Welcome to Cranky Puppy Farm!

This blog belongs to two Gen X-er's smackdab in downtown Kansas City where we've been renovating and decorating two old Victorians built in the 1890's. Our life is filled with 3 demanding Pomeranians (1 of them cranky, of course), honking cars, noisy neighbors and the hustle and bustle of city life but we dream of the day when we can move to our 40-acre farm and hear nothing but the wind and the cows next door. Until then, we're chronicling our triumphs and mishaps here as we try to garden and preserve on 2 city lots, raise chickens, and learn all those things we should have learned from our grandparents. Welcome to our world - we hope you'll stay awhile!

St. Paddy's Ba-Dump-Bump

Sunday, March 17, 2013

The remains of one of my ancestor's castles in Dromaneen, Cork.  Photo courtesy of Mike Searle.

Ah, the emerald isle calls to me with a siren's voice!  My family name on both my mother and father's sides are unmistakably Irish, my great grandfather was an Irishman, and my sister has traced our family's lineage all the way back to an ancient king.  Every year I say I'm going "across the pond" to visit and we never make it.  *sigh* Someday....

We celebrated the American Irish Lovefest (better known as St. Patrick's Day) last night by rocking out with Irish folk rock legends, The Elders, at the Uptown Theater.  Aaaaagh...Irish fiddle!  You can listen to them here.  And if you like what you hear and are anywhere near KC, they'll be blowing the roof off the Irish Center's Gala on April 18th.  You can bet I'll be there.

Anyway, I thought I would leave you with an Irish funny to get your St. Paddy's Day started off right.  Hope you enjoy!

A few years ago we toured Europe. Shortly after arriving in Italy, we noticed that outside every cathedral was a small golden pillar, holding a golden phone. The plaque invariably read: "Direct line to heaven. $1,000." Not having the extra cash, we didn't call.

After seeing much of the continent, we visited the UK. Our first cathedral there was an Irish one, and more of a chapel, really. Outside ...
was the now-familiar golden phone. But the plaque read: "Direct line to heaven. $0.25."

We grabbed the priest and asked, "Father, how can this be? All over Europe, these Direct lines to heaven cost $1,000. Why is this one only twenty-five cents?"

He smiled gently and replied, "Aye, but you're in Ireland now. It's a local call."


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