I've quit posting here so much because all I ever did was post depressing stuff, but you know what they say, misery loves company, so guess what I'm posting today? That's right, depressing stuff. You don't have to read it. It's not like I'm holding a gun to your head..

Today is the 3rd anniversary of the day I became married no more. One man's trash is another man's treasure, so it's also the day in which Dana the snake rejoices.

I was a fan of Scottish group, Big Country in the early 80's. They are considered a one-hit wonder in the U.S. Their bagpipe sounding guitars stirred the 1/4 Scot in me. Upon remembering them the other day I started youtubing them. One thing lead to another and I found out the lead singer, Stuart Adamson, committed suicide. I also discovered that, post-Big Country, Adamson belonged to a group called The Raphaels.

In honor of the day I am posting this song by the Raphaels:

Usually music masks an accent, but I love that you can hear his Scottish accent when he sings.

Worth a listen, and really, a song I like better is:

I love the fife, mandolin and bodhran. It's a good thing you can't see me now because I'm wearing the Cranston tartan and clogging.

RIP Stuart Adamson.

and the person who used to be me.

The Good News

These guys are great

My new theme song?

Good message with a YeeHaw

What it came down to

Damn hippies

If I could rule
I'd dance my cares away
Find romance every day
You wouldn't have to listen to this poor fool say
I'm the king queen of nothing.

Mrs. Livingston, teacher of my high school poetry class, played this song as an example of modern poetry. I was most impressed that she, being the old lady I thought she was at the time, even knew who Seals and Crofts were. She was younger then than I am now. Funny how life changes one's perspective.

Warning:

There may be some missing baskets on Easter morning.

6 of one, half a dozen of the other

I have never been so *bleeping* exhausted in my life, not even when I had a newborn waking me up several times during the night. I guess this is what it means to be a grown up. My son in law used to tell me I was spoiled (pre-divorce) and it used to piss me off, but he was right. In many ways I was spoiled. I will never admit that to him.

I'm not spoiled anymore.

My boss from my first job worked the schedule so that I could take the second job and she was able to give me one day off a week. Hallelujah! I was worried.

I want to say I like the second job. I don't. The people are wonderful, the works sucks. Well, it's not so much the work sucking as the fact that I work non stop for 8 hours with no break, no lunch...It's too convoluted to explain. Technically, I get a lunch, I just haven't figured out HOW I am supposed to take that lunch. I asked and no practical advice was given. I think my boss feels vindicated by saying, "Have you eaten today?" It covers her ass since it is offered. That's not to say she's not a lovely person, she is. She's just too busy.

She goes to lunch, though.

I really should not talk about work here.

One day off a week is good, but two would be better.

The first thing I do when I walk in the door from work in the evening is get a beer or a glass of wine. I am a such a cliche sometimes.

And boring, if you ask Sili. Hell, ask me. I know better than she does.

I don't get to see as much of my daughter and grandsons as I used to. It's always surprisng to see what the youngest grandson has learned during the previous week when I see them on my day off. Last week I found out he'd learned to give kisses. My daughter told him to give me a kiss. He grabbed me around to neck and laid the biggest, most enthusiastic smacker on me. He's so proud of himself and it's so darn cute. I wish I could put these memories away somewhere for safekeeping so I could pull them out later and relive them again.