This 'n That

There's no real point to this post today. Just some odds and ends that have been floating around in my head. First, a short book review of Deadly Gift by Heather Graham. I've read a couple of her books before; they're light reads and usuallly have a slight tinge of the supernatural. This one didn't grab my interest right away, so I skipped to the last chapter to get a sense of what was going to happen (a bad habit of mine). Well the protagonist was a banshee. According to the book, banshees are ghosts who come to someone (of Irish descent, or course) to help them ease into death. They can also be "assigned" to help prevent an early, unscheduled death. Well that sent me back to the beginning of the book and although the mystery wasn't too deep, I did revel in the daydream of having my Irish forebears waiting for me on the other side and of being whisked away in a black coach upon my death. Of course I saw none of this when I Googled banshee, but I don't care; I choose to believe it.

I have turned the heel on my sock and it's going well. I think it's going to be way too big, but that's okay too. I'll do the second sock and hold them up with rubber bands if I have to. My friend Alicia told me about a new yarn shop in San Clemente so I went to visit on my lunch hour. it's very small and the yarns are expensive, but they have workshops and I think I'll go back to find out about them.

My brother Scott has some time to kill since he broke his wrist and will be off work for a while, so he started back in on his genealogy. I really envy his ability to sniff out all the little details that are near and dear to a genealogist's heart.

Like I said, odds and ends. I've been working tons of extra hours so my brain's a little fried.

The Perfect Pint of Guinness

I will admit that Guinness is an acquired taste, one that I acquired relatively late in life. My first pub visits involved so-so glasses of wine with an occasional wimpy "glass" of Guinness, just to be polite. But as my pub experiences grew, so did my appreciation of the "mother's milk" of Ireland.

One perfect pint was drunk in The Plough, across the street from the Abbey Theatre in Dublin, listening to the crowd sing along to "Song for Ireland."

Another perfect pint was drunk in a restaurant with a group of friends we had just met that day, eating, laughing, and finally becoming silent as one of our party told a story.

The night we went to Matt Malloy's in Westport was also a night of the perfect pint; we sat with a couple down from Derry, Anne Marie and her cousin Tom. We laughed and drank; Anne Marie told our fortunes. When we followed them out the door at the end of that evening, they had disappeared just as good leprechauns should do.

A rainy night in Ballyvaughan saw our family in O'Neill's, waiting for our friends Ron and Lisa to arrive. Our Becky started chatting up the locals, making the rounds with her digital camera. The pictures from that night are filled with laughter, delight and love.

The perfect pint might come from a bottle on a hot afternoon or from a tap in our own "local," but the truth is, what makes it perfect is the place and people surrounding it.

Irish Memories

By no stretch of the imagination could you call me a true world traveler. Since my first trip to Ireland in 2000, my only overseas destination has been the Emerald Isle (and I've made four more visits). There are other places I'd like to visit, but I'm more likely to get there if Dublin or Shannon Airport is a stop on the itinerary. I have often said that it is only in Ireland that I feel like my real self.

The other day, I was talking to a patron in the library who read two books on my recommendation: Round Ireland With a Fridge (Tony Hawks) and Pint-Sized Ireland (Evan McHugh). Her comment was that she found the first one funny, but wasn't too sure about the second; it seemed like they were so much alike. This caused me to think about why I liked them both so much. The bottom line was that each spoke to me by evoking memories of a different kind. The first book reminded me of our encounters with people in Ireland. Just as the author found that news of his journey traveled ahead of him. It seemed that everywhere he turned, there were people who were enjoying the novelty of his challenge and were eager to help him along, be a part of it.

Two memories that come to my mind come from two separate trips. During our first trip, we went to the town from which my forebears came (Castlelyons, County Cork). In the middle of the town were the remains of a castle, but no matter how we tried, we couldn't find a way to get near it. At last we went to the office of a truck repair yard adjacent to the castle - we could see a gate from their yard into the field where we wanted to go. Well, the men in the office were immediately intrigued - of course we could go through (but why did we want to?). We had famiy nearby? Out came the phone book to see if we recognized any names, they gave us directions to the "old" cemetery. These people could not have been more interested or forthcoming with advice. It was a very satisfying acceptance.

The second memory is of the beginning of a very special friendship. On our second trip, Jim sent out a general e-mail to his Sprite/Bugeye group on the Internet outlining our plans to be in Ireland. One of his Internet "buddies" got in touch and arranged to meet us one night for dinner. Ron and his family drove half the length of the country to meet us that night; they arranged a B&B for us, then entertained us with dinner and a visit to a nearby pub, owned by family. It was one of the most wonderful evenings we've ever had, arranged by almost complete strangers. Our friendship with Ron continues and it all started because he put himself out to make us feel welcome.

It didn't surprise me at all to read about complete strangers going out of their way to help Tony Hawks - the strange guy who traveled Ireland accompanied by a refrigerator; I'd say it was right up their alley and I wouldn't have expected any less.

I'll write later about the perfect pint of Guinness.

Inauguration Day, Red Sock

I have thoroughly enjoyed watching the inauguration festivities today. It was so uplifting to see the hope and renewed pride that was evident in the faces of so many people. Barack Obama has a huge job ahead of him; no man may be capable of succeeding what he must try. But I think he'll give it his best and that the atmosphere of change that surrounds him will be a great boost to our country.

And now on to the important stuff - I've knitted about three inches on my first sock. If I hadn't left the camera at Mom's, I'd post a picture just to remind myself of the euphoria I'm feeling over this sock. I'm knitting on size 8 needles and the yarn is a red Wool-Ease with flecks of color, kind of tweedy. I hope I can do this; I'm sure enjoying the trying!

Book Review - The Private Patient

I always look forward to a new P.D. James book, and I wasn't disappointed with this one. The story was wonderfully complex, the characters beautifully delineated, the conclusion satisfactory. Thinking about the evolution of this series, however, it seems like the reader is less privy to the character of Dalgliesh as more and more of the investigations are done by his subordinates. I suppose it's a natural progression, but I like Dalgliesh so much and I miss him.

Future Teacher of America

Mackenzie has been making quite a mess in the family room over the last few days, and yesterday I finally had the time to watch was she was doing. As evident in the picture, she's reading to her students. I really got the message when she noticed that I was reading and told me that she "wanted the book closed." It was time for me to pay attention.
Mackenzie has grown up so quickly in the last few months. I guess being almost three and going to preschool will do it. She has such a strong, independent personality; it's often very amusing to just sit back and watcher her interact with her world.

Book Review

I'm Looking Through You by Jennifer Finney Boylan

I found this book when I was looking for books about hauntings. When I read the dust cover, I wasn't sure - it's a memoir by a woman who once was a man, and the man lived in the haunted house from the time he was a boy. I found it

was really interesting. The book moves back in forth from the past to the present, in many cases describing the same event from both perspectives. The transsexual theme was present throughout, but was presented in such a way as the reader felt comfortable with the author in either case.

Brothers

The sad events of the last month+ have caused me to think a lot about my family. Particularly about the family into which I was born. Particularly about the brothers with which I was blessed (or cursed). The three of us experienced various degrees of closeness while we grew up. Poor Scott came along seven years after Mike and I had "bonded," and we didn't make it easy for him to catch up. We have created and shared family jokes. I think we all have a fondness for old family traditions. Mike and Scott share a passion for music and a talent for playing it. Scott has become the family storyteller, and he does it with such wit and accuracy that the rest of us can never argue about how it really was. I fear that I am the "manager" in the crowd, always the bossy big sister.

Now we have now been scattered nearly across the United States, so our times together are few and far between. We exchange weekly e-mails to let each other know what's going on. We exchange cards at birthdays and presents at Christmas. Four years ago we shared (along with our mom and spouses) a magical vacation. And now we share sorrow at the loss of Scott's beloved.

When times have been tough in my own household, both brothers have called or emailed to give me a chance to share. They both start their phone calls the same way: Hey, Kath. How's it going? And they really want to know.

Scott, we love you and will be here to shoulder whatever we can.

Our Beloved Becky

Our Becky has gone to be with the Lord. I have never known another with such a capacity for joy. She was the light of my brother's life and will be sorely missed by all. Our only comfort is in knowing that she waits for us.

I pray for God's comfort for my brother and the rest of Becky's family.

Icicles

I wish my digital camera was working, because I'd love to include a picture of our fountain this morning. The water in the bottom basin had frozen into a little icy pond and there were icicles hanging from the upper bowl. Here in Southern California. It was enough of an event that Jim called me out of bed to see it. The temperature in the backyard (according to John Deere) was 23 degrees at 7:30 a.m.

It was back to work today. Mother has gone to Ohio to be with my brother. Her email says my sister-in-law might be slightly better. We'll just keep praying.

With my Christmas knitting completed, I've started a baby sweater done in a basketweave pattern (a free pattern from the Internet). I'm using a bright yellow yarn from the stash my mother passed on to me. It's a Bernat yarn from many years ago. It's acrylic, but it's soft, pretty and free. I still have the sleeves to finish on my Minimalist Cardigan, but they're about a third of the way done. I'm knitting them both at the same time with the hope that I'll feel like I'm making quicker progress.

Finished both of my current books and am starting I'm Looking Through You by Jennifer Boylan. Death Walked In was okay, but it seemed to drag to its conclusion. I slipped in another book, Knitting, without even listing it. I liked the way the characters interacted in that one, but there were a couple of points I wanted straightened out: who was the hospital cleaner and who took Maggie's bags? Oh, well.

Sunday

The news about my sister-in-law is not encouraging. My mother is flying to be with my brother as things resolve themselves and I'm helpless here wanting to do so much more.

So we needed to get out of the house. The whole gang went to the swap meet to spend a little money. Came home with "Sham-Wows" and got to try them out on a very dirty outdoor table. We also came home with a bag of kettle corn and the kids got to play on giant slides. Then I trimmed roses while the rest of them played rowdy ball games in the back yard. Lots of running and laughing. All in all, it could have been a much worse day. Tomorrow we're all back to our normal routines, which should make the days easier.

I continue to pray.

Beginnings

I'm ready to put New Year's celebrations behind and begin the new year in earnest. Not that our celebrations weren't fun. New Year's Eve was spent at home with friends and neighbors and New Year's night was spent with enjoying fine wine and good company with friends in Pasadena. But now it's time to move forward.

My sister-in-law has been in the hospital since Christmas night. It's hard to be so far away from my brother as he waits and hopes she'll get better. Two emails a day tell us whether or not there's been any progress and he is becoming discouraged. She is still a young woman and I can't help but feel that every day that she does not get worse brings her closer to being well, and I pray I'm right.

Last night was the first night we were able to stay away from home by ourselves since almost two years ago when Rosanne and her babies came back to us. It wasn't easy to leave, and things didn't go perfectly, but they managed without us and it felt so good to be away. It was a huge step!!

This evening the little ones are finally asleep and I'm going to knit and watch "The Duchess," all by myself. What luxury! Tomorrow begins the purging of household messes that I always feel compelled to start after Christmas. A good way to start the year.

Happy New Year!!

I have pointedly tried to avoid making new year's resolutions over the past few years, but this will be a year of change. There are a lot of factors that make the time ripe, and I firmly believe that with some organization and a tool to keep my thoughts on track, I can turn this into a very productive year.

Circumstances of the last couple of years have left me unbalanced and unfocussed. It's time to remember who I am and what is really important to me. Trying to fill the needs of so many around me has left me empty. I know I have no one but myself to blame, but that means that am also responsible for the changes to be made.

There are so many areas where I could begin, but the most important will be the expression of my faith. My church feels far away. It's too much of an effort for me to get out of the house on Sunday morning. And yet in my heart I'm depending on the Lord's plan and his help in getting me through my days. And so my first resolution is to build that relationship I have with Him, knowing that his hand will make the rest of my changes easier. I can make this change by devoting time for prayer, every day. There are people I need to pray for, every day. And a prayer journal will help a lot, if I can just make myself take time for it. So here it is, my commitment to time spent every day.