Irish Humour

It's all in the delivery...

The Truest Definition of Love

Our hearts are broken.

Where can we possibly begin?

This man, John “Don” Smith, although small of stature, possessed the heart of a giant. He had an iron will, but always that feather-soft heart, and his kind and happy nature rippled outwards endlessly and touched everyone he met.

He spread goodwill wherever the day – or his van – took him and he greeted everyone, new friend and old, with a cheerful smile and caring interest – and always a joke and a laugh. A genuine man, he never forgot a name, face or a story. To all these people, he was a friend. To us, his lucky, lucky loved ones, he was and still is our everything.

He was filled to the brim with unconditional love for us and even as we, his children, grew up, he continued to love and care for us as if we were still his little kids he chased around and tickled and pulled silly faces for and protected and tried to slip ‘a few bob’ to, even when we didn’t need it and he didn’t really have it. Completely and utterly selfless. He just wouldn’t take no for an answer. Through our adulthood, he continued to soothe our wounds, those both on the surface and buried deep. He filled his time with loving us and never wavered in his pride of us, even when we made mistakes, even in those times when we may not have deserved it. He redefined the true meaning of what it is to be a father, and we feel indescribably rich because of this.

He loved our Mam, right up to this past Wednesday, in the same delighting and romantic way, as he did the day he first spotted her at a football match forty-four years ago. He said just this past week, that when she kissed him, it felt the same as it had when they had first met; that feeling just never wavered. Over and over, he made sure that she and everyone around her knew that she was his rock. And she was. And he was hers. A very amazing and fortunate twosome.

He loved to make us laugh with his funny asides, and even funnier two-step, and was always the bright moment in any shade of grey day. He never complained; something to aspire to. He turned every challenge into his almost patented ‘play it by ear’ mentality. Turning every negative into a positive. This is why today is so hard. If he were here, he would be the one cheering us up, making it alright and keeping us bolstered. That was our Da. He taught us the important things in life by example; manners, forethought and caring for others through his goodwill and positive, shining attitude and tenacious nature. Fiercely protective, we only ever really saw him angry or upset when one of us he loved was slighted or hurt in any way. He taught us to work hard and play fair. To treat people well, as we’d wish to be treated, and to never take anything for granted – to be gracious. To have a sense of humor - and never forget to laugh at ourselves. To be grateful. He also taught us to play cards, snooker and dominoes. He taught us well, but beat us at our own game every time; a life lesson in and of itself. We carry him within us and will take these things wherever we go and in whatever we do, never doubting it will help make us become better and better human beings each and every step of the way.

Always a Gent, always kind and generous, always loving us. If he were here today, he would be so, so happy and so grateful to see you all, and being the very humble man that he was, so surprised to discover that he was loved to such an extent by so many.

We are bereft… and at this exceedingly hard time, when the sadness for us is just too much to bear, and in those all too frequent and wrenchingly painful moments where his absence washes over us, drowning us in what feels like a shower of stones, somewhere inside we still recognize that these memories will bring us untold comfort and begin refilling this crippling emptiness in our hearts. The light that has disappeared from us will peek through the cracks and waves. It will take a different form, but it will buoy us and push us back up to the surface. And we’ll eventually be able to breathe - and even truly laugh again.

So we will remember him dancing and singing and joking and loving us. And we will never, ever forget the mischievous twinkle in those eyes, in that face of his, that we love so dearly. We truly wish everyone in the world was as lucky as we know we are.

Thank you so very, very much for being here with us, whether near or from far away, and for the kindnesses you’ve all shown. Take care and know you each held a very special place in that heart of his. After all, he had more than plenty of room in there for everyone.

Much love,

Don’s family
October 10, 2009

A Site for Sore Eyes

Check out this link, bathe - in fact dive, cannonball, splash around or just float, in the beauty of these photos. And while you're at it, if you'd be so kind, please take a moment to vote for this great photographer:

PlanetPlumb by Kristin L. Griffin

Only one week of voting left!

Grassy Ass! :)

Geek Test!

Mission Possible

There'll be a lot of happy tears tonight! Ah, Bill.

The Spice of Life

It's been quite a while since I've written anything. Sorta by accident, kinda by design.

I had wondered, if I just didn't write anything, anymore, would I care? I've come to the conclusion that, like drugs for some and cheese for me, the yen to sit down and scribble is something I apparently can't escape. If I didn't laugh, I'd cry. Maybe.

I've sat down this morning, with not much in mind. Well, there's always something rattling around in there, but I didn't have my usual "ah, that's what I'll post about" feeling. Truth be told, I'm bored. Too tired and lazy to do the mundane necessities today, so for once, my procrastination has sent me to write. Quite the conundrum, as it's usually the other way around. So, again, if I meander in my ramblings, wander off track and get caught in the nettles, just indulge me and leave me there with a stinging bum.

Hmm, what to write... I'm surrounded by friends, who, along with suffering their 9 to 5s, harbour secret and not so secret desires to fulfill their lives with something else. Not more, per se, just well, else. Something, that if we could wave a magic wand, our lives would be transformed. Not that their lives - or mine - for that matter, are bad at all. It's just that something that inspires you, lights you up from the inside and gleams in your eyes when you talk about it. The promise that you'll do 'it' someday. Some day we won't be slave to 'the man'. But there'll always be a man. He may not have you in an office for eight hours a day, but he's still there. However, I'd take it. And laugh and laugh. Even more than is usual for me.

My myriad family members, friends and acquaintances are a melting pot of talent just waiting for a different type of man to transport them to another realm. Some day your beautiful photos will hang in galleries worldwide. They will see what I see. Some day your band will be famous. Some day, my travelling friend, you'll sell that piece. Some day, you'll sing more than Karaoke. Some day, a renowned graphic designer! Some day, you'll be costumer to great directors. Some day, my funny friend, you will swap statistics for sitcoms. Some day, you'll make a dent with that charity. Some day, your lovely movies will be loved by more than us! Some day you can give your family its every desire. Some day. Done! Don't you wish it was that easy? Or would easy be too much? I used to work with a guy, very funny guy, who when we used to talk about winning the lottery, selling a script, whatever and inevitably it would culminate in us "rolling in it", some of us would talk about how it absolutely wouldn't 'change' us. He would look us straight in the eye and say "I'll be honest. I'd be the biggest asshole ever. The biggest dick you'd ever meet." And we'd laugh and roll. Only partially because we knew it would probably be absolutely true. Honest.

But here we are today. Plugging away to make the necessities of life. Stringing it all together. Bills and worries and day-to-day grind, like the majority of humans. I liken that chain to those paper dolls we used to cut out as kids. I never liked them all the same, so would color and feature each one differently. That's how I see life. The chain that connects family and friends, all different. I see my friends and loved ones dangling on those paper strings, some smiling, some scowling, some sad, but give 'em a good shake and they dance. And they make my day.

The best thing you can do for yourself is surround yourself with great friends and family. You can't help but laugh and enjoy the moments. I rank humour and laughter, particularly with those you care about, to be of the utmost importance. To stop and just laugh. It's what keeps us all going when those paper dragons are snapping at our heels. It's amazing how much more we can take, with friends around to make you laugh and push you on, and vice-versa, when life spoons on the absurd. When there are things to cry about. It's certainly not always 'the hills are alive' and all that all the time, but as long as there's a pulse in that mound...

I've long known too, that humor can take you far, or at the very least, a couple of steps upwind of the whip. I've often been told that I get away with murder because of my, shall we say, turn of phrase. I would probably tend to agree, as there's no other possible explanation, it seems. I like to be straight and honest. Maybe Oscar Wilde had something with his "If you want to tell people the truth, make them laugh, otherwise they'll kill you" observation. There definitely might be something to that one, in light of the fact that I'm still ticking.

At this point, I'll reference him again, and agree: "I'm not young enough to know everything", and I'll add: but not too young not to know when I have it really good. Sometimes, that knowledge makes me laugh.

Working Week

Giddy-up Tuesday
Thursday soon
before we know it
Sunday noon

Support The Historic Bill to End Canada's Commercial Seal Hunt

Please follow the link to read about and support the end to the needless, heartless and cruel treatment involved in the Canadian Seal Hunt:

Stop Seal Hunting

Please... It only takes a couple of minutes. Those defenseless animals have nobody but us to speak up for them.

Thanks.

How d'ya like dem apples?

I e-filed my taxes last week and tonight I decided, ah, seems like a rainy day thing to do, I'll take a look to see when I should expect the refund.

I put in the required information and well, here's the message I received:

****


Check Your Refund Status - Result

Your return has been received and processed, however, your refund cannot be issued at this time.

Due to the state’s persistent cash and budget problems, the State Controller has directed FTB to stop sending refund requests to the State Controller’s Office for payment. Refund payments will resume when the State Controller indicates there is enough cash available to make refund payments.

****

Now, I wonder if I owed and used the same excuse would I avoid penalties and interest up the wazoo and/or the big house? Hmmm. I'm guessing nope.

Go try for yourself at the link below... it's a fun little game to amuse yourselves while you rub your non-existent pennies together. Go on, it'll be fun, tons of fun - and best of all, it's free!

https://webapp.ftb.ca.gov/Refund/Login.aspx

Enjoy. You can thank me with IOU flowers.

Brain on the Lam!

I woke up at 4am this morning. Now, to people who know me, this is not all that unusual. I'm also one of those weird, unfortunates, who, once awake, is AWAKE!

For some unknown reason, though, I woke up with a story in my head; something that, if I actually got it down on paper, just might be of interest to my little nephew.

I opened my eyes, looked at the clock in despair and then got fueled up with the idea that at least I could fill my time with something. Of course, I was starving, so I had to have my breakfast. After gobbling in a way you can only do alone, I sat down, with computer and pad in front of me - so there would be no excuses.

I sat poised, pen in hand, and I thought. I thought about my grocery list, my bushy eyebrows that need an appointment with the weed whacker; my laundry, my family, my friends, my bike, the weather... the list goes on. I did the dishes, fed my cat, called home, surfed the web and sat down again. 9am, really?

I decided to move location - I took my pad and pen and went from the couch to my table and chairs in the sun outside. I wrote a few lines and then over the next ten minutes, differing neighbours said the following - in no particular order: "Hello!" "Hey" "Hey D, you don't have to write me love letters, just tell me!" "Hey" "The government knows there's Martians, you know" "Happy King Day!" "You got a hair cut!" "My cat is beautiful, no?" "You smell nice" "Hello" and "It's a pink day, yes?"

Now, I'm quite the sociable "Hiya, howya doin'" type of person, but I had a pen and paper in hand and I looked severely constipated. Constipated, people!

Well meaning as it (mostly) all is, I came back inside.

I have now forgotten what I wanted to get at the grocery store, have made an eyebrow appointment for later this week and a snack sounds good. NO!

Oh crap, mocking is catching. My brain is actually costive now. It's also making a weird clicking noise.

Okay, back to it...

But you know, before I make my nephew slay any dragons, get swallowed whole by his Nintendo DS or steal any treasure, I'll just make a quick cup of coffee first.