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Profile Information

Gender: Female
Home country: US
Current location: retired to MidWest
Member since: Mon Feb 18, 2013, 09:15 PM
Number of posts: 6,151

About Me

Still an ardent Irish-American Catholic damnYankee Yellow Dog Democrat socialist after all these years. (cue Simon music) Army brat and wife for many years, now have been on the loose far longer than I was married. After my two red chows died, I took in a mini-beagle cross that I named Molly Maguire, thinking she might need a good Irish name like my original real one. Later she got a baby sister, a smooth-coat JRT I named Brigid after the greatest of the ancient Celtic goddesses. My great-grandfather and his son fought for Michael Collins and barely made it out of Ireland one step ahead of John Bull. They slipped over to Wales for new identities and then forward to the States for a fresh start. That makes me second generation of illegal but certainly justified immigrants. There are precious few people to whose defense I fly immediately, but the list includes Hillary Clinton, President Barack Obama even when I disagree with him - it happens! - and living Irish patriots Gerry Adams and Martin \\\'Mind Your Kneecaps\\\' McGuiness. I pray earnestly for a united and free Ireland rescued from all official British occupation, with every square inch of alleged \\\'ancestral lands\\\' now held immorally and illegally by the invaders returned to the rightful owners. Irish-only rule for Ireland. No foreign masters anymore! I find it passing strange when Brits chide ME about \'interfering\' in Irish politics!

Journal Archives

As a former lit major and the daughter of a lit professor,

I have issues with the 'close reading' technique. Omitting context in any discipline is a tragedy and a farce.

On edit, I should add that I don't give a rat's patootie how trendy a method might be. Look how well new math and whole language turned out!

Well, it's definitely a 3-dog night and I only have 2; small/medium at that.

But we'll manage!

I got new batteries for my mechanical dog that barks and spins around; a light on his beanie head flashes and he sings like Barney. It makes Brigid - the JRT - so mad that she barks savagely, so I only turn on Barfy twice a day.

Hope you and your family have a lovely Thanksgiving.

Important, timely reminder. Thanks.

No man could walk in those heels and give birth to babies.

Sounds like a good idea as long as they let me be cremated. I used to love working hospice.

Done, even though there'll probably be one in my email by tonight.

Sometimes when there are multiples, my evil twin sister signs one.

When I lived in NYC 1969-70, the first survival skill I learned about the subway

Was to never stand at the edge of the platform. If anyone fell or got pushed off, those people were it. On the second row you still weren't entirely safe. Third row was ideal because they never got pushed off and always managed to get on their train even during rush hour. Fourth row might have to wait for the next one. There's something creepy about using fellow humans as shields.

My video player's not working, so I don't know about that guy.

But I once nursed the father of the archeologist widely considered the inspiration for the fictional Indiana Jones. Robin somebodyorother. Got to meet him, and he was very nice. Suspected of being involved with the CIA.

Here among MidWest fundies the female submission ideal still reigns. I can't remember which

denomination, but one a few years ago stopped letting female Sunday School teachers have young male students, since women supposedly are not to teach men. One reason I loved Mother Theresa was because she told the Pope to his face that women should be allowed to be priests, and what's more we'd be better at it than men. I've lived to see many other 'impossibilities'. Maybe I'll get to see that too before I check out.

We should dip to 7 tonight. As cold out there as a TP 'heart'

The JRT is slick as a billiard ball so she doesn't like to stay out long at a time. An hour or so in, then out 5 minutes and thankfully she barks at the door to remind me to let her back in. I figure she's the best judge of how much cold she can take.

Since the UMC held a community Thanksgiving dinner tonight, I stepped almost next door for dinner. Well, I helped cook it, went over at 11 this morning to play galley slave. Luckily I got to whip potatoes with the brand new professional stand mixer. On high speed I couldn't hear the mostly friendly arguing that went on about the kitchen. It was cold walking over there, cold coming back, and neither was comparable to the temps going and coming tonight. Small price to pay for such a nice dinner, though. A little elbow grease and a 3-block round trip walk twice.

I enjoyed eating deliberately, watching people mill around, and listening to the table talk. It felt weird when one person pointed me out as the letter writer in this week's paper. Everyone seemed to have something to say about letter and writer, but none of it directly to me when I was sitting right there at the same table, smiling my best 'I don't bite' grin. Nothing they said was mean, probably not intentionally rude, and it only amused me; just the way a lot of people are around here. Raised in a barn.

Anyway, there's a big bookcase in the social hall and I found a recent addition, a 1968 book on MLK, so I scooped that up and took it home with me to re-read. I like reading the best books over again a decade or several later, knowing I'll have a different perspective.

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