My bass. MINE. Not one that I get a few nervous seconds to play, while always worried I’d break “his” instrument. Or be laughed at and belittled because I want to play, too. MINE. All for me, and now I can be the one looking askance if someone else touches my bass. 30 something years I’ve been wanting one of my own – and finally I do.
Rock on, everyone.
Three years ago, my best friend Socks visited Maine.
Who do I love that lives in Maine? Could it be my life-long hero Stephen King?
Well. Socks went to his house.
And took a beautiful photo of it.
And took an autumn leaf from the grounds outside the friggin’ awesome fence the King’s have around their property!
And framed them both up, and sent them to me.
One bookshelf out of four that are crammed full of King books and comics. Um, and wishbones. I save them. Seems like an appropriate place to store them! Of course, Socks’ framed photo and leaf had to live here, too.
Look at the gates! How awesome are they?
One of Stephen King’s leaves. How damn cool is that? Maybe one day I’ll meet him and totally creep HIM out by saying I have some of his property? Heh. I am a Constant Reader, but I don’t think I’d qualify as Number One Fan! That is pure cockadoodie.
Thank you again to Socks for this, I treasure it so much. You are the best friend ever.
I needed new work boots! As you can see. Exactly the same model, but so nice and shiny clean it seems a shame to beat them to hell, too. I managed to wear them from 9:30 to 4:15 today before I got sore. They just need to loosen up a bit. Condsidering that I have walked an average of 8km (5miles) a day at work this week, that isn’t a bad break-in time before I realised I might be heading toward blister-toes.
I’m married to a shoe-guy. He is also the shopper of the family. He is also really, really good at spotting a good, rare shoe at a great price. So now I have two beautiful sets of Doc Martens. I love that he knows me so well that he gets me amazing boots or kicks (sneakers) that I will actually wear! The black ones are called Coralie, quilted leather. The brown ones are…who knows. Now, I just need to be the kinda gal who changes her shoes three times a day so I can wear them all…
The same day we went to Clonmacnoise, we visited Boora Bog and its acres of sculpture parklands. We went to see the art and have a nice long walk on a lovely day – we were successful!
The art installation was begun in 2002, and most works have a theme relating to the Bord na Mona peat-harvesting that was done in the area from the 1950’s-1970’s. Quite a few works reference the wee trains that moved the cut peat out of the bog.
Every work has a sign giving details of the artist and their inspiration and materials used. This one is called ‘Sky Train.’
Looking out from one lonely train engine toward a stand of upside-down bog oak. There is a tiny dolmen in the centre.
The bog-oak henge.
Two views of the same work. So far all pictures have been one by himself and one by me!
Another work. Sorry we didn’t log names.
This one is meant to embody a skipping stone. I saw a canal-monster!
There was so very very much more here. More art, endangered birds, and a Mesolithic site! We spent hours but could have spent a few days. If you go, expect to not want to leave!
We bought a load of dahlias early in the year. Of course now is their prime time, despite my lack of care and feeding this year. Some haven’t bloomed at all, but have foliage. Some just keep it up and have since August!
The most recent to bloom – one pic is mine, one is hubby’s. Same flower!
This big one is going right now, too. It was turned to the side, away from the sun, so I had to hold it for himself to take a decent picture.
Earlier blooms from the same plant – it is quite prolific!
Plain white – don’t remember buying this one but it is here nonetheless.
I could swear we got a purple and white one, but instead this came up. Oh well, it’s still pretty, and welcome.
Now. Will I remember to dig them out when it gets cold? Likely not!
Yeah, I’ll likely be doing a lot more cat posts! Most of you won’t mind 🙂
Still having kitty cuddles. This isn’t going to stop unless someone has a major personality change. It can happen – but for now, the boys are buddies.
Sleepy kitten! He seems to have bags under his eyes when he gets tired.
Tired of being sat on? Shortly after I took this, Lokii flopped down on Lumi’s head and nearly smothered him. Lokii gets tired, too! All that playing. And the warm fire right there to stare into.
Kitten smiles…
…and kitten looks rather demented when chatting with me when he wakes up!
I won’t give you a history lesson – my attention span isn’t that good just yet to do the proper research. Situated in County Offaly, the site dates to 545 ad. That boggles my mind!
We were here last Wednesday. It was a lovely day for pictures. These are a mixture of his and mine.
We got a kitten. I wasn’t ready, but Siamese Lokii was pining badly for his buddy Spot. As we all were. But he was crying all the time, and eating the dog toys even more than usual. I won’t say he was clingy, because the pair always shared me together and he didn’t really know what to do with us humans, when he didn’t have his brother with him to show him what to do.
It didn’t take long before he became big brother to Lumi. My legs, by the way.
Good boys.
Sleepy kitten.
Sleepy kitten with big paws. Do you see the glitter? His toes are sparkling silver.
And his nose is sparkling gold.
Kissable little boop-nose. And he lets me kiss it.
Those eyes.
When he first wakes up from a long nap, he loves to talk about it. He still has the tiny kitten voice, so I wake to him sleepily coming up to my face and ‘meeping’ to me. Then he licks my nose, or eyes. Usually my eyes! I think this picture gives an indication of what he might look like all grown up.
Lumi (Finnish for snow) is a lynx seal point snow Bengal. His markings will darken, but the white will stay white. I didn’t get him for his looks, but his personality. I couldn’t imagine life without a Bengal in it. He has been such a little love, I know I did right. I didn’t replace Spot, but made a new place in my heart to be filled.
I’ve had this plant a long time. I first got it in 1998 or so. I couldn’t bring it with me to Ireland, but I did take a cutting and brought it in sans soil. Lucky for me, it survived a month in the container in a jar of water and damp paper towel. Probably still illegal, but at least I didn’t bring any bugs or weird microbes in to the country. It’s a house plant, here, but is native to South Africa – as it seems a lot of my favourite plants are!
Oddly enough, after 11 years, this thing finally decided to bloom. Not that long ago, I gave it a good soaking, and a wash (the leaves are furry and collect a lot of cat hair), and I guess that finally sparked it into flowering. I won’t read anything into a corpse flower blooming the week my Spotty cat died.
First I noticed was that there was a huge balloon sticking out the side.
Stormtrooper mini-fig for size. We all know how big they are, right?
Then it opened.
Weird as hell, right? And it does, indeed, stink of death. Not that bad, really, unless you stick your face right in it. The scent and hairs are to mimic a dead animal, as this is a fly-pollinated plant. The texture of the bloom is very much like leather, too. This one started to shrivel today, so I cut it off. But there are several more coming, so I am taking better care of it than I usually do. It got another good soaking today.
If you want to learn more about this unique plant.
heretherebespiders 