Archive for the ‘Ireland’ Category

Simple Treats

September 26, 2007

You know, when you do without a lot of “stuff,” simple things can be quite a treat.

For example, typing with a real, ergonomic keyboard – in my lap! On my own PC! At home! In a real house!

This time last year, I was traveling Ireland, at the end of the money I had available, frightened for no really good reason, but not able to see past the end of my nose because of the tunnel vision fear induces. I had sold the car I had been given and most of what I owned, in order to visit Ireland, my first foreign trip off the North American continent.

I learned 2 things that I would prefer to do differently next time: travel with a companion and have a fuller purse to travel with.

Reviewing the year since then, I notice that lots of big maybe’s happen in my life. I tell everyone about them as I am making my choices, and sometimes people get confused – including me.

So, this cup of lapsang souchong tea, with just the right amount of Silk French Vanilla soy creamer and maple syrup, enjoyed from my own comfy computer chair, at the desk I found by the side of the road in Atlanta, GA (another maybe that only lasted 3 months), is a simple treat.

I suspect that somewhere in Texas, a village is . . .  no, wait, what I mean to say is, somewhere in Texas, an older man is wondering why the act of calling to “congratulate” me on another of a slew of run-of-the-mill temp jobs with which I am managing to pay my bills did not land in a good spot with me. I think the reason is self-explanatory from what I have already said.

But I am happy to be near the mountains, in a warm home, with warm kitties and a lovely roommate ( who has a computer-savvy boyfriend who is the man to thank for my ability to type on this formerly defunct PC again!).

I’m just going to soak for a while in how supported and well-treated I am.

Many blessings and much love,


“Peace in our minds and in our lives is a cause-effect relationship.”

                                   – Stacy Clark


Peace Now – Inner Peace Thoughts for 9/11

September 11, 2007


Just in case some of you want to know about this . . .

Please Pass It On to Others!

The Call is Thursday 9/13

Do you know Gay Hendricks? He’s written over 30 best-selling transformational books — books about relationships, breathing, manifestation, even golf!

Gay is are offering an upcoming teleclass that I’d like to invite you to attend at no charge.

Here’s Gay’s message about the class:

   When I was in Boulder recently, I had dinner with an old friend,    Steven Sashen. He’s one of the best “system thinkers” I know. If you want to know what REALLY makes something work, or how to make something more powerful or efficient, he’s your guy. He and I are teaming up on a new meditation course that will be offered via teleseminar.

   Steven is a longtime meditator. And when he turned his systems-thinking scope on meditation he discovered something that truly impressed me, a set of insights and practices that I wish I’d had 30 years ago. (Some of you know that I’m a longtime  meditator–in fact, I haven’t missed a day of meditation since 1973. So, anything that fine-tunes meditation is right up my alley.)

   If I’d had Steven’s insights and techniques, I think it would have accelerated my practice and my spiritual growth by years. He’s taken people who are new to meditation or who couldn’t make it work  for them – he’s even worked with teenagers and homeless people–and after just a few minutes of instruction, they’ve had experiences of peace, and deep spiritual insights that take most meditators decades to find.

   Steven’s techniques work well for advanced meditators, too. If you already have a meditation or spiritual practice, you can make an almost instant leap to a new depth and expansion.

   With Steven’s techniques you don’t need to stop (or even slow down) your thoughts and you don’t need to take time out from your busy schedule. You can do them practically anywhere.

   I could tell you more, it would be better for you to experience it yourself. So, I’ve arranged a way for you to do that.

       Go to
   When you get to the site, fill out the registration form and I’ll let you know about an upcoming free teleclass where you can discover for yourself how easily you can find deep body relaxation, greatly expanded awareness, and real inner-peace…even while the kids are demanding your attention or work is getting nuts.

   I hope you’ll join me for this new and exciting opportunity,

   Gay Hendricks

The teleclass is going to be really fun and interesting and there’s a chance to get a $400 gift. I hope you can make it, too.

presented by Garuda, Inc.

Have fun!


“It is no sign of mental health to be well-adjusted to an insane world.”

                 The Dalai Lama

Very Moving News

March 9, 2007

“Ladles & Jellyspoons,

I come before you to stand behind you to tell you something you already know. Next Tuesday, which is Good Friday, there will be a mother’s meeting for fathers only. Admission is free. Pay at the door. Grab a seat and sit on the floor.”

That’s all I can remember of a little ditty on a 45 record my mother had when I was a a child. I was reminded of it when I read Spider Robinson’s speech to a fan convention as printed in Time Travelers Strictly Cash . His is funnier, but it’s at home.


Well, that’s what I’m writing about, isn’t it?

After nearly a year (minus a month in the green green grass of Ireland, perhaps an ancestral home and 2 weeks housesitting on a mountain) in the home of the lovely Audrey, who is so much more to me than just a friend, I am moving to the home of the equally lovely Elizabeth, of whom I could say much the same. I am a lucky girl!

Audrey’s home is sold and Elizabeth needs a roommate, preferably someone she knows. Me, too!  So much nicer to live with a known friend. I’ll admit there is some sadness at leaving Audrey’s, we had started to consider a more permanent arrangement when the offer came in, but she really does need to let go of this house, as she now lives and thrives in scenic Santa Fe.

If I sound a little too animated about it, it may be because this will be my 7th home in 2 years. I admit that I am a flexible, adaptable person. Still, I’m ready to settle in somewhere, and I have high hopes for my new home with Elizabeth.

Cell phone is the same.

Let me know if you have an hour or two to hoist a couple of boxes into a car or truck and come see where I’m going. I have 2 men with strong arms (Thank you T & P!) helping with the couches. I’m not moving the things out of storage just yet. I’m going to unpack the basics first.

Keep those cards & letters coming!

Blessings and love, y’all, (always a Texan deep in my heart)


Medieval Girl

February 12, 2007

Something inside me relaxed in gratitude and comfort yesterday at brunch when Steven turned to me and asked, “In what century do you think you should have been born?”

Isn’t it wonderful when your friends know things about you that are so integral that you miss the forest for the trees until someone says something? I got all warm and fuzzy inside.

I said, “I don’t know. Medieval times. What year was that?”

I checked Wikipedia. Pope Gregory started our calendar on February 24 in 1582. No wonder I didn’t know what year it was!  We didn’t use those years. Somebody was just about to change our whole concept of time!

Wikipedia also says that medieval times date from the 5th to the 16th century. I’m kinda part of the latter period there, I think. I didn’t read it all. That’s about the period of kings, queens, courts and . . . courtesans!!!

How’s that for a Valentine’s Day thought?

I love castles and the idea of dungeons and lots of things.

I love men with hair down to the middle of their backs and leather lace up boots and knives at their hips, wearing billowing poet’s shirts and speaking with British or Celtic accents. Pirate types, too. Think Johnny Depp in “Pirates of the Carribean.” And gypsies!

They melt me into a puddle.

I know a little more than just the romantic version. I know a little about living without plumbing and heating with a woodstove. Not much, but I lived a year at 9000 feet. After 3 nights at 18 degrees, I could keep the fire going all night. Necessity being a mother, and all of that.

I sometimes describe myself as a cross between a courtesan and a tavern wench. Courtesans were generally educated. If you have never seen the movie, “Dangerous Beauty,” I highly recommend it. If you’re female and love sex and giving men their fantasies, take your tissues, you will need them. “Princess Bride” is another one.

Turns out that the woman sitting next to me at brunch, someone who had not been there before, loves “Dangerous Beauty,” too. We made a date to have dinner and chat about our common interests.

Here is the Wikipedia entry on courtesans, with a note that “the neutrality of this article is disputed.”  Ha, I’ll bet.

“A courtesan of mid-16th century usage referred to a high-class prostitute or mistress, especially one associated with rich, powerful, or upper-class men who provided luxuries and status in exchange for her services. In Renaissance Europe, courtesans played an important role in upper-class society, sometimes taking the place of wives at social functions.[citation needed] As it was customary during this time for royal couples to lead separate lives—commonly marrying simply to preserve bloodlines and to secure political alliances—men would often seek sexual gratification and companionship from a courtesan. There have been a few isolated cases of courtesans providing services to wealthy females, however.[citation needed] Courtesans usually enjoyed more freedoms than was typical of women at the time. For example, they were financially stable and independent. Being in control of their own resources meant that they did not need to rely on their spouses or male relatives to survive, as was the case for the majority of women.”

So, the Medieval period is first, then there was the Renaissance, followed by the Protestant Reformation.

You lose me at the Renaissance. I am a little out of my depth and preferences by then. You get a little too intellectual and stiff there. That’s fine for those with 1500 different interests and talents, but that’s not me. And I prefer not to put Decartes before the horse.

The Protestant Reformation was sort of kind of a step forward, in my opinion, from straight Catholicism. At least people were starting to think for themselves a little more, but it is nothing compared to the ideas that Christ actually taught, as far as I can tell.

Christ taught us to “seek ye first the Kingdom of Heaven.” And then he told us where to look, “the Kingdom of Heaven is WITHIN.” Not in a book, not with a guru, not in a church, not in an organization… INSIDE.

Yeah, I have some affinity for that time, too. Mary Magdalene is my patron saint. She is indeed a saint in the Episcopal church.

I really love the castles. Can I have mine with heat and running water?

This prompts many people to ask if I am a member of SCA, the Society for Creative Anachronism. The answer is “no.” Oh, I might fit in with one group or another. I’ve gone to an event or two. I’d love to learn the dances. But for some reason it isn’t quite the fit I’m after. I don’t want to play at it, dress up in period garb and go to SCA events, really. Oh, I might with the right person.

And yes, I’ve been to a few Renaissance Festivals in a couple of states. (No pun intended.) They’re alright. I’m not a fan of large groups of people I do not know doing a multitude of different colorful things. (This aversion keeps me from Burning Man, too, since that’s often another question I am asked. That and the desert and the heat. No thanks!)

One of my favorite albums as a child was Oscar Brand’s “Bawdy Songs and Backroom Ballads, Volume III.” I had it memorized by the time I was 13 or 14.

Try this one:

She’ll Do It Again  

And for a sheep-skin, she’ll do it, she’ll do it,
And for a sheep-skin, she’ll do it again,
And for a cow’s horn, she’ll do it all morn,
And merrily turn, and do it again.

Among our young lasses is Muirland Meg,
She’ll beg you to do it she’ll beg and she’ll beg,
At thirteen her maidenhead flew to the gate,
And thedoor of thecage it is wide open yet

Her kettle-black eyes want to tickle you through,
Her lips seem to say it, “Kiss me, please do,”
The curls and the links of her bonny black hair
Would put you in mind that the lassie has mair.

An armful of love is her bosom sae plump,
A span of delight is her middle and rump,
A taper white leg, and a stomach in style,
And a fiddle nearby you can play for a while.

For love’s her delight, and kissing’s her treasure,
She’ll stick at no price and she’ll give you good measure,
So take her warm hand, mon, or better, her leg,
And sing of the praises of Muirland Meg.

 Here are the lyrics to one of my favorites, “Kafoozalem.” The tune is “London Bridge,” basically. I found 2 spellings and several versions worse, or better, depending upon your taste, than this one, but this is the one I learned as a child.

You can find the rest of them on this link:


Hi ho Kafoozalem, the harlot of Jerusalem
Prostitute of ill repute
Daughter of the Baba.

Come listen to my tale of woe
It happened many years ago
When women rarely answered no
Way down in old Jerusalem.


Kafoozalem was a wily witch
A horny whore, a brazen bitch
She caused all the lips to twitch
That liveth in Jerusalem.


There was a prince both lean and tall
Whose manly arts made all to fall
His victims lined the Wailing Wall
That standeth in Jerusalem.


One night returnin’ from a spree
His customary leer had he
Looked down the road and chanced to see
That horny wench Kafoozalem.


With artful eye and cunning look
She led him to a shady nook
And to her bounteous bosom took
The pride of all Jerusalem.


But he was too abrupt, alas
And so he made a hasty pass
That knocked Kafoozalem to the grass
That grows in old Jerusalem.


But Kafoozalem was overgassed
She arched her back and loosed a blast
That sent him flying far and fast
Sailin’ o’er Jerusalem.


And when the moon is bright and red
A flying form sails overhead
Still raining curses on the bed
Of that brazen bitch Kafoozalem.


I also loved “Dynamo Hum,” by Frank Zappa, and dozens of others similar to these. 

That may be another blog, for another day.

Goodnight, boys and girls. 


Stacy (aka Anastacia)

What’s Next?

December 26, 2006

This is a way too familiar question at this point.

I’ve been in New Mexico at both of Joy’s homes, Villanueva and Santa Fe. It was wonderful to be with her, especially at darshan with Swami Vishwananda. It was the first time Joy had been to darshan with anyone. She was giggly for days, especially after three days of seeing everyone around her as God. One night she looked into the mirror and saw God. That was priceless.

Swami’s darshan in Santa Fe, Fort Worth and then home.

Well, sort of. Not home at Lafayette, near home on a mountain house sitting.

Now I’ve been house sitting on a mountain for nearly 2 weeks. In some ways, it almost feels like Ireland. Too solitary for me!

I guess maybe all of this is building up steam for me to find solutions in the problem. (Yeah, I know, Joy, I’m taking out the “maybe.”)

I really, really want to live in a community of like-minded people. As in a single roommate isn’t enough. I need to be teaching and leading groups. I am thinking of going ahead and starting a few. I attempted to revive Priest Women’s Lunch, but we were snowed out. No one could even get out of their driveways with 3 or 4 feet of snow here.

Now I’m in discussion with another writer about starting a science fiction group of some kind. I suspect he is a hard science type of science fiction reader. I would like to have some major input on what we read and discuss because I totally read for meaning and messages. The technology isn’t all that interesting to me. It’s just there to support the meaning.

At some point, I am going to have to move. Joy is selling her place. Well, if it sells, I suppose. The market isn’t great and there was a fire two doors down and it still looks awful. They’ll be working on that place for a while. I’ve considered being a managing tenant there. It is much better now that it is remodeled.

I notice that I am enjoying the sunrise much, much more today than I have most days up here. Why do I think that is? Well, I had some company up here all day yesterday. It made a world of difference. I finally got into the hot tub for the first time. I’ll have company tonight, too. Sean is coming up to enjoy the hot tub.

I know what to do, really. Find clarity and ask what Next Step I can take.

So many “goals,” though: marriage, home, better car, work to do, income (not necessarily the same), social groups to build.

Social groups to build?

Did I write that?

Hmm. . . looks like that suggests some potential Next Steps, doesn’t it?

Call and write people, have a few group discussions. See about getting the resources together. I can inspire. I’d like a Sage for the group building part.

*smile* I love how this stuff works.



Snow Blog

December 23, 2006

After being shut in on a mountain for 4 days, I suppose a snow blog is invevitable.

I have a stabbing pain between my shoulder blades from typing in awkward positions. The computer cable is on a coffee table. At first I was bending over too much. I realized that after the first day. Now I pull the laptop into my lap and it helps, but it really hurts right now.

The pain is also from shoveling the porch, and several large concrete steps twice. The second time I had to stop at the bottom step where the Sun does not reach, because 3 feet of very wet snow was too dense and heavy for me to lift.

So, let’s talk about being alone, being lonely and solitude.

I am fine with my own company. I like me. I am fine with being alone and keeping myself occupied. I have tons of writing to do. I listen to chants and sing and such like that. I read . . . a lot.

However, I only need maybe 10 or 20% of my time to be alone time. I much prefer having a few people around to talk to. I love being part of a group. This past couple of years marks the longest time in my life in which I have not been part of a spiritual social group of some kind.

I learned a lot from the trip to Ireland. I will not try to travel that much alone again. I will take a travel companion or three.

I had the same wonderful roommate for nearly 4 years prior to this 2 years of solitude. I’ve had 3 since then and Joy moved out in October. Then I got stuck on this mountain for 4 days.

It’s a beautiful mountain. It’s a beautiful home. I’m sure the hot tub is great, but I haven’t been in it. It has 3 feet of packed snow on top. I’m not sure I can lift it and I don’t really feel like going out there just yet. Maybe I will before I leave. Maybe I won’t.

My days have been about scooping 6 catboxes and I spent 2 days keeping a fire in the woodstove and decided it was way more work than it was worth. I don’t need to be that warm. It needs attention every 2 hours or it dies down too much to light the next wood. I did start the fire with only paper and hardwood on my second try. Thank God for that year on Coal Creek Canyon.

Right now, I just want to get down to a coffee shop and be among people. Well, that and writing this blog. I write in order to be with people, you know. To communicate with people and hopefully, some will communicate back.

It’s the first thing I can do about the over-abundance of solitude.

There is a sweet little college kid, and probably his roommate, down there shoveling snow again. The one guy spent 3 hours yesterday and only got maybe 1/5 of the job done. It is dense, heavy wet snow about 3 to 4 feet thick all over the driveway, parking lot, steps and cars.

His roommate couldn’t find any rock salt anywhere last night, so they stopped at sunset and promised to come back this morning. And here they are. A nice fellow plowed some last night, but then his truck got stuck, because it was dark and freezing up again. It helped. And the kids won’t have so much to do on the sloped driveway now.

I asked them to make getting the car out a priority. I need to check the Lafayette home and get the big blue trash can into the garage. It’s been on the street since Wednesday. I hope.

I meditate every day, usually when I wake up and again in the early afternoon. I’d just as soon do that with a group, as well. Alone is fine. It keeps me centered.

Jonathan Cainer wrote that recent data from the Hubble telescope shows that the Galactic Center or Core is not one star, but many stars all together. To me, that means that this period of abundant aloneness is going to end. I will notice there are other lights around me, translucent beings to share with.

Thank God!



Astrology Note:

Pluto is conjunct the Galactic Center which is conjunct my natal Sun and Midheaven and in the same sign as my Mercury, Mars, and Jupiter. In fact, those 3 planets are all in Sagittarius right now, too. And of course, the Sun was in Sagittarius for the past month.

Another Ireland Note

November 8, 2006

Frankly, I think this is a bit lame. But I’ve been working toward writing 50,000 words on the fictionalized version of my memoir since November 1… sans outline … sans plot … sans sanity, if you ask me.

I might make the word goal, but next time I try this sort of insanity I will be sure to bring an outline, a structure, something!

It’s okay. I don’t really want to be writing this as fiction. I just see the value in doing so. I hate the process. I told that to another writer at brunch a few weeks ago. I said I didn’t want to write fiction. She took me at face value and said, “Then don’t. It’s too much work.” I can’t seem to stop it. At least not until I try.

So here are about 300 words that issued from my fingers today in an effort to write something, anything.

I used to say that when I travel, I finally feel comfortable in a place when I have found the health food store, the Indian restaurant and the Starbucks. I found all of those quickly in Ireland, but I never felt at home there.

The health food store was tiny. It had wooden floors, like all health food stores should, but the products on the shelves were mostly unfamiliar to me. I saw a few things I recognized, but the brands and packaging were not those comfortable familiar objects I saw at home. There would be Vitamin C, but no Solar Ray brand of it. Chai, but none was Oregon, not even Third Street which I hated. Even the way things were lined up on the shelves seemed foreign and unfamiliar.

The Indian restaurant was closer. I mean, being a foreign restaurant in a foreign country, how much difference could there be? They served pakoras and dal and saag panir. Good. So far. The décor was dark wood rich with tapestries of blue people and gold and red borders. So. The chai was spicy and sweet. Good. This I could deal with. Funny to find that the very foreign was the most familiar thing in a foreign country.

Starbucks. You’re not going to believe this, but at the Cork airport in Ireland, I went to the Starbucks counter asking for the Ethiopian Sidamo that was on the menu board. “I’m sorry,” the girl told me, “this is our first week to be open and the Ethiopian Sidamo has not arrived yet.” Oh dear. So, I drank Costa Rica blend and liked it. I normally don’t drink Starbucks at home anymore, but I guess even at the airport, after hours and hours of airplane travel, I realized that any taste of home was better than none.

*shrug* It’s word count at this point, that counts.



“Stress Makes Us Blind and Stupid”

October 18, 2006

It’s true.

There I was in Ireland not really enjoying it. Why?

I was stressed and not clearing it. Not like I wasn’t trying. But I wasn’t getting there by myself. I literally could not see straight.

I’ve done nothing but learn ways to clear stress my entire life. At least that’s one way of looking at all the counseling, rebirthing breathwork, neurolinguistic programming, meditation, Work of Byron Katie, Quantum Wealth, etc. that I have spent tons of time and money doing. I did breathwork. I looked for thoughts to investigate.

Finally, I wrote down, “I need someone to help me.”

It was true. There was nothing to investigate!

Sometimes we are so overwhelmed, so “blind and stupid” that we need a hand-hold, an assist, a little help from our friends.

I have told clients that if we were meant to heal alone we’d be on a planet alone. The fact that there are 6 BILLION other humans here is a clue.

I did finally ask for help.

I called Boulder and requested a session with one of my teachers. The stress cleared up. I came home in a state of bliss.

I met fascinating people on the way home. Talked with a guy named Mauricio most of the way across the Atlantic. He was like a brother. We got our nasty airplane food. I asked if he wanted my roll. He gave me his salad. We talked like we had known each other forever, in both English and Spanish. I will likely write more about that later. He was good company. I met a woman in the Chicago airport, a financial investment counselor, who was going to meet friends in Boulder. She said they studied some American Indian path, something Sioux, she said. I taught her how to say “All my relations” in Lakota Sioux. Mi takuye oyasin.

Everything was interesting that had not been before. I found myself thinking about how to write about the people I met. I noticed the Irish countryside as I flew over it, and Colorado’s when I got here. I said Ireland was like a green egg carton. The landscape was bumpy and green. Colorado was flat and brown. I was blissing out on even flat and brown.

Bliss is not dependent on where we are or who we’re with or what is happening. I knew that, but for a couple of weeks there, I just couldn’t connect with it at all.

It’s a little weird to be back in Boulder right now.

In a way I kind of feel like I chickened out and left Ireland due to lack of funds. Maybe, maybe not. I thought I had a place I could stay a while, but missed connections and directions, and ended up sitting around in Cork for an extra week.

I could have taken what money I had and gone to London and been there this past weekend to see Swami Vishwananda, which was something I wanted to do very much. One of my former roommates is there. I had spaced it out until I got a letter yesterday from the Seva (work) group that they organized to support Swami’s work in Boulder. I had totally spaced out that it was this past weekend. Of course, that could have something to do with being in bed all weekend. Now I appreciate that distraction more than ever.

Of course, Swami will be here in a few weeks. I can see him right in my own backyard. And that was one of the things I noticed even before I left, of course. Nothing new there. I wasn’t leaving to find anything in Ireland that I could not find here. There was nothing in Ireland or elsewhere than I couldn’t do here, in fact maybe more of it here. That felt like a rationalization for going home (or before I left for not going), though, and from my stressed state, it was.

I imagine I could have gotten enough together to get back if I had gone on, but I was in that state of worry that keeps me from thinking clearly and didn’t get it clear enough to see my choices. 

At the same time, Aubrey keeps telling me how she doesn’t know how she would have gotten through the move without me. I’m living in one bedroom and the rest of the house is currently covered in plastic and being painted. I believe I will be able to open the refrigerator and kitchen cabinets again by Friday. The place is empty except for a few things I have and a little clutter in the basement. I’ll live here till the place sells unless something else comes up sooner.

So, not knowing how to talk about all of this is why I have not written much about Ireland. I was all busy doing image management. I didn’t realize it. And I didn’t want to look at it. I got to do The Work last Tuesday and realized how much energy and how much of my life is spent on this. I cried for half an hour first, though. I could not see it at all. I did not want to go there. I was still trying to look good.

So many people had helped me to get there. I was supposed to be feeling grateful and having a wonderful experience, but I was not. I didn’t feel like I could be honest with anyone about that.

Frankly, I hated Ireland for days at a time. I was bored. I was restless. I didn’t know what to do or where to go next. I was panicky, really. I finally got honest enough to say it that way to my friend, Erica, yesterday, and then I found myself writing to Ruth in a little more detail, and the next thing you know, I finally felt like I could write honestly about it for this blog.

It’s hard to say you hate something when you have worked so hard to get there. And it’s not that there was anything wrong with Ireland. There wasn’t. It’s just a place. I was just too “blind and stupid” to be clear about it and enjoy it. Once I got clear, all was bliss again.

But then I got home, and immediately immersed myself in someone else’s problems and worked on Aubrey’s house. I didn’t make time to stop and think about Ireland even though Aubrey was urging me to take a couple of days to myself and let her do the packing. Actually, I was getting stressed again and her stress was just a cover for my own.

I can now see several things I will change the next time I head out for something like this. From a different, less stressed, perspective, it was an incredible learning experience. I would not trade it. It is embarrassing in some ways, yes, but there’s not much I can do about that.

Wonder what’s next?


“Stress makes us blind and stupid.”

                       – Steven Sashen, Quantum Wealth workbook

Astrology & Bedspreads

October 8, 2006

Speaking of people’s rights, something we still have the right to do in this country per the First Amendment . . .

I was mildly annoyed that the hostel in Ireland blocked my astrology sites, even on the wireless access.

It strikes me as very odd that those were blocked, perhaps censored, while at the same time the bedspreads in every room have a zodiac with all the signs, and a happy smiley sun and moon on them.

I never really got the chance to ask the manager about it. After my first query about why my astrology sites were blocked (after I had been accessing them for a couple of days, so I suspect this was an intentional act) the manager was somehow always very busy and never really spoke to me in person again. All he said was, “Can’t do anything about that until Monday.”

I wonder if I actually encountered the famous reluctance of the Irish to ever use the word, “No?”