More from the Irish (see my 4/18 entry). This little gem comes courtesy of an Irish scribe copying a Latin commentary on Virgil sometime in the ninth century. He slipped his own short poem in the pages of the scholarly work.

I and Pangur Ban my cat
‘Tis a like task that we are at:
Hunting mice is his delight,
Hunting words I sit all night.

‘Tis a merry thing to see
At our tasks how glad are we,
When at home we sit and find
Entertainment to our mind.

‘Gainst the wall he sets his eye,
Full and fierce and sharp and sly;
‘Gainst the wall of knowledge I
All my little wisdom try.

So in peace our task we ply,
Pangur Ban my cat and I;
In our arts we find our bliss,
I have mine and he has his.

Needless to say, our next feline will be a Pangur Ban.

For those of you interested in our current moving/job status, we may finally be on the cusp of knowing what we’re doing. Art Within is holding an investor luncheon next Monday (May 5), at which point we should learn whether or not there’s funding for my full-time script development position. Prayers appreciated!

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Having moved into this house in mid-August, we’re discovering certain unnoticed “features” of our home as we enter new seasons. Like how bloody cold the mud room is in the dead of winter. But this morning, I awoke to a rather surprising sight. Overnight, the trees in front of our house bloomed with new flowers, making what seemed to be ordinary budding trees into something a little more spectacular. I’m sure in a few days the petals will drop onto the sidewalk and make for a nice slimy mess, but right now it adds some pause-inducing aesthetic (and fragrance) to our otherwise uninspiring front walk.

Babe, sorry you’re missing out… (she’s in Chicago this week)

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I’m immersed in this fantastic book right now…and no, it doesn’t involve potatoes. I may be moved to write further reflections when I finish (how terrible that we’ve reduced St. Patrick to Hallmark greetings!), but I was struck by a lovely little bit last evening as I read.

When early Europeans created maps that frayed to uncharted territories on the edges, they wrote a dire phrase across the unknown expanse:

here do be monsters

How apt! In fact, I’m co-opting it for my own use. So very often, just when I start to get used to the lay of the land, God shoves me on into new waters, unmapped wilds. I KNOW the monsters are watching me with their beady little eyes, leering from the dark. I can hear them breathing…

Nothing for it but some dragon slaying.

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We finally busted out our outdoor wedding gift (thanks Shawn and Maria!) and went for a spin. Okay, it was in the living room, but it’s always best to stumble through first-time assembly in private. Neither of us are rugged outdoor types who can pitch any tent with our eyes closed, in driving rain, at night. Still, we’re anxious to get out there and camp. The season is nigh.

Sorry I couldn’t get a smile out of the wife. She preferred to pose in the tent’s “natural use” state.

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The other day we were out thrifting (actually I was sort of tagging along) and while Liz picked and poked through various assorted finds, I was drawn briefly to the wall of discarded toys. In all of its colorful glory, there’s still something a bit somber about a mass collection of mostly broken playthings, enjoyed for a time, but now dirty and forgotten, living out their last hopeful moments in thrift purgatory. But salvation awaited one item that I was shocked and delighted to see, smiling out in familiar joy: a Snausage treat jar. Yes, not exactly a toy, but to the eye of a thrift store employee, a rose by any other name, I guess.

One had to actually send away for this thing via so many UPCs and addtional cash, waiting so many weeks for it to be shipped. But with two properly installed AAs, a lift of the head issues forth a comical little expression of “snausages!”. Filled with the right doggie treat, the jar made for a nice pavlovian apparatus that would bring my dog Marty running and barking. Ben K. often enjoyed torturing Marty this way.

So you’re wondering, why would I want to now own two of these things, especially when I don’t currently have a dog? Who knows. It was a buck. And it’s still fun. I can only imagine though, setting them both off might have made Marty’s head explode.

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