lambshanks

Ta-ta ta-ta-ta
ta-ta ta-ta-ta
ta-ta ta-ta-ta ta

loudly my phone sounds off at 3:10 a.m. to tone "minuet" as son Joe texts that "Yes, lamb. It was very good" and "Plane is boarding" as he leaves Dublin after ten days in Ireland on assignment for his company.


He'd had traditional Irish stew for supper and texted me a picture. Today is seafood day at 7H, maybe steamed shrimp, IDK; tomorrow though, lambshanks cooked in a lovely stew, thick and with carrots. Carla introduced us to lambshanks for Easter dinner on Sunday several years ago, and we've yet to get enough, now enjoy them several times a year with happy memories.

Earlier, in response to my question, he'd texted answering that he had not had oysters in Ireland. Joe's plane is in the air as I type, enroute to Charlotte.

A first pic he texted, immediately upon arriving at his hotel, he was enjoying a glass of Guinness on tap 


creamy head, he said, and maybe subtly different. 

Here over StAndrewsBay a mixed morning is gathering. 


Loud thunderbooms, not sharp claps, and it seems to have rolled on off to the east of us. 

Friday, then.

T