My Gran died. It was not unexpected she was after all 84 and had been in unwell for the last two years and on oxygen for the last 12mtns. She died at home on her bed in her room where she gave birth do all her 8 children. She was tired and worn out but thankfully not in a lot of pain.

She was rather pissed off when the pope died she really didn’t think that she would out live him. She didn’t think much of the new one. I do have things in common with her.
the same outspokenness and smutty sense of humour. She lived a hell of a live in a time
Of big changes in this country, she moved from Mayo to Dublin to be a children’s maid at the age of 16 and spent some time in service before she meet and married my Granddad who was 14 years older then her.

They had been on several dates when one day she got off the tram to meet him wearing of all things the latest fashion a trouser suit. My Granddad insisted that she get back on the tram and told her she would be waiting for her when she returned wearing a skirt that she
was no hussy and ladies wear skirts and he was to be the only one wearing trousers in this relationship. My Granddad died when I was 11 but even I do know that they loved each other dearly and she was looking forward to seeing him when she died.

My Mam is understandably upset but glad that Gran has finally gone and as much as she misses her would prefer that she went the way she did and won’t suffer the degrading decline which would have be her fate if she had of lived longer. My Mam spent 6 to 8 hours a day with my Gran and was her medical guardian so it is a loving burden that has been lifted.

The funeral will be after the bank holiday weekend. So well so much for avoiding my family after the fun of the wedding. I can’t not go to the funeral, I do infact want to go and be there and pay my respects. My ex wants to go too. He has been in my life and that of my family for the last 9 years. He liked my Gran and most of my family and extended
Family. It is understandable that my ex wants to be there for his own reasons.

But if my ex attends that will mean the person I am seeing most likely will not, as not to cause a fuss. He wants to go and be there for me and hold my and hug me and be supportive in all the ways that I need and that my ex will not and can not be; to let me know that I am not alone.

Tbh I want him there with me for my own selfish reasons.
He wasn’t at the wedding but damn it he is a part of my life and most likely will be
for a long time to come as a lover and a friend who will always be in my life.
Is it wrong to want to have someone there at your grandmother’s funeral that will comfort and console you?

Thankfully my ex’s mother is taking the kids for some of their midterm break, so they will be well cared for and away in wexford and not at the funeral.

Yes, so my blog got spamed with links to milf stuff.
Mindless spam, a prank or a compliment of sorts ?
I’m not quite sure but at least it was not body painted gay furrys.

They do they do indeed.
Tis not just the books you know.
They are pretty wonderful, ah the earliest form escapism, better then drugs,
No hangovers, socially acceptable; infact encouraged.
Lost of books that you can get a lend of and curl up and read and disappear into another world, into someone else’s head and see things differently for a while.
Trust me it works, go try read Clive Baker or Poppy Z Brite for a shock to your senses.

Growing up the eldest of 5 kids the library a mere 15 mins walk away become a sanctuary. It was quiet there. There were no screaming, squabbling, crying kids.
ESP if you got your book and snuck to sit at the table just inside the door to the adult library which was always closed and kept out the noise.

I could sit quietly and not be disturbed to mind anyone or force out to ‘play’.
This tactic never really interrupted my reading. I always had more then one book and
If eviction from the sitting room was pending there was already another book placed behind the curtain of the sitting room out of sight but with in reach from the outside of the sitting room window.

Ah yes libraries. The Blanchardstown library is a lot bigger then the on in finglas; where I grew up, yes part of me feel like I spent enough time there to consider it one of the places I grew up in. Lots and lots and lots of books and comfy seats and even more books. There are also computers.

The children’s section has many parts.

There is the nice desk where the lady sits and she has tubs of crayons and cool picture to be coloured in and if you ask she will let you pick a jigsaw but you can’t have it unless you promise to count the piece with her when you give it back.

There are nice kids sized table and chairs that grown up look silly in when they try to sit with you. Designed so that every Mammy’s bum look big when they sit on them
( even the castleknock unislim gold members Mammys 😛 )

There is a big notice board where you can stick up your picture if you don’t want to take it home as the fridge in the kitchen is utterly camouflaged or you want your glorious statement that the bear in the big blue house who is usually orange not blue can be purple like the otters Pip and Pop for a change.

There is the story circle where stories get read at appointed times or if a Mammy (or daddy or who ever is so foolish or brave) starts to read aloud they get an audience of little listening ears. This is also the sing a long circle but again only at appointed times.
Just because the last time you were there you got to do ‘If you are happy and you know it’ at the top of you little lungs does not mean you race to do a repeat performance every time you enter the library.

There are lots of funny wooden boxes painted different colours with large wooden animals on them, and they are created for holding all those kids stories books that are
Too tall, too wide, too floppy or strange to stay on a plain old book shelf.
An ordinary bookshelf could not constrain or restrain such books.
Each a treasure in it’s own right to be discovered and explored.

There is the Lego and stickle brick corner but really that is only for babies and little boys that have been fed too much sugar and both types end up only throwing the blocks and bricks.

Then there is ‘older’ section of the children’s library where are plain old book shelves but they are lower down hen the grown ups books; and the grown ups books are not as colorful. Here are books that are so good that even grow ups sometimes come to read them. This is the quieter part of the children’s library there are still games but at least
For the most part the chess pieces don’t get flung about the place.

There are chess lessons too, on Monday’s for an hour.

This my two off spring discovered having become bored of all the other delights
And came, running back to report what they had found among the big shelves and imploring to be allowed stay and play. Stay they did for an hour while a kindly gentleman
Explained the pieces and the rules. They sat and took it in and hardly fidgeted at all.
At seven you can sit and not fidget, harder when you are five and have learn the art of the theatrical wink and hand wriggles. I have informed they ‘have’ to go back next Monday.

It was great to see them happy there and it gave me a chance to have a look at what I guess it the kids self help section. There are lots of book on everything from a pet dying, moving house, a new baby to ‘What is splitting up? ‘ . Nice to know that those type of
books are there for parent to read with their kids and work through issues and get the parent to see things from a child’s point of view and let the child know it is not their fault
And that this has happened to other kids.

I also got to have a look at the notice board while the serious seven year old was explaining to the frivolous five year old that you don’t have to make a horse noise while moving your knight on the board, which causes her to pick up the piece and wonder if the knight fell off. Funny how time still flies when your in a library, where did those
Two hours go to. I reckon all libraries are magical even ones with out librarians that look like orange primates.
Ok one of them apparently is hairy enough to be a bear but that just ment we got to have another chat about personal remarks on the way home in-between playing I spy and wondering if they had books about volcanoes and why we don’t have any.

http://www.pocketfullofposiez.com

You Are Subversion!
You are systematic and secretive. Sometimes even very calculating. Most everyone trusts you but they have no idea what really goes on in your head. You are capable of being nice or mean, whatever a situation calls for. You look out for #1.

What Naughty My Little Pony Are You?

I took the most accurate villain personality test
created by: The Arch Villainess Gracie

Mim: With only a touch, I have the power
zim zaba rim bim, to wither a flower
I find delight in the gruesome and grim
‘Cause I’m the magnificent, marvelous, mad Madam Mim

I can be huge, fill a whole house
I can be tiny, small as a mouse
black sorcery is my dish of tea
(spoken) it comes easy to me
’cause I’m the magnificent, marvelous, mad Madam Mim!

I can be beautiful, lovely and fair
Silvery voice, long purple hair
la la la la, la la la la la la
la la la la la, la la la la la la
but it’s only skin deep
for zim zaberim zim
I’m an ugly old creep
The magnificent, marvelous, mad, mad, mad, mad Madam Mim!

dear, you are Bookish, aren’t you? You are a
highly intelligent and witty bluestocking,
whose beauty is hidden behind spectacles. Your
dress sense is eccentric and a little
unfashionable, and you consider yourself plain.
You have very little use for men, who find your
knowledge of Shakespeare, interest in politics
and forthright speech formidable. You are
undoubtedly well-off. The only reason for your
presence in a novel of this kind (which, I
might add, you would not dream of reading,
although you have occasionally enjoyed the
works of Miss Austen), is your mother, who is
absolutely determined that you will make a good
marriage. Rather than defying her directly,
you are quietly subversive, dancing with anyone
who asks you, but making no attempt to hide
your intellectual interests. The only person
who can get past your facade is the man who is
witty enough to spar with you, and be amused at
your blatant attempts to scare your suitors
away. While you will, no doubt, subject him to
a gruelling cross-examination to find out
whether his respect for your intelligence is
real or mere flattery, you may be sure that he
is your match, and that you, he AND your mother
will all live happily ever after

The Regency Romance Quiz: What kind of Romance Heroine are you?
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