Kissing the Blarney Stone

Here I am, kissing the Blarney Stone at Blarney Castle in Ireland. It's supposed to give you the gift of gab--or, more specifically, the gift of eloquence.

With my fear of heights, being held like this (note ground five stories below this open space with only a few bars to stop your fall) made my palms sweat and made me weak-kneed. But I did it!

Then I got up and the holder said, "Nobody got a photo of you. You need to do this again," and I couldn't believe that...'cause they were rushing people through. His buddy (who took this photo) kept saying, "I can't make this camera work," so I hung there for almost a minute. He got two photos, but all I could thing was, that if this was supposed to give me eloquence, it ties in to being a writer and kissing the Blarney Stone was exactly like trying to get published: they leave you hanging!

sort of a panic...

Woke at 4:50 with a panic of all I have to do today, so I just got up and started. Now all I still have to grade are three late research papers (yippee), put stuff in D2L, grade whatever was late in my drop boxes online. Then: attend retirement breakfast, submit grades, buy a watch, mow my lawn, do laundry, pack for the British Isles (!!or rather, start packing!!), get my hair roots colored, plant onions, play with Freya, shower, march in graduation. jeez. Nothing much. I can't wait to get back from England and just live (meaning write, do Freya stuff, and ride my bike) during the day.

This morning

I was in the shower and suddenly Freya jumped into the bathtub, in the shower with me. Quite a shock, that is, with a giant puppy and a cold wet nose, and the puppy herself takes up almost the entire bathtub. There was no room for me. But it was very funny.