a simple yarn

Robert Downey, Jr.  Good Hollywood comeback.
Lance Armstrong.  Brave cycling comeback.
Britney Spears.  Amazingly enough, successful music comeback.

But not all comebacks are good.  Like trying to resurrect my lovely little blog from Dublin days.  I confess I’m not feeling the love nor the inspiration.  Shoulda left it on a high note and made an elegant exit.  Ah no, I have to trip and stumble, bumbling in and out of blogdom.  Graceful, I am not.

But I guess I had to make sure that the we’d done everything  before pulling the plug.  Limiting myself to 50 words…what was I thinking?  Recent photos…pegging the scale on the crap-o-meter!  It all seemed gimmicky, kinda like patterned leggings or the entire fashion decade of the 80s.  Feeling a bit silly and anticlimactic, it’s good though, to end on yet another high point.

You see, Norma came to town, bringing with her red scarves for the Orphan Foundation of America.  Along with Lynn and Tracey, we trotted along to Mount Vernon for a bit of touring and red scarf photo ops.

Apologies, Dishing-The-Gossip-Diversion Ahead:
If you think Norma is a bit of a whirlwind in her blog, she’s a veritable cyclone in person…in the good sense of whirl-wind-i-ness, mind you.

(Okay, her face isn’t that dark.  Another crappy photo, intermixed with periods of ‘cam-nesia,’ where I forget to pull it out altogether. )

Needless to say, it was a lovely excursion, full of laughter and over all too soon.

Kinda like this post.

And this blog.

This is the end.

I really mean it this time.

Thanks for reading it over the years.

Gonna go now.

Time to hit ‘publish’.

As Barbie said at the end of Toy Story 2…

Buh by…

Bye by…

By-by…

Goodbye…

(Still can’t seem to manage a graceful exit.)

Trying to fit family-of-four-communication-hub into pre-purchased bulletin-cum-dry erase board isn’t working.  Alex likes his new chalkboard.  Hmm…I’ve still got paint…

Customized with…

With Mount Vernon blacksmith-made hook…

With a handy used-to-be-curtain-hook chalk holder…

Love it!

If current communication is twittered down to 140 characters, could I manage to blog in a meaningful way?  Hm, I sense a challenge coming on…

What a great time it’s been rambling through the archives these last few weeks…

But, much like viewing an old family slide show or flipping through scrapbooks and albums, most of it might lull you into a foggy stupor.  Yeah, apologies for that.  Here’s the last category…

Of all the things I’ve tossed into the ‘kitchen sink,’ one of the most memorable was learning that I had won an Irish Blog Award. Totally unexpected.  So very much appreciated.  It just doesn’t get any better than that…

Except perhaps when I see sights like this.

Two children in total cooperation without a bickering complaint on their tongues.  Wow, that’s an award I’d like to keep…and it doesn’t require dusting!    Think I might need to plaster this on the refrigerator, you know, just as a subtle reminder…

…being a one-trick-pony?

The loom is empty.
The needles are motionless.
The blog is unattended.
Fancast goes unwatched.
The reading pile is growing.
It’s ‘all-about-George-Washington-all-the-time’ these days.
What have I done?
It’s the first part-time job where I have full-time homework.
Certainly, not required by the supervisory-powers-that-be, but more an attempt at self-preservation against the onslaught of ‘not-on-the-script’ questions.

‘So what did Martha’s first husband die of?’
‘What components were the exterior paints made of?’
‘What is the Washington connection to Robert E. Lee?’

Legitimate questions to which I long to shout…
‘How should I know, ya loon?!?…I’ve been in Ireland for the last 6 years!’

Thinking that response would be frowned upon, I thus spend my not-so-spare-time poring over catalogs and biographies and inventories and narratives and articles, all arming me with historical factoids to stave off dreaded interpreter ignorance.

There will come a time, though, when the loom will be dressed once again.
And my sister’s birthday slippers will be knit.
And I’ll catch up on my blog reading.
And there’ll be an evening with Fancast.
And those books will all be read.
It’s just not that time right now.

What’s wrong with this picture?

So, is that how Americans view this quintessentially Irish holiday?  Has it come down to green beer and caricatured leprechauns?
What a load of rubbish.

Here are some alternative suggestions for today…
Study the life of St. Patrick.
Read a poem by Seamus Heaney.
Listen to a U2 tune.
Peruse the National Gallery of Ireland online.
Find a Gaelic football or hurling match on the internet.
Read a play by Oscar Wilde.
Have some Irish brown bread with soup.
Try a pint of non-green Guinness.

Lá Fhéile Pádraig Sona! (Happy St. Patrick’s Day!)

Because sometimes you need a little warning.

Securing a driver’s license in Ireland was arduous.
Okay, that’s an understatement.
Acclimating to the other side of the road.
Oh, and getting in on the other side of the car.
And forgetting which side the rearview mirror was on.
And shifting with the other hand.
Thank goodness I’m left-handed.

But the process required passing another theory test.
And at least 6 driving lessons.
Because driving, I believe, is a cultural thing.
And though I had been driving since I was 16 in the US.
It made absolutely no difference in Dublin.
It’s a whole other ballgame.
Especially with roundabouts.
But I had plenty of time to practice.
Because the waiting time for the driving portion was at least 12 months.
More like 18, in those days.

But learning drivers must plaster a big, fat, red ‘L’ sticker on their car.
A warning to everyone else that a newbie driver is in front of them.
Or behind them, as the case may be.
Of course I didn’t use L-plates.
Reverting to the idea that I already had a driver’s license.
Which technically, was within the bounds of the law.
I couldn’t bring myself to plaster my car with a sticker that screamed…
‘Hey keep your distance…I’m a dolt!’

But I’m re-thinking the L-plate option.
No, not about driving.
I’ve passed my historical interpretation test.

Today is my first day interpreting solo, as it were.
And I’m feeling like a dolt.
So perhaps it would be good to have a warning to others.
You know, just in case.

…and a bit of a muddle.

This scene may not appear dire to you, barely jumbled for some, but those who know me understand organization is a hobby.  Well, more like a passion.  Okay, perhaps I’m a bit zealous.  Bordering on fervent.  With a wee bit of fanaticism thrown in.  Hey, it’s how I’m wired and if my space is jumbled in the least bit, so is my head!

So what does this picture tell me?

1. That the IRS needs to actually see the tax return before forking over any sort of refund.
2. That flower bulbs don’t really have tiny little shovels to burrow themselves in the ground.
3. That morning coffee doesn’t taste nearly as good in a travel mug.
4. That the stack of Mount Vernon reading material isn’t going down by merely looking at the pile.
5. And that I’d better pass my ‘can you interpret this historical space’ test today so I can opt out of training the rest of the week and tidy this space.

So tell me, what do your surroundings say about you?

but it comes a close second, don’tcha think?

So, as Hollywood gathers to present their awards, the family gathered in our living room to vote for our favorite panda and prairie dog captions.  It took 2 elimination rounds before the final hand-raising voting round for each photo.

The kids erupted into regular giggles, although we occasionally had to explain a few things…like who Rodney Dangerfield was and why it’s significant when someone’s water breaks.  Yup……….anyway, thanks to all for making our Sunday afternoon an enjoyable one!

Panda

‘The log is mine, alllll mine.  I’m gonna hug it and squeeze it and call it george.’

Submitted by Jiva
Cuz gee, we’re suckers for Looney Tunes.

Panda Honorable Mention For Use Of The Word ‘Schlump’
‘Same old schedule:  10AM:  look perky, entertain the visitors.  12 Noon:  schlump fashionably over the same old tree.  4 PM:  sleep.  Repeat tomorrow.’
Submited by knnuki

Prairie Dog

‘I was born goofy-looking!  What’s your excuse?’

Submitted by JulieT
Short, to the point and full of elementary-schooled-aged humor.

Congratulations to the winners and really, thanks again to everyone for sharing their wit!

Now what about the prizes?

The family is…

Apologies:  A Quick European vs. American Grammatical Diversion
I was going to write ‘The family is getting ready to look at all the witty captions left by clever readers.’  And then a residual echo of living of Ireland stormed through my brain in thinking it more appropriate to say ‘The family are getting ready to…’

So which is it?  Is it a universally accepted grammatical law?  Or is it cultural?  Hmmm….

Anyway, the family is/are getting ready to look at all the witty captions left by clever readers.  Sunday’s the day…and the deadline for entries.  The winning entry for each photo will receive a 100gram skein of Irish Kilcarra yarn and a felted coaster.  But then I thought…what if the winner isn’t a knitter…doesn’t know a knitter…doesn’t care about knitting?  Gasp.

Undyed Blue Faced Leister, Buttery Yellow, Tomato Red, Teal, Apple Green, Charcoal Grey or Berry Burgundy (in photo below)

So, to be totally fair, I’m going to open the prize chest and say that the winning entry for each photo will receive a felted coaster AND a choice of one of the following…either 100gram skein of Irish Kilcarra yarn (I’ve tossed a scrumptious skein of soft Blue Faced Leister in the mix too!) OR a handknit Tudora neckwarmer listed in the sidebar Etsy shop.

Whew, this contest stuff is demanding…and we haven’t even begun voting yet!

Unless you count the 494th post as something to celebrate…

So what d’ya do when:
a) the family goes to the National Zoo for the first time and
b) Husband-Will takes a few snaps and
c) the results absolutely crack me up

You have a ‘caption contest,’ of course!

So consider this to be:
a) a shameless reason for posting these pics cuz
b) I belly-laugh out loud each time I see them and
c) there’s no accounting for taste

Rules are simple.  Leave a comment with a funny caption for one or both of the photos.  Please preface your caption with either ‘PANDA’ or ‘PRAIRIE DOG’ so we know which photo the caption is for.  We’ll be accepting captions through the week until 8:00am (EST) on Sunday morning, 22 February.  Then the family—Husband-Will, the Kiddies and I—will spend our Sunday afternoon laughing and then voting on the best caption for each photo.  Our Kiddies are aged 12 and 9, so let’s keep the humor ‘G’ or ‘PG’.

Warning:  Additional Humor Disclaimer Ahead
a) humor is a rather subjective thing and
b) our family can have a goofy sense of it and
c) again, there’s no accounting for taste

The results will be posted on Monday, 23 February and each winner will receive a 100gram skein of Irish Kilcarra wool—photo of color choices to be posted later, and a handknit/handfelted/handsewn wool coil coaster to slip under his/her favorite beverage.

Right so, here are the photos… (I can’t wait until Sunday!)

PANDA (and that IS his back paw to the left)

PRAIRIE DOG

18th Century ‘Hottie’

Warning:  President’s Day Disclaimer
Yep, I know today is President’s Day in the US.  And yep, I know Martha wasn’t a president of the US.  But today it’s about the shoes and I just don’t think George’s silver-buckled, black leather pumps can compete, okay?

C’mon really, would I want the physique of my retirement years to dictate the solitary image people had of me?  Ack, no!  Poor Martha Washington…frankly, she’s had a bad rap.  Stuffy.  Dowdy.  Frumpy.  All based upon images from her latter years.  But, historians are attempting to change that and forensic anthropologists have age-regressed her portrait, which reveals a rather stylish woman.  A woman who, on her wedding day, wore a golden damask gown, deeply trimmed in lace with dark purple silk high heels studded with silver sequins.  That’s moxie!

They haven’t been seen in decades and won’t be seen again for years, but Martha’s shoes are on display at Mount Vernon to celebrate the 250th anniversary of her wedding day.  How could I not go and see the footwear of this plucky woman?  Pimp those heels, baby!