Thursday, October 31, 2013

The Fairies Didn't Steal Me, Isabelle

Wheeling the bin out to the curb one recent dark night I gazed up at the peaceful, almost full, moon and thought about how small and insignificant our little lives and occupations must seem to the wise old man up there. And the very next thought was ---

 "I wonder if the Blister looked up at this very same moon earlier tonight?"

The Little Blister and I, in August, by the Thames

She might well have tried, but the chances are good to excellent that the weather meter in Ireland was stuck on "piddling rain," as usual, which would mean clouds, which would mean no moon, and since it's getting into Autumn over there, there could, along with piddling rain, be chill-inducing temperatures, unlikely to encourage mooning about in the driveway, gazing up at the sky.

 So, I wondered.

Did she stay inside today, wrapped in blankets against the Celtic chill? Did she beat the Retired One to the cozy chair? And sip hot tea while knocking off a scintillating post about the state of the world, on her laptop? Am I in for a treat when I nip over there later to check?

We had a long natter on the phone last weekend and made a pact to each write something on our blogs by Sunday. We didn't, however, sign it in blood. If she's feeling as distracted and discombobulated as I am, I'll forgive her if she's late. Big of me, I know.

I want to write, I have the time, but nothing comes that doesn't sound like drivel. What gives? Travelling, they say, broadens the mind;  "fills up the well." Can you hear the sloshing? All those new sights and sounds. Maybe they just went very deep and will take a while to swim up to the surface? Fingers crossed!

Meanwhile, since I have nothing inspirational to say, I'll try for some inspirational pictures.

So much for Trixie, of the six inch stilettos, in history, telling us about the evil Sassenachs. Cromwell and his ilk may have been evil, but the English I met were normal and charming. I may be just a teeny bit biased. You'll see why.....Here's exhibit A...What's not to love?

Little grand daughter

And exhibit B ......likewise.

Her big brother --- not-so-little-anymore grandson

The OC was besotted...

Oh Grandpa, what comfy shoulders you've got!

I'm putting the above, which has been languishing in draft form for weeks, out here so you'll know I tried. But it fizzled. My heart wasn't in blogging it seemed for now. All my writing energy, such as it is, is being absorbed by writing and editing for the writing group. And continues to be. Whether anything will come of it is anybody's guess, but I'm getting a lot of editing practice.

Meanwhile, the OC came home for an unprecedented two weeks! It was a shock to the system. I'm not used to company 24/7!  It was all "go" around here for the duration. The TV didn't know what happened to it. It actually got turned on at least once a day! The OC was in high velocity, organizational mode. Lots of hopping to it, clicking of heels and manning the shredder. Yard equipment humming and buzzing. And then, in a blink, he was gone. Tonight he's in Dublin. Verily I say unto you, there is no justice in the world. The man doesn't even like Guinness.

Another reason for quiet on the Mollybawn front is that I've been reading voraciously. The Blister kick-started me when she came to visit us in England and brought me Olive Kitteridge, and I found myself making notes of whole passages. Back home I devoured Light Between Oceans, Sweeping Up Glass, The Art Of Hearing Heartbeats and The Sense of an Ending. This list is for Birdy's benefit! They were all excellent but that last one was riveting. (Thank you Blister---It took me long enough to get around to it sez you!) I usually take more than a week to read a book. Now I'm scarfing them down like a starving woman. I've just started on Alice Munro. If you want to see me you'll have to make an appointment. My secretary is usually chasing lizards around the pool, so be patient. He'll fit you in between his kibble and his catnaps, while the house slowly caves in around us.

The clock is ticking and there are still an awful lot of books to read.

Tomorrow a quilt show! Stand by for pictures. We can breathe life into this old blog yet

There Isabelle.

 Look what you made me do......

Wednesday, October 02, 2013

The Fairies Brought Her

Castle Oliver, Co. Limerick

Note: Unrelated photos are a peace offering since I promised long ago to show you pictures of "piles of rocks" from Ireland, 2012. Here they are, at last. More to come.

Apologies to anyone who has stopped here recently in hopes of finding something new. Anything at all, but this dead silence! The Little Blister and I made a pact a few weeks ago. I will if you will, it went, loosely. We aimed for a Sunday, a week away. Anything to jolt her into getting her blog going again. I started something, but it fizzled. I sneaked a peek at hers on the appointed day. Nothing, so I didn't feel quite so bad, but wondered what was the problem with the two of us?

Monastery Ruins, Killmallock, Co. Limerick

I can't speak for The Blister, but for myself I've been overwhelmed with this writing group I've joined. There are regularly four of us, and each one emails their work to the others on a weekly basis to be edited and critiqued. I'm definitely the rookie in the bunch, so always scrambling to keep up. I love it but it leaves very little time for blogging, unless I want the house to fall down, which I don't.

So last week I'm casting about for a piece for the writers' group. I have a few options. This or that, I wonder? Making a random decision I email it off. Arrive at the meeting. Get great feedback, some solid suggestions on how to improve it. Go home happy.

Something impels me towards the computer though it's late enough I should just go to bed. I haven't looked at the Blister's blog in a week. I haven't spoken to her in two weeks.The last time she posted was three months ago. I go for a look, and amazingly, she has posted that very day.

 Eerie enough. But the eerie factor goes through the roof when I read what she's written. A post about The Brother. Would you like to know what the piece I sent to the writing group for that exact same night was about? The Brother! What are the chances?  Big time goosebumps.

The Blister and friend M, acting the maggot. On holy ground too!

They used to say when we were young that the fairies brought her. Others used to shake their heads and say "She was here before!"

 Doesn't she look like the fairies brought her? Me? I just look frozen, though it was the middle of June. That's Ireland for you,.

I think they were right.