Sara’s Wedding Day

Simply put it was fantastic. Here are a few of the many hundred photos taken during the day. They were sent to me by family and friends. I would add a big thank you to everyone who helped make us look good,and everyone who attended the wedding.

Early Morning – Not exactly chaos, just busy

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We were momentarily side tracked by Bob who had to have his say:

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Finally we left for the ceremony, and it was hard not to cry with delight…

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A Muddled Tale

An interlude in which Always-Right-Knight has his say.

 

I love the witch. I cannot explain it.  For a witch she is sassy, sexy and all woman.

Despite my golden-haired, blue-eyed appearance, I do lack confidence with women in particular diva witches. And this poses a problem in my pursuit of the Scrumptious witch.

I have spent days writing the perfect Sonnet. Then I climbed to the top of Hill top peak to pick the bluest flower I could find. Finally I snagged some purple label freshly brewed beer, the one that sparkles and crackles.

Armed with my gifts I trudged about the town searching for her. I was tired, not thinking of anything but her when I happened upon her.  I am human and the sight of a near naked witch with a body worth dying for was too much for me. I jumped in and then zap I found myself in a dark place of dreams and nightmares.

When I awoke it was to discover the world had moved on, my diva was no more and I was in an alien place. Giant man-made dragons and machines roared across the sky and land. The place stank like no other. The houses were like palaces. Towers of glass and teeming hordes of people fill this place.

Strange to say, I love it. Better still they love me.

 

Maria’s – A Muddled Fairy Tale – Part 2.

Scrumptious Witch.  My side of the tale.

When those three moaning, tiresome knights, kept knocking on my door asking for favors I could not give, I became a little sick and tired of them.

After all when a  pretty, blonde and intelligent witch is trying to snag a Prince Charming having three dolts hanging around her hut is not exactly saying “come and get me” to every available prince, is it?

They were following me or so it seemed. Everywhere I looked there they were. Even when I nipped out late one evening to find come beetle juice there they were: one hopping on his armor the other moaning about being beaten and the third stemming the flow of blood from another self-inflicted injury during a jousting match.

I pretended to brush my hair while sitting not to far away and listened to them. It was apparent they were useless. They would always be moaning and groaning. Something drastic had to be done.  If I was to push them onto another witch I would need help or a really sneaky spell.

I decided if I solved their problems, I would be rid of them but that might make me famous. And then I would have every ruddy knight on the planet camped outside my door.

If the path to a hut containing treasure (me) is blocked by a mountain of knights it would not be enticing to a handsome Prince.

My solution was simple. It happened in a moment of  blinding revelation. I needed to stash them somewhere safe. And in return for their removal I would give them each a gift.

This last bit took some time. Gifts are not something to be bandied about, and this is what I came up with:

Lazy whose armor was always the grottiest would be transformed into an ultra clean cleaner, seeing dirt where no one else could.

Grouchy’s temper would vanish. His anti social side would morph into a person who loves to entertain.

Sleazy lack of interest in everything would turn around. He would become a person needing an answer.

So the spell was cast. I took my time and put them in a deep sleep, they would only be awakened when the world was in need of knights big and small once again.

Unfortunately for me while I was doing the spell that big-headed oaf, Always-Right-Knight stumbled upon me in full moon light dance and chant mode. He wished to join me so he too joined their party. But I was cautious.  I removed him a distance from the others and decided not to meddle with an already arrogant overbearing idiot.

In my defense we were in need of three good solid supports for the bridge and guess who found them?

Yes. Me.

Hopefully the future world will be an amazing place where knights will be true honest and happy.

Bob’s Diary: Tips on how to be a better dog (Top Dog).

1, Always be polite, (Don’t snarl.)

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2. Smile often , they love that.

 

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3.  Practice the how to gain sympathy look.

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It will Pay off.

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Bob’s Diary: Wet

It has been a wet week but this is Ireland and summer is coming so what else can we expect?

I have been busy, found some new routes through a well-known wood.

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I thought you might like to see them.ipp

I was getting a little wet and tiredipp

so lucky for me we found a place to shelter. (I was supposed to be taking care of her tennis ball, Ellie was off chasing a rainbow? )

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The debate now is what color curtains will we put up?

 

 

No Monsters Allowed.

Jessie was hiding under a chair. A shadow was chasing her.

“The monster can’t crush me here,” she whispered.

“‘Yes I can.” He roared.

Jessie raced into the kitchen shivering.

“Come on Jessie let’s go to the park.” Granddad said. Bob, her dog,  began to jump and bark.

“Wait till I put my coat on, Bob,” Jessie whispered looking around, searching for the monster. She didn’t want to be crushed.  A tear rolled down her face. Bobs sloppy tongue licked it off making Jessie giggle.

Bob walked with Jessie close to Granddad and Granny.

In the park Granddad went to get ice cream. Granny sat in the sun.

Climbing into the playhouse, Jessie felt safe. Bob was sitting beside her so there was no room for a monster.

“Jessie are you ok?” Granny asked.

“Yes. It’s nice here, try it Granny!”

“I’d get stuck in the door. Then you and Granddad would leave me.”

Jessie peeped out. “Oh Granny, I’d never do that.”

Granny smiled, “You might not, but Granddad would”

Granddad walked up to them carrying icecreams. He said, “One for you, Granny, and one for me.” He scratched his head, ” Was someone else looking for an ice-cream?”

Jessie giggled. Climbing out of the pipe she said, “Me, Granddad.”

“Who is this me?”

Skipping over to him she said, “Jessie.”

Bob was drooling. Great lumps of blob were hanging from his mouth.

“Thank you Granddad. But Bob is sad,” Jessie said. She stuck her finger in her ice cream and Bob licked her finger.

“It’s ok Bob. I have one for you.” Pulling a tub of ice cream from his pocket Granddad placed it on the ground. Bob looked at Jessie.

“Eat it up Bob.” She said. He did.

Jessie noticed a shadow looming behind her.

“You are tiny. I could swallow you in one gulp,” the monster shouted. He was huge, blocking out the sun. Jessie began to shake.

Bob was barking. Granddad said, “Stop, Bob.”

Huffing and grunting Bob moved closer to Jessie. She bent down to him and sat with her hands about the dog’s fluffy neck.

Later that afternoon Granddad handed Jessie a packet of crayons. “I am going to draw fairies and pixies but not leprechaun’s. They frighten me.”

“But, you are not afraid of anything, even spiders.”

Granddad said, “Do you want to know a secret? I’m afraid of lots of things especially nasty leprechauns.”

“Why?” Jessie asked.

“They want to take me away but I have a secret weapon – it’s a magic circle locking them out.”

“What is it Granddad?”

Granddad said, “Love! Leprechauns don’t understand love because their world is nasty. They don’t have you, Granny and Bob to love them.”

Jessie thought about all the nice things the monster couldn’t understand.

Granddad showed Jessie his drawing.

She laughed. “You drew funny coloured shapes Granddad.”

“They are fairies sprinkling butterflies everywhere. What did you draw?”

“You, Granny, Mum, Dad, and lots and lots of Bobs,” she whispered.

“Who will we bring to the park next time?” Granddad asked.

Jessie smiled and said, “We will, Bob and me. But no monsters allowed!”

 

A prisoner beneath Tara of the High Kings

Macha, The Morrigu, a witch, a warrior of legends long past. She is a prisoner  in the valley beneath the shadow of the sacred mountain of Tara where High Kings flourished, fought and died.

Time means nothing to Macha. Years slip by her, as do the many who come out of curiosity to visit the ancient site at Tara. They wish to catch a glimpse of an ancient magical atmosphere to help them create a better vision of what had been.

Macha pays them no heed for mirroring their curious state will only wreck havoc with her energy levels. She knows what she is: an unseen shadow lurking behind the tiny hillock that Tara has become.

She delights in her dreams, filled of greatness, people and feats. She longs to hear the battle cries, the demented wailing of those mourning. To smell the air after battle, acrid and heavy with the stench of death.  A time like no other, she chortles.

The present holds no meaning for her unless she is handed the key to her freedom. Thinking of this her much sought,  promised freedom brings far too great a pain for her. She knows it will happen, but when? The words roll around her mind.

She drifts for a second or is it centuries? Here time has lost all meaning to her. Despite her intentions, entombed in this non-existent world of hers a tiny hope flares. If only he would come, she muses on that ecstatic moment when her freedom will erupt like a fountain eager to catch its first glimpse of all above the crust of the earth.

This freedom, which this ancient druidess craves holds so much promise and here she stops her dreaming, freedom is beyond her comprehension after so many years of captivity.

This state of captivity irritates her. These binding unseen chains of magic which keeps her trapped in the depths of the earth.  Here there is darkness but not solitude for the earth spinning on its axis is like a tired old machine and deep within its mechanical depths it grinds and groans in an ever ending interlinked spiral made of hope and despair.

Since her birth Macha was enchanted by stories. Tales of human accomplishments and disasters are her favourite, languages are another and she longs to hear her native tongue spoken again.  When I was young…. The words only remind her of her useless state and she resorts to humour. Oh’ how fickle we are when youth holds us in its enthusiastic grasp, she chortles. Tired now from all the, what iffing she succumbs to the mind numbing darkness muttering her mantra, “I will be ready for you when you set foot on Tara, I will know.”

The Dragon’s Secret. (Children’s story)

Finn hated being the smallest dragon in his village.

If I can’t be big then I will be famous. I will be a magician, Finn thought.

He gave magic a try. He set his magician’s hat on fire.

Finn tried hip-hop dancing.

“I’m dizzy” he moaned bumping into his mum. The pot of potatoes she was carrying, flew high into the air and landed on his dad’s foot.

With a roar dad flew into the sky and returned with a piece of a cloud. He wrapped his burning foot in the cloud.

Finn tried singing. “He sounds like a fire alarm,” mum said. Finn stopped singing when the lolly pop factory burned down.

“I’ll be a champion swimmer,” he said jumping into the pond. He splashed about so much he emptied the pond. Finn was followed home by a row of squawking, honking, homeless ducks and swans.

“If I were the biggest dragon then no one would laugh at me.”  He moaned.

Finn ate more vegetables, and exercised everyday but he didn’t grow.

Granddad went to visit Finn. “I know how you can be as big as a house.”

Finn asked, “why doesn’t everyone do it?”

“Because their surname is not Nogard” Granddad said. Bending close to Finn he whispered the secret of how to become a large dragon.

“I don’t think I could do it.” Finn said with a shake of his head.

“Don’t think Finn – just do it.”

Finn flew high into the blue sky searching for a cloud.  It was hard work beating his wings.

He remembered Granddad’s words,” keep going especially when you feel you can’t.”

Finn found a perfect small cloud.

He wrapped a silver thread around it by flying in a circle close to the cloud. He counted as he went, “one, two, three, four…” On the thirty third circle a large rumble shook the sky, followed by a flash of lightening.

Finn was thrown to the waiting stars.

“A dragon to play with,” the stars cried bouncing him between them.

The noise brought the other dragons out of their homes. “Where is Finn, how did he disappear?”  They watched the sky and waited.

“He’s gone,” sobbed mum.

“He will be back perhaps we have time for tea,” Granddad said.

Everyone agreed. Tea and cakes were eaten before they heard a light whooshing noise. It grew louder until it became a rumble like a jet plane.

High in the sky they spotted a swooping, diving spot growing bigger.

“It’s Finn,” Granddad said. Everyone began to cheer as Finn came to land.

Finn smiled and spewed flames into the sky.

Looking at his mum he said, “sorry I will need a bigger house.”

She just squeezed his foot, “it’s nice to have you back, I’ll go make an extra large dinner.”

Granddad said, “You will go down in our village history as being the largest dragon in the realm.”

And this was only the beginning of Finn’s fame, for he returned to the land of giants on many more occasions.

Bob’s Diary: The Lighthouse Award.

We are all smiling (Kevin included,) because belsbror has kindly awarded us :

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If you are looking for a short post that will put a smile on your face check out belsbror’s site. I enjoy his anecdotes especially: I like it Hot

The accompanying rules and guidelines for this award are:

  1. Display the Award certificate on your blog.
  2. Write a post and link back to the blogger that nominated you.
  3. Inform your nominees of their award nominations
  4. Share three ways that you like to help other people.
  5. There is no limit to the number of people that you can nominate.
  6.  HAVE FUN!!!

Three ways we like to help others people

1.  Training Ellie for search and rescue work.

2.  Volunteering as an athletics coach

3. Volunteering on a committee which might help others find or create work.

There is a fourth (Bob’s idea): to give cuddles to kids and help put a smile on peoples faces.

Those I would like to nominate are:

http://esthernewtonblog.wordpress.com/

http://lifein64squarefeet.com

http://letitcomefromyourheart.wordpress.com

http://patinspire.org

http://rubytheblacklabrador.wordpress.com

http://dcardiff.wordpress.com

http://gettingbitzyfit.wordpress.com

http://miartedoris.wordpress.com

http://lisalanserrose.com

http://friendlyfairytales.wordpress.com

http://rachelmankowitz.wordpress.com

http://autisticandproud.wordpress.com

http://advocatemmmohan.wordpress.com

http://hillsofherchastity.wordpress.com/

http://thosewhofeedthebirds.wordpress.com

http://colliesofthemeadow.wordpress.com

http://irenewaters19.wordpress.com

http://solopress2.wordpress.com

Race Day: a true tale witnessed by me,

Annie was hopping about. The mat on the ground was nice and soft.  “Good to bounce on”, she muttered, bouncing about.

This was Race Day. She had to win. She knew she could. She was fast. Even Jill, the tall girl standing beside her, said so. Annie liked Jill but she wanted to beat her to the line.

Annie’s palms were sweating. Her mouth was dry. Somewhere in the stand was her mum, dad, grannies and granddad’s along with most of her family. But she couldn’t think of them.

The man with the whistle was telling them to pay attention and get ready. She didn’t know if she liked him, she couldn’t see his eyes they were hidden under a huge peaked cap. Seeing people’s eyes was a deciding factor for Annie, because you knew by their eyes what they were thinking.

Annie was ready. They had practiced in the back garden and at school. Annie always won.

“Get set!” His voice boomed at her.

Annie faced the rippling tape at the end of the track. It looked very far away. She took a deep breath. The whistle blew.

Annie ran. She pushed her legs out as far as she could. She stared at that line. Tongue out, heart racing, it was getting nearer.

She was halfway down the track when she heard a shout, ” Come on Annie!”
Annie risked a peep to her right. There they were, Mum , Dad, her brothers and sisters, everyone. They were shouting her name. She stopped and squinted at them. They were shouting something at her and waving their arms. She waved back. She felt good. But then she heard the other runners catching up on her. She shouldn’t have stopped, should she? Annie felt afraid, so afraid she couldn’t move. Then she heard someone else say “Come on Annie, why did you stop!”

Taking hold of her hand, Jill looked down at Annie and smiled.
Together they trotted through the tape.

 

Note:

I have had the privilege of witnessing many events like this at Special Olympics, and my main stream athletes who came to assist on the day  were blown away by the fun and competition.