Once again.. hello there and O’my…I haven’t been here for a little while

hillwalkingCan you see me?

Not surprised if you can’t .. I’m taking the picture !

Hello and thank you for clicking on .

I have been remiss in the attention towards this site over the last while- and thank you to those who contacted me and asked what the heck was going on in Drumshanbo. You’ve done two things to me -1)  you made me remember to get back on -line with this and 2) you’ve made me nervous .

Albeit , its a good nervousness that I’m having- the kind that makes me want to dot my i’s and cross my t’s and set the table and clean the window ledges. Its just that kinda nervous feeling I get when I have the sneaking suspicion someone is about the drop over without notice- someone for whom home keeping a vital component of time management and that next to God -like feeling……

Nevertheless…. whats happening….O’boy… let me say this much- MUCHO… thats whats going on. MUCHO stuff is happening.But I only have so many hours in the day…. lets do the highlights…

The week following St Patrick’s ( duh… OK here already I’m in trouble cause I don’t have St Paddy’s pictures at my disposal-yet.. but I will I promise I promise) Trust me, we had fun, we worked hard, I’m so glad St Patrick’s is a holiday and how I wish that the 18th of March was also a holiday. In fact, I so wished for a holiday that I decided to do some pretty serious detoxing beginning with pyssillum husks and warm soya milk.  Sounds un-natural to some but believe you me , it was a great way to move along a lot of waste material in me old colon. But I didn’t stop there- I went out and ordered some Benotine volcanic ash.

Now you’re probably thinking that if I had waited till this month I could have spared myself the expensive and did a little job with the dust pan and I would have all the volcanic ash my indigestions could want- but how was I to know? So I flashed out the money to import this clay and mixed it with husks and viola,  the husks carted away a heap of waste and the clay attracted the heavy metals in my bowels like flies to… ointment and though it gave a wicked headache, I was cleaning myself inside and sideways ( or ass backwards as they say) And then ,, I did one of those entirely brilliantly stupid things.. I went on a very serious drinking session with these two men…

dbc-pierre DBC Pierre

(aka Peter Finlay)

Booker Prizer winner 2004   “Vernon God Little”

AND……………………………ed-deaneEd Deane– one of UK’s finest blues guitar player now back living in Ireland.

(I must say though we participated in the joys of the spirits till the we hours of the morning, none disgraced themselves  and that was quite an achievement -given the amount consumed.)

We three are working on a performance piece based on Peter’s writing ( should be ready to go in September when Peter releases his third book) and to get to know each other a bit better, we had a very serious drinking session at Peter’s house, the 1930 Irish brothel house… not my story, you’ll have to get him to tell you about it.

Then, for the entire week that followed, I was spent trying to keep up with the obscene amount of drink that had been offered to me. Everyone…everyone wanted to buy me a drink…..How it is that I am not alcoholic is beyond me. Why I couldn’t just say “No Thanks”, is also beyond me…..ugh…

Resulting in…  my underarms started to hurt. Felt weird in my armpits and I had the distinct impression that I have caused myself some damage.

So, WHOA  says I .img_2285

Now since February I have had some odd dreams- I dream, constantly , of going to school. Not that I am in school per se but I dream of  dropping people off at school, or find myself walking past a school, then once I dreamed was speeding by a cop and I double backed to find him and explain that I didn’t mean to drive so fast and then I hear my dog whining,  followed the sound into a school and there was my only dog, on the top of a school locker and two older women sitting beside it , talking to me while I took her off the locker. The women also helped me locate where the pain was coming from on my dog and I pulled out a long wooden stick from her soft belly. Bizarre

I told my dream to  someone I trust and he interpreted it and suggested that I  go school.  This is my higher consciousness education he was talking about. Okay fine says I , are you my teacher?

( Because he is a brilliant and gifted individual)

Nope says he, I’m not a teacher, I just share what I’ve learnt…. Fair enough says I.

I’ll keep looking…

Then.. I had this little conversation  with my Spirit of Death.

The last time I ventured  working with this Guide she told me in no uncertain term to FIGHT FOR MY LIFE. I took it to face value and really pressed along with the writing work I have….which is good very good.. I leap over some hurdles and the story is way cool- the book isn’t finished but it will be soon.

In this second mediation with my Spirit of Death, she tells me to go to New York.

Oh….fine… good.

I call my shaman and booked a session.  I’m very , very nervous….I didn’t think that I could even go to an altered state because i was so freaked out. When I received this message from the Spirit of Death my inbox on the email account suddenly was flooded with messages from New York. People had apartments for rent, events were happening and suddenly I was finding myself thinking “How do I get to New York, right now???”

jacques-derrida( not my bookshelf….)

I explain my predicament to Simone the Shaman and she couldn’t see what the problem was.

We have many strings that pull us a myrid of directions , says she,

( something like that.)

Go see where these strings lead.

Yeah, okay.. I understand… this is how I felt ten years ago when deciding to leave Canada for unknown lands… namely Ireland…but how strange is it that the Spirit of Death should tell me to go to the Big Apple.

Not so strange, says Simone, in the Merlin Tarot the  Death card is also called The Apple Woman She’s depicted holding an apple.

NO Way, says I.

Oh man…….how cool is that……………………..?

img_2297

The lessons that I am learning at this time is to pay attention to my dreams and to live for my dreams because if the truth be told there is no other place I’d rather down than a New York City street and though I don’t care to leave Ireland for good, (the craic is mighty lads) I have a dream and in that dream I am in the Big Apple.

green-appleGraciously, I thank you for clicking in and humbly ask that you too take a bite from that which dangles in your dreams.

And for the record, I’ve been sober twenty days….I’ve never been so long without drink….funny, I don’t understand how it is  I still feel absolutely sloshed….

All the best. Nevertheless,

always eileen

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