Samhain. Ireland. Say no more.

Ireland has saved the world, many times over.  Can't mess with history.

Oíche Shamhna faoi mhaise

 

 

America in the 1950s

 

Tootsie Pop Wars

 

 Halloween was over, the chocolate candy consumed, and empty wrappers told the tale.

Only the good stuff was eaten, leaving mini-Tootsie pops, generic copies and Jolly Rogers in candy collecting containers. The order had been given to toss those losers away.

The challenge began when ten-year old Lily handed me a Cherry Mini-Lollipop, and kept the grape for herself.  “How many licks will it take to get to the chocolate center?”

We both looked at the candy on a stick, judged how small the round candy was, and made predictions.  Me: 75, Lily: 50.  How long would this competition take?  Me: 30 minutes, Lily (bravado of a 10 year old): 20 minutes, for sure.

 

 

Ready, steady, GO!

20 minutes in, I had done 120 (cherry). And Lily was up to 100.

 

25 minutes in, I was up to 200, and Lily was leading with 220.

 

At 30 min., I had moved to 308, and Lily was all purple smiles at 315.

As the minutes piled up, my jaws cramped, the type of cramp one gets after eating a bag of Sweet Tarts.

We struggled with sore tongues.  “You’re going down, Grandma…”

 

 

600 to 582---653 to 690…would it ever end?

The end slipped in at 45 rough minutes.  Me: 915 and Lily: 998.

Lily danced around the kitchen, hands in the air, singing “Eye of the Tiger”.  Me?  I went to look into a mirror.  Sticking out my cherry red tongue, I see that the sweet and sour zones in the tongue had worked themselves raw.

 

Battle ended, winner is not at all gracious about her victory. Grandma scoops up paper wrappers, pours a glass of white, and sits down. Being a loser is hard work.

Rule of tongue: eat all the chocolate stuff and dump the rest.  The Tootsie Pops are not worth a single lick to this writer. I go for the good stuff, and this candy is not that.

 

The parameters of this game were vague.  I gathered that the more licks it took to get to the chocolate center was the winner.  It shows self control.  Whatever.  It is in poor taste to beat a grandchild who sings "Eye of the Tiger" and knows the words.

 

Praise be to God! Halloween is over!

 

 

Halloween is over…Praise be to God.

Starting at 6:00 pm, they came in waves: low tide, heavy surf, high tide…

Little princesses, little super heroes with proud parents holding them…Shy, little first-timers are so shy.

Mixed in the low tide were toddlers and pre-school delights, walking uncertainly to the door.  “Tank you…”

 

The golden delights (eight to twelve yr. old) boldly stride to the door.  “Triggertree” they said, with their plastic pumpkins held out.  Parents waiting on the sidewalk talk and look at the watches.  “Thanks…” Parents smile and wave.  Some respond to a sign on the door.

Heavy surf.  

Teenagers charge the door, running from house to house.  Demand “Triggertree!”  No parents this time.  Should have been, but no.

Shock hits when they see the bold sign:  No Adults or Teens.  ‘But I’m…I’m…only …ten. Hands, feet, and teeth always tell the truth, and they walk away.

  High tide. 

Huge vans pull up under the street lamps, offloading streams of parents and kids, all ages, people not from this community or even this town.  These  triggertreeders are out trolling for more candy.  Exhausted children are dragged along with these adults who expect to harvest the candy from their kids.

This neighborhood is mostly retirees, their lights were off. The cuteness factor of the low tide is what matters.

Oh-God-Please!-not these!  Time is 8:25, about ten minutes to lights off. We originally put up 8:30, just easing away from the door.

Hoards hit the door, but brake to read the signs: 

Candy is for children only; No Adults and Teens; and, Donate to Wounded Warriors (with a five-gallon water bottle, containing change and dollar bills).

Parents, dressed in tutus and ghostly sheets, are confused, walking away with evil eyes. Small kids step up “Triggertree”, holding out pillowcases, heavy with candy.  Most said Thanks.

Teens announced they are twelve—nice try.  One tall boy looks confused; he doesn't speak English.  ‘Say you’re twelve’ he is told, but he announces ‘diaz’. No.

Only one little boy asked about the signs.  “Candy is for children only…candy costs money…can’t afford it…” he is told.

Finally 8:35 pm arrives.  Signs come down. Lights go off.

The water bottle holds more and more change.  From which wave?  It did not matter.

We collected about $125.

The waves settled into calm water.  Praise be to God.

What do you think?  Check out these sites:

 Are adults too old to go trick or treating alone, without children?

Is there an age at which an adolescent should stop trick or treating?

Let there be light in the dark

 

Source

Towers as dust rises

Pillars of creation

Eaten by brilliant light

Divided and torn

Infants emerge

Fire explodes

Streams of gas

Towering peaks

Arrows sail

God's Heaven

Thus magnificent photo from the Hubble Telescope has been provided by  Carolyn at Words and Worlds in 2016, re-post. To have access to a magnificent telescope, now that would be amazing.

The Mountains of Mourne

 

                                                Keith Harkin of the Celtic Thunder.

The Mountains o' Mourne

by Percy French (1896)

  During this time, Ireland had been divided into the Republic of Ireland and Northern Ireland.  It was a volatile time for the country. Northern Ireland remained mainly protestant, while the Republic was primarily Catholic. After much violence, the creation of the Republic of Ireland occurred. The Acts of the Union started in Jan. 1,1900, and was terribly deadly, 1922 - 1923. An agreement in it took some time for The Troubles to settle down. Lots of history cultural crammed into that song.

Percy French was a prolific song writer, late 1800 to early 1900s. This is a long poem, so choose what means something to you.

The Mountains of Mourne

Oh, Mary, this London's a wonderful sight,

With people all working by day and by night.

Sure, they don't sow potatoes, nor barley, nor wheat,

But there's gangs of them digging for gold in the street.

 

At least when I asked them that's what I was told,

So I just took a hand at this digging for gold,

But for all that I found there I might as well be

Where the Mountains o' Mourne sweep down to the sea.

I believe that when writing a wish you expressed

As to how the fine ladies in London are dressed,

Well if you'll believe me, when asked to a ball,

They don't wear no top to their dresses at all.

Oh I've seen them meself and you could not in truth,

Say if they were bound for a ball or a bath.

Don't be starting such fashions, now, Mary, mo chroí, (my heart),

Where the Mountains o' Mourne sweep down to the sea.

I've seen England's king from the top of a bus

And I've never known him, but he means to know us.

And tho' by the Saxon we once were oppressed,

Still I cheered, God forgive me, I cheered with the rest.

And now that he's visited Erin's green shore

We'll be much better friends than we've been heretofore

When we've got all we want, we're as quiet as can be

Where the Mountains o' Mourne sweep down to the sea.

You remember young Peter O'Loughlin, of course,

Well, now he is here at the head of the Force.

I met him today, I was crossing the Strand,

And he stopped the whole street with a wave of his hand.

And there we stood talkin' of days that are gone,

While the whole population of London looked on.

But for all these great powers he's wishful like me,

To be back where the dark Mournes sweep down to the sea.

There's beautiful girls here, oh, never you mind,

With beautiful shapes nature never designed,

And lovely complexions all roses and cream,

But let me remark with regard to the same

 

That if of those roses you ventured to sip,

The colours might all come away on your lip,

So I'll wait for the wild rose that's waiting for me

In the place where the dark Mournes sweep down to the sea.

 

Percy French composed many Irish songs and was appreciated/admired all through the countries, and beyond. The song above has more meaning than could be seen.

Ryan Kelly, George Donaldson, Paul Byrom, Damain McGinty, Neil Byrne, Keith Harkin

 The names in red are the three most popular voices, Donaldson and McGinty. McGinty is the "kid".  He matures and goes on to perform in Les Miserable. Keith Harkin was killed in an auto accident in 2018. He was popular for his sweet handsome face and voice.  George Donaldson was the mature leader, with a voice that grabs you. He passed away at age 48 of a massive heart attack.

 

 

 

 

Politics and words, again

 

 This issue has gone too far.  I refused to be politically correct since before Clinton was president. I know that that term is out of date.  Please write it below?

In this PC (politically correct) generation and country, more words and more will emerge.  Anything that even hints as a criticism of anyone, race, sexual preference...you name it and it is not PC.

source

Recently the word "person" is under attack by students at a Washington (?) State University (maybe).  The second syllable "son" is objectable: it is gender offensive.  Now "son" should be "perx" or "perxn"? 

Did you know that calling a person/perxn "crazy" is offensive.  It should be "albeist slur" which refers to a person who is mentally deficient.

Did you know that at a recent SyFy convention, the organizers could not create a food choice for space aliens?  They chose to serve Mexican food because this had never been served at previous conventions.  It was offensive because it could be construed as a reference to Mexican immigrants or "aliens".
 

"Homosexual" is offensive and should be "same gender loving"..."elderly" is "people of advanced age"..."healthy" is "non-disabled individuals"...

A commemoration of the Holocaust was cancelled because "it was too Euro-centric."

How many more words will be under attack by spoiled and self-serving  students or politicians?  Can you think of some?
 

Parents: If you are paying for your student to attend a school of this nature, jerk the money rug from beneath them.  Community colleges are excellent; two years of required classes there will save money. And, insist on a part-time job to help pay for gas and car insurance. 

Student loans? They are a trap. Government payments of student loans? Nothing is free.
There.  I feel much better.

This is a repost from 2018 or maybe 2015. I could replace the "date published" with today's date, or even one where my gr-kids graduated from college. What was written back then can be copied and paste to a new post. Basically, what was new back then is now old. New words are the same as the old words, just upgraded (!), made accurate.

The Guitarists

                                   "Rickey Medlocke is a monster in his own right" 

Lynyrd Skynyrd, Free Bird concert in 1976 Australia 

My awareness of some great musicians of our time has expanded.  "Sweet Home Alabama" was an early song for me.  I really did not know the musicians, but then I started to recognize their talents and then their names. And then Free Bird was produced.

Rickey Medlocke is the amazingly gifted lead guitarist. His playing starts at around 7 min. into the song, playing until the end, at 13 min.  That is one very long solo, but Rickey burns it up. Listening to the whole performance, the pianist Peter Keys was crazily outstanding, whose opening is breathtaking.  He passed this past week, a loss to the music world.

 Free Bird was a song that has so much meaning that I can't condense and try to write about it.

 Who else? Who else, I ask. Brian May is another fantastic, "impresario" guitarist. I have listened to him, and looked at his hands and fingers. 

Tribute for Queen

 Dr. Brian May, astrophysicist, designed and built his guitar, which he has used for 50 years.This man can play. If you are not a rock person and the opening riffs are too overwhelming, go forward. As a scientist his brain puts together his music with a unique touch. Dr. May was lead player for Queen, was important throughout Freddie Mercury's career.  

Lukas Nelson (Willie Nelson's son) is another guitarist who is setting up some great music.  He sounds like his father, but his guitar is all his own. Bradley Cooper, in "A star is born" with Lady Gaga, personally insisted Lucas be in the band, respecting his talents.  Keep an eye on him.

 We saw them perform in Valley Center, California.  Willie was sick, developed pneumonia.  During the performance, it was clear that he was ailing. His son carried the performance, after Willie left the stage. What a performance.

So, these are some great guitarists.  There are so many that could have been highlighted (Jimi Hendrix) They are our age. Somehow they got older, and we wonder why they look so awful (Mick Jagger) and we don't. 

What do you think? Who are the guitarists you find amazing?  I don't know how many bloggers are smiling while others might be rolling their eyes. 

But this is different for me, as a storyteller. My listening to some excellent music (CCR) I hope this can give you some recall of music memories.

Note: Mike from Billions of Versions of Normal sent Brian May video.  It was much better than the one I selected. 

Where are you? Where were you?

Where did we start?  Where did we go? Where did we end up? 

My children have been in and then moving to different cities and states all over. My siblings live in Illinois and Ohio.  I live in California.  My husband's group live in Utah, Georgia, Missouri, Colorado, Vermont, and somewhere else. 

Our most eventful move took us to Ireland. We traveled with our children, saw castles and more.  And from Ireland our family headed out to distant places.

   

My daughter lives in Bern, Switzerland, with husband and our grandsons. Since Covid, our trips to see them were cut off. October 2023? Maybe?

My brother Don lives in Springfield, in Lincoln Land. This is a lovely city to visit. Lincoln lived there and ultimately was buried there. So much history surrounds this legendary place.

 

I grew up 100 miles from Springfield.  Our son now lives near Champaign-Urbana. St. Louis is about 90 miles from our farm.  Dad took hogs to market down in east St. Louis. I flew into St. Louis innumerable times over the 40 years when I visited my parents.

 

My brother went from farm boy in Illinois, to being a police officer in Texas, He was a cowboy at heart. But he lived around Galveston, along the coast. Bill had an adventurous spirit.

 

We have been to Phoenix many times. Irish Dance Festivals were our most recent ventures. Great city, do not go to visit in the truly Hot Season.  It is always hot there. We were once walking across mall parking lot; a man drove by in  a large golf cart to get the people to the mall stores alive.  121+ degrees is nothing to laugh at. 

 Small towns become smaller. Our farm was on the north side of town. The house was torn down (built in 1850+) and the pieces of the barn can be seen in between trees. We lived on the Nebo-Pittsfield road, in Pike County, Illinois.

Where we began and have ended up amazes me.  Once my siblings and I were wild cowboys, warriors, soldiers, wreaking general havoc. Now we have taken our own journeys, much milder and more introspective.

 

Vessel of Kindness, Found and Loved

vessel in the making

 

Great Aunt Evangeline always visited on my birthday, as regular as calendar and clock. Auntie E was full of so many things, most of them really irritating.  Adages? She had them. Shameless bragging? Overload there. A hoard of wisdom?  Good there, too.

Auntie E was a bland plain woman, with legs like stems. Even so, Auntie was utterly huge to the point of bursting, her size dominated any room. A successful business woman, she owned her own brokerage, always possessing great insight on sales and trends. And, believe it or not, that lady had a great golf swing. 

Yet, for all the things I hated about her, I loved her for them. In so many ways, Auntie E was a vessel of kindness to all she knew. While I possessed just a vestige of humanity, Auntie E loved and was loved, cared and was cared for, gave and then was given. 

I was none of those things. Still am. Yet, I will continue trying.

This is Wednesday Words, Oct. 2016. Six years ago, already? I love participating in the Wednesday Words experience.  This was formed some years ago by Delores who set it going. Sadly Delores had to hand off the baton to some talented writers.  This month Drifting through Life will posting the words at her site. Please pop over and check it out. If you post at her site, try to link it back to your own. I would love to read your blog and see what you did with those crazy words.

 

 

 

Fairies in the Dusk

 

The end of afternoon, enchanted dusk appeared,

Furrowed rows now drifted in the fields.

What was organized in morning

Had disappeared in falling dark.

Knowing it was time for fairies,

Their voices erupted in singing.

Light to dusk to dark,

Fairies glittered.

 

The italicized words are from the Wednesday Words. The words will in coming weeks appear at Elephant's Child and several other bloggers. Good stuff.

 

 

When Voices Burst through

 Witnessing something amazing and then acknowledging that this person can really sing, that is one of our gifts from God. This is our gift: to be blessed by the talent of these wonderful young people.

                                                Jonathon and Charlotte at 16, 17 years old.

 

Jonathon and Charlotte were in voice/singing classes when their teacher connected their voices  and talents.

                                                                Hallelujah

Originally, Kyle Tomlinson was told by David (a judge) to take voice lessons, at age 12.

Then at age 15, he came back to impress Simon, show David what he can do.

 

 Open the Eyes of my

http://christopherduffley.com

 Would these amazingly talented youth have moved on without someone's encouragement? These talented people moved beyond what was seen by other their peers' judgement. 

Judgement?  Obesity? Not beautiful or handsome? Disabled? Ridiculed? Autism? It takes almost every cell from these committed artists to put out performances like these. 

Hearing and then believing, finally singing?  Oh, those are their gifts to us. 

It is likely that I already posted this. I am sorry. I need to be uplifted, and these children do that.