Day Two Thousand Five Hundred and Fifteen

I had a nice quiet day.

Everybody got up very early this morning.

Except for my friend Emmet. 

Because he was very tired. He told me last night. 

Because of his very long dragons game yesterday. 

He has to think all the time when it is his own game. 

That makes you very tired. It is known.

Niamh changed her go to work time for today. 

So she can watch the important throw the ball in the air game tonight. With all her friends. 

One friend even slept here. So she could go to work early too.

Zita and I had a nice long walk. 

Because we got up so early. 

But it was not a nice sunshine everywhere walk today. Oh well.

After Zita and Niamh were all the way downtown Craig and I had two toasts. With brand new jam. Ha.

Then I had a very nice long nap. On the comfy living room rug.

I was even fast asleep when Emmet made his toasty bagel lunch. 

So I could not be a bagel sandwich helper. Too bad for me.

Craig woke me all up when he made the toasty peanut butter and honey buns. 

So I could help him eat them. Ha. 

Because we are friends. That is good.

After lunchtime Niamh came home to get her little computer.

Because she had an important meeting at her nice university this afternoon.

Then Emmet went on the smelly bus to Miss Morgan’s and Mister Mike’s apartment.

To play the other dragons game with his friends. It is not his dragons game. It is the other game. 

So only Craig and Zita will be here for our delicious dinner. Oh well.

Now Miss Tara is in way far away Ireland. Again. 

She sent us pictures. From the middle of nowhere.

Because that is where she is. Right there in country Sligo. Craig told me. 

And our cousin Robert is there too. He drove her there. In his car. He brought tasty treats too. 

Because it is Mister Yates Sing Happy Birthday day. But now he is just dead. 

Mister Yates used to live there. Right there in Sligo. 

He wrote lots of his famous stories in a very little house there. 

So maybe Tara and cousin Robert went to say goodbye to him. Maybe.

Or maybe because he even wrote a beautiful poem all about my friend Niamh. 

"The host is riding from Knocknarea

And over the grave of Clooth-na-Bare;

Caoilte tossing his burning hair,

And Niamh calling "Away, come away:

Empty your heart of its mortal dream.

The winds awaken, the leaves whirl round,

Our cheeks are pale, our hair is unbound,

Our breasts are heaving, our eyes are agleam,

Our arms are waving, our lips are apart;

And if any gaze on our rushing band,

We come between him and the deed of his hand,

We come between him and the hope of his heart."

The host is rushing 'twixt night and day,

And where is there hope or deed as fair?

Caoilte tossing his burning hair,

And Niamh calling "Away, come away".

That was when she was a long long long time ago far away magic princess. 

And when she had a beautiful horse. Ha. 

That is a good poem. It is known. 

Craig read it to me. Out loud. Ha. Good for us.

Then we played catch the ball. And had treats too. 

When Zita came home we did not have for our before dinnertime walk. 

Because of the more rain again afternoon.

We watched the new detective program last night. Until we were too tired.

And went to bed. Altogether to fast asleep.