Isn't It Grand, Boys...

[poliphilo]

So cold! I turned a tap on this morning and all I got was a trickle. I know what this means; it means the water has frozen in the pipes. But this isn't a horror story- the water gathered up speed and then came bursting through- I tell it to emphasise how cold it is.

I just lit a scented candle in the hall. I like to keep a candle burning there through the winter months- partly for the scent, but also for the small, friendly flame- a reminder of the king in exile- by which I mean the sun. The inlaws came to the door last week, saw the small friendly flame flickering through the glass, and thought the house was on fire.

My mother-in-law is given to thinking the worst.  For instance she doesn't want us to go down to Kent next week because- well- in this weather it's dangerous. I call it displacement anxiety. She worries about a multitude of little things so she doesn't need to worry about the one big thing. You know which big thing I'm talking about. Its name begins with a D.

My father-in-law acknowledges his fear of the D thing, with humour, with a certain gallantry. Struggling to get into the car the other night he said- half complaining, half joking- " I feel like an old man."  "Sorry father," said Ailz brightly, "but I don't know where to find you one at this time of night."

Ailz is currently revisiting her youth by playing the Clancys and Tommy Makem all the livelong day.  By a remarkable stroke of synchroncity they've just kicked off with that song that goes, "Isn't it grand, boys, to be bloody well dead."- which, of course, they all of them are now. I prefer the gallows vein in the Irish tradition to the stirring invocations to rise up and fight the English, because, frankly, I don't have the energy for that right now. You shoulder your pikes at the rising of the moon if you like, boys.  I'd rather stay in where it's warm.

Comments

[idahoswede.livejournal.com]

D, she's worried about dating and her married and all?!

[poliphilo.livejournal.com]

That's right. She's a flighty one, my ma-in-law.

[idahoswede.livejournal.com]

Well, given the fact the old man is looking for an old man, I guess I could see her point.

[queen-in-autumn.livejournal.com]

Ha!

[queen-in-autumn.livejournal.com]

Love the image of the sun as the king in exile and candles as a reminder. I've never heard it put quite that way before.

[poliphilo.livejournal.com]

To be honest, I'm not quite sure where that came from- but it seemed like a good idea, so I accepted it. :)

[pondhopper.livejournal.com]

Ailz' comment to her dad was brilliant!

[poliphilo.livejournal.com]

She's handy with the one-liners.

[oakmouse]

ROTFLMAO at Ailz' comment to her dad!

I was once at a music party where the host was receiving chemotherapy for a nasty, fast-acting cancer with a low survival rate. One of the guests, too drunk to be tactful, launched into that very song. Nobody sang it with more vigor than the host --- who not only survived the chemo, but is now 5+ years cancer-free. I suspect his attitude had something to do with his survival.

[poliphilo.livejournal.com]

Tiptoeing round death is a big mistake. He's there, waiting for all of us- and we might as well make a friend of him and include him in the party.

[sovay]

I like to keep a candle burning there through the winter months- partly for the scent, but also for the small, friendly flame- a reminder of the king in exile- by which I mean the sun.

Nice.

By a remarkable stroke of synchroncity they've just kicked off with that song that goes, "Isn't it grand, boys, to be bloody well dead."- which, of course, they all of them are now.

All recordings, sooner or later, become ghosts. Some of them are just more apropos than others.

[poliphilo.livejournal.com]

I'm not entirely sure where that image came from, but I like it.

Strange isn't it- how we sing along with ghosts- laugh and emote with ghosts.