Thursday, Feb. 10, 2005
Dear Diary:

The daughter phoned last night from Montreal to commiserate about the wave of illness and kittycide that has swept through here in the last few weeks. She has two fuzzbutts of her own and so she understands the sadness.

The best part of the call was that she pulled me out of that sadness. I got to bask in her happiness. The daughter is going on a big adventure. The daughter is going to Ireland.

She arrives in Dublin on April 7 and flies back to Montreal from Cork on April 18. She'll be doing this on a budget, staying in hostels and such like, and she's doing it on her own.

As her mother I'm feigning nonchalance about this whole going to a foreign country all by herself business. After all, she is 26, a very capable adult and has travelled before. She backpacked through France and other bits of Europe with friends when she was younger. It would be very, very wrong of me to squash her independence, and it would be very, very wrong to wonder if she's too old to put in a child harness and keep within three meters of me at all times.

So yes, I am the epitome of supportiveness but deep, deep inside I am convinced that her plane will be hijacked by terrorists, if she avoids the terrorists then white slavers will abduct her at Heathrow, and if she avoids that then once she gets to Ireland she will be eaten by the Loch Ness Monster.

Oh, wait, the Loch Ness Monster is in Scotland. Whew. There's one worry I can scratch off my list.

Um, do they make child harnesses in adult sizes?

I'm sure that some of my three loyal readers can throw her some suggestions. Ways she can save loot getting from place to place within Ireland, things she doesn't want to miss seeing, better quality hostels (and a warning about hostels she might want to avoid), places where she can eat decently without having to spend a week's wages.

If you have a moment, could you e-mail her some tips at phoneyboy1978 [at] yahoo [dot] ca? You have no idea how grateful I would be if you showed her this random, senseless act of kindness. Oh, and don't forget the horror stories, the warnings about things that went terribly, terribly wrong. Help her to avoid pitfalls if you can.

And if you want to leave comments about happy experiences, too, to share with me and my three loyal readers that's fine.

BUT NO HORROR STORIES.

Because, you know, I have a wonderfully vivid imagination and am perfectly capable of creating my own worries, thankyewverymuch.

--Marn

P.S.�Thank you all for the outpouring of sympathy. In the past when I've lost a cat to illness, it's been because of old age. Losing two young cats to illness so quickly has really shaken me. I'm grateful that you helped me see it in a more positive way.

Mileage on the Marnometer: 159.97 miles. 10 per cent rubber duck Duckage. My joy knows no bounds.

Goal for 2005: 1,250 miles - 2000 kilometers


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This template is a riff on a design by the truly talented Quinn. Because I'm a html 'tard, I got alot of pity coding to modify it from Ms. Kittay, a woman who can make html roll over, beg, and bring her her slippers. The logo goodness comes from the God of Graphics, the Fuhrer of Fonts, the one, the only El Presidente. I smooch you all. The background image is part of a painting called Higher Calling by Carter Goodrich which graced the cover of the Aug. 3, 1998 issue of The New Yorker Magazine.

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