Serindipitous Noises #C4N79009!

Interesting conversation I overheard between a 6yr old Daughter & her Father over the model on the box:

Daughter: Deddy, he looks like he’s constipated.

Father: I think you mean he looks like he’s concentrating.

Daughter: So are you concentrating when you can’t poop?

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Oh, She’ll Figure it out

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Needless to say I did not sleep well…

2 long days of anger, frustration, and utter disappointment. Managed to resolve a couple of issues and was looking forward to a proposition of solace. But the proposition bailed, and I went to sleep once again angry, frustrated, and utterly disappointed. I went to sleep in a place I did not want to be.

I know I was dreaming, but don’t remember the first 2. Just that I woke up screaming twice. The first time, I screamed “GEEEEEET OOOOUUUUUT!”, the second “STOOOOOP!”

…The 3rd one I remember to, to well…

I was bound, gagged and shackled, then beaten by every person I knew that I let within 2 steps of me. I was dragged by a chain around my neck to a cave with a shallow pit. My best friend said to me; “You don’t understand what really matters. I only want you to be happy.” Then proceeded to throw me into the pit in the cave. My boyfriend looks over the edge and says that he’s going to chill out on YouTube. People  start gathering in front of the cave. “Oh, she’ll figure it out.”  They tell each other; “So just push the button” …

There was and explosion and the walls cave in …

I woke up kicking and punching the walls of my room …

Left Over Garden

 

I’m always amazed how plants will always find a way to grow. We hack, rip, and litterally eat them alive. Spray them with herbicides, and pave over them. Still they will find a way. I want to go on and on about all that we can learn from plants’ determination to grow, but I wouldn’t be able to spout out anything so deep and life changing that you couldn’t figure it out for yourself.

Now I usually bury my leftovers in a designated compost area in my back garden. That’s a back yard to all my State Side buddies. Every year I get some very interesting things growing. Strange looking yellow cucumber with black seeds, or wonky looking pumpkins … well, I say pumpkins … Almost always get some kind of cross breed potatoes…

But I’ve been lazy for the past several months, and have just dumped the leftover bits and pieces without burying them. … OK, that’s a lie. I’ve been so lazy about it, that it’s my Honey Man Guy that’s been deposing of it. Well, I had a little time the other day and went out to dump the left over bits and pieces and look what I found! 2 cabbages and stalks of celery that refuse to die!

 

UPDATE Monday 23 April 2018:

One of the cabbages have taken root and turning into a tree! 😄

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My 3rd New Years Resolution 2018 Sucks

I did it again… I made another stupid New Years Resolution to write a blog post once a week and so far I’ve utterly failed. It’s the same tired old story. Life, not enough time, work, brain fog, blah, blah, blah… Now there is a new excuse. I’ve lost it. Not that I ever had it. My outlook and perspective is jaded. My flow altered. My sense of creativity is shot and at best plagiarised.

I’ve gone through my blog posts and most of them are about how I failed at New Years Resolutions. And making New Years Resolutions. Why I made this one again? I don’t know!!! It sucks! I’ve become a ranting over middle aged woman! I have joined the club! Meaning that anything that I write will be no different than any other over middle aged ranting woman…

I’m not able to write anything unique or special. All my trials in life are no more interesting than anybody else.  I’m not computer/internet savoy to navigate through all this Word Press malarkey. I can’t afford upgrades. I don’t have a lot of followers. And many of my “friends” are in their own right writers and story tellers, and by some social construct, that makes them better and their writing more interesting than anything that I can produce… So Fuck It…

I’ll just write. I’ll just write whatever, because it isn’t going to make much of a difference to anyone. I don’t have it in me to reek havoc. So no worries on the accidental bits of enlightenment, inspiration or spiral down evoked in anybody who just might take a gander. Again, I’m just another tired, ranting over middle aged  woman. I’ll do what I know. I’ll rant. And then, like the one monkey out of a million monkeys typing at typewriters… computers… I just might write, rant, something that is worth a read.

3 Years Ago Today, Which Is The 15 March 2018…

Beware the Ides of March. 3 Years ago I ignored that warning & decided to go hiking. And it was there, on the Knockmealdowns Mountains, that I met my undoing – The one and only Mr. Richard Leahy! Sure, I posted something like this last year. But I don’t care!… I will forget birthdays and anniversaries, I will most certainly forget your name and call you something else entirely, But I will always remember this day! Not because it seems so iconic to find each other on mountain tops, or because I was resigned to; ” that it won’t happen to me”, then went all Bambi and got “Twitterpated”. I will remember it because for better or worse, or somewhere in between, my life changed!

Now I have to Thank a couple of people, because if it weren’t for them, we might not have met. Thanks John! You’re the reason I and looked back. You were being so kind, holding down the barbed wire so we all could climb over. Since I thought I was the last person I assumed you’d walk with me at least for a bit before catching up with the rest. So when you went missing, I looked back and there he was!

I also have to Thank Brad. After the hike Richard asked to exchange email addresses. A bit strange, considering we were and still in the Age of Facebook. I really did not know what to do. Do I email him right away, do I wait a couple of weeks? Every scenario that you’ve seen in a movie, TV, YouTube & any other social media, between my ears. In my desperation, I emailed Brad and asked what I should do! I KNOW! a middle aged woman asking for advice on contacting a guy I like. Seriously, in this area of life, there isn’t much difference between 13 and 40 something or other. Anyway, I asked Brad and he said YES! email him back! Email him back right away! And I did! Some of the best advice I ever had! And there you have it! 5 months & 5 days later we were official!

Richard, another reason why I will always remember when we met is because regardless of how you feel about me, I LOVE YOU! Sweet & simple.

Twitterpated

Another Oopes…

Fragmentarily speaking, and yes I meant to say it in that way, I made a mistake this morning. Obviously the world has not ended and as far as I know, although you might not be able to see it depending on where you are & what the weather is like, the sun will set this evening and again I’m pretty sure that it will rise again tomorrow. So not the biggest of mistakes that one can make. And NO! I didn’t kill any body! If I do it would be intentional and no one would be the wiser, because there is absolutely no one on my hit list. It was a mistake that I made. I will take full responsibility for the mistake and understand that there will be repercussions. Probably in the form of sarcastic remarks in a public setting or flaming poo at the front door. And it will be held against me, or hanging over me, or under foot, in my side in the form of a thorn, up my butt or under my pillow for certain amount of time. Which begs the obvious question; ‘Where do I draw the line?’ …cookie-crumbs1

Today I quit…

I’ve been struggling with the Ballyphehane Bulletin & Community Noise ….

The Ballyphehane Bulletin was a monthly newsletter that I wrote and published for 2 years. To skim over the politics the funding got cut for what I feel are ridiculous reasons. That was 2 years ago. I thought that I would be able to resurrect it through Facebook. And for 2 years I’ve beating my head against the wall with it. It didn’t help that my commitments moved else where, so I wasn’t as much a part of the community as I was before… More politics… I wanted to create a newsletter and/or place that the people of the community would all participate in. Everyone from grade school to senior citizens. I wanted a place where little Katie down the street would write a story about her dog and it would be published. Or Granpa Jim would tell old war stories. Even Mary on such and such road advertising that she had some extra carrots from her garden for anyone who wanted them. I came so close to that with the publication. For 2 years every month I had people stopping me in the streets asking when the Bulletin was going to be coming out. … So so close before the funding was cut … With 10x more work, it just didn’t carry the same on Facebook…

Community Noise was a radio show that I did for, again 2 years. I started it when the funding for the Ballyphehane Bulletin was cut. There was this opportunity to basically do what I was doing with the Bulletin but on radio with a bigger audience … So I thought … The show quickly turned into a hub for community organizations to let Cork City know what they did and how the community could be involved. Over the 2 years we had over 60 organizations, groups and people come and talk on the show. But again politics, disorganization & miscommunication … My work schedule also got in the way of what is now mandatory training and meetings for volunteers plus a membership fee that had to be paid before we were allowed on air along with the constant accusation that the volunteers were not participating enough. Again, so so close…

Today I quit. It turned me inside out. Both came so close to being Great if only it was given … more time? … more support? … more money? … I don’t know … maybe a better person than me to make it all work. I know that hanging on to them is weighing me down. It’s like the residue of my failing slowly eating away at me. I feel like I just gave up. but I know that this will soon pass especially now that the residue is cleaned. And maybe, just maybe, another opportunity will arise sometime down line when I’m in a better place so that I can give a good whack at it!

Highly Disappointed WordPress…

Sure, I’ve been away from blogging on WordPress for a long long time. Doesn’t mean that I haven’t dipped in every now and again to see what’s up. Every time I have, WordPress has changed the format so that it’s like figuring out a whole new sight. It seems every bit of guidance you get from Word Press to supposedly help you navigate through,  passively aggressively presses you to create and pay for a website that you won’t understand how to use. Thought that I would encourage an inspiring poet to set up a Word Press account to show off his prose. But after the tangled ball of yarn of setting up his account, and him writing his first post, we couldn’t find it anywhere on WordPress unless we logged into his account. AND from his account he couldn’t find my WordPress! Needless to say, this certainly attributed to my absence. Word Press, you are not user friendly! I understand that I am slow, and that I haven’t kept up, but it’s so much easier to post a blog or publish your writing on Facebook than it is here. … Ugh… The sad thing is, I will still slog through Word Press because at the very least and know enough to keep my Word Press Free and Facebook … *sigh*…

This Bus Strike…

So this bus strike … I want to support them. I do! It’s their right! … At least they’re talking, but  (of course there’s a “but”) I need to get to work …

One of the reasons I love living in Cork is as one very drunk stag party participant said one Summer morning a few years back is that “Cork is small enough to get around in, but big enough to be in Ireland!” We don’t need subways, and tramways, and trains, and roller coasters to get around. And although I’d be dubious about getting to work via roller coaster, if I had too I would. All we really need are the busses.

So this bus strike… It’s their right… At least they’re talking, but I need to get to work…

I called in all my favours from friends that have cars or roller coasters, or at least access to one or the other  to help me out and give me a lift, but not only give me a lift to work but help out my co workers and bring them back into town after I relieve them from their shift. I’m asking my friends with cars and roller coasters to be shuttle busses. Because I would have to work 5 hours of my 8 hour shift just to pay the cost of a cab to work and back.  I owe my friends my soul, of which they will have to fight for, or dismantle and portion out.

So this bus strike… It’s their right. At least they’re talking, but I need to get to work… And I have no soul of my own …

The process is relentless. Constantly posting on Facebook, ” Desperate! Need a lift to Ballincollig Thur 3pm & Lift back for Co Worker! Please Help! Anyone?” Keeping it short enough so that it stays in big bold letters, and making sure I do it on my cell phone so that I have the option of turning it into some kind of meme that everyone will look at, because my laptop is 7yrs old and bugs me constantly to update this, that and the current rate of  beach sand accumulation on the floor mats  in the abandon Datsun in Alberta Canada. I post it on Monday, then again Tuesday with a different background colouring so that it looks like a different thought provoking meme. Please someone look at it! I post on Twitter, but the 15 followers I have live in the lost city of Atlantis, … or Colorado… I think … And the roller coaster won’t get me to work on time. … Still would be really cool though… Come Wednesday still no takers, and I post again, and I go to that very uncomfortable and awkward place, breaking through the safe guards to the family politics and ask my boyfriends family, because my boyfriend, like me, doesn’t have a car. … I manage to get a lift, this time, and will start the process all over again tomorrow…

So this bus strike… It’s their right…  At least they’re talking, but I need to get to work… I have no soul of my own & I have sold out to social media …

Feeling guilty and self indulgent, *I* need to get to work, nobody else, I do. But there are kids that can’t go to their after school activities because they depend on the bus. They’re needing to walk home while it’s still light out.  Sure many of the parents that have cars are do what they can to help out, filling up their cars with wayward students, but still there’s about a 1/3 of the students missing, with little hope in sight because the plans for an infra city roller coaster for some reason haven’t been developed yet.

The small businesses in town are suffering. They can afford a roller coaster to bring customers into their shops. And since they’re not a chain, they can’t make up the loss else where.

Even more disconcerting, more disheartening, are the pensioners (senior citizens, for all those back in the States) and people who have medical needs. They absolutely cannot go on the roller coasters! They have to walk  or pay crazy amounts of cash for a cab to get to the hospital to receive ridiculously overpriced, but badly needed medical care. … So they’re walking from the Kent train station to CUH to get their chemo treatments and back. I’ll let you Google how far that is.

So this bus strike… It’s their right…  At least they’re talking, but I need to get to work… I have no soul of my own, I have sold out to social media & am guilty for being heartless…

They’re at least talking… They’ve announce just now that they will come to a decision by tomorrow at lunch. If the strikers get what they want, I wonder if they knew that they held our personal lives, and livelihoods for ransom. We didn’t get a choice in the matter. The strikers took us hostage and held us for ransom with the thought that CIE cared. CIE cares about the bottom line – money. And there are plenty of other ways to disrupt their bottom line than to force us all on the roller coaster. I hope, or should I say “they better” appreciate the turmoil they put us all through, because our suffering saved their arses!

So this bus strike… It’s their right…  At least they’re talking, but I need to get to work… I have no soul of my own, I have sold out to social media & am guilty for being heartless… I was held for ransom and survived. I’m looking forward to a pleasant smile and a fond Thank You from the bus driver on my next several bus rides…

 

Coming Back…

Goodness does everything look different. …  It’ll take a bit of time to get back in the swing of it. … I’ll terrible, simply awful at the start, but hopefully get better with practice… or get comfortable in my mediocrity … Well, OK… I’ll get started…

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