Dressed down (way down) or up, a kilt is always appropriate in my book.
Playing a lap harp on the ground for me is like bathing a baby. There's tinkling sound of water and coos while you bend and stretch around, being soft and careful.
St. Brigid's cross. Woven from straw to show her father that all truth is interlocked together when she was trying to convert him from pre-Christian Celtic polytheism. (Can you tell by the great lengths I go to that I don't like the connotation of the word paganism--or even worse, heathenism?)
I would give most anything to own a piece like this someday.
2 comments:
Do you mean a "piece" like the first or second pics? I want to own one of them, too, honey!!!
Hey Heather,
I tried to comment the other day, but for some reason blogger ate my comment. I love love love your Irish themed page. And I really love the eye candy with the music.
Did you know I am part Irish?
Stout, and Courtney are in family's history only a generation back. I hope to go to Ireland someday!
Thanks for your recent comment on my blog. It is always a treat to read what you write. I have been following you and Doug's conversation. I can't really chime in cause well I would get lost:) But I do enjoy hearing your thoughts. I have always admired you. Anyway, I should get back to my work.
Happy St Patty's day!
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