One of those days

Well, what a day. Got back to find out my godfather, God rest him, has died, so maybe I'm driving to Columbus Friday instead of playing the Rogues gig I was planning to (one blessedly free of both Dave the noisy crummy pianist and the other Dave the noisy slop guitar player from cowboy chord hell), to the funeral on Saturday, and driving back Sunday. Thus missing my friend John Hoban's yearly visit from Ireland almost completely. Oh well, these things are never timed as we'd have them.

Had today free, so decided it would be a good day to go to the Higgins Armory Museum in Worcester, Massachusetts. My mother had it free as well, so she decided to come along. And Mick Moloney played in Hartford tonight, which is on the way back, so we figured it would be perfect.

Well... left at noon, didn't get to Worcester until 4:30. The museum closes at 4:00. Buggery. The clever route trying to get round construction on I-84 turned out crummy (Mother blames herself, but I should've caught it as well), traffic was bad in places, and then on 290 from the Massachusetts Turnpike into Worcester there was some kind of accident, so everything was backed up to Niflheim. Frell!!!

Got to Hartford in time, at least. Had had a late lunch, weren't real hungry, stopped into a place called Tisane that looked like a coffee shop and turned out to be a bar in one half and a café in the other, with table service. Had good panini and summer rolls, though.

( Mick Moloney Concert mini-review )

Tous les rhinocéros du monde

Well, I guess I amn't going to Columbus for the funeral. Timing's impossible. It's a twelve hour drive to get there, and we'd essentially have to go to the funeral, turn round and drive twelve hours back. I told Mother I'd do it if she wanted to, but where would we put the dog? And my Da's off fishing somewhere in the wilds of Pennsylvania and can't be got ahold of easily. I hate not fulfilling duties like that, but there's nothing to be done about it.

Couldn't hardly sleep at all last night. Not this, I think, but just the emotional crap that's already going down. People don't make any fecking sense. At least not human people. Maybe I'm starting to understand the catgirl fetish at last. Sapient nonhuman humanoids probably make far more sense as objects of romance and affection. I wish some lived round here so I could meet them.

Poetry meme got from ataniell93

As started by silmaril and continued by dglenn and azurelunatic and mamadeb and ataniell93:

"When you see this, post a bit of poetry in your own journal."

"Duirt síad go raibh muid gan náir
Ag céiliúir ár ngrá
Agus an scríos seo inár dtimpeall."
--as Caitlín Maude, "Amhrán Grá Vietnam" (1969)

"They said we were shameless,
To celebrate our love,
With this ruin all around us."
--from Caitlín Maude, "Vietnam Love Song" (1969) (my translation)

Back from Pawling

Gig in Pawling went okay. They fed us (adequate pulled pork sandwiches, good corn chowder with plenty of thick cut bacon in it). Was horribly damp (my friend Bill daredn't play his wooden flute, only the low whistle), but tuning wasn't too unstable.

Mother was off to the airport by the time I got back. I'm glad she got to go; my godmother needs her friends muchly, and they've known each other for a long time (I'm 29. Do the math :-). I feel badly not having gone as well, but plane tickets just cost too much at such short notice for two of us to fly (if it's blood kin the airlines will reimburse you the last-minute-booking charges, but godparents don't count, according to them). And this way at least the dog doesn't have to board, and I'll get to see John.

More poetry meme

As started by silmaril and continued by dglenn and azurelunatic and mamadeb and ataniell93:

"When you see this, post a bit of poetry in your own journal."

Bhuail tú m'intinn
Nuair a bhuail mé leat
Mar claíomh mór solais.-----liomsa

You struck my mind
When I met you
Like a sword of light.-----mine