The tower is pumping up for St. Valentine’s Day. Thanks to Ben for the pinkifying!

Maybe St. Brigid blessed us with an extra portion of snow this year!

“In You We Trust”. The People of Cushendall. The ancestors. John Hirst. Zippy Kearney and Family. Hugh and Winnie McAteer. The Glens Hotel. Blaine’s Art Supplies. Charlotte McFadden at Cushendall Library. Anne McCambridge at Cushendall Library. George and Debra at Side Street Espresso. Liz Weir. Brian. Ben. Anda. Aravel Garduno. Nina Stehr. Elizabeth Romig. Leon Webber. Raymond Watson. Terry and Renee Keenan. Kiran Dempsey. Kay at Celtic Crafts. Dominic Kearney. Musicians of Cushendall sessions at Johnny Joe’s. Mara Freeman. Keith McDowell (my uncle, recently deceased). Ann McDowell Neier (my aunt). Christine Augusta McDowell (my sister). Martin McCarron. Modern Dwellers. Karen Ely McHenry (my aunt). John O’Connor. Grace Merritt. Frances Logan Saylor (Brian’s mother). Lois Ann Ely McDowell (my mother). Teeka Ballas at F Magazine. The hot dog vendor. Vincent at Glens Computers. Eddie Lenihan. Laura Simms. Ann McDowell La Plant (my cousin). Tricia Brennecke (my cousin). Una. Julie Graham. P.J. Hill. Alex Fife. Marian at The Pepper Mill. Charlie. Henri Cartier-Bresson. John Bennett. Marcus Patton. Joseph and Vivi Ferris. Sam Ruscica. Natalie Goldberg. My spiritual teachers. And many others… on both sides…

The book is finished! It took a while to: draw the front cover, find a way to make the pictures stick to the pages properly, and do the handwritten portions. I will send this copy with John Hirst back to the tower. I will finish the second copy, which I will keep.

The Fairy Tree on Tiveragh, the fairy hill, is the perfect cover drawing. It represents both the culmination of my project and the kickoff for the next project. I was lead directly to the mystical world as I pursued this project. The next series will dive right into that world. I don’t know where it will take me, and that makes it exciting!

Wednesday was St. Brigit’s Day. After weeks of extreme cold, St. Brigit’s Day brought warm winds– thirty degrees felt balmy! I built a special fire in St. Brigit’s honor, adding a piece of the turf that Terry had given to us. As the smoke entered the night sky, I imagined that the smoke made its way to Cushendall.

SAINT OF THE FLAME
…she shall arise like a shining sun… — Lives of Saints, The Book of Lismore