My mother used to decorate our home for the festive season with paperwhites, so their perfume brings me memories of a warm home, festive cookies being baked, and our name days and birthdays being celebrated.
As for zinias, they are so open hearted and colourful.
Hello dear friends,
I hope you are all having a good time, especially those of you celebrating Thanksgiving. It is such a wonderful opportunity to be Thankful to God for all the good that He surrounds us with.
I have been silent for a few days. Some of my posts were posted in advance. We have been busy at the shop planning for an upocoming party for our customers' kids on December 15.
We are going to paint pillow cases together, read Christmas stories, eat some pies and drink some of our bio wine.
However, things are not always easy and rarely go as planned, as you all know.
In the past week I have been experiencing heavy menstrual bleeding. I spoke with my OB yesterday and he gave me some blood tests to do, and take it from there. I know I have some fibroids lurking and I am very scared of what maybe going on.
Dedicated to the hateful money lenders and warmongers toying with Greece, now Ireland, and probably Portugal and Italy.
Kiss My Irish Ass Lyrics
Oh the churchbells are ringin' in the schoolyard,
And we all went out those days
The bully said "Mick would you fancy a rumble?"
I said "Yes, it's time to play!"
Oh the nuns and the priests they grabbed their Rosaries
As they pulled our bodies apart
The bully said "Mick you lost the fight, but you've gained my respect!
You fight with so much heart!"
We're as stubborn as mules
With our blood on fire
When we ain't at Sunday mass
We'll look any man straight in his eyes and say
Kiss my Irish ass!
You better kiss my Irish ass!
Oh the husbands and wives, they had a neighborhood pack
They called the Mackeys white trash behind our backs (White Trash!)
I was way too young to understand that
But if I did, I'd given it right back
Oh me dad, he'd be drunk on the lawn,
Yelling and screaming like he do
But sometimes my old man felt what he was feeling,
Sometimes Mr. Mackey spoke the truth
We're as stubborn as mules
With our blood on fire
When we ain't at Sunday mass
We'll look any man straight in his eyes and say
Kiss my Irish ass!
You better kiss my Irish ass!
Oh me grandpa passed through Ellis Island,
From the greatest of the Motherlands
For he worked, provided for his family
He was a dedicated welding man
And he knew right from wrong like day and night,
He could whip any fool in a bareknuckle fight
He talked of country like he preached of God,
One hell of an Irishman!
We're as stubborn as mules
With our blood on fire
When we ain't at Sunday mass
We'll look any man straight in his eyes and say
Kiss my Irish ass!
You better kiss my Irish ass!
Oooohh, I'm of a distant relation to John Redman,
He was one of the greatest Irish Rebels of his day
One bastard to another, on down the line
And this is what my son will say:
We're as stubborn as mules
With our blood on fire
When we ain't at Sunday mass
We'll look any man straight in his eyes and say
Kiss my Irish ass!
We're as stubborn as mules
With our blood on fire
When we ain't at Sunday mass
We'll look any man straight in his eyes and say
Kiss my Irish ass!
You better kiss my Irish ass!
One thing I like about memes is that they make me more aware of what is going on around me. Not just the ones I want to see, like the fallen leaves, but what is there that I do not pay attention to.
by Jane Brocket, which is one of my desert island books. I run to it again and again for inspiration on all things domestic.
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