What better for Halloween eve, than a post about bones?
Human bones. Lots and lots of them.
Don’t touch, please? No problem. Can you imagine if all that collapsed?
Especially when you get an idea of how very deep the pile of bones is.
That is an awful lot of femurs. Impresses me more than the skulls, actually. For every two you see, one person gone.
And there is art.
That’s me that is! Nine years ago, when I used to still dye my hair red (mom was a redhead, I have to have some sort of ginger-provenance).
You could touch some of the work – evidenced by the shiny patina on this skull.
So much going on here, it is hard to comprehend. This is a massive chandelier.
Amazingly beautiful nonetheless.
Every artist should sign their work.
Apologies for photo quality – this was 2006 and we had a serviceable but lacking camera back then. I also have to say that the smell of the place really struck me – I’m a “super smeller” and it was an odd, cold but dry smell. Like nothing else I’ve ever experienced. It wasn’t unpleasant, but distinctly odd.
I went to the doctor today for the lump in my wrist. Said lump has come and gone for years. Usually it hangs around for a week or two and goes back into hiding. Well, this time I have had about five months of looking like I have a second ulna-knob. Hehe, I said knob. It has been aching at work, and if I whack it on something I don’t cry (I do not cry) but I get angry at the pain, which isn’t fun for anyone.
On Sunday I tried to open a jar and not only did it bloody well hurt, it kinda popped inside my wrist in a very unsettling way. That was enough for me to give up and go for professional help. If I can’t open a damn jar, how can I do my job safely with all the lifting and pulling?
Like my new socks? How about the doggie feet? Action shot!
Doc says it is a ganglion cyst. Not the biggest she’s seen, but not the smallest either (I have another on the side of my right wrist and don’t care about that one as it is sooo weee).
Ganglion cysts are pockets of thick goo that grow on the sheath to your tendon. Sounds fun! I can’t find the website Doc showed me, but basically you can aspirate it (suck the goo out), or you can pop it (drop a heavy-ass book on it and hope! Doc did make a quip about Bible-bashing, I swear she did! Awesome). But in either of those options, the pocket is still there and likely to refill.
So – surgery it is! It doesn’t worry me, and dudes dig scars, so I’m now on the waiting list. The question is – what should we name my passenger before I cut it out?
Ha! No the real question is – how long is the wait? Might as well ask how long is a piece of string. I’ll know when I know, and probably with only a few days to a week of notice. Of course I had to post about it today as proof of the time frame. It will be much more interesting to see how long it takes!
I really hope I can take pictures. I totally want to see what this bad girl looks like. Any glimpse of the rest of my wrist-mechanics is also a draw for me! Stay tuned, kids!
I’ve been trying to get this photo for weeks.
I’ve been taking the big camera to work with me, and bringing it inside instead of leaving it in the car because I didn’t want condensation issues. The two days that the view was similar (but better!) than this, I had forgotten to bring the damn camera to work with me. Once I drove all the way home for it. Of course, when I got back to the perfect place, I was not only too late but the battery was stone cold dead! Auugh! And of course, every day the sunset came earlier and earlier, while I still had to work until the same late hour… So you know now that this took some effort, and wasn’t just luck!
The pointy one is Croagh Patrick, County Mayo’s most famous mountain. An extinct volcano, it has been revered by the Irish for several thousand years, and is now a Catholic pilgrimage site.
From many angles the mountain also named “The Reek” doesn’t look so perfectly pyrimidical. I’ve posted a picture from this same place along the road before – back in March 2012 – I did the research then and said that as the crow flies, I am taking this picture from about 50 KM or 30 miles away. I think the sunset magnifies the mountain somehow. It isn’t huge – 764 metres or 2,507 feet – so to be seen so clearly from so far away is a rarity. Well, I’ve only gotten it twice in over three years!
*Need I remind everyone that copyright belongs to the blog owner and this picture is not for reuse without permission? I do have it in RAW format if someone wishes to purchase it.
I’m unpacking Halloween stuff. How about this little gem?
That’s MY BRAIN! And my scary-ass eyeballs. Isn’t it the best? I love seeing my insides.
They have been in bloom for weeks now, but holy shit it is hard to take a good photo of them!
Only three have bloomed – one is still thinking about it, and two died. Dammit. I won’t leave them outside ever again!
The youngest, and smallest, of the brood.
The second one to open. Gorgeous!
This is my favourite. I want so much for you to see how the underside of the petals are a different colour. Can you? It’s impossible, I think, to capture what we see.
Sometimes a picture isn’t enough -these flowers have made me realise that not everything can be expressed or shared to the full extent of reality.
Grow these – buy these – whatever you need to do, but please try to get this flower into your life. Mine are hidden away (from cats) on the windowsill of our toilet! Have to say every time we visit the room, we both talk about the daisies.
Have to buy something that is so terrible, it is good.
This is an Official Leprechaun (the Movie) Halloween decoration. It’s one of those hanging thingies, and I don’t have a place to hang it, but it was just SO bad I had to buy it.
I just tossed the elastic over the top of the kitchen door, and it’s still there. Managed to startle iDJ once! Hehehe.
What every Irish household needs! Especially for €2.99. Who of you could resist?
Hubby came home early from the pub Saturday night.
He walked in the door, took a wobbly double take at me sitting in the living room, and promptly told me that I’m not allowed to talk to him because he is a ghost.
He’s a ghost because usually I wouldn’t have the opportunity to hear his random blather for another two hours, and I’d be asleep by then and avoid it entirely.
Somehow being an incorporeal being (instead of just, um, early home) made the most sense to him.
Love that nutter.
My sister took this photo of her daughter playing in a puddle. I think it is one of the best pictures ever.
I’m not tagging this with anything, so it doesn’t get used and abused. This is just for my friends online, to see if you love it as much as I do!