Wednesday, June 16, 2010

Bloom's Day in Seanhenge

... today means weeding weeding weeding

 instead of reading
or even making words words words
which, by the way, easily can become a sword.

Tonight I might open page 506 of Richard Ellman's Joyce biography, though.
Why page 506 (pp)?
The answer you could find by visiting Stan's dwelling, while its owner - so to speak - is celebrating Molly's Day. 


  1. Sláinte, dear Joyce!

    And happy weeding, Sean. Good exercise for the muscles. Remember the promise of a photo-a-la-Popeye? (Feb.16-2010:Same route-different views.)

  2. Happy Bloom's day Sean (if a bit belated!) But fear not every spring and summer day is Bloom day in Seanhenge!

  3. Happy Bloomsday, Sean! I hope you managed a little reading amidst the weeding, or at least some birdwatching, sky-gazing, and other non-arduous pursuits.

    (And thank you for the link!)

  4. Claudia,
    thank you. Hardly can type this as my muscles are aching after the bleedin' weeding.
    Oh, that you'd always remind me of what I announced in a second of wee weakness ...

    raising my mug: Sláinte.
    And right you are. This might be one reason that I don't make a big fuzz about Bloom's Day.

    thank you. Indeed, while taking a rest, sitting with a fag and a mug* of tea in the shadow of the hazel I enjoyed watching about a dozen blackbirds which visited the freshly opened Hotel 'Digged Field' to spend their worm time.
    Hope you had a lovely Nora's Day in Galway, my friend.

    * Did Pound also tell Joyce that fag and mug would rhyme perfectly in certain parts of New York? :)

  5. Worm time in the earthy-but-luxurious Hotel Digged Field must be a highlight of any right-living blackbird's afternoon!

    Thank you Sean, I had a lovely Nora's Day.