Methods of Getting from one place to another

 How to get from one end of town to another when you are carrying cargo is the question for today.

1955 New Zealand

                                                   The following photos can be found at AMORQ

Well, these methods seem to work just fine. 

Been there, done that

no questions needed

spain

Saves money?

Superman, how I loved you.

     

strongest heroes

A question was asked about Comic Books recently: Which is/was your favorite comic series?  With all the Marvel Comic movies capturing audiences and making big bucks, that is a good question.

Peter Pan was my hero until I hit age ten.  “Superman” had been a favored television show, which I watched unfailingly.  He almost threw Peter Pan off the throne, until George Reeve’s sudden and questioned death.

Lois Lane

Peter Pan was back in my imagination, until something happened to me at age ten.  I did not know why the change happened (hormones), but Superman was in my head and kicked Peter Pan out.

That might also have something to do with the availability of Comic Books in the Benjamin Franklin 5-and-dime.  Superman was about hand level for me and cost about five cents.  Every first comic in the row had been thumbed to a fare-thee-well, with kid-sized finger prints covering in page.

Although I did not technically get an allowance (on a farm, kids were free labor), my mother did give me a quarter for my own shopping pleasure once a week at the big town fifteen miles from the farm.

At first five cents bought an un-thumbed copy (from the back) of comic book, Superman!!, then it moved up to 10 cents. That left me enough to buy fifteen cents worth of chocolate at the candy counter, which I finished on the way home.

SyFy convention

I successfully hid my stash of Superman comics from my brothers, since they were disrespectful swine who had already destroyed my first five comics.  I had quite a collection hidden away, until I returned from an hour long visit with a neighbor, and found my collection torn and shredded all over the yard.

My brothers waited for sister-explosion, but none came.  What was, was.

This was posted back in 2015, 2019, and 2020.

1958  My siblings: Robert, Don, and me; Mary 2 yr. old, and Bill 4 yrs. old. The boys grew up to be decent adults. My sister was always a marvelous person. 

Where is it now?

                          

My husband John is a brilliant man, one of those rocket-scientist types.  We talk about asteroids and volcanoes.  He will watch a DVD on math and calculus for fun.

But, God love him, he has that selective memory many smart men have.  They know about physics and the elements table, but cannot remember where they left the car keys or how to set the sprinkler system.  

Can anyone else say this:  The Things My Husband Has Lost!

While I was gone one time, he had to call an electrician.  He ‘helped’ the electrician as they searched for the cause of the problem, which was in my writing room.  To allow access to the outlets, John had cleared away all sorts of folders, binders, and assorted works-in-process.

Consequently, I have been searching for stuff for days.  Most important among those items was the Christmas cantata music our choir is practicing.  

 Man.  I tore apart every possible spot, every logical location that he might have placed my music tote bag. 

Huzzah.  That which was lost has been found.  John had placed the tote bag in with all the other reusable totes we keep, in a dark corner in the kitchen. 

His response when I found it?  “Really?!  In that corner?  That’s really funny!”

Funny?  Not funny.  However, John lives to teach another day. 

What about your spouse or partner?  Do you struggle with the urge to scream?

This is a repost from November 2011. It is one I could post while my hand heals. Please leave a comment,  I really need them.

left hand is better, have a new fiberglass cast, will get another one in two weeks, Do O/T.  I figure summer is the goal.

2009 award winning: The Book of Kells

 

This is an introduction to "Book of Kells", an animation 2009, "The world of the film pulses with the lush greenery of the island, populated by fairies, giants, magic and mystery." academy award nomination 2009

The above is will hopefully entice you to watch this movie. 

After all binge movies, this would be a break.

Will be seeing Dr. in another few weeks or so. Change cast, have O/T, and peer at xRays.  This has the light-at-the-end of a tunnel feeling. Hunt and peck is getting better. Pain level is better. Better. better.better

Tales for Ireland and Wales

 

Legends of the saints

Ireland is rich in its stories, art, history, mythology, and tales.  No typing for me, so this fairy tale is for you. It is longer than I would have liked. 

Up in the Black Mountains in Caermarthenshire lies the lake known as Lyn y Van Vach. To the margin of this lake the shepherd of Myddvai once led his lambs, and lay there whilst they sought pasture. 

Suddenly, from the dark waters of the lake, he saw three maidens rise. Shaking the bright drops from their hair and gliding to the shore, they wandered about amongst his flock. They had more than mortal beauty, and he was filled with love for her that came nearest to him. He offered her the bread he had with him, and she took it and tried it, but then sang to him:

 "Tis not easy to catch me",and then ran off laughing to the lake.

Next day he took with him bread not so well done, and watched for the maidens. When they came ashore he offered his bread as before, and the maiden tasted it and sang:

"Unbaked is thy bread, I will not have thee" and again disappeared in the waves.

A third time did the shepherd of Myddvai try to attract the maiden, and this time he offered her bread that he had found floating about near the shore. This pleased her, and she promised to become his wife if he were able to pick her out from among her sisters on the following day. 

When the time came the shepherd knew his love by the strap of her sandal. Then she told him she would be as good a wife to him as any earthly maiden could be unless he should strike her three times without cause. Of course he deemed that this could never be - and she, summoning from the lake three cows, two oxen, and a bull, as her marriage portion, was led homeward by him as his bride.

The years passed happily, and three children were born to the shepherd and the lake-maiden. But one day here were going to a christening, and she said to her husband it was far to walk, so he told her to go for the horses.

"I will," said she, "if you bring me my gloves which I've left in the house."

But when he came back with the gloves, he found she had not gone for the horses - so he tapped her lightly on the shoulder with the gloves, and said, "Go, go."

"That's one," said she.

Another time they were at a wedding, when suddenly the lake-maiden fell a-sobbing and a-weeping, amid the joy and mirth of all around her.

Her husband tapped her on the shoulder, and asked her, "Why do you weep?"

"Because they are entering into trouble - and trouble is upon you - for that is the second causeless blow you have given me. Be careful - the third is the last."

The husband was careful never to strike her again. But one day at a funeral she suddenly burst out into fits of laughter. Her husband forgot, and touched her rather roughly on the shoulder, saying, "Is this a time for laughter?"

"I laugh," she said, "because those that die go out of trouble, but your trouble has come. The last blow has been struck - our marriage is at an end, and so farewell." And with that she rose up and left the house and went to their home.

Then she, looking round upon her home, called to the cattle she had brought with her:

Brindle cow, white speckled, Spotted cow, bold freckled, Old white face, and gray Geringer, And the white bull from the king's coast, Grey ox, and black calf, All, all, follow me home,

Now the black calf had just been slaughtered, and was hanging on the hook - but it got off the hook alive and well and followed her - and the oxen, though they were ploughing, trailed the plough with them and did her bidding. 

So she fled to the lake again, they following her, and with them plunged into the dark waters.

And to this day is the furrow seen which the plough left as it was dragged across the mountains to the tarn.

(Only once did she come again, when her sons were grown to manhood, and then she gave them gifts of healing by which they won the name of Meddygon Myddvai, the physicians of Myddvai.)

Clonmel

pilgrimage

Myddvai actually is Welsh, but oh well. I enjoyed seeing how the tales and legends weave through the British Isles. However, here is St. Patrick's well in Clonmel, Ireland. Clonmel is a lovely place to visit. 

I am able to use most of left hand index and thumb, but in a limited fashion. I have a removable brace. just have to be careful. The right hand is threatening to get even. Baby steps.  

 

Dancing in the Rain

 

Hand  still wrapped, hunt and peck writing, but it is the month of the Irish. With Guinness and shepherd's pie on the line, St. Paddy's Day cannot be ignored.

My gr-daughters are Irish dancers. It is possible that our photos and dance recordings of the two of them could overwhelm you.  Instead, you will  see a world record of Irish dancers performing across the bridge, with the line wrapping down along the street.  

Riverdance on the banks of the Liffey

 Here is a write-up about that day:

"Riverdance World Record Longest Line 21st July 2013 - What a fantastic day on the banks of the River Liffey. A sincere thank you to all who made it happen - .. but most especially all the 1693 record breaking dancers from 44 countries whose enthusiasm and energy made the day and broke the record! Thank you!


Lead by Jean Butler and Padraic Moyles and over 115 Riverdance dancers in costume, the Riverdance line stretched for 1km along the north and south banks of the river Liffey, Dublin. The dancers were watched by an audience of thousands cheering them on as they danced for 5 continuous minutes in an unbroken line into the record books.

Over a 1000 of the dancers mastered the Riverdance step and these fantastic dancers danced Riverdance for 5 continuous minutes with the professional Riverdance dancers then after a short rest they joined the other dancers to dance for another 5 minutes to break the world record.

Our gr-daughters in 2018 Yosemite trip. 

You cannot picture how amazing that time was.

                         “Lá fhéile Pádraig sona dhuit!”

Law leh Paw-drig suna yee-uv

Happy St. Patrick's Day!

Back from Dr., had the 2nd cast removed. Incision looks awesome. Hand hurts, but is moving well.  Maybe I can start writing again. Hunt and Peck is exhausting.

So, all is going along. Please leave a comment. It makes my day much happier.

And may the strength of three be in your journey. Sláinte’.

 

Saint Patrick's Day: At King David’s Pub and Winery

(Scene opens in Heaven, at David's Pub.  Seamus and Patrick are sitting at the bar.  Patrick is asleep, with his head on the bar counter.)

Seamus (St. James):  Say, Paddy, now.  Wake up, you idjit. 

Padraig (St. Patrick)/Paddy:  Ah, Seamus.  Can ye not leave a good saint to a daecent sleep?

Seamus:  It’s yer people there, Paddy.  They’re at it again.  (Leaning over his pint, looking down on the velvet green)

Paddy:  Oh, Mother of God, is it that day already?

Maire (St. Mary):  Paddy, was it ye who called?  Oh.  (She looks down on Dublin.)  So.  Yer Irishmen are at the celebratin’ yer Holy Day.  The day ye up and died down there.

Paddy:  (Looking down) So ‘tis, Maire.  And would ye look—Chicago has dumped green into ta rivers again!  As if that meant a ting, Lord help us.

The Lord God: (enters with angels singing and clouds billowing)  Was it ye, Paddy, that called m’name?  (Seamus and Paddy vacate their pub stools immediately.)    David, here, be a good man, and pour me a glass of cider.

King David:  Aye, My Lord.  The best Yer Hands ever made, here Ye go.  Have at it. (David pushes the glass over to God, who has settled down on a stool.)

The Lord God:  So, Paddy, what’s troublin’ ye, up here in heaven? 

Paddy:  Oh, it’s the Irish people agin.  They’re after celebratin’ my holy day with all sorts of carryin’ ons.  And it bein’ Lent, ‘tis a sad ting ta behold. 

Chicago

The Lord God:  (quaffing a satisfying amount of apple cider) Well, ye know, Paddy,  People ha’ forgotten jest what I did for them, sendin’ ye to Ireland.  They were a terrible mean group, worshippin’ trees and such, ‘fore ye taught ‘em about the Trinity.

  

Seamus:  Yer right, My Lord.  An’ Paddy drove out them there serpents, and done all them miracles.  Ye did right good work, there.  (Seamus pats Paddy on the shoulder, who nods and perks up a bit.  Maire sits down next to The Lord God.)

The Lord God:    ‘Tis my desire that ye shake the Irish up a wee bit.  Paddy, ye go down to yer holy wells—there’s one down near Cork I’m partial to.  Stir the waters up a bit when there’s a group there.  And, Maire, go to some of yer holy grottoes, and send some tears down the cheeks of yer image.  That’ll make the Irish think a bit.  I bet ye’ll see more pious Irish at Mass come Good Friday.

Ballinaspittle, Cork Ireland

 Seamus:  I’ll go along with ‘em, My Lord, jest to keep ‘em company.  (The three saints exit.)

The Lord God:  (watches the saints depart, and laughs softly) Ah, there go some fine saints.  Glad I made ‘em.  (He leaves the pub in a cloud of glory, with angels singing.  David gathers up the glassware, and hums “When the saints go marching in…”  Scene ends.)

Hand hurts less.  Right hand is complaining. This is a repost from 2015. it was fun to do.  How to pronounce Toast below.. 

SLAHN'-CHUH

Cancel the Words from my Mouth, or Else

 worthwhile article

                                                                                      Forbes 

                          ( all info can be found below, click on highlighted beneath photo) 

 "Cancel culture" is a term batted around and was unknown until recent months. What does it mean? 

"There is no single accepted definition of cancel culture, but at its worst, it is about unaccountable groups successfully applying pressure to punish someone for perceived wrong opinions. The victim ends up losing their job or is significantly harmed in some way well beyond the discomfort of merely being disagreed with. Someone like J.K. Rowling isn’t really a victim of cancel culture—she’s too rich to be punished in any meaningful way and she doesn’t have the kind of job that one can be fired from."

New York Times columnist Charles Blow, tweets: “Once more THERE IS NO SUCH THING AS CANCEL CULTURE. There is free speech. You can say and do as pls, and others can choose never to deal this [sic] you, your company or your products EVER again. The rich and powerful are just upset that the masses can now organize their dissent.” The rest of his views can be accessed.

But this cancer has deepened. "The situation has deteriorated to the point that one no longer needs to say anything to be targeted by cancel culture. At Skidmore College in New York State, a professor is being boycotted for merely attending a pro-police “Back the Blue” rally."

Until my hand becomes a working entity, I have been researching, cutting and pasting. So this is an article for you to read. 

Please comment for me below. I really need some joy from thinking or even non-thinking  writers. Your words are ones I'd like to see!

Blow out the candle already

 

I need to eat something decadent, and it should be unique.  in fact, I absolutely deserve something beyond decadent. I think these could handle this assignment. But, how about these?

Enough of the sugar, flour, eggs, and oil.  Brownies will meet the ticket.

· 1 cup (2 sticks) unsalted butter

· 2 1/4 cups sugar

· 4 large eggs

· 1 1/4 cups Triple Cocoa Blend or Dutch-process cocoa

· 1 teaspoon salt

· 1 teaspoon baking powder

· 1 teaspoon espresso powder

· 1 tablespoon vanilla extract

· 1 1/2 cups all-purpose flour

· 2 cups chocolate chips

INSTRUCTIONS

1. Preheat the oven to 350°F. Lightly grease a 9" x 13" pan. Line with parchment paper, optional.

2. In a saucepan, melt the butter over medium heat. Stir in the sugar and cook until mixture is hot (about 110°F to 120°F), but not bubbling.

3. In a large mixing bowl, whisk eggs, cocoa, salt, baking powder, espresso powder, and vanilla until smooth. Add the hot butter/sugar mixture and stir until smooth. Add the flour and stir until smooth.

4. Let the batter cool in the bowl for 20 minutes then stir in the chips. Spread batter into prepared pan.

5. Bake for about 30 minutes, until the brownie edges are set and a cake tester inserted into the center comes out with just a few moist crumbs clinging to it. Remove them from oven and cool completely on a rack before cutting. 

Or, if you are like my 15 year old, use a spoon while the brownies are still on the warm side. Don't be ashamed. You deserve it.

Have a new cast on!  can one finger type, but it is exhausting.

The Need for Spell Check, as relayed by unknown postulant

     

                                                               

A young monk arrives at the monastery. He is assigned to helping the other monks in copying the old canons and laws by hand.

He notices, however, that all of the monks are copying from copies, not from the original manuscript. 

So, the new monk goes to the head abbot to question this, pointing out that if someone made even a small error in the first copy, it would never be picked up! In fact, that error would be continued in all of the subsequent copies.

The head monk, says. "We have been copying from the copies for centuries, but you make a good point, my son."

He goes down into the dark caves underneath the monastery where the original manuscripts are held as archives in a locked vault that hasn't been opened for hundreds of years. Hours go by and nobody sees the old abbot.

So, the young monk gets worried and goes down to look for him. He sees him banging his head against the wall and wailing. "We missed the 'R' ! We missed the 'R'."

His forehead is all bloody and bruised and he is crying uncontrollably.

The young monk asks the old abbot. "What's wrong, Father?"

With a choking voice, the old abbot replies. "The word was... CELEBRATE!”

**This means no disrespect to Catholics or any doctrines.**