This post was originally in the form of a free online Podcast, it has since expired and been deleted.  Unfortunately I do not have the story in text for and all I remember is that it had something to do with Elly, Family and fashion.

Maybe one day I will re-produce it and link back here.

I suppose you might call me a Reader / Commenter of many Blog sites these days.

Some I try once and never return, while others are now part of my daily diet.

On one of these visits I discovered a Blog spot offering ‘Feed Burner’ prizes. Paul Brown over at Technology in plain English is the kind man offering these gifts; we will draw a blank over his claim that I propositioned him on a train. J

If I have any readers out there who would like to be entered into a draw for a Feed Burner then now is your chance. Don’t go looking for a feed burner on my site as I am not that advanced and consider myself on the nursery slopes of blogging!

“So what do you need to do”? I hear you ask. The answer is very easy just leave a comment on this blogpost sometime on Tuesday 27th Feb. You will need to leave your name , email (hidden) and say that you were sent by oldbones1909.blogspot.com (That’s me Grannymar)

You will find it all explained in more detail on this blogpost: ‘Free Feedburner gear to giveaway on your blog‘.

You know what they say, “If you are not in you can’t win!”

Go on, go on, you know you want to!

♫ I am off to Dublin in the green, ♫ in the green ♫ well it is not quite in the green “I shall wear purple with a red hat which doesn’t go, and doesn’t suit me. This last quotation comes from a very old poem called “Warning” by Jenny Joseph it is about growing old disgracefully. Some day I will add it to the Blog and see if you agree with the sentiments.

Most of you think I am travelling to Dublin for the Irish Blog Awards; yes I will go along as an acknowledgement of Elly’s efforts in coaching me in modern technology and as a physical show of support to all involved in organising and bringing the Awards night to fruition.

My main reason for this trip is to fulfil a long time commitment to attend a Photographic Exhibition in Baldoyle Library, Dublin 13 from Monday 5^th to Tuesday 20^th March 2007. I have known ‘Richard M’, the photographer; since he was born and have watched his talent grow. He reminded me the other night that his first commission was to take the photos at my wedding! I am pleased to say that he has now agreed to do the same for Elly in a few months time.

‘Richard M’ is very skilled at his craft and over the years his work has ranged from photographing children visiting Santa, Graduating students, Official Conference photographs, Weddings right through to an Irish President inside Áras an Uachtaráin.

‘Richard M’ has a great love for nature and this passion is captured through his lens. He will wait several hours while the world sleeps to capture the sun as it appears on the horizon. This exhibition is mainly ‘Seascapes’ capturing moments at different times of the day in or around the Howth Peninsula taken over the past 30 years.

The word ‘Howth’ gives me a warm glow because it brings back memories of days spent either up at the head or down round the pier. I know that through ‘Richard M’s’ lens I will see it with new eyes.

Now I must sort out my packing for this trip. Where are my clean clothes…..

This post was originally in the form of a free online Podcast, it has since expired and been deleted.  Unfortunately I do not have the story in text form and will re-produce it at a later date and link back here.

A young nurse, who for some time looked after an elderly lady in hospital, was aware according to the file, that she had no living relative. The patient was unable to communicate or do anything for herself. When the lady died it fell to the nurse to dispose of her clothes and what little the locker contained. She found the following poem. Having read it she showed to her colleagues and eventually passed it to the Marie Curie Charity. It brings a lump to my throat each time I read it.

An Old Lady’s Poem

What do you see, nurses, what do you see?

What are you thinking when you’re looking at me?

A crabby old woman, not very wise,

Uncertain of habit, with faraway eyes?

Who dribbles her food and makes no reply

When you say in a loud voice, “I do wish you’d try!”

Who, resisting or not, lets you do as you will,

With bathing and feeding, the long day to fill….

Is that what you’re thinking, is that what you see?

Then open your eyes, nurse; you’re not looking at me.

I’ll tell you who I am as I sit here so still,

As I do at your bidding, as I eat at your will.

I’m a small child of ten, with a father and mother,

Brothers and sisters, who love one another.

A young girl of sixteen, with wings on her feet,

Dreaming that soon now a lover she’ll meet.

A bride soon at twenty – my heart gives a leap,

Remembering the vows that I promised to keep.

At twenty-five now, I have young of my own,

Who need me to guide and a secure happy home.

A woman of thirty, my young now grown fast,

Bound to each other with ties that should last.

At forty, my young sons have grown and are gone,

But my man’s beside me to see I don’t mourn.

At fifty once more, babies play round my knee,

Again we know children, my loved one and me.

Dark days are upon me my husband is dead;

I look at the future I shudder with dread.

For my young are all rearing young of their own,

And I think of the years and the love that I’ve known.

I’m now an old woman and nature is cruel;

‘tis jest to make old age look like a fool.

The body, it crumbles grace and vigour depart,

There is now a stone where I once had a heart.

But inside a carcass a young girl still dwells,

And now and again my battered heart swells.

I remember the joys I remember the pain,

And I’m loving and living life over again.

I think of the years – all too few, gone too fast,

And accept the stark fact that nothing can last.

So open your eyes, people, open and see,

Not a crabby old woman; look closer see ME!

Lonely hearts are being advised by the Catholic Church to consult an archangel to help them find love, according to an article in the Daily Telegraph.

The Catholic Enquiry Office (CEO) is suggesting that, rather than enduring rounds of speed dating to find a partner, people could pray to Saint Raphael, the patron saint of “happy meetings”.

Raphael, a Saint?

The only Raphael I knew was very fond of “happy meetings” especially if there were brown envelopes floating in his direction, but you would not call him a saint!

“Now where would you find an archangel?” I hear you ask. I know where you might find an angel with very long arms, alas she is as cold as steel.

Angel of the North

Or you might like to consult me!