had come over and mowed it once for me. Before I could do this, I had to weed- as in bend over and yank out by hand thousands of knee-high, tough-stalked weeds. I don't know what they are but they are not grass, they are pervasive, and they grow like crazy. I also had to...
Trim out the forsythia bushes in front, the spirea next to the steps and the lilacs on the upper level.
Trim out the dead lilacs; the last of the big hedge work we started in June. There were a lot of dead lilacs on the upper level. See?

That's a lot of stumps. Glad I had the lopper for the the smaller branches, but I used the shark saw on the bigger stumps. Still need to rake but first the lawn...
I also pulled an incredible amount of weeds:
There is still a considerable amount of gardening to do; I need to weed my stone garden out, & dig up a marsh rose in it that's trying to rule the world (I cut it back, but it needs to be eliminated.)
Lora came over and offered me a Rose of Sharon bush that will do quite well in place of the marsh rose (which is too thorny and send out huge long creepers that tear me up when I'm gardening). I am pretty excited, so I will do the perennial garden next. Because I knew I'd be digging and planting, "I was at Home Depot and could not resist these:
Fleabane, phlox and something else purple. All the deadly things in my garden have died off (gardening irony?), so I have some empty spaces. Also, between Ted's mow job and the avid helpers, my butterfly bush got yanked up. I'll need a few more fillers, and I usually get my plants at a nursery, but these will do fine for now and the price was right. So "I am off again on my travels, then when I return, I will finish the yard, if the creek don't rise and the Good Lord's willin'.
The kitties will be pissed- they love the jungle. Can you even see Sorcha hiding in the perennial bed weeds? Only if I move them...
Of course, Cujo prefers to just loll around in the catmint:
So the "lawn" looks at least more controlled. I need another extension cord so I can reach the very end, but the jungle has been tamed.

Hey, look! The Alzheimers fundraisers forgot to take down their sign from the race last week!
Is that more irony?
OK, I am all stinky and sweaty, so it's time to take a shower and get packed, and get ready for a cookout. I am so psyched, but I will have to leave it early to drive up to the place I am working tomorrow (more that 2 hours away from where I will be:( !)
But my jungle is starting to be tamed. Look at these rust-colored daylilies!
And the mallows! I found a scion growing in the center of the lower lawn, so I transplanted it to the corner and I hope it takes. This one is the mommy...
Even though I am far from done, I made a very good start, especially since I have to do it in spurts. My energy is not consistent, and I wheeze when I work too hard. But I am glad I got so much done, and I look out and feel satisfied. I think the day is fast approaching when I" will need to hire someone to come and do the yardwork for me, but for now, it's ok.

100 Books Meme

2008-07-28T23:05:00.003-04:00

This one is a list of books. My star-rated favourites are in red, ones I have read in bold, un-read plain and plan-to-reads in italic.

1 Pride and Prejudice - Jane Austen-I have read most of her works. The social strata and rules are complex and foreign but a love story is a love story and the bad guys get comeuppance. What's not to like?
2 The Lord of the Rings - JRR Tolkien - I have read nearly everything JRRT has written. I find his worlds intricate, complex and thorough, as well as just damn entertaining.
3 Jane Eyre - Charlotte Bronte. Broody hero who plays mind games, but she still loves the guy.
4 Harry Potter series - JK Rowling-see previous posts. Again- great world, great characters, rollicking storylines.
5 To Kill a Mockingbird - Harper Lee. Didn't really like it.
6 The Bible - I’ve read most of it. The summer I was thirteen, I decided to read it, unguided. I have gone back and read parts of it again. I think a study group might be nice to do someday.
7 Wuthering Heights - Emily Bronte. I didn't like Heathcliffe and Cathy was a wimp. Her sister was the better author.
8 Nineteen Eighty Four - George Orwell. I read and re-read this in my teens and found it chilling.
9 His Dark Materials-on my to-read list
10 Great Expectations - Charles Dickens. Not my favourite Dickens book.
11 Little Women - Louisa M Alcott. Every little girl born in the US in this century has read this. And cried over Beth. I liked Little Men better, though, and Rose in Bloom better still.
12 Tess of the D’Urbervilles - Thomas Hardy. Still better than the movie.
13 Catch 22 - Joseph Heller. Read this in my twenties, but it didn't make a huge impression on me.
14 Complete Works of Shakespeare - I’ve read many of his works , including the sonnets; my mom had a complete works volume in tiny print. Can't claim to have read all, though.
15 Rebecca - Daphne Du Maurier. I liked this one when in my teens.
16 The Hobbit - JRR Tolkien. See above.
17 Birdsong - Sebastian Faulks. Never heard of it.
18 Catcher in the Rye - JD Salinger. Amusing, but not on my list of greats.
19 The Time Traveller’s Wife - Audrey Niffenegger. Nope.
20 Middlemarch - George Eliot
21 Gone With The Wind - Margaret Mitchell. Very good book. You can get lost in the drama. Scarlett was a total uneducated bitch, though- what a waste.
22 The Great Gatsby - F Scott Fitzgerald. It was interesting.
23 Bleak House - Charles Dickens. On the list- one of the few Dickens books I haven't gotten to.
24 War and Peace - Leo Tolstoy. On the list- one of these days when I have time.
25 The Hitch Hiker’s Guide to the Galaxy - Douglas Adams - laughed my fanny off over this series. Gotta love sci-fi!
26 Brideshead Revisited - Evelyn Waugh. Nope.
27 Crime and Punishment - Fyodor Dostoyevsky. Nope
28 Grapes of Wrath - John Steinbeck. Yup. Sad.
29 Alice in Wonderland - Lewis Carroll. Yup. He had to have been on acid.
30 The Wind in the Willows - Kenneth Grahame. Weird. And I usually like fantasy, but these talking rodents didn't do it for me. Brits can be very weird.
31 Anna Karenina - Leo Tolstoy. Nope
32 David Copperfield - Charles Dickens. Good one, but Dora was a wuss.
33 Chronicles of Narnia - CS Lewis. Loved them.
34 Emma - Jane Austen
35 Persuasion - Jane Austen
36 The Lion, The Witch and The Wardrobe - CS Lewis Hello? this is on twice?
37 The Kite Runner - Khaled Hosseini. Just heard of it.
38 Captain Corelli’s Mandolin - Louis De Bernieres
39 Memoirs of a Geisha - Arthur Golden - liked it and enjoyed the movie too.
40 Winnie the Pooh - AA Milne. This kind of crap makes me want to vomit.
41 Animal Farm - George Orwell
42 The Da Vinci Code - Dan Brown
43 One Hundred Years of Solitude - Gabriel Garcia Marquez
44 A Prayer for Owen Meany - John Irving
45 The Woman in White - Wilkie Collins
46 Anne of Green Gables - LM Montgomery. Loved everything she wrote.
47 Far From The Madding Crowd - Thomas Hardy
48 The Handmaid’s Tale - Margaret Atwood - Atwood is a genius.
49 Lord of the Flies - William Golding
50 Atonement - Ian McEwan. Not yet.
51 Life of Pi - Yann Martel. Not yet
52 Dune - Frank Herbert - read most of the Dune books but they just won't stop- now his son writes them. Enough already!
53 Cold Comfort Farm - Stella Gibbons. Never heard of it.
54 Sense and Sensibility - Jane Austen
55 A Suitable Boy - Vikram Seth.Never heard of it.
56 The Shadow of the Wind - Carlos Ruiz Zafon.Never heard of it.
57 A Tale Of Two Cities - Charles Dickens. A favourite- "tis a far far better thing I do..."
58 Brave New World - Aldous Huxley
59 The Curious Incident of the Dog in the Night-time - Mark Haddon. Very interesting- I loved his perspective.
60 Love In The Time Of Cholera - Gabriel Garcia Marquez. Not yet.
61 Of Mice and Men - John Steinbeck. Sad.
62 Lolita - Vladimir Nabokov - Gripping.
63 The Secret History - Donna Tartt. Never heard of it.
64 The Lovely Bones - Alice Sebold -
65 Count of Monte Cristo - Alexandre Dumas
66 On The Road - Jack Kerouac - Nope.
67 Jude the Obscure - Thomas Hardy. Had to read in college. Blocked it out.
68 Bridget Jones’s Diary - Helen Fielding
69 Midnight’s Children - Salman Rushdie
70 Moby Dick-Herman Melville. Not yet, but a friend's husband write his dissertation on Melville.
71 Oliver Twist - Charles Dickens. Yup.
72 Dracula - Bram Stoker. Yup. One summer I read a lot of horror. HG Lovecraft was my favourite. I swore I could hear scratching in the walls...
73 The Secret Garden - Frances Hodgson Burnett - Yup.
74 Notes From A Small Island - Bill Bryson. Never heard of it.
75 Ulysses - James Joyce - If I had a nickel for every time I picked this one up and tried to get through it… I did read Portrait of the Artist as a Young Man, and was equally confused.
76 The Bell Jar - Sylvia Plath - Chilling. Loved it.
77 Swallows and Amazons - Arthur Ransome. Never heard of it.
78 Germinal - Emile Zola. Nope.
79 Vanity Fair - William Makepeace Thackeray. Nope.
80 Possession - AS Byatt. Never heard of it.
81 A Christmas Carol - Charles Dickens. Loved it.
82 Cloud Atlas - David Mitchell
83 The Color Purple - Alice Walker. Great story.
84 The Remains of the Day - Kazuo Ishiguro - nope.
85 Madame Bovary - Gustave Flaubert. nope.
86 A Fine Balance - Rohinton Mistry. Never heard of it.
87 Charlotte’s Web - EB White. Eh. Talking bugs and pigs.
88 The Five People You Meet In Heaven - Mitch Albom. I don't think so.
89 Adventures of Sherlock Holmes- Arthur Conan Doyle. yup.
90 The Faraway Tree Collection. Never heard of it.
91 Heart of Darkness - Joseph Conrad. No but I adore "Light in the Forest".
92 The Little Prince - Antoine De Saint-Exupery. Wrote a paper on it in French class.
93 The Wasp Factory - Iain Banks. Never heard of it.
94 Watership Down - Richard Adams. Yup.
95 A Confederacy of Dunces - John Kennedy Toole. Never heard of it.
96 A Town Like Alice - Nevil Shute
97 The Three Musketeers - Alexandre Dumas.nope.
98 Hamlet - William Shakespeare. Yup. "What a piece of work is m an, how noble in reason..."
99 Charlie and the Chocolate Factory - Roald Dahl. Yup
100 Les Miserables - Victor Hugo. It was a tough read, but I did it.

So- I read 56 of 100. However- two were counted twice- once as a series, once as a book. A big sprinkling of children's books- 13 (although the HP series is listed as one) entries.

I collect children's books, and I surely don't consider Pooh to be a must-read.

I do not fear to say I never heard of a book on the list. What standards were used to compile it? Are they books every educated person should have read? Books that most Americans most likely would have read? Am I a moron because I haven't gotten around to Salman Rushdie? I've read a number of other Nobel prizewinners, some of whom most Americans wouldn't recognize.

Maybe I need to make my own top 100 list.

Bridal Showers and Thunderstorms

2008-07-27T23:17:00.008-04:00

A friend's daughter had her bridal shower. This family was the first I met when I first moved to the house we bought, back in the days when I was a young wife and mother of three. I spent many mornings quaffing instant coffee at their table, and afternoons sucking down gallons of lemonade while the kids played in the kiddie pools. Our kids did scouts, CCD, swim lessons and BioMath together. As my boys got older and involved in more manly activities, we were together less but always stayed in touch. She drove the kids-hers and mine- to school in the mornings because she enjoyed listening to them. I made them take the bus. The girls and I spent a lot of time cooking things, eating them and playing games. We always cooked when we were together.
When their elder daughter had her shower, I wanted to give her something personal I thought she would enjoy. One of my own favourite wedding gifts was a set of bowls- bright, colorful and practical, so I thought of the giver every time I pulled them out. Her registry included cookie sheets, so I went with those. Then I had an idea. I saw a big baking bowl, so I bought that too, and went to the grocery store and bought a small bag of flour, and all the ingredients to make snickerdoodles, one of her favourites. (They loved rolling the balls of dough into cinnamon sugar...) I included the recipe on a card. She opened it, immediately got it and loved it. At her wedding, the favours were a cookie cutter with the snickerdoodle recipe attached.
So I needed to replicate the magic for daughter number two. Registry in hand, I wandered around the store, and all the good kitchen gadgets that were on the list were either fulfilled or not in stock. I went with a water filter that she would use every day, and hopefully think of me once in a while. I was blanking on the personal part when all of a sudden I had the idea.
Her parents went to a wedding and I had the girls for an overnight-she was eight or nine. A sudden thunderstorm moved in and she panicked- she was terrified of thunder. There was only one cure for thunder- Rice Crispy squares. We got her distracted stirring melting marshmallow, and the next thing you know, the storm was gone, the stars were out, and we were all snacking on slightly burnt bars. She had braved it out, she was ok, and we had a rousing game of Pictionary before they trouped upstairs to bunk out in sleeping bags with the resident ghost.
So today, she opened her card and read it and called out "I know who this is from..." There was a bowl from her dish set containing a bag of marshmallows, accompanied by a box of Rice Crispies. She proceeded to tell everyone there the story...
"Didn't we burn them?" asked her sister.
She got a lot of lovely things, and a lot of gifts that were equally as personal. We all had a nice time watching her enjoy her gifts and acknowledging every person there.
People were milling about and chatting as the party wound up. The sky got darker and it began to pour, and then there was a big clap of thunder. She slipped into the chair next to me and put her arm across my shoulder, and we both laughed.

Rice Crispy Squares
One 10 oz bag of marshmallows (or 4 cups mini-marshmallows)
Six cups of Rice Crispies
3 Tbs butter or margarine

In a large saucepan, melt the butter on low heat. Add in the marshmallows slowly, stirring until they are completely melted. Remove from heat and stir in the cereal until thoroughly coated. Spread into a greased (Pam, butter or margarine- your choice) baking dish 13x9x2.
Cut into squares and then let cool.
Eat and sit back and enjoy the thunderstorm.

Sleeping

2008-07-21T23:34:00.003-04:00

Sleeping is my favorite hobby. I used to have lots of activities I liked to do. Right now, I am working so much I resent the time I have to do housework. I can't sleep all the time but I can't seem to get enough sleep. One to three hour commutes plus 13 hour days means I don't get half enough sleep. Half the time I am too tired to make something to eat so I nosh on cheese and crackers.
Last week I did 4 straight 12-hour days and a weekend (9 hours a day) then had 2 days off to clean and do my errands. This week I did 3 12's and a weekend.
I woke up this morning to my son calling me- he was driving by and saw the car so he came in. I was really groggy and hard to rouse, and this was 10 am. However, I don't get their company very often, so I try and make an effort when the kids stop by. I had a cup of tea and chatted with him about school a few minutes before he headed back to work. The kitties were all over both of us, desperate for attention.
I was still pretty tired, so I resolved to just rest, and do nothing for one day. Watched a Netflix movie and decided to take a nap when the thunderstorms moved in. I crawled into bed around 3:30 and didn't wake til 8:30 pm. I've been yawning since 10 pm again, so I am hitting the pillows again.
Sometimes ya just need to sleep.

Yes It's Yet Another Meme...

2008-07-06T22:01:00.002-04:00

It's pretty obvious I am a sucker for a meme.
This one is from my friend drgnfille, aka nikachica.

1. My username is _____ because ____.
BheanAnfa...because it's been my nick on the net since I first logged in. I remember being so nervous chatting that I didn't use much English at first...

2. My name is _____ because ______.
So post-war American that I have hated it all my life.

3. My journal is titled ____ because ____.
Cruinne-BheanAnfa just means BheanAnfa's World. Welcome to it. It confuses the hell out of me, so I don't expect you to understand it.

4. My friends page is called ____ because ____.
Door Number Three because it's her third site and the good stuff is always behind Door Number #3...

5. My default userpic is ____ because ____.
My graduation. One of the happiest days in my life. I still can't believe I did it. :)

The Lights in the Sky and the Carillion

2008-07-04T21:46:00.010-04:00

When I was very little, the fireworks for the city of Boston were shot off from a barge off Carson Beach. All the aunties and cousins would converge on my house and we'd pack up thermoses of lemonade, blankets and citronella candles. Uncles Bob and Tom were always good for producing sparklers (illegal in Massachusetts), which we would wave in the dark to make circles of light. The big boys from the corner would lob cherry bombs and get yelled at by the moms. We'd chase each other about the sand until the show began, then we'd sit on our towels and "Ooooh!" in unison.
Later, the show was moved to the Charles River, and as a teen, I'd head over with groups of friends to the Hatch Shell to hear the Boston Pops concert and watch the synchronized firework show. First would be a few opening acts. Then when darkness fell, conductor Arther Fiedler would put together a grand show of Broadway tunes, popular songs and classical works by Copland and Sousa. The climax came when he would start "The 1812 Overture" by Tchaikovsky- we'd be on our feet the minute we heard the first strains. The final movement was when the fireworks started and we'd roar so loud you could hear us on the Pike. Then he would lead us in medley, one patriotic song after another. Thousands of us singing and dancing to "You're a Grand Old Flag", "God Bless America", "This Land is Your Land" and "Yankee Doodle Dandy", all to the accompaniment of spectacular fireworks.
The best year ever was the Bicentennial- 1976. We determined to be there for this monumental occasion, and we were at the Hatch Shell by 8am staking out our space with blankets and beach towels. Rich and Johnny were five years old, and we dragged them along. We played games and threw frisbees and sang all day in the hot sun. More and more people arrived to begin staking out their spaces so close to us we could barely move. At nearly sunset, we made one last run to the Port-a-Potties and the lines were tremendous. Someone took pity on us because of the kids and let us go ahead. As we stepped out of the potty area and headed back to the footpath, a row of security blocked out way and a limo pulled up. Out stepped Arthur Fiedler right before us and he waved at us as he went by.
We slowly made our way through a tremendous crush of people, heading back to our blankets where the menfolk held out places. Soon there were so many people we could not avoid stepping on blankets and excusing ourselves as we passed. The throng became so thick that about 100 feet before we got back, we couldn't walk any further. We called and waved to our friends, but we couldn't get through the crush. This big burly guy saw our dilemma, lifted Rich up and passed him along to the next guy; Johnny, Jan and I followed suit. Perhaps it was a primitive kind of crowd-surfing, but it was pretty surreal and yet really reassuring to be passed gently, safely and with great good humour back into the waiting arms of our boyfriends.
Settled back on our now-dwindled personal space, we were just in time for the music to begin.
We sang along and enjoyed the music with about 800,000 of our fellow humans.
And then the piece de resistance- the first strains of the 1812 Overture. The springtime motif, the Russian anthemn, the Marsellaise rose and clashed and fell and soared. The final motif, the martial battle theme rose, and the National Guard shot off the cannons over the water as the fireworks exploded, and every church bell near the Charles pealed in unison. There is no memory that recalls the Fourth of July so quickly to mind as the acrid smell of the cannons, the matching reverberating boom of your heart in your chest, and the sound of church bells echoing the orchestra's tempo. Boston owns this one unlikely theme to struggle and hope, because the Maestro put together all the elements that make it so gloriously unique; church bellringer groups, soldiers, firework companies... eat yer heart out, NYC!

I may have gone to the Charles on the Fourth a time or two after that, but nothing could ever equal the magic of that night. I always tried to get my kids to go with me when they were younger, but they had no interest in facing the huge crowds and having to stake a seat so early in the day. The fireworks in Worcester were basically a yawn after what I was used to. We went a few times in Arlington, which weren't too bad for a small town, and the locals were pretty entertaining. The last time, I went in 2000 with cousins from England, who really enjoyed seeing how Americans celebrate. The town I am in now does fireworks I watch from the end of my driveway- two years ago a young black man, an honor student, was beaten to death by two local thugs at the fireworks display. Doesn't make me eager to participate.

So the last few years I have worked, but I do get home in time to watch the show on TV. As the years have passed since Fiedler died, Keith Lockhart has risen to the occasion with gusto. My one complaint is that the fireworks are synched to canned music now instead of the live performance. The musical choices are a bit weird at times. This year's lineup was a bit better, but Pavarotti? It's also gotten a bit heavy on the country- not the usual type of music you hear in urbane Beantown. Apparently, since it's aired nationally, they want to please a wider American musical taste. The best fireworks this year were synched to "I'm Shipping Up to Boston" by the Dropkick Murphys (ok maybe I'm prejudiced about their awesome music, but they WERE the coolest firework FX during that song).

Don't believe me? Check it out for yourself. Go here:
http://www.july4th.org/gallery.htm

Traveling

2008-06-29T23:06:00.004-04:00

I am a little ambivalent about traveling. I like meeting new people, seeing new places and doing things a bit differently. On the other hand, I like being at home. After the winter I have had, just being home and not having to go out is a huge treat. Truly exquisite days involve staying in my jammies, watching a flick and napping.
I have done a bit of traveling for work lately, usually staying away for 2 days at a time. Since I work long shifts, I don't get to really see the towns and cities where I work. Today I saw a road in daylight that I have traveled numerous times, but always in the dark. The first time I stayed over, I brought just what I needed. This time I brought my laptop (checked my email but never did blog) and a bathing suit, intending to use the hotel pool(didn't happen). Instead of swimming and getting some exercise, I found out that the Harry Potter OOTP movie was on HBO and I hurried back to my hotel to watch it. Kind of stupid, but I looked forward to it all day. Then I had a nice, leisurely bath.
Eating is hard when I am away. "Continental breakfast" translates to "no eating for you." I usually just get a coffee (gotta have Dunkin Donuts) and eat lunch or something. My sis yells at me because she knows I am just as content to eat crackers and cheese for a meal. I can expense breakfast and dinner, but seldom do- I grab some cheese or yogurt and call it dinner. This trip I ate at two chain restaurants. It was ok. Nothing great but I haven't time or energy for hunting down great restaurants. At least I got some protein and veggies.
I miss my kitties when I am away, like any self-respecting crazy cat lady. I got Bren to come visit them first trip, Buck came second time, Kate will visit the next trip. If I am gone 3 days, they need to be fed and watered by day #2- it's just too hot to leave much food out. When I come home, they shoot out the door as if from a cannon, then race in to chow. I usually bring home some fancier grub than they get daily, just to keep them looking forward to me. Bribery, but it works.
We had a huge thunderstorm roll in just as I was leaving. I had the challenge of driving home in it, but the sun came out halfway home.
It's nice to be home.

Hedging Bets

2008-06-29T23:03:00.019-04:00

One of my neighbors came over and proposed that she and a group of neighbors wished to help me trim my hedge border on Saturday. I explained to her that I would be working three 12-hour shifts back-to-back an hour away, and I would be in no shape to be up early working in the yard. She said they were ok with that but she had 6 volunteers to help. I was really not happy about being pushed into doing the work at the convenience of others when I knew how tired I would be, but all my work friends said, hey, let them help, free labor and they're asking you. Another reason to be embarrassed- my yard looks so bad my neighbors want to fix it.
The border is lilac trees, set out about 40 years ago by the family who lived here. I have the boys cut back the stray saplings every fall, but we didn't get to it last year and there was so much storm damage over the winter. Multiple limbs were dead and hanging and it really did look atrocious. I have daylilies- some original and some donated by a neighbor- under the lilacs.
In the corner is my quince bush, which you couldn't get to. (My former house had a whole border of quince, which I loved and missed horribly when I moved- then, in spring, up popped one lonely old quince under the lilacs. I considered it an omen at the time.)
I woke around 11 am on Saturday and the crew had been hard at work since 10:30- and I never heard them. One neighbor brought his truck to haul the debris to the dump. The other brought tools- saws, clippers, secateurs, ladders. They had already cut down a number of the older, split lilacs and were busy as bees. I brought out water, took a quick cup of tea, and joined them. I ordered mulch from a local supplier to be delivered late afternoon. It was a hot, clear day, well into the eighties. We had ash, mulberry, hawthorne, catalpa and maple saplings invading the lilacs. One neighbor focused on pulling the weeds from the daylilies and the rest of us hacked away at the branches. By one pm, three truckloads of limbs and brush had been carted off to the brush dump.

OK- so it's pretty overgrown...

Getting another load ready for the brush dump.

All together now...

Decimation.

Nearing the end- making the tops even.

It was so hot. Staying hydrated was an effort. Most folks quit around 2 pm, and I kept going a while. I had to sit and re-hydrate for a while- my asthma made it hard for me to breathe after exerting myself. When I came back out, my last neighbor took her break. She had leveled all the trees at about 6 feet high, just to even them out, thinking they'd look better.
The guy came with the mulch and just dumped it in the driveway, so my neighbor came back out again. I started laying it out around all the daylilies and lilacs. I had put in a border of pavers, but she showed me how to make a clean line with a pickaxe so the mulch rested just inside. I ended up putting yet another load of brush on the lawn that will get carted off to the dump someday soon. It took a few more hours to lay down the mulch and it just wore me out completely. My friend borrowed a weed-whacker and set to on what should be a lawn but is a semi-dead collection of various weeds. I begged her to stop because I could do no more and finally she did around 7 pm.
It was really incredible of my neighbors to do this for me. I felt guilty for being so tired and unable to be energetic and do a lot. But, as my neighbor said, it was in their power to do it and they did. It was that simple.
I took a few pictures early in the day, and a few at the end. This is what my hedge looks like after the "decimation" as the neighbor's daughter called it.

Why look- the quince is visible now that the dead trees are gone!

Mulch on the corner.

Nice and even on the street side.

My shadow is as long as the day seemed- but it looks so much better!
THANK YOU EVERYBODY!!!

So How Hot Is It?

2008-06-10T22:57:00.002-04:00

The northeast US is undergoing a huge heat wave. Dan got my air conditioner in the parlour window. I keep the doors shut and I have one room it's easy to breathe in. I can't sleep in air conditioning so I have a fan in my room.
So anyhow, my morning routine is get up, use the bathroom, come downstairs. Usually the kitties escort me to the cabinet where the cans of wet food are kept, chatting and bickering all the way. They somehow feel that every night I undergo selective amnesia and forget where their chow is kept.
This morning I got up, hit the bathroom, and was escorted downstairs by the two older cats. They led me into the parlour and sat in front of the air conditioner expectantly.
THAT's how hot it is.

Day Nine- Shannon and Home

2008-06-10T00:23:00.008-04:00

Up early- no coffee.

We got up really early to pack; we didn't even try having tea or coffee in the room, but no sign of insects, thank God. It was raining steadily; we headed south on the N18 and arrived in Shannon pretty quickly. We gave back the car and got a shuttle to the terminal. We headed upstairs to the restaurant. The boys were happy to get a last full Irish breakfast; I got yogurt and fruit. Once the check-in opened, we got in line, checked the baggage, and headed up to shop. Ironically, we did more shopping in the airport than we did on the entire trip.

Bren decided to buy whiskey at the duty-free, when he voiced this, a little old lady came over and offered him a sample. He had three shots before we boarded. They found poitin- which is legal now, apparently- and bought some for Buck. We were shopping maniacs until they called out flight.

The flight home was uneventful. I know I dozed off for at least an hour. I watched a movie and part of a second. When I woke up, we were over the ocean, the sun was out- and there was ICE beneath us. I had to take some pictures.

When we landed, we were through customs really fast. Bren had a beer while we waited for our ride. A local TV station wanted to interview us about baggage, but we all declined. Kate met us with my car, but declined to ride home with us. All three of us voted not to have me drive, so Bren drove home, then Dan drove him home and went back to Boston. My kitties were very happy to have me home. And I was glad to be back.

That is ICE down there!

Day 8- County Clare; the Burren, Cliffs of Moher, Lehinch, the Loop Head Route

2008-06-09T23:21:00.004-04:00

This was out last day to sightsee; we had to be at the airport by 10 am next day. We were very close to the Burren when we stopped for the night. Within minutes, we were in the otherworldly landscape of limestone deposits that form the desolate and eerie land of the Burren. We stopped at the ancient Neolithic tomb site known as the Poulnabrone Dolmen (a dolmen is a burial site marked by huge stones). It was dry and sunny but very windy out on the hills where the dolmen is situated. I have older photos of Dan posing beside it and inside the entrance, but now it is roped off and you cannot go very close to it (I understand why after seeing the damage at Newgrange). We got some good pictures and walked all about. We stopped down the road at Caher Connell stone fort; there is a nice visitor center there now with a cafe and gift shop. We bought some art at the shop, and made a pit stop but Bren wanted to push on to the cliffs, he felt he had seen enough stone ring forts for the nonce.
On to Cliffs of Moher, on the coastline of County Clare. It is so different from the first time we saw them. There is now a huge parking lot, then you cross the road, and enter the park. If you are just touring the cliffs, there is no fee, but of you want to see the exhibits, there is a charge. The old gravel road that once we hiked up is now a series of limestone steps, graduated to make it easier on the legs, but still quite a climb. The sides of the steps and trails are secured with thick limestone slabs to give added security against wind and erosion. The cliffs are dangerous; the first time we went, a German couple had been blown off the cliff and fell to their death. Everyone is always angling for a better camera angle and ignoring the danger. My own boys proved no exception. Dan was particularly keen to get some good pics because it was windy and rainy, slick and slippery when I took him there in 2003. The Cliffs are gorgeous; a habitat for seabirds and a place of desolate beauty. Dan had his binoculars so we could see the birds flitting in and out of their tiny holes. Dan wished we could have taken a boat tour that goes along the cliffs; it definitely went on the list of "must do next time"! The boys went beyond the park boundary on to private land (as did 99% of the other tourists) to take more pictures at better angles. I was too nervous to try.
After the Cliffs, we had pretty much fulfilled all the goals we had set ourselves, so we just headed down the coast, angling our way toward Shannon. I estimated Ennis would be a realistic place to end the day, so we just meandered on down the coast. We passed through Liscannor, with its awesome golf course and stopped at Lehinch, one of Dan's favourite towns.
Lehinch was always a very touristy town, but now it's even more so. It is a haven for surfers, and since the tide was right, we saw a lot of people heading down to the beach and hitting the waves. We had lunch at a little cafe with a surprisingly diverse menu and very bright and colorful decor. We walked about town and did some shopping; I got a Celtic painting on papyrus at the Bord Failte that was very unusual and a few other gifts. I stopped at the knitwear shop and managed to get the girls sweaters. While I was negotiating sizes, the boys visited an art gallery that they very much enjoyed, but felt I should stay out of. Heading down the coast, Dan suggested we do the Loop Head route that meanders down the coast; from this we could loop back east and head to Ennis. Great idea. Off we headed, through Miltown Malbay, Quilty, Kilmurry, Doonbeg to Kilkee. At Kilkee, we got out and discovered an excellent cliff walk that was extremely photogenic. Apparently, this walk extends for miles; I imagine this must be a very nice place to live. It started to rain and gust, so we headed back to the car and drove out. After a number of miles, it was pretty obvious that this was a very isolated road we were traversing, with few towns ahead of us. That's when I noticed I had only 1/8 tank of gas.
Normally, I am willing to chance things. With so little gas, roads marked in Km when I am used to miles, no cell phone (WHO do you call anyway?) and a deserted country road, my anxiety began to mount. After about 20 minutes, I decided I must head back to the town for gas. Back we went, and entered the town. We drove around and around (it's now about 7:30 pm- things do NOT stay open late in Ireland like they do in the US) and could not find a gas station. We pulled up and asked a local; there was none in Kilkee, he said, the closest is Doonbeg, and the road behind us (that would have taken us back toward Ennis) was closed for repair and a detour was on. I drove like a maniac back to Doonbeg and we quickly found a station and got gas. Now it was too late to jaunt out to Loop Head (another next time), so Dan navigated me back to Miltown Malbay to pick up a road that led straight to Ennis. Reaching Ennis at about 9 pm, we looked for lodging without success; no vacancy signs everywhere. I recalled a hotel out on the N18, so we headed out of the city and I found the hotel quickly. At this point it was raining pretty steadily, I was exhausted from the stress of driving and I felt that out aborted trip to Loop Head was a terrible way to end a vacation. Actually, there are worse ways to end a great vacation.
We checked in, had a lovely dinner and just as we were considering ordering our dessert, a HUGE cockroach ran out from the table next to us. The wait staff appeared unsure how to deal with this situation: we warned them not to step on it (it releases billions of eggs) and Bren put a glass on top of it. Another diner begged us to let it go in the garden; I encouraged the waiter to kill it and he poured boiling water on it. Dan insisted on speaking with the manager; he was polite but emphatic that the staff needed to take measures to eradicate the pests and should close the kitchen in the meantime. The manager felt that just one bug was a problem taken care of. I went to the desk and cancelled our breakfast. I might have left had I not been so exhausted; at least our room was far from the kitchen. You would think they would have cancelled the cost of our dinner, or given a discount on our stay. NOPE. West County Hotel, part of the Best Western chain and run by the Lynch family group. I emailed them hotel and made a complaint; I have yet to receive an apology or acknowledgment of any kind.

Photos Day 8- the Burren, Pulnabrone Dolmen, Cliffs of Moher

2008-06-09T22:03:00.028-04:00

The Burren- a moonscape of limestone

Rock walls surround rock fields.

The rock undulates across the hills...

Poulnabrone Dolmen- a Neolithic burial mound; the capstone weighs over a ton.

A good view of Poulnabrone.

The boys pose at the tomb.

And so do I.

The Cliffs of Moher, County Clare; O'Brien's Tower

O'Brien's Tower

The Cliffs of Moher

The boys stop by the tower.

Observation area.

View of the tower from the trail.

This does not look safe, but it was a heck of a photo.

Guess who went beyond the point? Everybody but me.
People routinely get blown off these cliffs, & it was windy!

The cliffs from beyond the trail.

I am safe behind the walls.

Photos Day 8- County Clare- Lehinch, Loop Head

2008-06-09T21:44:00.010-04:00

Surfers at Lehinch

Lehinch Beach

Loop Head Route

On the Cliffs

Loop Head Route

Day Seven- Inis Mor, Dun Aonghasa

2008-06-05T20:14:00.004-04:00

We went down to the town of Kilronan and checked our bags in at the Bord Failte, and rented bicycles to ride out to Dun Aonghasa, the stone fort far out on the cliff tops. Bicycle is the best way to see the island; the boys were game. Bren was querying the locals about the wormhole, an ocean phenomenon he read about in one of the guidebooks. I warned them that I could not keep up with them because of my asthma. I figured I'd make my way slowly out to the fort, maybe meet them there, then head back slowly to the village and shop at the Aran Sweater Mill, picking up some excellent knit goods.
They took off and I made my way out to the fort. I parked my bike at the visitor center and paid to go in. There's an excellent exhibit about the fort; I skipped it thinking the boys had been there long before me (plus I had been before) and hiked up the long and steep path to the narrow stone entryway, the only way in. The fort is situated far out on a cliff top, giving excellent protection from raiders and marauder. Because it's so high on the cliff, sentries would be able to observe attackers from afar, and sound an alarm, giving the inhabitants time to scurry back into the fort from their daily activities of farming, fishing, etc. The views are stunning. Not a few crazy tourists climb out onto the cliff to take a photo at yet another angle (see the photos and decide if my sons are among them). I passed beyond the barrier and hiked out some way along the cliff top where the vegetation was different; more flowers among the stones. Then I went back into the fort. The boys met me there, and relayed that Bren's bike chain had come undone, so they fixed it and went to the beach to clean the grease off, and saw me ride by on my way up the hill. We got some photos of each other on the cliffs; I got one of the boys leaving the sole entry way.
We spent a little while in the shops at the fort; I was able to get Kate a replacement knit cap from the very lady from whom she bought her beloved blue set in '01. I bought myself some silver earrings as well. We glided downhill to the tiny village of Kilmurray and did some additional shopping; I got Richie a sweater, and settled on one for myself. I wanted to stay longer but the boys were determined to find the wormhole and equally determined to drag me along. The B&B landlady had given us general directions, augmented by the bike rental guy; the knit shop lady advised me to check the tide from the visitors' center guys, which Brendan did. Basically, we had to head back towards Kilronan but take a right at the crossroads. So we did, and shortly after, the pavement turned to path. It was easier and safer to ride on the grass in the center of the path (see photo above- don't I look like I am having great fun?). The path eventually turned to track; unmanageable by bike. Bren locked the 3 bikes together and we set out on foot. The track eventually led to field upon field, walled with grey stone in neat rows. We headed in the direction we knew the wormhole was located in. After a bit, it was wilder going on the cliff top; it was safer and easier to walk on the long weathered blocks of limestone; stepping off meant sinking anywhere from ankle to knee deep in soft vegetation and peat. We walked quite a long way until we came to the ocean; we followed along the top of the cliff until eventually we did find it. The tide was very low, so we could see the square deep hole in the cliff. It looked like it was cut but according to the Aran Islands website, it's a natural phenomenon. When the tide rises, the waves rush down the deep hole and into the deep cave in the cliffside; it looks like a wormhole in space. We saw it as a pool of deep, dark water, but I could imagine how very dangerous it might be to approach it more closely. Of course, the boys angled in as close as they could. They were so excited, it made their whole day to find it. Once we got our photos, we realized how late it was and headed straight back to the bikes. It took a while to get that far, and then get back to the road. I was utterly spent, and we still had miles to bike to catch our ferry at 5pm. I was so tired, I lost my breath pretty quickly and despite albuterol, I was unable to manage even the slightest incline. So I walked the bike and coasted downhill when I could. Bren stayed with me because I think I scared the crap out of him- he's never seen me so out of breath. We made it back to the bike rental place with nine minutes to spare for the ferry. We ransomed our luggage and made it to the ferry exactly in time. A large group of French schoolchildren joined us on the ferry, so it was noisy and rowdy on the ride back. I felt better after a bottle of water and a chocolate bar.
We got back to Rossaveal and ransomed our car. Dan directed us toward Galway, but we skirted though the city without stopping so we could get close to the Burren, our next destination. Dan thought to take us to Ballyvaughan, but I was pretty spent, and when we drove through Kinvarra and saw a hotel, I pulled in. I had pushed myself about as far as I could for one day. The Merriman Hotel was full of local artwork, very colorful and attractive. Kinvarra was a pretty coastal town, so after checking in and washing up, we roved through looking for a place for dinner. We ended up walking all the way down to the harbor, where we took some nice pictures; my favourite was a group of three curraghs anchored together (a curragh is a boat made of cowhide; lightweight and buoyant, it's used all over the west of Ireland.).
I was so glad we had made the effort to go out to Inis Mor- it was a huge success with the boys and it made me very happy to see how excited they were about it all. It was a great adventure.

Check out the photos from the Aran website to see the wormhole in full glory.

http://www.aranislands.ie/ireland_lanscape.html

I also like these paintings done by a Canadian artist:
http://www.ccca.ca/artists search for Gertrude Kearns

Photos Day Seven- Inis Mor, Dun Aonghasa

2008-06-05T20:13:00.036-04:00

Kilmurray village.

Thatched roof cottage- what could say Aran Island better?

The beach near Kilmurray.

Dun Aonghasa stone fort in the distance.

The hike up to the stone fort.

Stone walls.

The cliffs inside the fort.

Yes, it is very high up.

In the fort.

The gate to the fort- only one way in.

Searching the cliffs for the wormhole; Dun Aonghasa in the distance.

Flowers in the rockscape.

This is where we hiked, and hiked...

Yes, we hiked very far. And that was after we biked.

This could be it.

Yes, this is it!

That's the wormhole down there; unfortunately the tide is wrong, but that is it.

It would be more impressive with water pouring down ferociously.
Use your imagination. We did.

Heading toward the Burren.

Kinvarra Harbour- curraghs.

Kinvarra Harbour.

Day Six- Clifden, Connemara, Kylemore Abbey, Rossaveal, Kilronan, Inis Mor

2008-06-05T18:45:00.008-04:00

After our usual Irish breakfast, I used the phone in the B&B to call the ferry in Rossaveal. Unlike the ferry we had used in 2001, this one takes only 25 minutes and had a number of trips to Inish Mor throughout the day. We decided to book passage on the 6:30 pm ferry, which gave us the whole day to explore Connemara, much to Dan's delight. We went into Clifden and did a little shopping (not every shop was open on Sunday, but many were). I picked up some art (watercolor prints) and the boys scored an American newspaper to check the Celtics scores.
We headed out to Connemara National Park. The visitor center had a great exhibit about bogs and their importance. We decided on a 1.5 kilometer hike; we'd have loved to climb the mountain but it was 4 km more and we still wanted to see the abbey. The trail led through some spectacular views of the mountains and lakes around the area. It was bright at first, but clouds blew in from the southwest. It sprinkled a few times before we finished our walk, but it felt nice.
The area is so desolate and beautiful it made my heart sing. We were fascinated by the bog flora, and we all took lots of photos (as usual). If we had not set our agenda, we definitely would have spent a whole day in the area. On our return, they had a man demonstrating the making of wicker withy baskets in the centre- his hands moved so quickly and deftly. They also had a trio playing trad in the courtyard, and some people dancing.
We headed down the road a short distance to Kylemore Abbey. Built as a Victorian era castle by an affluent family, it gave employment to many in an era of few jobs in an environment where living was not easy. The house is a sumptuous castle facing Loch Fee and the mountains in front and sheltered by a tall mountain behind, a stunning location. It afforded fishing, hiking, hunting and genteel partying for the affluent friends of the affluent owners. They had 19 greenhouses providing flowers and rare plants for decoration, a huge kitchen garden to feed the family and the many servants it took to run such a posh house, and a gorgeous Victorian garden to stroll and picnic in. It was sold to British titled folk in the mid-1900s, but they went bankrupt and it languished on the market for years. It was subsequently bought by Benedictine nuns who were displaced by World War One, and they acquired it and opened an international girls' school. They also opened a pottery works and visitors' center, and that income coupled with donations has enabled them to begin restoring the mansion to its former glory.
It began to rain just as we reached the Abbey, so we were glad to go in and see the public parts of the mansion. They have memorabilia of the order, and portraits of the abbesses of the past on display. The foyer is beautifully pannelled, and the windows are leaded glass. The fireplaces were ornately carved and much of the original furniture is there- way too flouncy and Victorian for my taste. I'd love to see the school part, but that's not possible.
They bus you a mile up the road through a spectacular forest to the gardens. There is a shrine up on the mountainside, and we could see sheep grazing way up on the peak. We wandered through the ornate and orderly garden. They will be setting out the annuals soon, so I imagine it will be unbelievably beautiful once everything is in summer bloom. Some of the plants were so unusual. Dan took pictures of everything, I think he documented every plant to show Sue; he kept saying Sue should be with us because she would have loved the garden so. When she saw all his pictures this weekend, she immediately told Ted she wants to go there...
It started to rain a bit harder, so we headed back to the bus and the car. Dan brought us back through a rural road that went through the mountains along Lake Inagh to Recess, to pick up the N59 to Maam Cross, where we picked up a rural mountain road that took us straight down the peninsula to Rossaveal. We were making good time, but when we came to a crucial turning, there was a big tour bus in the way that blocked the sign. We drove along the coast for a few miles and there were Traveller camps all along the shore. We got to one coastal town that had a lot of cottages and rentals and we realized we had gone too far. We made a U-Turn and beelined back and sure enough, there was the sign we had been looking for. We found the ferry office, parked, got our tickets, headed down to the pier and boarded. The ferry was sleek and new, with cushy seats like a plane. After a bit, Bren and I went up to the deck and took some photos. The rain had blown off and the sun was out, though it was still misty on the Connemara coast we left behind.

We got to Inis Mor and docked at Kilronan pier about 7 pm. It was a hike up the hill to our B&B. We checked in and then headed all the way back down to town. I forgot about the chickens. One of the buildings we pass was a country music bar; there were always chickens and roosters clucking and cock-a-doodle-dooing as you pass by.

We ended up walking out halfway to the next village to have dinner. The restaurant was geared to tourists, flying the US and Canadian flags, but many locals were enjoying their dinners. We overlooked the strand while we ate our dinners. Afterward, three musicians came with fiddle, guitar and accordian and did a number of songs. We stayed quite a while and enjoyed the music. We walked back in the starlight up the long hill with the sound of the wind in our ears.

Photos Day Six- Connemara National Park

2008-06-05T18:12:00.024-04:00

Beautiful Connemara

Sheep on the Mountainside.

Storm blowing in over the bog.

This is bog.

Bog tree.

The wild mountainside.

Hiking.

Windblown.

Just resting.

Just goofing.

Photos Day Six- Kylemore Abbey, Rossaveal Ferry, Kilronan, Inish Mor (Aran Islands)

2008-06-05T18:09:00.020-04:00

Kylemore Abbey overlooking Loch Fee

The Entry

The Entry faces the mountains; a dramatic front door for the boys to pose before.

I did say dramatic front door...

I love the details...

Oh yes, and there's a big huge mountain behind it, too!

The formal Victorian gardens are being slowly restored.

The kitchen gardens grow everything the nuns need, including fruit trees.
The grounds were meant to be completely self-sustaining.

On the ferry, from Rossaveal, looking toward Inis Mor.

That's the ferry on the far right.
This is the pier at Kilronan.

Walking up from town to our B&B, An Crugan.

Monument to the sailors and fishermen.

The marketplace by the pier; note the High Cross in the background.

Day Five- Inishowen, Grianan of Aileach, Donegal, Sligo, Connemara, and Clifden

2008-06-05T15:47:00.007-04:00

Dan is an excellent navigator because he knows me so well. He took over the task, which I freely admit is frustrating, and he did so very unselfishly. There were a lot of places he would have found interesting but he declined to push us to visit in the interest of covering more ground. Plus, he knows there is always a next time!:)
We decided to do a part of the Inishowen peninsula because I had always heard it was really beautiful, but we didn't want to do the whole thing and use up too much of the day. We needed to get far enough southwest to attempt an overnight on the Aran Islands, our next big goal. So, we took a coastal road that wound down along the loch, but we ended up on a dead-end by a garbage dump! We called it a wash and headed back, then Dan led us onto a road that would way down through some beautiful mountain scenery toward Slieve Snacht. Back onto a main road, just past Buncrana, we came very suddenly on a sign for the Grianan of Aileach, and I promptly turned in (been there with Kate...). The Grianan (grian means sun, so it's a building filled with sun, or open) is a stone ring-fort type building, high on a hill in Donegal that overlooks Loch Swilly, the Fanad, Inishowen and Derry. Aileach was a king of the area, and the exact age of this cashel fort is unknown, but it was recorded to exist in the time of Ptolemy. Legend attributes its building to the Dagda, a supernatural. The clan O'Neill held this territory for many years. We walked around and took photos; Bren tried to crawl into the wall but didn't get far. A pity it wasn't a sunny day, but despite the overcast slies, we still could see far away from the top of the structure.
After leaving the Grianan, we headed on the main road down to Donegal, skirted the city and drove down the coast into Sligo. Just as we were thinking of stretching the legs, I saw a round tower in a rotary and knew immediately where I was; Drumcliffe, under the mountain called Ben Bulben, the burial place of poet WB Yeats. I pulled right in, to the astonishment of the boys, but they quickly were charmed by the place. Since I have been there last, a sculpture monument to Yeats has been erected, parking improved, and a gift shop placed strategically near the ruins of the ancient monastery founded by St Columcille that was once located there. The tower is the last bit of the monastery, and since the road cut right through the grounds, they made the tower into a roundabout! The monastic cemetery is still there with an excellent High Cross. St Columba's Church, with its magnificent doors emblazoned by huge brass swans, was built in 1809; Yeat's grandfather was rector there, and Yeats spent much of his childhood there.
From Sligo, we headed down the coast into the part of Galway county known as Connemara. I had never been, and immediately fell in love with the wild and lonely landscape. Connemara is famous for its twelve "Bens', the mountains that tower always in the background. BenBulben is the supposed site of the death of Diarmuid, lover of the fair Grainne of ancient legend. We wanted to head south to Letterfrack and maybe spend the night there; I had read it was a quaint and lovely town. Maybe it was, but it was host to a carnival at the time, and the town was mobbed; the outskirts of town was dotted with camps of Travellers. So on we drove. I was getting cranky and in need of stopping, but we wound through one desolate and wild stretch after another. I announced that next hotel we saw, I would stop, but the next hotel had a Four Star rating on its sign (Ka-CHING!) and to much amusement from the boys, I went cursing by. We backtracked a bit and changed direction. We were trying to get close to Rossaveagh, where there is a daily ferry to the Aran Islands. We came around the side of a beautiful lake and saw a magnificent grey building that made Dan want to stop and explore; turns out it's an abbey. Then we passed the entrance to Connemara National Park, and we all wanted to go there. We finally reached Clifden, a fairly large town. We drove through once and very quickly saw a large B&B; they had a large room for us and were two blocks from town. We unloaded our gear thankfully, since it was 9 pm; we washed up and we headed to town for dinner. Brendan gallantly assisted a "fair local maiden" with a light for her butt; she was so intoxicated he had to light it for her.
We chose to eat at a large pub with an upstairs dining room that was full of locals (always a good thing). Dan had a bowl of fish chowder before his meal, and his stew was so chock full of mussels and all manner of fish, he could barely eat his dinner. We had such a grand feed, we closed the joint. Bren had seen some signs for traditional music at night (he scoffs when I say "trad"), so we headed down to a local pub. He treated for drinks and we stayed easily an hour or so listening to the music and enjoying our surroundings. I still felt that it was a bit more touristy based music, but I enjoyed it all the same, and the boys seemed to have fun because there was no whining. They don't seem to enjoy it when I play it at home...:)
It was easily midnight or after when we got back; the B&B was large enough that I didn't feel we were creeping back into someone's home and waking them. We showered and downloaded all our pictures- I was so glad I took my computer, tho it was a bit of a pain at times. We all were enamored of Connemara; I could easily use Clifden as a base for further exploration.

"Come away, O human child!
To the waters and the wild
With a faery, hand in hand,
For the world's more full of weeping than you can understand." WB Yeats

or maybe not...

Photos Day Five- Inishowen, Grianan of Aileach, Donegal, Sligo, Connemara, and Clifden

2008-06-05T15:34:00.023-04:00

The Grianan of Aileach, high on a hill

Path to the Grianan

View from the Grianan

The Grianan has four levels- reminds one of an amphitheatre.

Bren and I look over Loch Swilly.

Sligo- Yeats' grandfather was rector in St Columba's Church.

Monument to Yeats enscribed with "Cloths of Heaven" poem.

Yeats' grave- "Horseman, pass by..."

"Under Ben Bulben..."- sheep graze in a field beside the ancient churchyard.

Celtic Cross- remainder of the monastery that once stood here.

The Round Tower is a remnant of St Columcille's monastery; a road was built straight through the ruins, and consequently the tower stands on a rotary!

This lovely garden is nearby St Columba's church.

Clifden town was delightful!

Day Four- Slane, Co Meath to Northern Ireland

2008-06-05T14:40:00.006-04:00

We started the day in Slane where we had spent the night. We visited Slane Hill, where Kate and I had been in 2001 but the boys had never seen. On this hill, St Patrick lit a paschal fire that caught the attention of the current High King at Emain Macha, Tara; the paschal eve coincided with Beltane, a druid holy day. On Beltane, all fires in hearth and home were extinguished, and the High King himself lit the new fire of spring and regeneration. The people danced about the fire, jumped through it and carried out ancient rituals of fertility to honor the return of the sun and bless the new crops. The Slane fire heralded the fall of the old religion and the entry of the Christian faith into Ireland.
On Slane Hill is the ruin of an ancient monastery, school and church; it was funded by the Conynghams, a Norman family who held the area. I met a couple in their sixties as we entered; they passed some time with me. They were on their way to spruce up the graves of their loved ones since a memorial service was to take place on the weekend following. Other family members were doing the same. (The boys were fascinated that in these ancient cemetaries are new graves; they are still using the grounds today. I explained the concept of consecrated ground and its importance in our religion. I grew up tending our family graves on Sundays, but have not carried this tradition on. Our cemetary is situated in a ghetto and it's just not safe to go there anymore.) The couple told me about the towers in the monastary being closed off because a gang from Dublin (just 45 minutes away) was stashing cocaine and heroine in the ruins and dealing drugs there until the local Gardai closed down the operation. The boys enjoyed that story; it reminded Dan of "the General" Martin Cahill, a favourite tale. We got some incredible pictures at Slane; the architectural details fascinated us all. Dan found a dead rabbit that made him think of sacrifices- yes, we have pictures, but they aren't going on my blog.
Thus sated photographically, we hopped in the car, gassed up and got snacks, and headed north. We decided to head for Antrim to see the Giant's Causeway and then head west to the Aran Islands. We drove all afternoon and finally reached the causeway in the late afternoon. We had thought to stay in or around Bushmills, but it turned out there was a huge motorcycle race going on. There were hundreds of motorcycles on the road, and it was obvious that we'd never find a place to stay. We decided we'd just do the scenery and move on. The traffic was so bad, we had time for one sight, so we ruled out Carrick-a-Rede in favour of the Causeway. The boys loved the coastal road. We drove by a really neat castle, but it was already after 4 pm, so we didn't stop until we got to the Causeway.
The visitor center had maps, and we grabbed some waters in a shop. Then off we hiked. The Causeway is named for the legendary Finn MacCuhaill (Mack-kool'), a man of large proportions who supposedly built a road to Scotland to fight another giant. The coastal cliffs head down into the sea with these incredible columnar stone formations that are hexagonal to octagonal in shape. Many columns support the cliffs, but the eroded ones undulate like cobbles forming an uneven road, or causeway. These basalt formations are apparently the result of an ancient volcanic eruption, but the ONLY place on earth this wonder exists is there in Antrtim and on the other side of the sea in Scotland (hence the legend). The area has been designated a UNESCO World Heritage Site. One can take a bus down to the end of the paved road in the park, but of course my boys would have none of that. We hiked the entire way. There is quite a bit of trail after the paving ends, and not only can you hike but you can climb the rocks that jetty far out into the sea. And of course the boys did...
We spent several hours happily hiking about and observing. Dan had his binoculars, so we were able to check out formations in the distance and watch the seabirds. It was a very happy afternoon and evening.
When we were done, we drove toward Derry, figuring we'd have enough time to get at least that far away from the motocross-engorged towns. We passed through Derry and crossed Loch Foyle over the marvelous bridge. Heading on a little way longer, I was tiring from all the driving and hiking. Since I have no night vision, I stop before twilight (which fortunately isn't until nine-ish, since Ireland is nearer the north that Boston is). I saw a small hotel on the main road that had a restaurant and was situated near another restaurant; they had a B&B rate that was acceptable, so we checked in. I got my own room; the boys had their own, for a change. As we were bringing in the luggage, I realized that the restaurant next door was Harry's- Kate and I had eaten a marvelous meal there at a recommendation from our B&B landlady in 2001. I took the boys over for a gastronomical treat. Dan got venison, Bren got duck, I had a melt-in-your mouth steak. The food was fabulous; I highly recommend it (it's in Bridgend on the main road and has won several food awards). Bren tried an after-dinner digestive of Glenfiddich and was enjoyed it immensely.
We covered quite a few miles and sights that day. It was so worth the effort, every bit.

Quite a kick in the pants...

Photos Day Four- Slane

2008-06-02T23:47:00.005-04:00

The Monastery Ruins

Hill of Slane
In the Ruins

The Monkey Tree

Celtic Cross

Belltower and Cemetary

Photos Day Four- Giant's Causeway, Antrim

2008-06-02T23:22:00.012-04:00

The Chimneys Formation

Cliffside

The Organ Pipes

The Giant's Boot

Close-up of the Stones

On the Ledges

Tidal Pools

From the Shoreline

The Cliff Trails

Day Three- Navan, Newgrange, Tara

2008-06-01T21:28:00.005-04:00

Turns out that at out big-ass Irish breakfast, when I revealed my relationship to Navan, the landlady knew my cousin. She gave us directions to the little shop out on the country road I had visited in 1974. We drove out and I re-introduced myself to Oliver and his wife Joan, who graciously spent a little time with us despite running a busy shop (he also has a gas station, auto repair and funeral business). Bren had wanted to mingle with some locals- what better than cousins? It was funny catching up after 34 years with a cousin I had met for all of 5 minutes, but look at those big Irish round faces and you know exactly where we both came from.
We headed to Newgrange after, and didn't get to spend a lot of time at the visitor center before we took our bus out to Knowth. We had an excellent docent- American of all things, but we have such a limited time there. We had exactly 10 minutes to explore after the tour, which includes a trip into one of the mounds. Knowth was a settlement of farming and fishing folk who lived next to the river Boyne in the neolithic era, and the area was populated well through the Middle Ages. The carvings on the mounds are beautiful and unique. The boys climbed to the top for photos while I concentrated on the carvings; none of us made it down the souterrain (I was down in the souterrain communing with my ancestors on 9-11 when the towers were falling.) We headed out to Newgrange on the bus and saw it high upon the hill before us. It is always a huge thrill for me to think that this ancient site built before the pyramids was built by my ancient ancestors. It calls to me whenever I am in Ireland and is always a new experience each time I go. We spent the first part of the visit taking photos then took the docent tour inside, where they showed us how the light shaft illuminates the chamber on the December solstice. The carvings inside are spectacular but no photos are permitted. The chamber was on private property and was visited by a succession of thrill-seekers over the course of 200 years who felt obligated to carve their names, initials and dates over the ancient carvings in the stone. Some people may get a kick out of graffiti from the late 1700s but frankly, it still makes me want to slap the idiot upside the head for desecrating a sacred place.
Bren had a snack and I had tea; Dan preferred to wait and snack at Tara (great little cafe bakery). Of course, on leaving, Bren directed me and we got horrifically lost in the country, but we came out rather near to where we wanted to be. The cafe closed just before we got there, but we did make the gift shop. Dan ate some snacks in the car (fortunately, they had started stashing munchies, because I DO not stop for lunch). Tara is such a letdown after the gorgeous visitor's center at Newgrange; just a few small signs up on the mounds. There is an exhibit in St Patrick's church, but it was closed. The Lia Fail, the Mound of the Hostages and the mound of the High King are all marked, but it's pretty much just left to the imagination what the beauty and splendour of Emain Macha, the seat of the High King, must have looked like when Patrick showed up. I entertained the boys with stories from my Nana about Patrick lighting the Paschal Fire on the Hill of Slane and how it could be seen from Tara, how he baptized the King, and the structure of the ruling class. I guess I was the Tara docent, for good or worse.
After Tara, we headed up to Slane to stay the night, having decided to head north to the Giant's Causeway. I had wanted to stay at the inn the Conyngham Arms, but they had a wedding and were totally booked up. We ended up across the street in the old Post Office, which was converted to a B&B and restaurant. The room was rather cute- very modern furniture. The restaurant was very good, but we just about killed ourselves in the shower which was either freezing or scalding, no in-between. Still and all, it was a nice day.

Ireland Photos,Day Three-Slane, Newgrange, Tara

2008-05-30T23:29:00.017-04:00

My Cousin's Shop, Newtown

Knowth

Newgrange Entrance

Newgrange from the Hill

At the Entry Stone- the Light Shaft is visible above our heads.
On the December Solstice, the whole inner chamber is lit.

Tara- memorial to all who fought for Irish independence.

Tara-Mound of the Hostages

Tara-Saint Patrick

Day Two-Bray, Wicklow, Navan

2008-05-30T23:26:00.001-04:00

Day Two, in Bray. We got up for a huge Irish breakfast, buffet style. After checkout, the boys decided we must hike up Bray Head. The first bit is paved but it quickly gives way to rough trail, parts gravelled, parts not. The trail goes on quite some way into County Wicklow; Ireland is chock-full of hiking trails. It was steep and demanded several inhaler puffs, but it set the pace of our vacation- lots and lots of hiking.
The top of the hill afforded a great view of the bay, of the Wicklow mountains in the west and of Dublin shining in the north. Bren hiked a bit further over on an adjoining peak, but Dan and I rested at the concrete cross set atop the hill. We hiked down and they had a coffee break on the beach before we hopped back into the car for Wicklow. We headed to Glendaloch, site of an ancient monastery founded by St. Kevin. The architectural details of the old church and the Celtic crosses on the burial grounds made for some great photos, with all the spring flowers in bloom. We walked around the cemetary and the monastery grounds for quite a while, and then we headed up the trail to the lake. The trail goes on for several miles, but we just hiked a short section. We hopped back in the car and drove thru the Wicklow Gap, now also known as The Braveheart Trail, because the movie was filmed in this area. It's funny how driving through the gap, you can recognize the scenery and picture Mel Gibson running on the peaks. I would have liked to visit Avoca weavers and Ballykissangel but you can't do it all.
We drove back up thru Dublin and headed out to Navan, the capitol of county Meath ("Royal Meath" as Nana would say) and home of my family. The B&B I had stayed at had just let it last room, but the landlady found us another B&B within walking distance of town. (I have no night vision & cannot drive well at night, so we either stay at a hotel with a restaurant OR a B&B in walking distance of dinner.) On the way down the hill, it was Bren's turn for a meltdown- he insisted we eat in the pub near the B&B, so we settled for bar food. Then we hiked downtown only to discover that the restaurant Kate and I had loved on a previous visit was not only still open, but had won numerous awards- so much for bar food! (The Loft- if you visit Navan, eat there!) We hit up the ATM and got out euros. We found the house Nana was born in in Corn Market and took the obligatory photos of ourselves there. The tanning salon is gone, and it is now a safety planning office. The blacksmith shop where Uncle Gus plied his trade shoeing horses and making ornate iron grave crosses (see his work in Athlumney and St Mary cemetaries) is gone. Last time we were there, it had been made into a dance club specializing in Beatles music. It was town down and rebuilt with apartments above and shops below. the cobblestone street is still there and the little tunnel leading into the marketplace is the same. Someone had spraypainted IRA in green on the wall, so the boys posed happily for that as well! The old post office is not a McDonald's- quite an interesting location. More public art has been placed in the area, including an interesting Neptune sculpture, and more apartment buildings and upscale housing developments built. A hiking and bike trail is now there right on the Boyne, and a little riverfront park. It's a town that's definitely conducive to walking, with lots of shops. The walk back to the B&B was pleasant.
We had a comfortable room, and Bren had never had a B&B experience before. Dan could not get his circadian clock regulated and was awake from 4 am with back pains- we nearly stepped on him since he lay flat on the floor to get comfortable. Someone called Bren on his cell phone in the middle of the night. It's not easy to get adjusted to multiple time zone changes, but it must be easier to do so on vacation than on business.

Ireland Photos- Day Two

2008-05-30T22:46:00.013-04:00

Bray Beach from Bray Head

Bren Climbs on the Hill

Glendaloch- Stones

Glendaloch-Church

Glendaloch-Lake

Saint Kevin's

Boyne Riverside-Navan

The Curtis House- Navan

The Old Post Office-Navan

Navan-Public Art

Ireland Day One

2008-05-30T17:41:00.014-04:00

Trinity College
ART

The Guinness Storehouse-St. James Gate

Starting the Brew

SkyBar

Bray Beach

How I Spent My Well-Deserved Vacation- Ireland Day One

2008-05-30T17:18:00.008-04:00

We started from Logan and got to Dublin airport in the early morning and got our rental car. We drove down thru some of Dublin's toughest areas and the boys begged me to stop and taker a picture of them in front of a huge, dilapidated apartment project (NO). We decided to park in a garage for the day and hoof it in the town- wise choice. We found a diner next to the Liffey that offered breakfast, so Bren got his first taste of Full Irish breakfast- eggs, sausage, white and black puddings, bacon and tons of toast and tea.
We did the National Museum and saw the Bog Man display and the ancient Celtic antiquities. The gold and the intricate designs are mind-boggling stuff. Considering how little comfort these neolithic peoples had in their lives, they still manage to devote themselves to art and craftsmanship that are not quite equalled today. We walked over to the Guinness storehouse for the tour. Bren got picked to push the red button and start a new batch of brew.
He got to taste a fresh brew that wasn't fully fermented yet, and loved it, though he had never liked Guinness before. We headed up to the SkyBar and met Chiquita Banana on the way- apparently some group had rented a room for a costume party. The SkyBar was busy on a sunny Dublin day, and Bren got busy enjoying his and Dan's complimentary Guinness. Unfortunately, the effects of being up 40 hours straight hit Dan, so we headed out. I decided to head for Bray, to a hotel I had been to once before & could find easily. We crawled thru the rush-hour traffic, down thru DunLaoghaire and finally reached Bray. After a good meal in their restaurant, he perked up a bit, so we took a nice walk on the beach up to Bray Head and back. Poor Dan was out the second he hit the pillow, but Bren wandered about for a smoke and I managed to blow the fuse with my plugs. Easily fixed, and we downloaded pics on the laptop before bed.

Where My Heart Is

2008-05-07T23:00:00.004-04:00

Judging from the dearth of posts this past winter, it's easy to see that it's been a tough year on my family. Illness, deaths, overwork and stress were the theme. A woman I worked with the other day said "it doesn't seem like it's May!" "That's because your heat is still on," I growled.
My lawn is half-dead from the street salt the plows pushed up. My beautiful purple-and-white themed tulip display yielded 3 purple tulips- all those (expensive) beauties lost to scavenging (starving) rodents (squirrels AND skunks). Yet spring is finally here- the forsythia and quince in riot, the lilac ready to bloom this weekend, the upper lawn a riot of violets. The Lily-of-the Valley is finally poking shyly up by the bricks. It's finally warm enough to open a few windows.
Work is quieting down- everyone who was on leave is back, so I am needed less. The scheduler suggested I take a vacation, and I thought about a nice long weekend with Ros in Montreal. THEN-I dreamed about Ireland.
Dreaming about Ireland is a dangerous thing. It puts a longing in the heart that throbs like a toothache. So I called Pharmacy Son, who was so entrenched in exams he couldn't think about it. On the weekend, he called, and he was ready to talk trip. Kate can't go, and neither can #1 son. But I thought we should invite the Middle Child, and Dan convinced him to rush thru the passport process. Bren has never been, has always wanted to go, and is so excited. I wish we were all going, but 3 out of 5 isn't bad. I so badly need some rest and relaxation; eight days in a compact car on a narrow road with two hulking giants arguing over maps and music may not be THE most restful idea. But Ireland is where I recharge the batteries of my soul, and I am so grateful that all the ducks lined up for me right now. I am already on Ireland mode; easily distracted and constantly humming. I swear the kitties know something is up, they follow me everywhere. I've started putting together lists and items I want to bring.
May is the perfect time to visit Ireland; it's warm, the baby lambs are frolicking everywhere, it's not high season yet so the traffic and touristy spots are bearable. We have yet to pencil out an itinerary; Bren wants to see Navan, and Newgrange of course, and Dan wants to take him to the Guinness storehouse. That's a day and a half itinerary, the rest is up for grabs. We are vacationers who don't need much more than a map and an imagination. We always find a place to stay, and we always have adventures.
So- here's to a well-deserved vacation! More to follow, of course...:)

Thank God It's Spring!!!

2008-04-24T19:50:00.003-04:00

This seems like it has been the longest winter. Last winter wasn't so very hot, what with Aged Mother crashing with influenza just before Christmas and then picking up Norwalk virus on her first outing out in January.
This season kicked off with an aunt coming down with pneumonia just before Christmas, and succumbing to it rapidly. Great sadness just before the holiday. Day after Christmas Beloved Sister is hospitalized until New Year's Eve with complications from a condition that later turns out to be medication-induced liver toxicity. My mom has eyelid surgery, my sis and niece took her to that one. Less than a week later, I get a call from my niece that my dad has fallen. Yes, he did break his hip and yes, he did need surgery. The night of his surgery, his sister was admitted, so I headed up to the ICU to discover it was very, very serious. I was very grateful that I had dialed her number so he could say goodnight to her- it was the last time he spoke with her. Auntie died exactly four weeks to the day that my first aunt died. Extremely sad and traumatic for all her family.
During the surgery crisis, we had got sister to a specialist who confirmed my suspicion that her problem was caused by a medication she was on for many years. Reversing the damage will take months. In the meantime, she gets sicker, and is admitted with serious complications of her liver problem- pulmonary thrombi, and lots of them. Aged mother visits dad and passes out in the bathroom, prompting a hospital admission for a cardiac workup. And my cousin is admitted with pneumonia to the same ICU bed Auntie had been in previously. Three in one hospital and one in the next city over. It was stress in the nth degree, yet also comically coincidental. Example; when my cousin (who is mentally handicapped) was transferred from ICU to the rehab unit, my middle sister was there, and helped her settle in and answered staff questions until her family/caregivers got there.
And then my sister became really, really ill, and I dragged her to a major teaching hospital where she was admitted and tortured for two weeks while I prayed the specialist of our dreams would be called in on her case. That still may happen- she did get a call from him, but her experience there left much to be desired.
And just about then, we had a major crisis at work- two people out on extended leaves put me at the wheel temporarily. I'd like to think I rose to the challenge but I am so exhausted i can't really tell.

The good and positive things that came out of all of this: my extended family proves once more that both grief and laughter are best shared in solidarity. My cousins are brave, compassionate, strong, generous and damn nice to be around. When Cousin ended up in the same rehab floor as Dad, there was much visiting up and down the hall, and there was always company for the invalids. Dad got to find out how funny my cousins' kids are, and my kids brought ice creams up the hall for my cousin.
I found out exactly how good the next generation is at handling crises and chronic demands. When Mom collapsed, I was at work; I dialed cells, and got fast responses. My kids and my niece flew in and kept the information flowing, one stayed with my dad and kept him calm. My daughter stayed over multiple nights when my mom and dad got discharged. My niece volunteered to be the one to discharge Dad so I could rest, and her husband visited with him so the rest of the family could go to wakes. My daughter minded the little ones so that my nephew could visit, and they made artworks that had pride of place on his bulletin board. My son's girlfriend brought hot tea to my dad on her way to school (part of the hospital is her grad school program) when he complained that his tea was lukewarm every day. My niece took him to follow-ups. My nephew brought the kids up to see him (the baby thinks the walker is like a cage and enjoys sitting beneath it..)
We got the parents moved to the first floor, eliminating multiple daily trips up the stairs. We'd like this to become permanent, but we'll see.
My sister is stable for now. The specialist may see her sometime soon. This is good, in a tentative way.
My schedule was tough but I think 90% of the time I was truly needed, I was off or could trade shifts. This is a huge blessing.
The last good thing was that my son proposed to his girlfriend. We adore her. We are ecstatic.
So there were some blessings mixed in with all the craziness.

And now, we are in spring.
So far, my beloved sister-in-law (my favourite ex) fell and broke her hip while skiing- she is fortunately recovering nicely and I will visit in a few weeks.
My godmother passed away, rather quickly and not expectedly, but had a peaceful passing. We buried her today.
A dear friend lost her mom yesterday. A peaceful passing, surrounded by family and faith, after a long and hard illness. We'll attend her memorial this weekend.

I have decided that some respite is in order.
A trip is in the works, and I will post on that later.
Cherished readers, do you agree that I am ready to welcome spring in my heart? The wicked winter has not let go of my loved ones yet, but there is hope. After all, the nine-foot pile of snow Plow Guy lovingly shoved into a corner of my driveway has been replaced by a puddle on the dirt, and my first daffodils bravely poked their heads above last fall's leaf mulch blanket.
I was inspired to pick up the trash in my yard and pull up some of the tall dead stalks remaining from my Russian sage and catmint and mallow on a lovely warm April day.

And that is how I threw out my back...

Blizzard of 78

2008-02-06T22:36:00.000-05:00

Thirty years ago today, I got up at 6:30 am, bundled up and headed out in the snow to Children's Hospital, where I was Coordinator of the Pre-Op Unit. I was in a great mood, since my beloved sister had given birth to her first child the previous day, and I was hoping to go visit them after work. I took the Copley bus and walked to Children's as usual. As I was unwrapping my scarf and hanging up my coat, a Recovery Room nurse came in and said "What are you doing here? All surgeries are cancelled- we are operating on a skeleton crew for emergencies only!" (Since I was supervised from a different department than the OR staff, I never got notified.) "Didn't you listen to the weather report?" No- I listened to an album while I dressed. So, back on with the boots, and back out into the storm, which was harder, heavier and windier.
I walked to Copley (I seldom took the Green line trolley- had to wait too long and it's quicker to walk) and waited for a bus homw that never came. So I started walking. I got to the New England Medical Center and waited for a BayView bus. A bus came along after an hour with an "Out of Service" sign and the driver pulled over. "They recalled all the buses- the T is closing," he cried to the huddle of frozen waiters. "I am on my way to the yard but I can take you to Albany Street!" So we all got in and he dropped us off at the Broadway Bridge. We all got out and faced the howling wind. The group headed out onto the bridge, which spans the Fort Point Channel that ends in the harbor. The wind swept in from the ocean, the water was so high already (and this was before the high tide) and the bridge was an inhospitable place. One elderly lady (who told me she had gone to keep a medical appointment only to discover all appointments were cancelled) fell behind in the snow, weeping. I fell back with her. "I can't make it," she wailed. "Oh yes, you can," I told her, "we will do this together, I won't leave you behind. It seemed like hours trudging blindly through white-out snow over the bridge. Once we got beyond the water, we had a little cushion from the wind. Her son lived in a triple-decker in the Lower End; I escorted her there. He opened the door and cried in relief; he had been calling her for hours with no answer. They wanted me to come in and warm up, but I declined and went on down Broadway.
I made to my parents' house near the beach around noon. When I went in, to my utter shock, there was my sister holding her baby. She had a premonition that if she didn't leave, she would not get home. Having a healthy dread of hospitals, she signed herself and baby out AMA and made her husband drive them home. They stopped in to show off the baby to my mom, so I got to hold my niece for the first time. She was a perfect rosebud of a baby. They went off to their apartment and I changed into warm, dry, clothes.
My older sister came by with her son shortly after. She normally worked 3-11 at NEMC on the hematology-oncology floor; she wanted to get in before the storm got worse. She left her eight-year-old with me and Mom, and headed out. She met a friend on Broadway, hoping to hail a bus or cab; at this point it was a snow emergency and the National Guard picked them up and escorted them in (necessary personnel). She was stuck there for days as relief personnel could not get in- but that's her story.
I called my sister at home; she was doing ok. I asked her if she needed anything; she was low on bread and milk. So around four pm, Richie and I bundled up and headed a block away to the corner store. We bought what was almost the last of their milk, eggs, and bread, and trudged up the next block to my sister's apartment. When my brother-in-law opened the door, he didn't know who we were, we were so covered in snow. We had cocoa and held the baby, and then headed back out into the storm. I debated a trip to the beach- I do love the beach in a bad storm- but even I recognized this was a very bad idea. Right after I got Richie home, the power went out.
We lit candles and played cards by candlelight while listerning to the radio for reports on the storm. The storm raged, but we were safe, and warm. I have always loved storms and loved snow; I was quite content. I was reading a very enthralling novel by candlelight; "The Shining" by Stephen King. I remember waking up with a nightmare and listening to the wind howling as I tried to get back to sleep. (Fortunately the image of Nicholson quipping "Heeere's Johnny!" with is maniacal grin was far in the future at this point!)
The storm ended late the next day, and we began the task of . I have pictures of the streets covered in snow- you couldn't dig out because there was no place to put it. It was days before buses ran again, so everyone had to walk everywhere. We had enough perishables because Rich and I had gone out in the storm, but many people went without.
Sue was gone for days since personnel couldn't get in to the hospital. My dad was in the hospital and although ready for discharge, could not get home and had to stay. He called frantically every day, but there was nothing we could do. My sister's in-laws didn't get to see the baby for weeks, since the roads were closed.
And the hospital my sister gave birth in, high on a hill, was inaccessible; they had to do food and supply drops by helicopter. She was right; she would never have gotten out.

It has rained all day today, dark, dismal and depressing. I talked to my niece a long time on the phone. She reminds me that she has always had snow for her birthday, and that everyone reminds her of her arrival with the blizzard. Now, hours into today's storm, it is pouring harder than it has all day and it is lightning and thundering as well. I have my candles, and I am warm and content.
Happy birthday, honey.

Pyro at Imbolc

2008-02-06T22:10:00.000-05:00

Every fall as the days grow shorter, I find myself pulling out candles and burning them in the hours that I am home. I rotate my scents; this fall I was on a major apple kick, and happily, the Christmas Tree Shop had some great and inexpensive apple candles I stocked up on. Evergreen for the holiday and now I have moved on to vanilla. For a few weeks, I was home so seldom I never lit one, but now I am back with a vengeance.

I have always thought it is my way of compensating for the long hours of darkness. By providing not only glowing light, but also scent to delight an additional sense and trigger a mechanism of comfort. It's dark and rainy today and has gotten progressively worse all day. It gets dark later every day, but on a day like this, it's so hard to tell that winter is losing its hold.
I save the candle stubs and make my own candles. It's dead easy, and is a pleasant pasttime.

Today was a distinctly non-productive day. The last few days I worked were very busy and required a great deal of energy, and my days off have involved driving distances to do things for family. Today I slept in and woke tired. I tried to do some paperwork, and got little accomplished, so I decided to just call it quits and do some reading and blogging and chatting with people I care about. After burning the candle at both ends, today I am kicking back and just burning the candles.

The Privelege Meme

2008-01-27T23:40:00.000-05:00

Yeah, I am a sucker for a meme, but this one made me do some thinking.
One of the things I think about is my complete inability to do yes or no answers.

This meme is from “What Privileges Do You Have?”, based on an exercise about class and privilege developed by Will Barratt, Meagan Cahill, Angie Carlen, Minnette Huck, Drew Lurker, Stacy Ploskonka at Illinois Indiana State University.
Done in a classroom setting, students would line up and take one step forward for every statement that is true.

I have made bold those which I answer yes.

1. Father went to college: Nope. Father graduated in the middle of the Great Depression. He got accepted but his parents couldn’t come up with the cost- a whopping $200. He got sent to the CCC.

2. Father finished college: Nope.

3. Mother went to college: Nope. She graduated during the Depression, too.

4. Mother finished college: Nope. She went to work as a cook as soon as she graduated high school, and counted herself lucky.

5. Have any relative who is an attorney, physician, or professor. Not first degree, and none of my parents’ generation. Two of my cousins- the only two families that moved away from our neighborhood- did become professors. My cousin is a lawyer and my cousin’s daughter is an MD. I am a PharmD and dammit, that is no small potatoes!

6. Were the same or higher class than your high school teachers: hard to tell- they were nuns. I guess that made them as poor as the rest of us!

7. Had more than 50 books in your childhood home: Definitely. And 49 of them were mine!

8. Had more than 500 books in your childhood home. No, but I sure had more than 500 in the home I raised my kids in. I’m pretty sure I have nearly that many now; 5 bookcases full.

9. Were read children’s books by a parent: Nope- I could read by age 3 so I basically read to myself.

10. Had lessons of any kind before you turned 18: I had piano lessons for one year. It was a very good year.

11. Had more than two kinds of lessons before you turned 18. Nope. My mom put me in dance lessons when I was 6. I loved it until I discovered I was expected to dance on stage in a recital. I flatly refused and she never forgave me. The only reason I got piano lessons was the nun spoke to her directly about my musical talent and kind of bullied her into it.

12. The people in the media who dress and talk like me are portrayed positively: I don’t think any people like me are in the media.

13. Had a credit card with your name on it before you turned 18. No. I think I was twenty-six with two or three kids.

14. Your parents (or a trust) paid for the majority of your college costs: Nope. I got an allowance of ten dollars a week for bus fare. I worked 3 jobs and it took me 5 years to get my BA. And they wondered why I ended up in a hospital.

15. Your parents (or a trust) paid for all of your college costs: Goose egg.

16. Went to a private high school. Yup- my parents felt that their friends who went to Catholic school had a huge advantage, so they scraped to send us to convent school. Wish they spent what they wasted on college!

17. Went to summer camp: Nope.

18. Had a private tutor before you turned 18: Nope. But I never would have needed one.

19. Family vacations involved staying at hotels. We took a road trip once & stayed in a cabin in the Berkshires, but my parents had a fight so we came home the next day. When I was a teen, they were fond of a resort place in New Hampshire and we went once a year.

20. Your clothing was all bought new before you turned 18. With two older sisters? I think not.

21. Your parents bought you a car that was not a hand-me-down from them. Not on this planet.

22. There was original art in your house when you were a child. Nope. My mother has this thing about fake wood and fake wrought iron…We had wallpaper that looked like wood, vinyl floors that looked like wood, and when she discovered sheet paneling, she went incredibly overboard. She was given her first original art by my sister’s boyfriend when I was 20. (He is now well-known and it’s worth a lot!) I bought her two paintings by a local artist that she is very fond of. But her idea of art involves plastic that looks like wrought iron. And Hummels.

23. You and your family lived in a single-family house. Hhhhmmm. Kinda sorta not really. We lived in a duplex and my grandparents and uncle lived upstairs. After Pappy died and my uncle married, my parents had the house opened up and we moved our bedrooms upstairs when I was 8.

24. Your parent(s) owned their own house or apartment before you left home. They bought my grandmother out, so I guess yes.

25. You had your own room as a child. No. At first all three of us were in one double bed. Then I shared a room with my sister (twin beds made of imported Vermont maple as my mom used to say).

26. You had a phone in your room before you turned 18. Nope. I’ve only had a phone in my room since I bought my current little farmhouse in 2002.

27. Participated in a SAT/ACT prep course. Nope. I signed up for the SAT and took it. I counted myself lucky, since my poor sister was placed in a city 40 miles away- my mom dropped her off and left her with a few bucks and instructions to find her own way home. No wonder we’re so self-sufficient.

28. Had your own TV in your room in high school: Nope. I would not have wanted one. I could never understand why my family would sit like zombies for hours. I was too nudgie and TV bored me so easily.

29. Owned a mutual fund or IRA in high school or college: Jeez, who made this thing up? I barely managed to pay for college, and I had to put grad school off because I couldn’t afford it!

30. Flew anywhere on a commercial airline before you turned 16: Actually, I flew with my family to Ontario to visit my great-uncle Paddy when I was 4. My sisters promptly came down with German measles and were quarantined, so I got to spend my entire vacation with Nana and Uncle Paddy being pampered and adored and spreading rubella through Port Colbourne (I got it when we came back!).

31. Went on a cruise with your family: Nope. But I did get to visit my daughter on her cruise ship…

32. Went on more than one cruise with your family: Nope.

33. Your parents took you to museums and art galleries as you grew up: Nope. But mom insisted I go to Bingo at the parish, which I hated. I discovered museums at age 16 and became a museum-a-holic. I had memberships when my kids were little.

34. If you had a computer at home. They didn't even have them in businesses when I was young!

35. If you had your own computer at home. See above.

36. You were unaware of how much heating bills were for your family: Nope. Every time the bill came in, BOTH parents griped.

37. If you have been to Europe. I scraped and saved enough to visit my family in London and Dublin and got bombed by the IRA. But it was not given to me to go.

38. If you had your own cell phone in High School. They didn’t HAVE cell phones when I was in high school. Phones still involved cords and were usually black.

When the questions have all been asked, the following instructions are given:
“Now everyone recognize that you are at the same place academically. Everyone turn around. Everyone has permission to talk. No one has permission to accuse any one or any group of anything. Everyone must use “I” statements.

Note that the people on one end of the room had to work harder to be here today than the people at the other end of the room. Some of you had lives of more privilege than others. There is no one to blame, it is just the way it is. Some have privilege and some don’t.”

Anfa’s score is a whopping TEN/36. I guess I flunk Privelege 101.
Whatever. If there's an Experience 101, I passed that with flying colours long, long ago.

Cape Codder

2008-01-06T19:12:00.002-05:00

We had planned a quick trip to the Cape in december but it didn't pan out. Rescheduled for a Nana weekend, we employed Kate as resident lifeguard, Nanny, gameplayer and girl toy extraordinaire. This allowed the exhausted grandparents to basically kick back and just enjoy.
Great-Aunt Nini had to work on Saturday in NH, so I missed the wave pool, bonfire and dinner, but arrived in time for girl talk. My favourite grand-nephew lit up with a huge smile when Nini came in. Among the discussion was favourite painting, favourite dessert, favourite fruit and favourite toy (Jordyn wanted to know what our favourite adult toy was and couldn't understand why we laughed so hard or so long...).

The younguns enjoyed a Dunkins breakfast picnic-style, but Kate and I sneaked off for a real breakfast before joining the crowd in the wave pool.

We joined the family with a cake for Jordyn's 6th birthday and shared some gifts. The girls got to open and try on all of their dress-ups. Richie particularly liked the Johnny Depp pirate dreadlocks and the sword. The punk rocker outfits were also a big hit.

We just had such a great time hanging out together. The adults are exhausted, but they are an incredibly fun group of kids.

It's MY Parking Spot!

2008-01-03T10:26:00.000-05:00

I grew up in Boston, where the winters can be fierce when the Montreal Express roars through. The competition over parking can be deadly- you put in hours shovelling out your vehicle after a storm, pull away and mark your turf with a barrel or cone or bin or chair. Then you come home to find someone took your marker and your spot as well.
Last year the mayor decreed that so many days after a storm, the city would pick up all markers and parking was back to a free-for-all. My kids are living in Boston, so I get to hear their woes.
When we bought our first house, we decided we had to have off-street parking, ie, a driveway. The second-largest city in New England wasn't much different from the biggest. I had had one neighbor watch me shovel out a spot (and I was largely pregnant), then steal my bin and blithely park there. So we thought our parking worries were over.
My driveway was blocked so frequently, it was ridiculous. On a street lined with driveways, every one would be open and mine would be blocked. Some days I could not get to work until the city came and towed away the offender. Unfortunately, the city policy was to first try and find the owner and notify him/her by phone that they were blocking my drive. I had many a person visiting another house on the street who would just pull into my drive and leave their car. Of course, they didn't want to inconvenience their friends, but it was ok to inconvenience a total stranger. My personal favourites were;
1. The woman who lived next door for 3 months and parked one night straight across my driveway. The cops traced her car by the college sticker, and she came bumbling out, hung over, to move her vehicle. She never noticed there was a driveway there, she said, because it was dark. I pointed out the big pole directly across from my driveway- the streetlight. Not to mention she had been living on the street for months. That one caused both ex and I to be 1.5 hours late for work.
2. The teacher from the school up the street who parked across my drive because there was no parking closer to the school.
3. The guy visiting the people next door. He didn't want to park in their driveway in case they needed to get out. What if we needed to get out? Oh- he didn't think about that. What gave him the right to park in our driveway in the first place? He didn't think about that,either.
4. The tenants' friends. There was not enough room for our tenants to park in the drive, so they used the street. Their friends didn't. Their friends felt that pulling in for a few hours was a god-given right of being a Friend of Tenant. I would just pull in behind them and block them. Inevitably, when I was in the middle of feeding the family dinner, the knock on the door would come and the "You're blocking me in.." call would start. I would inform said friends that I would move my car after dinner at my convenience, and all hell would break loose. It was perfectly ok for unrelated people who didn't pay me rent to inconvenience me by using my personal space as a public lot, but when I refused to more right away for them- I was a major bitch.

When I bought the new house after my divorce, I once again had driveway on my MUST HAVE list. For the first time in my life, I am in a small town. I thought parking was no longer a problem. Boy did I think wrong!
This morning I looked out to see a commercial truck parked perpendicular to (and six inches from) my new little car, in MY driveway. I went out in my robe and a young white guy was in the truck. May I ask why you are in my drive? "I am just waiting for someone in the house next door." Then why don't you park in their drive? "I thought someone mught be pulling out and I didn't want to get in their way." So why do you think it's ok to be in MY way? This is my property, you are not working for me or visiting me..."But I am just waiting for someone. I will only be here a few minutes."
APPARENTLY the world does not understand that MY property means NOT YOURS, NOT THE NEIGHBORS and NOT TO BE PARKED ON.
Since I moved in, I have had my neighbors' tenants, their guests, their family and their friends, and the idiots they hire to do work on the house all merrily take possession of my side of the driveway. Now, I share a drive; their side is paved, and they have a yard big enough for six cars to park and then some turning space. I have a dirt drive that also exits on the side street, a large lawn and a crawlspace with two doors that exit onto the drive. Here are my favourite driveway incidents in the new house:
1. The tenant next door had a son who does not live with him who thought it would be ok to buy a junk car, have it towed to MY driveway and parked, so he could work on it at his convenience. I thought it was stolen and abandoned, since it was torn to bits inside, so I called the cops and asked them to tow it. When I cam home that night from work, it was still there. I called cops again. Cops informed me it belonged to the people next door and talk to them. I said NO- it was parked illegally on my property and I wanted it towed off. Cops called daddy next door, daddy called sonny. Half an hour later, sonny boy came with some friends and jumper cables, filled my driveway with vehicles, got it running and drove it away. I went out and asked them why they thought it would be ok to leave their car in my driveway. I dunno, we just thought it would be ok cos my dad lives here. But your dad doesn't live HERE- he lives over there next door. I dunno.
2. The birthday party for the insane twins. Next door, we used to have this crazy woman who had twins and a baby, plus her hub had a bunch of kids from his ex. There was always screaming and slapping and lots of country music blasting the same song over and over again (and many calls to the cops and child protective services by those of us who were mandated reporters). They had a birthday party, and the cars began to line MY driveway. I went out each time; excuse me- this is my driveway. You'll have to park somewhere else. "Oh well, I don't want to park in their driveway, they won't be able to get out!" Well- if you park in MY driveway, I won't be able to get out either, will I? "OH." And this is NOT my tenant, and this is NOT a public parking lot, so you need to move. "Where will I park?" (Like I give a rat's *** you hick!) How about somewhere else?
3. The roofers. My neighbor had her roof done, and hired this crew. I woke up in the morning and there were trucks all over my driveway AND parked on my LAWN. They were merrily ripping off roofing shingles and tossing them down on MY side of the driveway (can't risk having nails on their side and flattening the neighbors' tires, but it apparently is ok to flatten MY tires. I went out and said "EXCUSE ME! Why are there construction trucks in my driveway AND on my LAWN, and why are you throwing your construction debris in MY yard? I am not having MY roof done..." Well, if we throw it in this yard, their cars cannot get in and out. "Well- I MYSELF cannot get in or out can I?" "No speaky English." And after that they refused to speak English and turned up the radio every time I went out to yell at them to get out of my drive, or remove their crap from my drive. The foreman parked at the end of my driveway every day for months and it drove me nuts when I was studying for my exams, but if I yelled, they got louder and it made it worse. I asked my neighbor to tell them to stay out of the driveway, and I am sure she did. I like her a lot, and I don't want our relationship ruined by something she is not in control of.
I guess I need to be a more consistent bitch and call the police every time someone is in my drive. God knows they are looking for something to do in this sleepy little town. But then my address will be in the police log in the local paper.
It just seems to be my karma to have driveway issues.

A postscript, four hours later on the same day:
Returned from numerous errands and pulled in my drive only to find a large pick up truck full of tools parked not only in my drive but in my spot that I have the plow guy plow for me. The very friendly worker listened nicely as I blew up completely and then commented that they had parked there because they didn't want to inconvenience the tenant who was parked sideways across three spaces next to the dumpster in the neighbor's yard.

New Years Resolutions

2008-01-03T00:43:00.001-05:00

1. Spend more time with family. After four years in school, I want to spend my non-work time being more available to spend time with my family. My sister has taken my parents to nearly all of their medical appointments, so I owe her big time. Having 3 of my kids in the Boston area means I should be able to do more with them. Hoping to ski, do theatre, travel etc. And did I mention I have 2 little nieces and a nephew whom I adore? Definitely more Nini time is in order!!!
2. Health. I need to hydrate better, eat more fruits and veggies and move more. Yeah, yeah, whatever. I know.
3. Happiness. I want more music in my life. I want more spontaneity. I gave up so much and made my life so regimented in order to meet my goals, and I did it. Now it’s time to kick back and get in tune with the things that give me pleasure. Spending time with friends, appreciating nature and beauty, enjoying my pets- all in the menu for the new year.
That’s it. The basics. Health, happiness.

Christmas

2008-01-02T23:55:00.001-05:00

We do our celebration on Christmas Eve. Our family has gotten together since 1969 and celebrated on Christmas Eve with dinner, gifts, and then midnight Mass. Over the years as my mom got debilitated with knee replacements, we switched from celebrating at her house to taking turns at the three sisters' homes, hosting the dinner. Last year was my turn, and one sister opted out with her family; my mom's serious illness kept my parents from joining us. This year should have been the eldest sister's turn, but her illness precluded it, and I announced I would host the do. My aunt suggested having it back at my parents' and so my daughter and I ran the show from there. We were most grateful that my sister made it despite serious illness, and she pulled it together to see her grandchildren. My cousin and his wife joined us, for which we were extra grateful since thy had just had a death in the family.
Kate did the lions' share by showing up at 8AM (and feeding her grandparents a Dunkins Croissandwich treat) and plunking in the turkey. She did all the veggies up and any odd jobs. I got there for 1 pm and we made the stuffing and finished all the cooking. The vegetarian cooked the turkey; the celiac made the stuffing. The boys (who had 100 lbs of potatoes as a paternal gift) made the mashed praetes. Kate had made pies and candies; we had other folks bring desserts, and Mom & Kate picked up a gorgeous strawberry shortcake Mom ordered.
Rich and Corey and the kids came: Kay and Jordyn were highly entertained reading the tags on all the gifts now that they can read. The PeeWee Christmas Special was duly played; KD Lang in a dress was the highlight of the evening. Richie grabbed a toy ruler which he mistook for a phone and it was passed thru all the family for a conversation with Santa and handed back to him. Dan advised Santa to skip presents for the children and bring monkeys instead; the monkey theme is now central in their play. The dinner was good: turkey and ham, veggies of all kinds, two kinds of stuffing. The presents were fun; books and dvd's and clothes and gift cards. I must say that I outdid myself with the girls; a dress-up box full of costumes for each child. My personal amazing gift was a Roomba; can't wait to get it going and see the kitties' reaction.
We sent dessert home with the kids since they had to get back to the Cape, but we did have time for crackers. Word to the wise; a pill case is not the same as a yoyo.
We were all pretty exhausted by Christmas: four snowstorms in 7 days in addition to all the holiday work made it hectic. Three of my four stayed over for Christmas. I woke early for Mass and made it in time. We had the usual big breakfast. I burnt the first batch of bacon and was told by #4 that Mommy ruined Christmas. Then he burnt the toast and we were even. We did our presents, and they left at 4 for their paternal side. I headed to my sister's with a Christmas plate for Ted, then down to my parents for a cup of tea.
I had the day after off from work but spent it at the hospital with my sis, who was so ill she was admitted. It made me even more grateful that we had such a good holiday all together. The best part was spending time with the kids and being with my own kids in the morning. The best present is being together!

Notes from a Pharmacy

2007-12-17T10:00:00.001-05:00

I don't know why anyone decides to be a pharmacy technician, because I think they should be paid much more than they do make, but I am so glad some people do. My first days as a new practitioner I came close to the record of prescriptions per day that this location held. The only thing that pulled me through was my joy to finally be in the driver's seat, and the wonderful trio of staff I am currently working with. They solve insurance problems more quickly than I can at this point. The crazier the environment became, the more confident I felt because of those wonderful, smart and dedicated techs. I am sure they wish I would stop singing, but that's not going to happen.
I love that the company I am with values my time as a professional and provides enough help so that I CAN counsel on new prescriptions, help people choose the appropriate OTC product and answer questions. Yesterday I worked alone for the first time due to a huge snow storm, and I could feel the difference: I filled fewer prescriptions, and it felt like more work.
I believe people don't understand how much work goes into filling a prescription and they get angry if we say it's going to be fifteen minutes. We take in the hardcopy and ask for your birthdate; are you in our computer system? (No, our computer system does NOT take your information from all the other pharmacies and magically put it in ours!) Any change in insurance? Let us see if we have this in stock (somehow people get offended when I say this- how do we know what to stock until a patient orders it?). We need your drivers license. No we cannot fill without it, it's required by law for drugs in class II like Ritalin and Percocet. The Rx goes to the tech to type- what is this drug? Does it say Zocor or Zoloft? Call the doctor for clarification. He is in with a patient, the nurse will call back. Sometimes the doctor has the nurse collect all messages and he calls back once a day; this means that we can't fill in 15 minutes, and it's NOT our fault even if you choose for us to be the ones to yell at. Yes, we know it's a pain in the butt to have to come here twice. We get the call and now we know the correct drug, so we proceed, Choose the correct drug and put a basket together. Locate you in the computer, or type in all your info. Yes it IS important for us to know your allergies. You say you are allergic to codeine but the drug you want us to fill is Vicodin, which contains a product that belongs in the codeine family. What happens when you take codeine? You get constipated. Does your throat close, or do you have trouble breathing, or do you get a rash? No. But since you have never had Vicodin before, we have to call the doctor and confirm your allergy status. It's not going to be fifteen minutes. Doc says no you are not allergic and have had other codeine products in the past according to his records. We fill the prescription, choosing the correct NDC number for the drug. We bottle and label it and it comes to me. I ensure this is correct patient, correct drug, correct amount, and verify that the drug in the bottle is the drug from the stock bottle in the basket, and the NDC, name, strength and dose form match. If new, I check all the directions off from the original hardcopy, and we file it. Then we dispense it to you. Why does it cost so much? We asked you if there was any change in insurance and you said no. It was rejected by the insurance so we put it through for cash. You have another insurance card? That's why we asked. We send it back to enter all the new information, and we run it through again. It costs more than it did last time? Maybe that's because you have new insurance and the last time you filled with the old insurance. Why is their co-pay higher? You need to talk to your HR person at work.
Most of the time these wonderful techs are dashing about handling all this craziness while I am checking, answering questions and running out to help choose a product outside the pharmacy. I'd say 95% of the customers are pleasant, but the 5% left over can go a long way in raising the energy level for keeping a pleasant environment. The toughest are people who hate to wait, and who call in their prescriptions, then never get around to picking them up. It's considered insurance fraud to keep a prescription on the shelf more than 14 days. Technically, the insurance has paid for a product that the patient they cover has NOT got possession of. So we return to stock, but then in comes the patient the very next day and now the patient is mad that it's going to take 15 minutes for us to locate, fill and dispense. The patient doesn't care that we wasted time filling it then returning it then filling it again. All he cares about is he didn't want to wait- didn't he say that in the first place?
In the middle of all this, we had a few problems, some got solved, others must wait until the manager has time to give me guidance.
I like the tasks, especially when the work is flowing nicely. I like the challenges, and solving problems. No two days are alike. I like when the situation requires creativity, and I like when I turn an unhappy person into one whose situation is resolved. I like when people stop by to say they feel better. A mom came to thank me for taking the time to show her daughter how to use and care for her new asthma inhaler. The patient who thanked me for giving her a list of prices so her doctor could choose medications she could afford. The guy who didn't know he could get better control of his cholesterol by taking his med at a different time of day until I mentioned it while ringing him out. And the man with the very sick wife came in to say she was better and to thank me for my prayers.
But best of all, I like my techs.

Anfa's "I Want Rant"

2007-11-22T18:47:00.002-05:00

Enough thanks. I have a lot of things I want. This is independent of the list of things I need. Not in any particular order:
I want to:
1. Go back to Ireland. This time I want all my kids with me. We'll get a house and a car and use it as home base and destination. I want to see that look on Dan's face again, and Kate's smile.
2. Go see Black 47- playing in Shirley MA on Dec 14!!!
3. Go see Celtic Sojourn again. I want this to be my new Christmas tradition.
4. Take ceili dance lessons again.
5. Study language again. Enough science, I need to work another part of the brain.
6. Learn to play another instrument: maybe the violin or the Celtic harp. I think violin is more practical, I may have to go to Boston for harp lessons.
7. See more of my friends. And now I have so many more of them to stay in touch with! I have potential visits to Quebec, Colorado, California, Texas, North Carolina and DC.
8. See more of the kids. If my own kids won't give me grandchildren, then dammit, I will just appropriate my sister's.
9. Sing more. I was singing tonight and Sorcha just looked at me with adoring eyes. She loves when I sing. I love when I sing. I need to do it more often. Especially if I have something to sing about.
10. Read more and fill in some of the gaps in my library. Current reading material: a history of Ireland, a compendium of Heinlein short stories and novellas, "The Four Agreements", one of Kate's philosophy books, and "the Fates of the Princes of Dyved", a Mabinogion retelling re-published from the late 1800's. Plus a few pharmacy journals for light reading.
11. Garden more. Obviously this is waiting until spring.
12. Wake up 30 pounds lighter. OK since this one is a non-starter, I want to move more and get fit again. I like being fit and have got way out of the habit. I need to stop being a binge exerciser and make it my lifestyle again.

Anfa's Celtic Thanksgiving

2007-11-22T18:20:00.000-05:00

I am gratified and a little startled at the reactions of friends and family over my Thanksgiving plans. Intentions: stay at home in jammies and watch movies- engrave watches if there's a burst of energy.
Thanksgiving is an EvilEx holiday; the evil ex and his family LOVE to cook and love to eat, so TGDay is an orgy as far as they are concerned. The boys would hate to miss it; Dutiful Daughter the vegetarian goes to be the dutiful child she is. ExMIL feels that since she lacks turkey joy, another dish must be provided and has been in the habit of making macaroni and cheese just for Kate (and gobbled by the testosterone-driven mutant contingent).
I am used to the lot wanting to be with the Other Side. The past few years as I was in school, I had no problem with that, and used the day for a nice walk and a nice nap. Now, getting used to working 12 hour shifts several days a week, I still have no problem with my new holiday routine. But everyone else seems to.
I have had more invitations to dine this year. I am so touched. Yet I am a little horrified that people who know me envision me sitting alone with my cats, a solitary tear dripping into my shiraz. Well, ok, I really am sitting here with my cats and shiraz, but I am so totally cool with it. I had rice and beans for dinner and am very satisfied. I love a turkey dinner, and I cook it whenever I have guests in winter. My ancestors were not pilgrims and this holiday has no great attachment for me. I am not a football fan, and the parades in tv have no hold on my attention.
I have no attention span for reading today, so I deleted files on my laptop, burnt cds of pics to share with my friends, and made a few music cds to listen to. I did some prep work for engraving, but need a sunnier day to finish the actual job.
I am watching "A Christmas Celtic Sojourn" on PBS, which I did not get to see live last year becasue Sis had influenza and was hospitalized the entire time I made my preparations for hosting our family Christmas holiday. My heart is full of Irish music and the people on this program are featured in my extensive collection; Karan Casey, Navan, Clancy Bros. My ancestors were healers, craftsmen and musicians. I am all three wrapped up in one. I am content to be myself, at home, with music and pets around me, my exams behind me and my future ahead. My belly is full and so is my wineglass. My heart is full with music and calculations and plans for the coming winter. I have much to give thanks for, and many blessings.

The Vibes Roll In

2007-11-19T22:41:00.001-05:00

I've had more congratulatory messages lately, but today took the cake. Around 2 pm my phone rang, and a voice asked "Is this Kate's Mom?" After a second, I realized, yes, I am her mom, and gave an affirmative. Then I got a singing telegram from India, courtesy of Kate, that made me laugh so hard. It was earnest and sweetly sung and very different-all about deserving a cookie, maybe two, and maybe the whole bag...
I'm still laughing, it just cracked me up so much. Tajtunes.com, check it out.
Rich and Cori sent me a beautiful dracaena "lucky bamboo" plant that is twisted and trained and looks like Celtic knotwork. Daimhnhait enjoyed the box and is delightedly nesting on the styrofoam beans and then chasing them, so I haven't the heart to toss them yet.
So many people have sent such lovely sentiments. It's nice to have such a relief.
Tomorrow is MPJE and hopefully I'll be done. Bring on the cookies!

How I Took The NAPLEX and Maintained My Sanity (Recipe Included)

2007-11-08T13:12:00.000-05:00

I am so incredibly relieved my exam is over. I just freaked myself out to discover that the paperwork to transfer my score to my home state (I did it first in the neighboring state, meaning to have both primary licenses) had to be done BEFORE the day I took the exam and is not valid if received AFTER. Done deal. Now I have to wait a year and practice and then apply to reciprocate my license. Maybe God had a reason for inducing my brain fart. Of course, the fact that I had pneumonia when I got the paperwork and signed up had nothing to do with it...:) I'll get over it.
I felt the exam was awful! A few times, I wondered if anyone ever ran from the place screaming. You get thumbprinted, they take your picture and they tape the whole room at all times. But the staff was so nice and had soothing music in the wait room, beautiful artwork and very kind demeanors. All my friends got questions on rarer disease states and said they struggled, so I boned up on those, and health literacy and the usual top morbidities. I had many calculations, which take longer than case questions, drug names and classes. I like them and am usually very good at them, I just think I got an abnormally large amount. I finished with 10 minutes to spare. My favourite question was what is the generic name for … the drug I did my poster on.
ALL my friends from school called the night before. Nana set up a conference call with Michelle to pray with me- incredibly sweet & very appreciated. I emailed out for prayers and received many back- I could feel everyone thinking of me as I worked my way through. Thank you all, it helped me to know I wasn’t alone. Kate met me at home and took me out to dinner at a favourite Mexican restaurant, and we shopped a little for some crafts we are planning. It was a great way to wind down.
In spite of the stress, I am enjoying a beautiful fall. I love this time of year. I am burning apple-scented candles at night with my star lights on, listening to Irish music while the burner kicks in down in the cellar, and the cats find cozy places out of the draft. I have autumn leaves in the vases and they look like fire in the bay window in the pewter vases Buck gave me. I can hear the leaves hitting the windows and sounding like ice. When it rains, the mice try and burrow in and Sorcha stands guard in the cellar. I love the chill even when I have to leave a little earlier and scrape ice off the windshield. After a few days. I'll be used to it and it will be part of my routine, but right now it isn't; it makes me take stock of the fall mornings and notice everything more clearly. I am cooking a bit more, and more nutritiously because I obviously needed it. Michelle stayed with me when we went to a wedding, and we ate our way through the weekend. It's a beautiful time.
Here’s our favourite fall recipe: take a package of cranberries, and pick out all the stems and bad ones, rinse, and put in a saucepan with 2/3 cup of orange juice and two tablespoons of sugar. Bring to a boil, then turn the heat to medium and cook 20-30 minutes until reduced to a nice sauce. Put a wedge of Brie in the oven or toaster oven to warm until it gets a little runny. Then slice up a couple of Granny Smith apples into thin wedges and arrange on a platter. Place a spoonful of Brie and a spoonful of cranberries on top and serve immediately. It’s so pretty and the textures and tastes meld so well. It’s a Kate recipe. Great stuff, and so good for you too. It takes about 30 minutes to make, and looks so impressive. Enjoy!

The Closer & the Dropkick Murphys

2007-10-30T13:36:00.000-04:00

QUICK POST!
OK it's common knowledge I like Irish music and punk rock, so it's no surprise that I have been a fan of Dropkick Murphys since I first saw them at the Guinness Fleadh back in the 90s. Now they are the mascots for RedSox Nation.
It's also common knowledge how I have absolutely no attention span for watching sports.
Now my Dad, Hank, wanted nothing more than one World Series win before he
died- the previous win before the curse was the year before he was born
in 1918. 2004 was a great thing, but, hey, they done it again! A fair weather
fan, I did watch the last few innings of each of the Series games.
Sunday night, I sat on the edge of my seat in absolute suspense and
screamed in joy for the Closer as he coolly struck Colorado out.
I am doing online banking before I go back to the NAPLEX studying, but how can I miss the victory parade? The Dropkick Murphys have been playing "Tessie" and Papelbon
dances in his red plaid kilt. It is a gorgeous fall day, and all hearts
are happy in Boston today. The Duck boats wend their way through
thousands of NewEnglanders as the bagpipes screel and the broom guitar wails.
GO SOX!!!!!

Good things and bad things

2007-10-12T16:52:00.000-04:00

BAD things first- let's get them out of the way.
1. I had walking pneumonia last week and lost a whole week of work. Starts with a viral upper respiratory infection (that's a cold for all you non-medical types). Progresses to serious when the lower respiratory tract (that's the lungs) gets infected. If you hack up white or clear crap, it's viral. Green means bacterial, and hie thee to the ER, which I did, and saw a doc who knew me from the hospital. Got put on a nice strong antibiotic. I was so ill, I had to call Kate and ask her to come fetch me cough syrup, kleenex, and cook me chicken soup (there is data on the efficacy of chicken soup, you know). This is maybe the fourth time (in 20 years) that this has happened, and I really thought I'd get better faster. My voice was gone for a week, and I was too weak to read, even something simple like Harry Potter.
2. I lost a WHOLE week of work. My paycheck's going to suck.
3. The major side effect of antibiotics is GI upset. Right now I am lying flat because my lower GI tract is pretty pissed off. I didn't know it could swear like that.

OK time for the GOOD things:
1. Put this under EXTREMELY GOOD: my Authorization To Test letters came last Saturday, the day after the NAPLEX re-opened. I logged on and signed up to take my NAPLEX on Nov 6 and MPJE two weeks after. (I could have taken Oct 31 but debated pros and cons with Kate, who wisely suggested a coin toss with my lucky Irish penny.) I am back to studying slavishly now that I can read and retain again.
2. Vegetarians are completely capable of making really good chicken soup. Thanks, Kate, it really did help.
3. Buck took my trash to the Transfer Station (PC for dump). It's a weekly ordeal, not fun when you're sick. He made me American Chop, and it hit the spot.
4. It's raining like crazy. We needed rain badly. It justifies the want to snuggle up in my nice purple room with good music on my laptop and a big pharmacy review book.
5. My kitties haven't left my side since I got sick. It's nice to wake up as the filling in a kitty sandwich, all toasty warm. Sorcha must stretch and give me a kiss every hour or so. Her deep bass rumbly purr is a funny counterpoint to Cujo's soprano trill. And Daimhnhait keeps sneaking in and purring under the bed. They seem to have forgiven me for running out of cat food and substituting tuna.
6. OK, it's not something I really care terribly about, but it qualifies as GOOD: how bout those Sox? It would be nice to have one more series for my dad and aunt.
7. I hit paydirt at the Christmas Tree Shop yesterday. Got Hallowe'en cards (we are a card-sending family) and trinkets for the five-year olds, Trick or Treat candy and toys, and a cabinet for my downstairs bathroom, and a candle that smells deliciously like apple. I love the apple candle scent in fall.
8. I may get to visit with my boy, who is now walking, and the big girl, so now I am Hallowe'enly prepared. I don't take much time to do things I like, but whenever I have a chance to see my kiddos, I make an effort.

Career On Hold

2007-09-11T22:24:00.001-04:00

Apparently, a professor in the state of Georgia has been paying students to reconstruct questions and answers to the NAPLEX pharmacy exam. Then he turned around and "taught" a board review class and sold study packets containing real Q&A. This prompted the National Association of Boards of Pharmacy to shut down the exam and re-write it. Anyone who had an appointment after August 25 had his/her appointment cancelled and no new appointments will be issued until early November.

What does this mean? It means the HUNDREDS of graduates who hadn't yet stood the exam, or whose states required 500 hours of graduate intern experience now are left in the limbo of grad internland. Unable to be licensed, we cannot do the actual jobs for which we were hired. Our student loans are due and Sallie Mae is knocking at our financial doors, yet we are not collecting the full salaries we would have if this suspension never happened. Some of us have relocated and floated moving expenses, anticipating the full salary tied to the completion of the licensing procedure. Some of us are being told that contracts required being licensed within a certain time period, even though that contractual obligation would have been met except for this.
Pharmacy chains are scrambling to cover positions that new hires should be working.

If I need to look at the positives, well, it gives me some more time to study. But I am definitely not a happy camper about this.

Up Time and Down Time

2007-09-01T16:43:00.000-04:00

It's been a really busy summer- and it flew by so fast! I've been studying for my licensure exam (NAPLEX) & working at two stores as a graduate intern, and trying to squeeze in family time. I have managed to keep Farmer Hank's garden weeded weekly even though the weeds are so high at my own house that someone stole a bike and stashed it in my garden and I have no idea how long it's been there. (I did buy the push mower I wanted but the weeds are too high- need to tame 'em down before I can use it.) I've been helping out a dear friend who has been ill with rides, errands and company when I am off. I hosted my dear friend Ros from Montreal and her high school friend and ran ragged all over Boston. We squeezed in a few days at the Cape and enjoyed every minute. Visited my "grandbaby" and his sisters and celebrated birthday #1 and trips to the beach. We plan to get together and see summer out on Labour Day if all goes well.
Then it's back to work.

Expecto Finalum!

2007-07-14T13:10:00.000-04:00

We saw the new Harry Potter movie at the IMAX the other night- the last 15 minutes were in 3-D. Nothing like a Voldemort spell heading right for your face to make you feel like you're truly living the high life. It was everything it was cracked up to be. My only disappointment; to save time, they change the plot slightly. It wasn't necessary, and could have been avoided. I dislike when they take license and change a plot point just because they can. Also- the Weasley's fireworks should have been 3-D. They were awesome!
I've been happy thinking Harry thoughts and matching up the pictures in my head with the pictures on the screen. My head is usually better, but the HP movies have done great justice.
I posted some thoughts about discussions Kate and I have had about the coming book and Kate has been very insistent that Harry is himself a Horcrux.

If you enjoy these speculations, you MUST visit this blogsite and read this excellent monologue (or rant if you will) on what will happen in Deathly Hallows. This guy is an acquaintance of Kate's from college, and he apparently majored in philosophy. He puts the hero saga dynamics into words much more glibly than my feeble keyboard (with no letters except q and z because I have typed all the rest of them off) could ever do. This guy John is an excellent writer (I have mentally corrected his grammar and wonder why "snuck" bothers me so much less than "pled" and "dived") and I look forward to reading more of his rants in future. ENJOY!!! I know I did!

http://thisisby.us/index.php/content/expecto_finalum

Green Street Hooligans

2007-07-02T23:11:00.000-04:00

Every once in a while, Dan brings me a movie that he prefaces with "You might find this offensive, but then again, you may like it..." Dogma was one, and it's one of my all-time favourites. Ryan A told me about Boondock Saints and he said he thought about me when he watched it (that Southie thing!)- he told me to ask Dan about it and sure enough, Dan had it. I ended up watching it twice over. Last fall, Dan brought me Green Street Hooligans, which he had got from Netflicks.
Now, you all know I am a relatively peaceful person with a karma will triumph philosophy. But I grew up in a tough place and no one messes with me or my loved ones. I tend to work through the system when there is a problem- but sometimes the system does not work and boy, do I know it.

Elijah Wood could not do a better job of leaving Frodo behind, and the lead role was perfect for him. Green St Hooligans is about a kid who has been wronged, goes to visit a family member to bide some time til he figures out what to do, and ends up part of something much bigger than himself. Football gangs in Europe seem to be a lot more violent than here (although baseball violence is pretty prevalent in my hometown, as witnessed by the riots when the Sox won, and yes, we know Dan was there). British (& European) fans take this to another notch with the formation of "firms" or gangs that basically fight whether their team wins or loses. People get hurt, and people may die, but the "reputation" of the firm stands on whether its participants stand up or back down from a fight. I watched the flick with Dan, and has dreams about it all night that disturbed me greatly. The next morning I watched it thru once more while I processed WHY it bothered me so. The violence is graphic, and repugnant, yet familiar to me in a sense as well.
Now, knowing when to stand up to conflict and when to back down has been a recurrent theme in my life. The hardest part is when it's your child who is being exposed to a conflict bigger than himself. One of my kids had a run with a series of physical assaults secondary to the tough neighborhood and public school system. I remember teaching him to how to throw a punch to make the most damage, and how to grab the assaulter's arm and flip him. He needed to be able to take care of himself when it was time to make a stand, and oddly enough, it was his mom who had the skills to impart. He certainly knows how to stand up for himself now. Watching this movie made me think a lot about him, and the fact that a lead character resembled him physically made it even scarier. I taught my child how to fight, but it disturbs me that sometimes he must. Thinking about GSH made me face the fear that by living where he does, he is in the way of trouble. And I know that I have taught my children to live peacefully, but to stand up for themselves when it's necessary, even when there is risk. But being confident, coolheaded and strong is not enough in volatile situations as many dead victims can tell us.
Now, I can't equate soccer with honour, or reputation. But I understand the need to belong to something in which the sum of all parts is equal to or greater than the power of one. I know the feeling of standing in conflict with someone at my back. I understand brotherhood. I am more apt to walk away and let things ride out; but I know how to stand, and I know how to fight. I also know when- and that is what makes me strong.

The character who disturbed my dreams looked like my child, walked like my child, and showed the same sensitivities my kid has displayed; great with children, quick with a quip, hard-drinking and passionately loyal to friends. The unfamiliar (yet not so unfamiliar to anyone from my town) parts were the thuggish brutality, the cold planning of assaults, and the violence. Yet this same character engaged in a sacrificial act that I could so imagine my kid doing, and every time I see the ending of this movie, I sob.
We all want a world where there is no unfairness and the quick and the clever and the good triumph, and our good guy team wins. The reality is a world where people cheat and lie, and loyalty is just a word, and money always wins (right, Mr Bush?).
But when your brothers stand beside you and back you all the way- for one brief moment solidarity means something.