Grandmothers and Woodcutters; Love and Security26 October 2013
Three Weeks Down. Where’re we at?28 October 2013
My alarm clock app is set to gently wake me up each day fading in a randomly played track from a playlist I’ve put together of gentle tunes. In this playlist are a fair number of Celtic Women songs, and this morning I arose to Isle of Inisfree. The opening lyrics are as follows:
I’ve met some folks who say that I’m a dreamer,
And I’ve no doubt there’s truth in what they say,
But sure a body’s bound to be a dreamer,
When all the things he loves are far away.
And precious things are dreams unto an exile.
They take him o’er the land across the sea
Especially when it happens he’s an exile,
From that dear lovely Isle of Inisfree.
This is very much where I’m at. I feel like all the things I desire and yearn for are very far away and all I’m left with are daydreams.