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There once was a pair
newly married
who liked to climb rocks
while they tarried.
But it wasn't yet clear
what young lions should fear
Or just how much debt
should be carried.
The age of contentment - the turning point in life at which one obtaines financial freedom, rising salaries, climbing of ‘corporate’ ladders, being debt free and not worrying about what others think.
Candid portrait of a contented Viking.
St. Ives Medieval Faire, Sydney
September, 2019
“Ahem…seeing as you’re all here, let’s begin, the solicitor began. “The document reads as follows…” He was squinting. “Would someone find a light switch? I can’t see in this bloody darkness.”
“Ahem… now as I was saying…I, Patrick Paul Downes, residing in the city of Sligo, of the same county, Ireland, and being of sound mind, this, the twenty-seventh day of August, in the year of our Lord two thousand twenty-four, hear-by appoint Mr. Fred (Freddy Duh) Mavins, of Sligo executor of my estate on confirmation of my death.”
“Ah, shite,” Mary Quinn, sister of the deceased, whispered to her twin sister, Maggie. “The eejit went and done it. And Freddy Duh isn’t even here. If there was work in the bed, Freddy would sleep on the floor.”
“Hush, Mary. Shut up and listen to the man,” Maggie replied.
“The executor shall promptly pay any and all outstanding debts and assignments….”
The sisters and others had already quit listening to the legal boilerplate, and were eyeing the tea pot and biscuits that had been brought in and placed on a nearby table.
“I hate to admit it, but I’m glad Yuki left. I never liked having that foreign girl here. Pat Paul was better off without the woman,” Mary hissed.
Maggie put her hand on Mary’s leg. “Settle down. We said what was needed to be said. Today will be our reward.”
“Why did we have to be here so damn early in the morning?” Jimmy Joyce muttered under his breath. Seven AM? Christ almighty. He had cows to feed. Well, then again, maybe old Pat Paul would have though about that; hence the early hour.
“Ahem.” Declan O’Connor, the solicitor, tried to make eye contact with the group.
‘Now, the distribution of the estate is as follows…’’
That seemed to work, O’Connor noted. All eyes were upon him. You could hear the proverbial pin drop.
“To my lifelong fishing buddy, Jimmy Joyce, I leave my 17-foot lake boat, my Yamaha 5 horsepower engine, and all my fishing gear.“
Jimmy Joyce beamed. Pat Paul always went first class when it came to fishing. God bless ya, Jimmy thought.
“To my local parish, my church, Our Lady of Eternal Sorrows, and that lovely new priest, Father Akachukwu, recently arrived from Nigeria, I leave ten thousand Euro, to be used toward the recompense of people abused in their National School during the 1950s… the 1960s…the 1970s… the 1980s…
Father Akachukwu beamed.
Having little English, Father Akachukwu had no idea what had just been said, but he had heard his name, and knew what ten thousand Euro was.
Now we’re getting to the meat on the table, Maggie thought to herself.
“To my son, Patrick Paul Junior, who fecked off to America twenty years ago, and never sent so much as a postcard, I leave one Euro.”
Mary and Maggie gasped.
Patrick Paul Junior, who had at last returned to the auld sod for the reading of the will, spit on the rug and left the room; never, it was imagined by those in attendance, ever to be seen again.
“If I hurry, I maybe can catch the noon flight out of Shannon,” he thought to himself, as he fumbled for his mobile phone and the keys to the hire car. “The old gobshite…”
“To my sisters, Mary, and Mildred,” (who winced at hearing her given name) “Despite their constant bickering, and meddling in my affairs, I leave the remainder of my estate.”
Mary and Maggie beamed.
A month earlier, Patrick Paul Downes, knowing he was dying, had strolled into Mullaney’s in town and purchased a new suit, a couple of shirts, and a sharp looking necktie.
He’d then walked to the other side of the shop, to Mullaney’s travel agency, and had them arrange for airfare, a hotel, plus a car and driver, for a long-overdue holiday abroad. He wore the suit out of the shop, lacking a final tailoring, but suitable for his next task.
He stopped at the Bank of Ireland, whose manager knew him well, to arrange for a loan for the full market value of his property. The manager looked at Pat Paul; looked at the suit, and determined Pat Paul must of made a killing on the ponies at the local horse track. Loan approved.
Taking all the cash and life savings he’d gathered from beneath his mattress at home, he flew off to Monte Carlo a few days later. Pat Paul went to the grand casino, marched up to the first roulette table he saw, and bet it all on black. The wheel came up red.
Patrick Paul beamed.
(Photo taken at a grand Manor House now used as a luxury resort hotel, western Ireland.)
The pressure to succeed will bind you long before your work can set you free.
You must get all As, earn at least two science degrees, publish in top journals, have a gainful job, own a house, own a car, know two or more languages, get married, have perfect children, maintain top physical health, play a sport, eat organic, save $700 a month for retirement, have no debt, have good credit, own a cool dog, maintain an even temperament, vacation in the mountains, and be beautiful all before you are 30.
Or, you can be good to yourself and take it one step at a time.
She is wearing a graduation cap, and her hands are tied with honor cords. We were on top of a little mountain as a storm moved in.
This picture is dedicated to all my fellow graduate students.
You're headed for heaven,
The sweet old hereafter,
And I've got one foot in the door.
But before I can fly up,
I've loose ends to tie up,
Right here in
The old therebefore.
I'll be along
When I've finished my song,
When I've shut down the band,
When I've played out my hand,
When I've paid all my debts,
When I have no regrets,
Right here in
The old therebefore,
When nothing
Is left anymore.
Next week Chinese New Year will begin, and it will be the Year of the Snake, so I thought it's time to make a snake scene. And what snake scene could be better than a tribute to Lucy Gray Baird from "The Hunger Games: The Ballad of Songbirds & Snakes"? :)
In the movie this is a very powerful scene, in which Lucy, a tribute from District 12 for the 10th Hunger Games, who is not a hunter like Katniss, but a singer, is singing "The Old Therebefore" to calm down the genetically modified snakes, which already killed four other tributes (two in the book) and swarmed towards her. Did a song really prevent them from attacking? Well, I can't tell, because it's a very big spoiler, but it's much more complicated than just that! ;)
Lucy is a very interesting character, and I really like the film (I have a book, but didn't read it yet) so I was considering to make her a tribute with a different scene (not with Snow!), but this one is better. Fun fact: she wrote "The Hanging Tree", the song which became the rebel's anthem after Katniss sang it for a propaganda spot (and I did a tribute for the song here). So, Lucy and her mockingjays could never harm you again, eh, Snow? xD
Since there are no yellow dresses with flowers pattern in Lego, I have to digitally change the colors on Anna's dress from "Frozen", cause it's the only pattern that very remotely reminds me of the pattern on Lucy's corset. Some windows on the Arena have glass, some don't (there's a reason for this, but it's also a spoiler), just like in the film, though in the picture they all ended up looking the same.
You can watch the full scene here:
The Hunger Games: The Ballad of Songbirds & Snakes (2023) - Lucy Sings to the Snakes
yoshaaaa!!!Tachibana Shito,Michiru Kita,and Akastuki Chika~!!
i LOVE LOVE LOVE chika-kun!!!<3and yuuta ish so adorable!!awwww!!
Shologhar, Bangladesh, 2012
We owe her, in all the way of life.
From the very beginning to even after the end of our journey, it's impossible to pay her debt.
Which is just because she is a Mother.
Debt trap. Sounds almost like a death trap. It’s a bottomless hole, which you can fall into for the rest of your life
Bohol Beach Club
Panglao, Bohol
after i paid my 42 hours of sleep debt with barely 7 hours of sleep, atleast i was able to wake up at 6 am to catch up with sunrise.
"Sometimes you need to close your soul for restoration and let the miracles happen inside of you."
Restore my self confidence.
Restore my trust.
Restore my hope.
Restore my energy.
Restore my motivation.
Restore my creativity.
Restore my sense of fun.
Because I am not having fun and I have not been much fun. And I’m thinking that I must have really screwed up somewhere along the way to be paying the karmic debt that I am now paying.
I asked my friend the other day, as I tearfully apologized for being a drag, “You would tell me if I was horrible. wouldn’t you?” “Of course I would.... .... but I wouldn’t say it like THAT! I wouldn’t say YOU’RE HORRIBLE.... I’d just say.....ummmm.... I think there are a few things we need to work on. But...You're not.... you'll be OK. I promise.” I laughed, and she wrapped me in her longest, best “Don’t let go hug” as a bewildered customer stood there, waiting to be helped, probably wondering which one of us is dying.
I think I have a few things to work on anyway.
Under restoration..... heart and sole.... I mean, soul. (Too many years in the shoe department)
Anemone Canadensis (Canada anemone), Indian Lake, Upper Peninsula, Michigan - June 26 2025
-notes-
copper and pine.
Lightbox view is highly recommended (press L or use the magnifier).
The sun was just coming up.
© Marc Duiker | www.underexposed.nl | Twitter | Facebook | 500px
Psalm 27:5
5 For he will phide me in his shelter
in the day of trouble;
he will conceal me under the cover of his tent;
he will qlift me high upon a rock.
The Holy Bible: English Standard Version (Wheaton: Standard Bible Society, 2001), Ps 27:5.
Breakdancing
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I have 5 beautiful daughters, god.. I want to see them, I want to be there when they grow up but I can't let them see me, not like this.
I have a license to drive the fork lifts, I'm good at that. Problem is I have about $10,000 in tickets for panhandling. The cops took my license, and can't get that back until I pay off those fines.
"A Fight Over Argentina’s Debt Produces No Winners" by STEVEN DAVIDOFF SOLOMON via NYT t.co/aOUI7GclNI (via Twitter twitter.com/felipemassone/status/699756272938323968)