Thank you Lily Lemontree!

I have been so busy with the little Rat Pack during Spring Break that I was remiss in thanking Lily. She gave me the wonderful opportunity to write on her blog about my style icon Edward Herrmann.
I've mentioned her before, but it can not be said too much . This lady is a joy to visit. Always up beat and interesting, she is one of the people you need to unwind with after a day out in the world!
If you don't know her please go now and enjoy! http://lilylemontree.blogspot.com

A gentle nudge

I arose this morning feeling quite pleased with myself for no particular reason. The sun was out, the first cup of coffee was all that I had hoped for and Angus the Scottie had made it through another night with no surprises. After the shave and shower I dressed in my favorite ensemble.
Plain front khakis, blue button down, and cordovan leather belt for starters. Then pulled weejuns over argyle socks. Man I was styling. Put on the aviator shades and drove down to the local shopping emporium to run a few errands. As I swung my leg out of the car, I felt a rush of cool air in my knickers! I had failed to zip up after my last visit to the head. Thank you Lord I got the message. I was suitably humble the rest of the day.

Erin go bragh

A pair of tourists were driving through rural America. One a fine gentleman from London, the other an Irish farmer. As luck would have it their car broke down. They found a small farm just as darkness came upon them. The owner welcomed them , but explained there was only room for one in the house. Someone would have to sleep in the small barn with the pigs. Always the gentleman the Londoner said he would sleep in the barn. A short time after they all had settled down for the night there was a knock at the door. It was the Gent explaining that the snores and the awful smell of the pigs was all too much. The Irishman said he'd go, after all he was a farmer and used to pigs. Everyone had just gotten to sleep when there was another knock at the door. It was the pigs.
An old joke I know, but then so am I. Happy St Patrick's Day!

latin lesson

I have been so sappy( I can't think of another word for it) lately I decided to share the dark side. I give you "The Look". I am looking at one of my chowder-headed nephews. He has incurred my wrath by giggling at the start of my daughter's wedding. The giggling ceased. This look freezes runaway toddlers, quiets meowing cats and makes growling dogs cower.It has wrenched confessions from errant teenagers,some of them had done nothing wrong. It is a power I don't take lightly. Of course it helps that I'm 6' 4" , 275lbs., kinda like Lurch. Well OK a lot like Lurch. I should mention all it gets from my wife is a snort, not very becoming I remind her ( yeah right!) .
Oh the Latin lesson, supercilious : having or displaying disdain or haughtiness. From the Latin supercilium meaning eyebrow, as in arched. The arched part always amazed my daughters when they were little. They tried so hard to arch their eyebrows I would lose my momentum and smile at them. Sigh.....so much for Mr Tough Guy.

PS: My wife doesn't know I blog!

For some strange reason I was remembering the first time my mother meet my wife. We had just started to date ,this is right after the previously mentioned Notre Dame game. My mother had come north to see her mother, my sainted red headed Irish grandmother. Mom commented later"How old is that child? She can't be more than 16!" She was 20, to this day I don't think my mother believed me. They never hit it off too well. Mom was a big fan of my first betrothed,even though she dumped me on Christmas Eve! My wife has always looked about ten years younger than she is. People always commented how she didn't look old enough to have a child in high school, college, etc. . Another comment I heard often was" How did you end up with her?" What can I say, clean living and fancy footwork.
I guess what started this was watching her sleep last Sunday morning. Sunlight is a cruel illumination in the morning. Every flaw seems to be highlighted. Time has begun to catch up.Yet she seemed to me to still be as lovely to look at as she had been 37 years ago. Now what I see is the strong loving woman who has accomplished so much. Is she a saint,no hardly. Can she be a real bitch, you betcha. Of course I usually give her a good reason. What she is can be summed up nicely, she's my wife. I know this post is so sappy it's probably making some of you sick to your stomachs. But those of you who have that someone in your life, you get it. In this age of Letterman and Woods people need to celebrate the true relationship . If you're going to leave a comment, make it about your mate. For those of you with upset stomachs I am truly sorry, on so many levels.

This past Saturday my favorite nephew got married to the most delightful young woman. They made a lovely couple. They were both athletes in college. He played baseball and she was a swimmer. The wedding took place in a beautiful Catholic church in a quaint college town. However what I'm gonna remember best is what these two photos show.
Gabe's Mom dressed him in the cord blazer. When he came out to the car he had added the scarf and shades. Come on now for a seven year old that's styling!
The other is of the men's room at the reception . These heads went all around the room. There is only one shot, because after the flash went off I realized the stall was occupied. I quietly got the hell out of there. Good times.

It is a very, very fine line between sharing your thoughts and being a painfully boring old man. I seem to skate back and forth. So to avoid being the latter I present Ethan in his brown herringbone vest. He is nearly two, hard to believe. Some of you may remember what my daughter went through to have him. Life is so sweet when I hear "Ganda". Yes you guessed it,I am a well and contented man.