Today being St. Patrick’s Day, and with half my family coming from ‘over the water I would like to wish all you good readers, kittlings & Drekheads slainte mhaith, or good luck & good health.
Slainte mhaith; slaa-n-jhe wah (Ulster dialect), or Slaww-n-Sha wah (most common).
And because the goodly Padraig also shares his feast day with Saint Gertrude of Nivelles (called the patron saint of cats) I will also share this titbit of disturbing news:
The Kitten now knows how to open cupboards…IS NOTHING SAFE!?
Night-black; void-black; black as December-seas – crows can be encountered like silhouette cut-outs on a sunny day; you can’t expect them to move, to soar, to have life. They sit sentinel and watching. Maybe that is why this effusive bird has garnered such a dire reputation through the ages, from being the harbinger of death and the herald of war to even having the title ‘carrion’ appended to its name.
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Editing can be a harsh mistress [sometimes]. I’ve taken to [occasionally] rereading through my old work at irregular intervals. A [sort of] year-in-review [maybe], even if the pieces [usually] aren’t published. Work out where my writing [most of the time] falls down – and these are phrases [that seems] groovy and ‘literary’ at the time, but now appear cluttered and indecisive.
Ah me oh my…
most of the time