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.
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 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.
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.
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.
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.