Happy Earth Day! Go Clean a River

I feel that cabin fever beginning to fall away from my aura. The gentle sound of a small running stream in my front yard has me longing to get out and paddle. I'm taking ol' blue to the local pool and I'm going to practice rolling my kayak this weekend. I am so happy that spring has finally arrived. Hurray Spring! I hope I can inspire some friends to Clean a River and pull tires with me. Get out and clean a river.

My Clock is out of Alignment

Maybe it's just me but I feel like my clock is out of alignment. Being a tree hugging dirt worshipper I am always looking for ways to conserve energy but daylight saving time 3 weeks early has put me 1 hour out of alignment with the space time continum.

The world seems slightly out of focus, I never know what time it really is, it feels like 5 o'clock but the computer says it is 6o'clock... wait this clock won't update is it 4 o'clock, 5 o'clock, 6 o'clock or 7o'clock? I don't know ... my clock is out of alignment.

The universe has gotten quiter, as if it is moving on borrowed time. I went into a meeting today at work and sat in the conference room for a good 25 minutes, turns out I was there for 1 hour and 25 minutes. I showed up a hour late because my Lotus notes calendar has some crazy bug, brought on by trying to move daylight savings time ahead by 3 weeks. Don't we trust the tides to guide us, are we so advanced that we now can alter time, 3 weeks early? How much energy are we saving, will I get a refund check?

My Blasted Irish Roots

As I sit here getting ready to celebrate my Irish roots in honor of St. Patrick, (thanks for chasing all the blasted snakes out of the motherland!), I find meself pondering where all my creative, craziness, and wanderlust came from. Carbombs and Guiness tonight, a toast to chasing the snakes out of Ireland... Kiss me I'm Irish.

Ah yes, I used to love to sit and listen to dad's mother talk.. Grandma Joyce.. what a pistol. She was so Irish, when she spit it was green. (Thinking back on things, that was probably not to healthy) She was a wee bit of woman, nearly 5 feet tall when she wasn't hunched over her balcony, spitting down at the blasted youngsters who would mock her for thinking she could beam down the sun with her blasted mood rock. I sometimes thought she actually could, beam down the sun... sometimes when the light hit the colorful mood rock.. a briliant light display occured and yes, maybe...

Her favorite word was -blasted. She could spin a colorful web of blasted babbel so strange that one had to stop and listen just to make sure the universe was still there. She was my first introduction to real life engineer.. she truly thought different.

I remember many summer nights, I would see her outside in her blasted garden.. dancing and singing some blasted Irish song, happy that she finally beamed the blasted sun down... I give her credit, whenever she spun a crazy yarn, she always made it manifest and it always made me feel like anything is possible. She after all was capable of beaming down the sun, once a day.

Happy St. Patrick's Day, where ever your blasted spirit is grandma.. give 'em hell!