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Profile Information

Gender: Female
Home country: US
Current location: retired to MidWest
Member since: Mon Feb 18, 2013, 10:15 PM
Number of posts: 6,151

About Me

Still an ardent Irish-American Catholic damnYankee Yellow Dog Democrat socialist after all these years. (cue Simon music) Army brat and wife for many years, now have been on the loose far longer than I was married. After my two red chows died, I took in a mini-beagle cross that I named Molly Maguire, thinking she might need a good Irish name like my original real one. Later she got a baby sister, a smooth-coat JRT I named Brigid after the greatest of the ancient Celtic goddesses. My great-grandfather and his son fought for Michael Collins and barely made it out of Ireland one step ahead of John Bull. They slipped over to Wales for new identities and then forward to the States for a fresh start. That makes me second generation of illegal but certainly justified immigrants. There are precious few people to whose defense I fly immediately, but the list includes Hillary Clinton, President Barack Obama even when I disagree with him - it happens! - and living Irish patriots Gerry Adams and Martin \\\'Mind Your Kneecaps\\\' McGuiness. I pray earnestly for a united and free Ireland rescued from all official British occupation, with every square inch of alleged \\\'ancestral lands\\\' now held immorally and illegally by the invaders returned to the rightful owners. Irish-only rule for Ireland. No foreign masters anymore! I find it passing strange when Brits chide ME about \'interfering\' in Irish politics!

Journal Archives

Working with hospice patients was one of the most gratifying experiences in my life.

I saw so much and heard so many stories from others that I learned a certain comfort with death. That's not meant to sound cruel or heartless. It heightened my awareness of how thin the veil between planes of life can be. And I never felt more needed or appreciated.

When hospice first got started, though, often there was an incredible amount of ignorance. W/o prior consent, people were still deprived of fluids in a mistaken effort at kindness to keep them from lingering. I went to care for a woman in her last hours one night; she was frantic, kept trying to claw her way out of bed. I told her exhausted husband to go and take a long bath to soothe his own nerves. As soon as I heard the bathroom door shut, I got the lady what she needed more than anything else - a little drink of water. She looked at me like I was God himself, settled right down, and left moments later. What I did was illegal, but what I'd been told to do was immoral.

Thankfully the system has matured since those days.

Kazan belonged in a dark period the rest of his life

after he ratted to the HUAC.

Let me offer a toast to the drunk's departure. Don't leave the lights on for him.

You left out what Tom said about the communists at the end.

That was my favorite part, although I couldn't quote it perfectly from memory.

Well, as always the book beat the movie.

That said, 'East of Eden' was the first Steinbeck I read, and it totally hooked me. I hadn't realized adults understood such matters.

John Steinbeck was always a favorite of mine, and so was Fonda.

I started reading Steinbeck at such an early age that I had to hide it from most adults. So many of his books were considered scandalous at the time. But he could write characters like nobody else. Consider 'The Wayward Bus'. Most of those people would easily escape notice in everyday life, but Steinbeck made them memorable. He had a profound effect on my own life.

The only film of the era that I found comparable was the original 'Salt of the Earth'. I think there's been a remake, but I'm not interested. 'Norma Rae' and 'Matewan' were later favorites, too. Beginning to see a trend here?

Yes, indeed he would.

I know, because I raised a Calvin myself. Never a dull moment.

Thank you.

I shudder to think what my poor Brigid suffered her first 3 months of life. And I always bless the folks who set up a relay to bring her hundreds of miles to me. She was so weak that I feared she'd never last the night, and she'll always have food issues. She still tries to poke her long snout down my throat to make me puke up something for her to eat, just as a puppy will do to its Mom. But that's okay because she's still perfect in my eyes. Bless the beasts and the children...

If the nation gives him the Congress he needs next year,

there's no end to what we can do.

You're probably the only people who don't want to shoot me

every time I whoop and holler, "I KNEW this man would be President the first time I ever laid eyes on him!"


Damn, that feels good.
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