long live the nose

At 11pm the storm came with thunder, lightning bolts, heavy rain, wild gusts of wind and then it was over.  The next morning the power in all the college buildings were out and hundreds of students and a few teachers stood outside fraternizing the providential moment.  It’s St. Patrick’s Day, enjoy the respite.  Classes were put off until electricity returned and we gathered together in our uninspired rooms and resumed the lessons. I used a green marker and explained vaccines and leprosy and ebola and the hour was finished.  The students were mostly civilized today as we practiced writing supporting sentences with a topic sentence.  You need a balance between studies and your life outside, pointing out the window to reality.  Why, pray tell lassies, tell me now.

Two more days this work week, I emailed the agency who does the hiring for schools in other parts of the country.  I have until April 12 to let the powers know if I will resign or stay another year.  I’d feel a little more risky if I were 20 years younger and actually had a plan but tonight, with the ceiling fan whirling, edgy music challenging me to leap through the unknown I am an unknown, the unknown heads towards the unknown.  Six years I didn’t fear the unknown, an ancient spirit’s sudden arrival made me invincible though nothing came of the journey which has flattened onto a patch of straight road and continues nauseatingly straight.  I’d like to get off this road now, old fella.  You know my future, albeit just a half second ahead of me is all, a holding pattern we are in now, I wanna do cartwheels, I wanna draw circles inside circles. 

I know I have to get up bloody early tomorrow but it is a damn holiday for the patron saint of a father’s land so Slanche!  a wee bit of India-Scotland’s mid range finest and cherry coke, ok, a turkey pastrami and potato salad help round off, ah you see, round, it’s all about the circle of life it tis, and for now, we are ok.  For now.

Some of the folks in this Leica meet fb page are professional photographers in that they have their own webpages and sell their images.  I guess that makes one a professional photographer, right?  Well, one can only hope somewhere in the midst of fine images I will be inspired to do something with my pics, because right now, it’s it’s what, it is what it is, and what is that but sharing moments from other parts of the world.

Uh oh, the liquor is playing with me, leave this place with nothing but what you can fit in the back pack and go…I might have to drink more because I don’t know where, the Galapagos Islands for six months?  Irish music, it is so grand, isn’t it, friend.  Send you a river, you are not where you want to be.  Ay, lass, tis not good to be melancholy alone. 

I think if I plopped sixty thousand clams on Aunt Eileen’s lap she would have given me the house in Cornamona.  Ay the Irish, she’s truer Irish than I am, I must say, and suspicion got the best of her, but was she right, am I, or was I, just too unreliable, well if I gave her sixty thousand clams that’s definitely a concrete offer, I’d be going there for me summer holidays instead of the Himalayas, I’d be considering retirement in the Bens instead of wondering now if I’ll have at least a tree to die under.  Slanche!!

The spirit world isn’t something to be messed with, laddie.  But I long to be in sync again with this crazy dude, gallivanting through traffic like we did with bow and arrow through rolling hills and desert plains.  I know there’s only one way to meet him and that is through higher consciousness, where we met, I guessed it was around the 7^th or 8^th dimension, on firm cognizant ground, he fed me the future and the students passed out, I saw auras in three realms, and I wrongly predicted something would happen in 2012.  Slanche you schmuck.

At the advanced level it is hoped, it is assumed, students would know how to write a simple sentence.  Some are not even close.  Oddly, there is one gal whose speaking skills are extraordinary but she can’t put a subject and a verb together.  What the blazes can I do with her?

I have another hour before I can safely crawl into me dirty bed so pray tell what can we do, watch tv, ay no you scallywag, remain here in front of the screen and muse mediocrity I will not. 

The king of this country continues to breathe, the local government newspaper publishes his weekly edicts regarding various appointments and letters to heads of state celebrating their independence days.  I suggested, I think I wrote it here but one cannot remember when there is a circular fan whirring its dusty blades and its getting closer, but I suggested they’re gonna keep the king alive as long as possible, like in that old Woody Allen film when nothing but a nose was in command.  As long as they keep the nose of the king alive all will be well in the sleepy hamlet alongside the Indian Ocean. 

I am a rambling Irish man.  Slanche.