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Pogueish
I have a propensity to wake at sunrise. On the one hand it's nice to be clued into the rhythms of nature, on the other I don't think I'm getting enough sleep.
I was having dreams with an Irish theme- in which- among other things- I found myself at some sort of a ceilidh belabouring an instrument I couldn't play and singing raucously. Thankfully I had bandmates who covered for my deficiencies. The song we were performing was a loud, raw, drink-sodden Pogueish thing.
Why Irish? Perhaps because I went to sleep thinking about Karen Bradley, the Northern Ireland Secretary, who keeps saying things that demonstrate her ignorance of Ireland and her ignorance of politics in general. I don't know a great deal about them either, but I know more than she does- and that's not how it should be.
I was having dreams with an Irish theme- in which- among other things- I found myself at some sort of a ceilidh belabouring an instrument I couldn't play and singing raucously. Thankfully I had bandmates who covered for my deficiencies. The song we were performing was a loud, raw, drink-sodden Pogueish thing.
Why Irish? Perhaps because I went to sleep thinking about Karen Bradley, the Northern Ireland Secretary, who keeps saying things that demonstrate her ignorance of Ireland and her ignorance of politics in general. I don't know a great deal about them either, but I know more than she does- and that's not how it should be.