Not in the clamor of the crowded street, not in the shouts and plaudits of the throng, but in ourselves, are triumph and defeat.--Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
REDIRECT ALERT! (Scroll down past this mess if you're trying to read an archived post. Thanks. No, really, thanks.)
Due to my inability to control my temper and complacently accept continued silliness with not-quite-as-reliable-as-it-ought-to-be Blogger/Blogspot, your beloved Possumblog will now waddle across the Information Dirt Road and park its prehensile tail at http://possumblog.mu.nu.
This site will remain in place as a backup in case Munuvia gets hit by a bus or something, but I don't think they have as much trouble with this as some places do. ::cough::blogspot::cough:: So click here and adjust your links. I apologize for the inconvenience, but it's one of those things.
Thursday, March 17, 2005
Happy Saint Patrick's Day!
Although, being descended from the savage heathen Ulster-Scots, I do feel it necessary in amongst my other, more usual, celebrations of the day (i.e., a big breakfast of Lucky Charms in a bowl of whiskey, followed by a loud rendition of "Danny Boy" whilst driving down the Interstate with the windows down, culminating in a streetcorner brawl so I can be taken to jail in a paddy wagon) to also work in a bit of orange just to tweak the noses of the Catholics.
I usually try to get the kids to go along with me and sneak in some orange as well, but Boy was resistant this year. He wore a green tee shirt and his big green flight jacket. No orange for Ashley, either, but Bec was certainly inventive-she wore her tie-dye shirt that has every conceivable color in it. Catherine is a special case this time. She has a "poetry coffeehouse" day today, in which she and the rest of her second grade chums invite their friends and relatives to come listen to them recite poems they (the kids, not the invitees) have written, all while sitting in the teacher's idea of a Beat-generation coffeehouse. Meaning, of course, that everyone was instructed to wear black. Man. So I fixed her up this morning in some hep-cat threads of a black soccer jersey and black sweatpants, but managed to work in the requisite colorful tidings of the day in the form of three ponytail holders--one each in green, white, and orange. She looked cute as a bug. Daddy-o.
I left this morning before I saw what Reba was wearing, which is fine, because I would rather see her in her underwear anyway. As for me? Well, I have an aversion to green because it looks bad on rotund men, but for some reason several years back my sister gave me an electric green dress shirt, with a tie that kinda matched the amperage level. Well, the shirt got carried back IMMEDIATELY, but the tie I kept. It's not really that bad, in that it does have a simple, regular diagonal pattern of tiny green on green diamond shapes, although still, it is a bit more blingy than my tastes. BUT, there is one day a year I can wear it without feeling like some sort of pimped-out leprechaun. Which is, today.
SO, Happy St. Pat's Day, and in honor of the day (as well as the Music-themed Thursday Three)--
The Corrs sisters! (Do any of you know how hard it is to find something without their Conan O'Brien lookalike brother!?)
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