Journal Journal: Top o' the evening... 1
Lá Fhéile Pádraig sona daoibh!
Lá Fhéile Pádraig sona daoibh!
I give thanks for arriving
Safely in a new dawn,
For the gift of eyes
To see the world,
The gift of mind
To feel at home
In my life,
The waves of possibility
Breaking on the shore of dawn,
The harvest of the past
That awaits my hunger,
And all the furtherings
This new day will bring.
-- John O'Donohue
Táim buíoch mar tú, a Shearc.
I've got to buy a graphing calculator for a teaching competency exam I'll be taking in about two months. Despite doing 2 years of engineering, I've never used one of these things (they weren't useful for my courses in the 80s), and I'll have to become proficient in that time, as well. Does Slashdot have any recommendations for an inexpensive, easy-to-learn graphing calc?
Cá bhfuil tú, a ghrá?
Love this song (Possession, by Sarah McLachlan).
Opening night at the North Texas Irish Festival. Definitely less crowded than Saturday and Sunday, based on my memory. All the same music, with less crowded seating. Tonight I heard Abby Green, who sang in both Irish and English and did did a beautiful version of this song, Sarah Dinan, a gifted singer from Austin, and Needfire, who prove that bagpipes can indeed fit in to high-energy rock. All in all, a very nice evening. I can think of only one way that it could have been improved.
Now for some sleep. Gates open at 10:30 tomorrow.
A piece very appropriate to the times - written seventy years ago, but very much worth reading. Thanks to snowgirl for posting this.
Lá Breithe Sona Dom.
(There seems to be some disagreement over whether "Sona" or "Shona" is correct; I am going with "Sona" because an adjective modifying a masculine noun is not lenited in the nominative or accusative case, and this is clearly not dative or vocative, and does not seem to be genitive. Anyone who feels differently is welcome to speak up. (snowgirl?))
It seems appropriate that I started a new canister of tea today, after yesterday using the last of the Comfort and Joy tea that I bought just after Christmas. The new tea is Sip for the Cure Red Cherry White Tea. It's quite good, the subtle flavor of white tea complemented nicely by the cherry flavor, which is present but not overly so. The Republic of Tea company always makes very good tea; I've never been disappointed in one of their offerings. SolemnDragon got me started on white tea five years ago, and I like it very much (though it tends to be on the expensive side).
Birthdays nearly always find me in an introspective mood, and this one is no exception. Looking back over the last five years, my life has seen a lot of changes. Though there has been sadness, the changes have been overwhelmingly positive. Much of this was due to Koria's too-brief presence in my life, for which I am thankful every day. Experiences are not just what they appear to be; they are what we make of them.
There was an appropriate poem in my gmail inbox this morning, from the Panhala mailing list (poetry archive).
The Way
Friend, I have lost the way.
The way leads on.
Is there another way?
The way is one.
I must retrace the track.
It's lost and gone.
Back, I must travel back!
None goes there, none.
Then I'll make here my place,
(The road leads on),
Stand still and set my face,
(The road leaps on),
Stay here, for ever stay.
None stays here, none.
I cannot find the way.
The way leads on.
Oh places I have passed!
That journey's done.
And what will come at last?
The road leads on.
-- Edwin Muir
I thought this an interesting juxtaposition with the poem that was sent out yesterday:
The Future
For God's sake, be done
with this jabber of "a better world."
What blasphemy! No "futuristic"
twit or child thereof ever
in embodied light will see
a better world than this.
Do something! Go cut the weeds
beside the oblivious road. Pick up
the cans and bottles, old tires,
and dead predictions. No future
can be stuffed into this presence
except by being dead. The day is
clear and bright, and overhead
the sun not yet half finished
with his daily praise.
-- Wendell Berry
And last but not least, at the bottom of this page there is a song for the day (albeit two weeks early) (Lyrics). It's from Marc Gunn, one half of the now-defunct duo Brobdingnagian Bards. (MP3s on Amazon (the free MP3 link on the page is broken))
Beannactaí ar do lása!
Captured, in a photograph
In black and white
Her hair brushes her shoulders
as she leans to turn out the light
She's warm and you can feel her
But she can't feel you
No, she's just to numb to move
Captured, in a photograph
Without a frame
I see you standing tall
But I see no face to blame
And did she say she loved you
Well you know that's really nice
Because they say that when she cries
Her teardrops turn, they turn to ice
Let her feel the rain
Won't you let her feel again
Feeling through the pain
Won't you let her feel the rain
upon her face
Let her feel the rain
Won't you let her feel the rain
upon her face
Captured, in a photograph
Inside her eyes
She'll wrap you in a blanket
And then she'll tell you some lies
And you will kneel before her
In her altar in the trees
Because they say no matter who you are
She'll bring you to your knees
Let her feel the rain...
-- Tara MacLean
Are you ready
For me to be stronger
I'm keeping my distance,
My voice to a whisper
Are you ready
For me to surrender
'Cause I find in my return
There's no need to hide these words
'Cause maybe I'm no angel
But I feel like I could fly
And maybe there's no rainbow,
But my love for you still shines
And I want to,
I want to be endless
I want to be helpless,
I want to be true
Like a sunbeam,
The shadow's behind me
Sliding out of view,
Let me bring it home to you
Maybe I'm no angel
But I feel like I could fly
Maybe there's no rainbow,
But my love for you still shines
'Cause here I am,
Here I am
I've been running
Long enough to know
Here I am,
Here I stand
All this rung's got me
Longing in my soul
Longing in my soul
Maybe I'm no angel
But I feel like I could fly
Maybe there's no rainbow,
But my love for you still shines
Maybe I'm no angel
But I feel like I could fly
Maybe there's no rainbow,
But my love for you still shines
My love still shines...
-- Heather Nova
London Rain (Nothing Heals Me Like You Do)
I'm coming,
I'm coming home to you
I'm alive, I'm a mess
I can't wait to get home to you
To get warm,
Warm and undressed
There've been changes beyond my dreams;
Everybody wants me to sing
There've been changes beyond my grasp;
Things I'm sinking in
So keep me in your bed all day, all day
Nothing heals me like you do
Nothing heals me like you do
And when somebody knows you well
Well there's no comfort like that
And when somebody needs you
Well there's no drug like that
So keep me in your bed all day, all day
Nothing heals me like you do
So keep me in your bed all day, all day
Nothing heals me like you do
And where l'm home, curled in your arms
And I'm safe again
I'll close my eyes and sleep
To the sound of London rain
So keep me in your bed all day, all day
Nothing heals me like you do
Keep me in your bed all day, all day
Nothing heals me like you do
Nothing heals me like you do
Nothing falls like London rain
Nothing heals me like you do
Nothing falls like London rain
Nothing heals me like you do
Nothing falls like London rain
Nothing heals me like you do
-- Heather Nova
http://www.how-to-spell-its.com/ Is it not?
This was in a story submission, so I thought I ought to preserve it once it rolls off the front page.
Life and night are falling from me,
Death and day are opening on me,
Wherever my footsteps come and go,
Life is a stony way of woe.
Lord, have I long to go?
Hollow hearts are ever near me,
Soulless eyes have ceased to cheer me:
Lord may I come to thee?
Life and youth and summer weather
To my heart no joy can gather.
Lord, lift me from life's stony way!
Loved eyes long closed in death watch for me:
Holy death is waiting for me --
Lord, may I come to-day?
My outward life feels sad and still
Like lilies in a frozen rill;
I am gazing upwards to the sun,
Lord, Lord, remembering my lost one.
O Lord, remember me!
How is it in the unknown land?
Do the dead wander hand in hand?
God, give me trust in thee.
Do we clasp dead hands and quiver
With an endless joy for ever?
Do tall white angels gaze and wend
Along the banks where lilies bend?
Lord, we know not how this may be:
Good Lord we put our faith in thee --
O God, remember me.
-- Elizabeth Eleanor Siddal
Parting after parting,
Sore loss and gnawing pain:
Meeting grows half a sorrow
Because of parting again.
When shall the day break
That these things shall not be?
When shall new earth be ours
Without a sea,
And time that is not time
But eternity?
To meet, worth living for;
Worth dying for, to meet;
To meet, worth parting for,
Bitter forgot in sweet:
To meet, worth parting before,
Never to part more.
-- Christina Rossetti
i
"Pay no attention to the man behind the curtain." -- Karl, as he stepped behind the computer to reboot it, during a FAT