In French, you don’t really say “I miss you.” You say “tu me manques,” which is closer to “you are missing from me.”
I love that. “You are missing from me.” You are a part of me, you are essential to my being. You are like a limb, or an organ, or blood. I cannot function without you.
In German, same.
Du fehlst mir.
Or simply:
Du fehlst = You are missing.
So. When do we start making them?
:-)
getting this sign asap
I’d change the sign to:
If a dog poops in our yard, its owner will be sacrificed to satan.
Oh Brother, Where Art Thou?
1987. University College Galway. Freedom.
Two people I encountered, who have remained in my memory from that time, were from the North of Ireland. One a priest in training. One a Franciscan friar in training. Neither had taken their final vows. A fact that the trainee priest took full advantage of. A drinking, swearing, but lovable, flirt. Who went to the trouble of explaining to me how to make a Molotov cocktail. Apparently, one of his school teachers was quite a fan of educating his students in the practical aspects of living in the North.
Brother John Wright was a different story. A quiet, intelligent guy with a great sense of humor. He was a nice person to be around. Curious, I asked why he had chosen to become a friar and he said it was what he had always wanted to do. I then asked him if he wasn’t worried he would feel that he had missed out on a partner and a family. He did admit it was hard sometimes, but even though he would like a wife and family, his love for God was stronger. I am not a believer, but his quiet faith and great honesty impressed me.
The 80’s were pretty tough in Ireland. My budget for the week was 30 Irish pounds, 12 of which went on rent and 10 on a shared kitty for food. That left the grand total of IR£8 for everything else. But everyone was in the same boat, and we often borrowed a couple of pounds from each other to make it to the end of the week.
Back then, we still had the actual one-pound notes, not the coins that were circulated in 1990. Green, well-worn, and crinkly.
And one day, John had to borrow a pound from me, which he promised to pay back the next week, at one of our lectures.
I forgot about it.
Seven days later, we were in a lecture hall, filled with over 300 eager first years. In the back row; John on the very right and I, who arrived too late to get a seat with my friends, was on the far left. Seated between us were about 25 people. He stood up and called my name. Everyone turned to look at him, and then me. He gave something to his neighbor, who in turn gave it to the person sitting beside him. The object was passed along twenty-five pairs of hands and curious eyes.
My pound note.
John cupped his hands and shouted “FOR SERVICES RENDERED!”, gave me and the students in the auditorium an outrageous wink, and then sat down.
Everyone laughed. Including me, though I was also as red as a beetroot.
And that was John.
I lost track of him after that first year, but the memory of him still makes me smile.
I wonder where you are now.
County Clare by Bela Fleck….short burst..from your truly
Fabulous.
Did I mention I’m from County Clare?
Chilling out in a restaurant.
This is the view; the village May pole.
No work tomorrow.
This is the life :)
It’s a Wonderful Life
“How can you what’s like on the ground
When you live in the sky?
Talking about how people should live
And how people should die?”
Extract
The Williams Brothers - It’s a Wonderful Life
Not the gospel band.
When I google them, I come up with nothing.
I met them once in Dublin; two brothers. They even signed their album for me,:. but they seemed to have disappeared …
MrWordsWorth - help!
