Burns Supper at the Burren: despite the unwanted presence of hell-cold V.20, a success. We saw
nineweaving and
teenybuffalo and
choco_frosh and multiple people not on DW. My throat has not even faintly stopped hurting, but my voice held up for "John Barleycorn" and various choruses, including a plangent "Loch Lomond" by someone whose name I never get even though he reminds me each year of Odysseus in the Iliad, unprepossessing until he opens his mouth.
spatch and I went out in drizzling sleet and it was worth it. Now we are home and I am under an electric blanket and I feel this is the right place to be. P.S. There was haggis.
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Active Entries
- 1: All the ghosts, some old, some new
- 2: I make sure there are hidden messages in my work
- 3: I'll stay out until my mind is like a clear glass
- 4: The wind is blowing the planes around
- 5: I cannot feel it, the veil of black, a fine spray of white paint
- 6: Pilgrimage, private life, mortality
- 7: My dream house is a negative space of rock
- 8: Your spirit watched me up the stairs
- 9: No, I'll build a cute flower border
Style Credit
- Style: Classic for Refried Tablet by and
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