Thankfully, the Irish possess a great sense of humor and aren’t easily offended…
They don’t really drink that much here, especially compared to other European countries. And hey, they can’t help it that they produce the best beer in the world, now can they?
We NEEEEEEED to sell our house!! Obviously, we’re blessed enough not to be underwater on our mortgage, but if our house is unsellable and therefore not worth anything- is that really true?
I’m not much for asking for help, but we need you to spread the word and help us sell this thing before we move home. I say “thing” but if you’ve been to our home, you know it isn’t some horrible house. It’s actually a great house. We had many happy years there and now it someone else’s turn to enjoy it.
I know I’ve asked before and you think you can’t help- but you can!! You never know who may know someone who is looking to buy in Atlanta. Tell your coworkers, your friends, post it on Facebook, Twitter, on your own blog or put up a billboard. Really, we’re happy for any help.
Click on the picture to see the new website giving details on the house and neighborhood repost, repost, repost!!
Thank you!!!!!
Little paper stealth fighter I made to adorn the birthday card for our friend’s 2 year old…
I’m no origami master and it actually took me forever to make this plane. The thing is, this 2 year old isn’t my biggest fan, so I’m doing what any right-minded adult would do and trying to bribe him into liking me.
We ended up staying in Dublin last weekend. We had planned to drive to Cork and go kiss the Blarney stone. You know, because we didn’t the last time we were here and every single person asked us “Did you kiss the Blarney stone?'” so I thought it would be a good idea to get that one checked off. We are planning to go this weekend.
We ended up staying because a. Jules needed to work, b. she’s exhausted from working so much and c. see a. and b. We relaxed and watched movies or I watched movies while she worked and just enjoyed being alone and bumming around Dublin together. We ate Indian twice and I finally found a new pair of sunglasses, actually 2 pairs, after searching for a year (I never said I wasn’t picky) so all in all it was a pretty good weekend.
There isn’t much we haven’t done in Dublin, but on the way home from lunch on Sunday I did take the Wife over the ha’penny bridge…
It was designed by the same company that designed the Titanic and used to be a toll bridge. It cost a half penny to cross which is where they got the shortened “ha’penny” name.
Sunday began rainy and dreary, but ended up being a lovely day…
I do really love this city.
We went back to the Arlington Hotel for a night of traditional music and folk dancing. The dancers paled in comparison to the ones we saw last year, but I seriously loved this guy playing the uilleann pipes…
The uillean is one of just three native instruments from Ireland including the bodhran (smallish Irish drum) and the harp. Uillean means elbow in Irish which points out the major difference between these and the Scottish bag pipes.
Incredibly complicated to play with pumping air with your elbow, playing the whole flute-y part and all the while adjusting the sound with the back of your hand makes that sweet, sweet sound coming from them that much more amazing.
While he was playing I kept thinking about Braveheart, which was weird because that’s set in Scotland. Well, turns out the theme song uses the uillean pipes, not the Scottish bag pipe. Just another reason to dislike that disgusting bigot, Mel Gibson. Not that I needed another. Although I do want to point out that Braveheart predates my Mel Gibson ban so I’m still allowed to love it, which I do.
Typical Irish day on my way back from St. Stephan’s Green. It’s funny to me how grey skies get me down everywhere but here.
Finally got around to cleaning out the videos from my point and shoot. This one is from the light and music show at the Contemporary Arts Festival in Buzios, Brazil…
We had a hard time describing it to people, video projected onto the side of the building with a dj and lots of people dancing in the square…this was all I managed to record though. It was a fun night.
I’ve been yapping to the Wife about wanting to get chickens when we move home for a few years now. I want a couple of backyard hens and enjoy our own fresh, organic eggs. It has been an uphill battle and although she finally agreed at some point last year, she’s now backtracking and pretending not to remember saying yes. I think this was her plan all along. Tell me yes so I’ll shut up about them and then as we get close to moving home, play dumb. I’ve got your number, Wife. I’ve got it.
The Wife actually hates all birds. In all honesty, she has good reason. Birds always seem to attack her…there was that bird that flew out of a hanging flower basket on our old porch that pecked her in the head when she watered the plants, the giant crane that did a “don’t you even think about passing by me” dance and beak stabbing that had her trapped for a good 10 minutes at an animal park, and I’ll never forget looking back for her while walking in the Australian Outback and seeing her running and flailing her arms in the air as a black and white magpie was dive bombing her in the head. The feeling is a mutual one, I suppose.
We were sitting outside the Louvre last Friday and this guys walks hobbles up…
I know it looks awful, but it was obviously an old injury amputation and he seemed fine. The Wife, however, took one look at him and turned to me almost tearfully and said “Oh no, the poor baby! I need a cracker for him!!”- I didn’t have a cracker, but if I had I would have gladly given it to him. Not for being a gimp pigeon, because I'm not a fan of those little begger birds, missing foot or not. No, I would have gladly given him a whole sleeve of saltines because he gave me such a brilliant idea. All I need to do now is find some slightly disabled chickens.
Organic omelets, here we come.
I think Paris wins the prize for the most entertaining subways…
This guy did a whole puppet show. Unfortunately, we were behind his makeshift screen and missed the actual performance.
The puppet routine was to the song Wooly Bully which prompted Frenchie to ask what that actually meant, which prompted me to look it up. Seems the guy who wrote it wanted to write a song about the Hully Gully dance (a line dance in the 60’s) but couldn’t use those words since there was another song with the same name. His cat was named Wooly Bully so he went from there.
Look at that- a random photo and a random fact for you today. Don’t say I never gave you anything.
