We had a jolly time this evening - playing my husband's prize stash of Irish recordings. The Clancey Brothers. He knows all the words to all the songs (except for the Gaelic ones) so after a few beers he sang along and Dad and I toasted the songs with glasses of hearty Guinnessstaut - okay I probably spelled that wrong, but it was very dark beer (ick) with a picture of a harp on its label - cool.
Then we watched my old tape of River Dance - it completely blew me away when I first saw River Dance, but now, it sort of bored us. Then my hubby sang some more - he's Irish. He can understand Irish Brogue and I cant make heads or tails of it! When I met his grandmother (born in Ireland) I could not understand a word she was saying - and she was speaking English! I've never lived that down. :-)
Well, I played along and served up a real Irish seven-course feast - as my hubby says "a boiled potato and a six-pack of beer" - ha ha. But really, I made a great corned beef with boiled cabbage, potatoes and carrots. This was followed by a huge, Irish Soda Bread, enough for an Irish army. It was a very satisfying meal. The only thing missing was Irish Coffee. I know, the meat, beer and soda bread were not on my ms diet - but I didn't have much of it. Really.
Today my Dad got to his doctors appointment without incident. But later, when he departed the doctor's office he got into trouble. You see, he left the doctors without realizing he had to locate the taxi that brought him there and he forgot where they were to meet! He didn't have a cell phone and the office was closing for the day. So he wandered around and didn't see the taxi. That's when he prayed. He got a message to go down a flight of exterior stairs, which he would never normally do. He went down, and there was the taxi driving towards him, just like, as he said to me, "a miracle!" I should mention that I had been praying for him, as this was one of his first sojourns out alone since coming to live with us.
It was a good day for me too. My doctor was very nice for a change and the fact that I didn't follow all his directions ended up not being a big deal at all. I get another chance. Oh great.
There is something nostalgic about St Patricks for, being a retired harpist, I remember the many times I played in restaurants playing Danny Boy and such for jolly party goers. I always wished I was one of them and not the having- to- stay- sober- musician, so now I have my wish. Interesting. What do they say, be careful what you wish for, you just might get it. I wouldn't mind it, if I didn't have being the music to compare it to. It might not be that bad being a party goer. I can even learn how to sing with the Clancey Brothers, "Whiskey you're the devil, you're leading me astray." I wish I liked to drink, but I don't, I really don't. My next wish is that I actually could LIKE going to parties - instead of thinking where I'd rather be.
I'm a spiritual person having a physical experience who enjoys being a witness to the everyday miracles of life. A metaphysical healer who's also a housewife and a harpist, and caregiver to an elderly relative. Mother of two wonderful grown children; wife to a wonderful man. I also like to write, read, tend a prolific herb garden, and dream of the day there is a cure for MS. I am open minded, and a revolutionary for old fashioned values. Essentially, I am an enigma...