Luck of the Irish…

The month of March holds quite a few meaningful days in my life, the obvious is St Patrick’s Day sharing with it other happy events that occur this month but they are not all happy there is a sad one in there creeping up on me.

When my friend gave me these hand towels as a thank you for watching the boys they hit me, they got me thinking.  I mean other than loving them and not wanting to use them because they are great they have made me think of how much really happens in my life during this month.

The sad day has to be first for if not for my father I would not have life; I am lucky to have had him as my dad. We lost him in March.

I am lucky to have a great family; two of which celebrate their births this month.

And this month I celebrate an anniversary. I decided to go on what would end up becoming that first date that was “my last first date”. In March I found that one true love of my life.

I am lucky to have a connection to the country that pays homage to St. Patrick and to have rented a car, drove through its countryside and made memories of a life time with my father and sister.

I am lucky to have good friends, real and true friends.

Like most lives we have our ups and downs but I can count myself lucky to have people in my life that make the downs bearable and ups unforgettable.

Like the hand towel says, “lucky” but if you come in to my house and try to use them you won’t be. Thank You Erin.

In Between is Memories…


A view from the beginning of the day and a look back at the end of the day; in between is memories.

Fans were elated and disappointed. They jumped, they screamed, they chopped and they booed. They ate, they laughed and they drank. Some drank so much they fell asleep in the front row; what a waste of a seat.  But in the end it’s all about the memories created.

My first memory of baseball rings back to childhood. A hot summers night, all the kids were running around playing a game called slips; we lived in an apartment block with no air conditioning so all the moms were out front sitting in their chairs drinking their sombrero while the kids were allowed to stay up late playing this game. It’s like hide and go seek on steroids; only the older kids could play. The younger kids had to stick to where the moms could see us. My dad could be found sitting on the back porch in the pitch dark. I would stand in the doorway looking out, I could see the orange glow of the hot cigar growing brighter with each of my father’s deep breaths and then the smell would grow stronger as he exhaled the thick smoke. He sat out there on the porch listening to the baseball games on the radio. Sometimes I would go sit out there and not say a word just listing to the game, the crackle of the cigar that would burn down with each breath and sometimes I would stand in the doorway, in the dark and just listen; I wonder if he knew I would stand there and watch that cigar burn down listening to the games.

As I got a little older I attended some Red Sox games in Boston and yes they were fun but one of the most memorable game that sticks out in my mind was at Yankee Stadium. It was not the game that I remembered hell, I couldn’t even tell you who they played; I think Bucky Dent was at short stop. It was one particular thing that sticks out in my mind that occurred that day.  The seats in the upper deck were so damn steep and we were so high up that when I stood up I felt like I could tumble over all the rows and fall splat on to the field. However, I do know we were not the only people in our section that day feeling high. About one or two rows down in front of us some young boys lit up a joint and started passing it around. Suddenly my mom is yelling down the entire row “Turn your heads, turn your heads” she thought we were all going to get high.  

Turner Field does not have that issue, it’s almost too big, to spread out, it lacks that intimate feeling of a good baseball field and you feel far removed from the game. But now that I live in Atlanta and He is a huge baseball fan we try to attend some games throughout the summer. He is a Cubs fan; I am a Red Sox fan.  As stated in a previous post he discovered that side of me when we attended a Braves vs. Red Sox game. Of course we won and that is my most memorable game here in Atlanta to date.  Last night we went to the playoff game were the Braves lost to the Giants.  There was of a different kind of energy before during and after the game. He says that was one of the loudest crowds he has ever heard, I beg to differ that Red Sox game was pretty rowdy.

As I am writing this He hollered up to say the Braves lost, seems as though they have come to their end.  As always it’s the beginnings and endings and what we make of the memories in between.

It’s Time For Baseball Playoffs …

It’s time for baseball playoffs which means that He is in heaven. He has a favorite team but He just loves the sport and watches all the games. Last weekend we went to what could have been one of the final games in Bobby Cox’s career; thanks to some awesome friends who shared tickets we had a great time.  And yes, even the can throwing incident was funny but only after it occurred; what made it so special was how He AND Erin both in the heat of moment acted sort of the same. Cans were thrown, faces made out the back window, a classic moment to remember for sure.

This weekend we will be attending our first ever playoff game. Do I have a team in it? Does He have a team in it? No not the game we will be attending, it’s a playoff game, its baseball and it’s something to do on a nice Sunday afternoon.  Yes, it is better when you have a team in the game and yes, we once attended a game that my team played in …once.

He said that He has never seen that side of me before and mumbled something about rude New Englanders. Whatever! We out cheered the home team fans and quite possibly outnumbered them as well and of course we rocked the home team. So, if you want to call that rude so be it, if someone comes in your house and takes over you should hold your heads down in shame and take the beating. OK so yeah, I guess that was a side of me He or anyone else for that matter  has ever seen but hey I am not a trash talker I don’t yell rude things at the other fans, I don’t even call the opponents rude names. During the game you can certainly count on me to cheer, quite possibly the loudest and celebrate the win but I am not rude. Just don’t ever take me to a hockey game.

Its fun going to a baseball game with Him, I like it and He even looks cute in His baseball hat. I guess that is where I digressed today.  

So enjoy the neat perspective of the Braves Fan appreciating their Coaches retirement celebration. May you have a happy retirement Bobby Cox; you have brought so much too so many players in your career.

The New View…

Another one, what’s this?! I just wanted to share this picture. I found it before I was about to shut down. I forgot I shot this yesterday while I sat here at my computer. Yeah, the room is a bit disheveled as that we are in transition. Turning this room from my girly guest room into the girly office room; transition how friendly a name for a mess.

I know my white balance is off and there are photographically so many things wrong, crappy composition, no framing, I cut off the end of the computer screen blah blah blah but to me, in my opinion they look right. I love the hue, the over exposed windows the etherial feel of it all and really the only thing I added was burned edges. At the time my view was really not contianing the  computer screen so there, it was cut off by my peripheral vision. I just realized I have a thing for burned edges, just ask the people at the Dugout. When I would call in the order I would ask for my grinder  to have the edges burnt; I digress as always. Ok back to my thought, I wanted to share my new view with everyone yesterday because I was really diggin it but I think I moved on to …OH I know I left, went paint swatch hunting with Him.

You can’t really see it behind the computer monitor but there is a big, overstuffed chair with a pattern that no longer goes with anything but I love it. He had it when I moved in with Him a long time ago and I think He inherited it from His mom. It is so comfy, I will not let Him get rid of it, thing is now it may not fit anywhere in our house. Reilly loves to perch right there, over the top of the monitor, on the back of the chair; he sunbathes in the window to the left.  He also barks at other dogs and people walking by; if only I could talk Him (not Reilly HIM) in to upholstering the chair in the brown and white pony print faux fur I have wanted so badly then it wouldn’t have to go, it could stay, it would fit just right, in our sitting room.  

Any way I have this great idea for this room, new color, neat furniture something creative, inspiring, romantic and girly. 

I want to thank Apple for creating the iPhone; for if not for the iPhone my girly office would not be on its way and that explanation is for another day, maybe.

Looking Down the Stairwell…

So I hear this disturbance coming from downstairs and I perch myself over the wall to get a better listen to what is going on; I think most likely He is getting mad at Reilly for trying to make out with Him. You see Reilly does this nuzzle, walk up on His chest thing, trying to lick/kiss His bald head and face and when Reilly can’t get his way he stands back heavy sits and stares kinda like Frasier’s dog Eddie; after all Reilly is a Jack Russell as most of you already know. I like to call this making out, they have make out sessions where Reilly does get his way, sort of, it usually ends up with Reilly sleeping on Him for hours. I was thinking today was not one of Reilly’s  lucky days, but what I heard was not the disdain towards a make out session but Him telling Reilly to get his tug toy. Reilly was not understanding, he had brought his knotted up rope ball, not his tug toy and was not about to go find it on command. So, the ruckus I heard was Him telling Reilly to “Go get chyer tug toy.” It was not happening.

As the ordering commenced downstairs and I had figured out what the ruckus was something kept me leaning over the wall, looking at the angled stairwell, looking  down at what I could see of the sitting room and my throw made of sari material that hung on the wall of the first set of stairs; don’t make fun of my shortcut way to make it hang that is not what this is about today. The sitting room was where they were horsing around and as I was listening to this one way conversation that man and dog were having I started thinking to myself; He is funny, my life is funny, I got lucky after I had resolved that I never would, I really like this part of my life, my days, my house, my man, my dog, my hobby, and pretty much the way other things have worked out. Wish I could bring that feeling to other parts of my life but I will not digress today.  It’s a rainy dreary Sunday here and I should be looking for something I misplaced but I find myself hanging over the wall contemplating the luck that has struck me. He is a great man, Reilly is a good dog, and today I feel good.

“Go get chyer tug toy” brought me back, out of my thoughts and now I am back to searching for that thing I lost but I truly have that one thing I never thought I would find.

But Then Again It Could Have Just Been The Beer…

The Six Degrees of Separation, ever heard of it? Perhaps you have? There is a game that you can play using the theory; The Six Degrees of Kevin Bacon in which a ton of Hollywood actors can be connected to him in six degrees. I can participate in this and if you know me so can you, you would be the 4th degree of separation from him, cool right? You see now that makes you separated from Jack McFarland from Will n Grace, whose real name escapes me now but I like Jack and I have wanted a friend like him for so long but I digress. I do that a lot.  

It is also a  movie starring Will Smith but that is not what this about, read on.

The theory is that everyone in this world can be connected to any one else in this world by six degrees. Quite an interesting theory it is, when you put your mind to it the series of degrees is astounding.

When my sister and I were traveling in Ireland with our father we met these two guys one night while drinking in a pub who were very nice; hey I was single then no need to get all uppity because I am not single now. They showed us around town, sort of a mini pub crawl.  They worked for what I think was Irelands version of the Coast Guard sort of; they patrolled the coast and protected it from poachers and other stuff like that but then again I could be way off base here. The beer was going down great all night long. Dad was buying rounds earlier in the night and the beer there is not like the beer here. So, anyway a conversation that took place between me and one of the guys was about this six degrees thing, he wasn’t getting it; I broke it down for him. “I now know you; you have a friend who is now only separated by one person right? So, go down the list. If someone knows someone, and that person has a friend in let’s say Africa, I am now separated from the person in Africa by only five people he is the sixth. Like me you know me now so there are people in the states you will only be separated from by five people.” Can I tell you how the concept freaked  this individual out. It was like he was lost in infinity from that point on, like I threw a wrench in the spokes of his wheel of life.  It made me laugh; I never really ever said anything to any one that was so profound they were rendered speechless, right there, in front of me, I mean holding his head in his hands uttering nothing but “wow”. But then again it could have just been the beer.

Hot Totties for Joe…

It was a long time ago I went to a land far and away. 

Got off the plane, here I wanted to stay.

Driving in the car wrong side and all; yet I drove like a pro it was not I who hit that wall.

It was peace in my heart no troubles in my head; every day a new adventure every night a new bed.

A poets tower, a wonderful bay, the hills full of sheep and men making hay.

A town full of family a short visit at that; had to drive to the big city to get our money back.

Found a place for the night some reason didn’t feel right, but a hot shower with pressure was a pleasant delight.

Vegetarians platter was all I could eat for a saw was needed to cut that leather they called meat.

It was an Inch, it was a Strand, its beauty was grand, this place feels like home my heart left to roam.

Off to the place full of drink did help us mingle, a lovely little dolphin in a place called Dingle.

Up through the mountains, over cliffs to the sea, the trips end is coming how can this be?

Back where we started, oh the places we did go, a doll calling out a name, hot totties for Joe.

How I would miss this place, can’t explain why, sitting in the airport, beginning to cry.

It was a long time ago I went to a land far and away, I found my favorite flower on a bright sunny day.

Hell No Carnie Man, I Want The Rabbit…

I don’t have any pictures of The Big E but this one I thought was a good representation of the fair.

The Big E comes at the end of September and runs through October, just when autumn is rolling in and the nights are growing chilly.

My first vivid memory of the Big E was when I went with my sisters and brother. The details are a little fuzzy; I remember they had Hitler’s car set up in one of those carnie displays. You pay 2.00 bucks and get to see a car with thick bullet proof glass. I could be wrong about it being Hitler’s car but that is what my brain is conjuring up right now.

We walked forever, there was something around every corner and the stimuli was feeding my energy. It was getting dark, I was out with my big sisters and brother and as I was entering my own little world of amazement my brother is “lost”.  We start looking for what seemed like an eternity. My oldest sister stops at the information window, “How do you find someone who is lost around here?” voice from the window “Follow the blue line” look down on the ground there you find many colored lines leading to many different places. I felt like Dorothy from The Wizard of Oz, “Follow the blue line to find Michael, Follow the blue line to find Michael, follow follow…” Oh you get the idea… so we did and guess what? We literally found Michael. Walking the blue line to where ever you were going to find lost people at The Big and it actually lead us to my brother.

He was watching the fudge guy make a fresh batch of the yummy treat. The guy is up in this huge tractor trailer with the side cut out and glass put in so you can see what he was making.  It seemed to me that it was very high off the ground, or at least to all four feet tall of me it seemed that way.  The guy had this  mirror hanging behind him that was angled so you can see the sugary concoction he was pushing around  on the marble slab. You know the mirror? The one  so us wee people could see what he was doing making fudge. Michael was watching this guy make fudge!? Yup, what we found out that day at the Big E was that my brother has a fascination for the carnie barkers.  An interesting personality it is for sure; step back and watch the crowds walk by reacting to them it’s kind of like watching people at the airport.

After that I started making my father take me to the Big E.

For years it was just me and dad every Sunday it was running; this year it runs September 17th – October 3rd. Making our way through each of the state buildings finding out what is great in every New England state.  After that it was on to find lunch, which is not hard to do at The Big E. Another way to make your way through the fair is to eat your way through it but I digress. We would find a seat in the arena taking cover from the sun or cold or from whatever New England weather was throwing at us that year. We would watch the horse shows, digest whatever fine eats we found then walk over to the building where they would have the Clydesdales stabled. They were so amazing, so big, grand and graceful.  I would watch them saddle up for the parade getting as close as a little girl was allowed; dad would watch me watching them in amazement. I would learn later on how much he got a kick out of those moments.

Then it was on to the Midway. After years hitting up carnie games and moving on to shoppping at The Better Living Center my dad came up with a plan to keep me from clearing out his wallet; we play a few games and go shopping or we play a lot of games and no shopping, I had a choice. OK I had to think about this, I would play one game and then make a decision. Dad hands me the dollar bills, I give them to the carnie who then hands back to me three hula hoops; yes I said hula hoops. I stare down my targets, Yosemite Sam standing on a big wooden box or Bugs Bunny. I had to get the hoop around one of them AND the box to win a prize and it was a mighty huge prize at that; Bugs Bunny stood taller than me. I took my first shot nothing, second shot nothing. I looked up at my dad, he looked down at me raised his eyebrow and we looked back at Yosemite, I threw it with all my might… RINGER I GOT IT, I WON. “Whataya want little lady? Yosemite Sam?” asking me as he could see that Bugs was a little too big for me to carry and Yosemite might be easier to navigate the fair grounds. Hell no carnie man, I want the rabbit. I carried that thing around all day long.  I won it, everyone is going to see I won it and no one else is going to carry my Bugs Bunny. I even posed with it in one of those picture booths later on and put it on a mug.  Dad’s idea backfired, it was the first game the first few bucks and I was on to The Better Living Center to the lure of The Big E Barkers. He laughed and knew we made a deal.

When dad and I would decide it was time go the sun had gone down, the crowds were getting thinner and I never wanted to leave.  I wanted life to be like The Big E forever. I think my dad sensed my sadness so he would stop on the way out of the main gates and we would get mini donuts and carton of milk. Eating it on the way back to the car savoring the last bit of The Big E, exhausted and tired but happy and content; I was so happy and felt so loved and had so much fun. I always wanted to scream it out loud but I never did. My dad would say “Did ya have fun Ishkabible?” “Yeah I had a lot of fun. Can we come back next Sunday?” and he would rub my head messing up my hair and say with a laugh “Sure we can”

Years later after my dad was gone I talked my best friend in to going. She grew up down the road from The Big E so she had her memories too; we both shared them and started up the tradition again. Every Sunday it was  running, hitting every State House, finding our favorites and sharing them with each other and then on the way out of the main gate stopping to get the last treat of the day, mini donuts. AS we walked to the car I would say “Ok we are coming back next Sunday”