I hate basketball. And I reserve a special disdain for college basketball.

Oh yes, you read that right. I seriously, deeply, thoroughly despise it. "Wake me when it's over," is one of my familiar quotes this time of year. "Hoops are for poops" is a mantra that I have taken up over years of NCAA worship in my childhood home.

So this weekend, the person I probably enjoy most in the world, my dad, is coming to visit. My brother just sent me a warning e-mail. 

Subject line: Hoops are for Poops

E-mail:  Pa is headed your way and he is addicted to college basketball.

I can see that whole commandment about honoring mothers and fathers will be sorely tested this weekend.

Three of my favorite people were born today.  I wonder what special stars were in the sky to bring these folks into the world:

VGM. The most recent friend, a rare gift in adulthood. Super sharp and focused, epitome of discipline. Also very fun, literate and grounded. Warning: do not use phrase "red headed stepchild" around her. One of the best things about Nashville.

EAN. Artistic and gentle. Steadfast. The same today as she was 30 years ago when we were teenagers. Sickening, really.

My mom.  Other-oriented and full of love. Just back from a trip to Disney World and still talking about it.  Beautiful inside and out. Better today than at any time in the past. Words are not enough. Best. mom. ever.

Happy birthday to all!

I look forward to Oscar Night. Save your snarky judgment, I don't make you watch it.

So it's with great sadness that I say, this is so boring that even I have lost interest. I saw and liked most of the nominated films. But it's just excruciating to watch this. You know it's boring when the best idea is to show how good the hosts were 40 years ago.

And so I'm off to bed. Thank goodness for the digital video recorder. Oh yeah, I'll watch the rest tomorrow (and double thank goodness for fast-forward).

I can't believe it's been a month since our wonderful Burns Night adventure. I kind of sneaked this post in — don't miss it. A main goal for 2011 accomplished!

BELFAST — One of the things I like most about Bittles is that I always meet someone interesting when I go there. The streak continued Saturday as KER and I lent a chair at our table to a man who resembled actor Jamie Cromwell (the farmer in "Babe").

We began to chat, as you do, and it turned out he was visiting from the Isle of Man. He enjoys Northern Ireland for long walks so he and KER (a history of half-marathons, at least one full marathon and counting) really hit it off. They especially chatted about the Isle of Man Parish Walk, a seemingly grueling 85 miles in less than 24 hours. I think this is KER's new life goal.

We didn't spend a lot of time with this Manx gentleman but we learned a lot about the Manx culture. The Manx have a very cool three-legged symbol (armored! with spurs! the Scots are envious) and motto roughly translated: "No matter where you throw me, I shall stand." This appears on the Isle of Man's pounds and the island has its own Royal Mail, which is where our new acquaintance works. He participated in their 2011 charity calendar — think "Calendar Girls" but with postal accessories. He told us he posed au natural on the calendar cover with other employees, concealed by strategically placed mailbags. I thought this was hilarious and was spinning dozens of off-color postal jokes in my head but he beat me to the punchline:

"Yes, some people teased that a postage stamp should have been sufficient."

BELFAST — The three most dangerous words in Northern Ireland are not "What's your religion?" but "Just one more." That's the encouragement to stay later and to keep ordering pints.

I was no stranger to pubs during my time in NI, but it was not the center of my social universe. I did have a couple favorites, so I enjoyed visiting my top three for an outing with colleagues on Saturday. The John Hewitt was our first stop — it's named after a poet, how couldn't you love it? We had a lovely lunch and a long chat before KER and I continued on to White's Tavern, which claims to be Belfast's oldest pub. It's really the coziest, I think. Oh, these are definitely "old man's pubs," not trendy clubs. This induces a desire to stay. Time stops. We sat by the fire and watched life go by.

The we "just one more"d ourselves over to Bittles.

ALLOWAY – For more than three years I’ve had a notion to attend a Burns Supper. That’s underselling it a bit: a campaign to attend a Burns Supper is a more accurate description of my desire to go to this Ploughman Poet celebration.  

My friend CRJ is a Scotsman’s Scotman, and when I told him that 2011 was The Year of the Burns Supper for me, he was on the case. CRJ delivered the gold standard of Burns Suppers, an absolutely perfect night.

We attended a black-tie (Scottish = formal kilts) event in the nexus of Burns Country. One speaker referred to our exact location at the Brig O’ Doon House Hotel as “the epicenter of Burns”:  The banquet room faced the banks of the River Doon and a bridge where Tam O’Shanter just may have made his escape; the hotel stood across the road from the Alloway Auld Kirk where Burns’ father rests in peace (and where the witches danced); the Burns Monument was a stone’s throw away, beyond that, the new Robert Burns Birthplace Museum and just further afield, the cottage with the small corner where Rabbie came into the world.

I ask you, how much more Burns could it get?

Continue reading “‘epicentre of burns’” →

 Q1: Are you a wee man between the age of 55 and 65?

 Q2: Can you rock a pair of plaid pants?

 Q3: Are you adorable enough to make middle-aged American visitors want to come give you a hug cuddle?

I talked to my brother for a just a few minutes on the phone — that's how we roll — and caught up on what's happening in his household today.

Everyone there was gearing up for NFL games and dinner, to be made by Nephew #1, as he does every other Saturday night.  I got the update on the boys' various activities and chores when a light-hearted wrestling match broke out in the back room, so there was a play-by-play on that.  And the weather report: cold.

I hung up thinking about the happy clatter that came through the phone, and I pictured the little-boy storm rolling around the residence. It's a three-ring circus, non-stop action, and I like how my nephews are growing up. It's not by chance.

There's a lot in the news this week about parenting styles, and debate over what is the right mix of discipline and freedom. That is the eternal question!  Raising kids is the toughest job in the world and my brother and sister-in-law are doing it very well. Wish I could be there for dinner tonight (I think).   

Today it was 65 degrees and sunny. I sat on the deck and read magazines. I ignored my to-do list for the afternoon. How many 65-degree, sunny, vacation afternoons do you get? 

I put down the magazines after a while and just thought, marveled, really, over the past year. So many blessings in one 12-month space. This was not a year of significant change for me. I don’t think I met one new person in 2011. But it was one of the richest, deepest years in recent memory because of time spent with special people from throughout my entire life. I sat back and enjoyed the heck out of it. This past year had lots of sunny afternoons.

I think I covered most of the highlights in the Thanksgiving poem but how about a “Best of 2010” list to close out the year? Here goes:

Continue reading “mapgirl’s year in review” →