Silkie McDonough

By the way William, superb work ...as usual!

Silk is too warm most of the time. Go or something breathable! Try a nice wool!

He's a starving artist! He would be happy with a few hundred! :)

As sweet as the song is, it could not match her curiosity as to who harmonized so compatibly with her. She opened her eyes and began a slow search using her ears to guide her.

The sound was instinctive, the harmonies created with a soprano, so rich in tone, she was compelled to stopped all other activity save the song. Her good hand rested on the rail to keep balance, eyes closed lightly, she let the sound enfold her. The intonation of the other voice danced lightly around her deeper timber. As the song end drew near she became aware that hers and the ethereal soprano were the only sounds save that of the sea and the ship herself. Murin was loath to end the song so she continued the song, not in words but in sounds, mouth music, hoping upon hope that the song of the siren would follow.

Good for you! 40 wasn't so good for me. September 11, 2001. Some people THINK their 40th birthday is a disaster. Mine was! Not many wanted to celebrate ANYTHING that day. Now I just celebrate for nearly a month and a half. this year 45 days of gifts for me!

The rhythm of the ships work was infectious. A strong alto voice rose in cadence with the din of the hammers and work on deck. Murin, still feeling a bit out of place in her new surroundings, was never one to keep her voice quiet. “Well it's all for me grog, me jolly jolly grog It's all for me beer and tobacco For I spent all me tin with the lassies drinking gin Far across the western ocean I must wander” Before the end of the chorus others had joined her. She carried the verses well, her robust voice, clear above the sounds of the ship and the sea. “Where are me shoes, me noggin', noggin' shoes? They're all gone for beer and tobacco For the heels they are worn out and the toes are kicked about And the soles are looking out for better weather” Her hand may keep her from hard labor but she could carry a tune better than most and taking the lead came easy to her. “Well it's all for me grog, me jolly jolly grog It's all for me beer and tobacco For I spent all me tin with the lassies drinking gin Far across the western ocean I must wander” Where she would otherwise shrink from the attention of others, when singing she felt the need to let the music out, to share her voice, her God given gift was her gift to those around her. “Where is me shirt, my noggin', noggin' shirt? It's all gone for beer and tobacco For the collar is all worn, and the sleeves they are all torn And the tail is looking out for better weather” The voices were blended in a natural harmony. “Well it's all for me grog, me jolly jolly grog It's all for me beer and tobacco For I spent all me tin with the lassies drinking gin Far across the western ocean I must wander” The chorus was loud and strong, nearly every voice on deck in concert. “I'm sick in the head and I haven't been to bed Since first I came ashore with me slumber For I spent all me dough on the lassies movin' slow Far across the Western Ocean I must wander” Murin hadn’t felt so alive in years. To be out on the open water again, on deck the wind tugging at her locks, singing a song, filling her lungs with sea air! “Well it's all for me grog, me jolly jolly grog It's all for me beer and tobacco For I spent all me tin with the lassies drinking gin Far across the western ocean I must wander” “ONCE MORE” She called out and the crew joinded in concert. “Well it's all for me grog, me jolly jolly grog It's all for me beer and tobacco For I spent all me tin with the lassies drinking gin Far across the western ocean I must wander” The crew on deck finished with bravado and laughter, then shouts for another song. Another of the crew obliged and a new song began. Several of the crew members whom Murin had not yet met took the time to introduce themselves before continuing with their work and the newly started shanty. In short order Murin was joining in with her own harmonies, walking the deck, keeping herself busy lending a hand where she could. The simple shanty had broken through the barrier she had felt just minutes ago. Many of those working on deck would pause for a moment as she passed by and blend their voices with hers (some pleasant some ...not so) but all with a friendly ease she had not previously known. Nathan beamed at her and when she drew near he put his arm around her shoulder and squeezed lightly in affectionate approval.

...errrr, ....um, how does a sword hang from a "sword hanger"?

Pete ...the look is great ...I have one "little" theatrical/makeup complaint. Your teeth are TOO perfect and clean! :) :)

How did I miss this post! Now I know why we chatted so easily when we "talked"! Finally, a score higher than mine!

Tis grand! I am nil too late t'b wishin ya a grand day lad! go maire tú an lá! I can say it no better than William has and since I know you at most, half as well as he, I will not attempt to match his words ...even if I felt I could. Stated simply, it has been a pleasure to have made your aquaintance over the past few months.

I work Sunday nights so I will not be there on a Sunday night. :)

I stand corrected (in fact I thought I posted an apology previously but, alas it is alacking! ) Anyway. I did not take note of where the post was. Clearly it wasn't clear ...to me. Anyway, I thought it was under introductions. All that having been said I guess I am suppose to get around to this apology I've been talkinga about... ::SIGH:: Im'm sorrrrr ....sorrr-rrrrr-rr ...I'm, sorr-rrrrrr-rrrr-rrr-rr, ::clears throat:: ....Imsorrymarc. there, I said it!

wow. that is amazing. What a beautiful building!

Mister Franklin would not let the lass clean the blade with only one good hand so he did the work as he instructed her. When Fitch arrived in the Armory she was watching Mister Franklin enjoying the work as finished cleaning the cutlassand he continued his instruction. Fitch stood at the door, excused himself and delivered his message to Murin leaving immediately afterwards. Murin listened as Mister Franklin finished a last few instructions before dismissing her. “Tank ya sir. I hope t'have m'hand back soon.” She began a curtsey but stopped herself and knuckled her brow, sending the curls bouncing once again. He smiled and returned the gesture signaling her final dismissal. Working her way through the decks she nodded to many, some returned a smiles but she was still receiving wary glances from a few of the crew. Once on deck she stood a moment allowing her eyes to adjust in the late morning sunlight. When she turned to site Mister Lasseter on the Quarterdeck, and found Nathan smiling down at her. She returned his smile as she ascending the stairs to report as ordered.

Murin stood silently as Mister Franklin and Siren exchanged words, stepping back, head held low avoiding eye contact with all. She was shocked to hear Siren speak so to Mister Franklin, an officer. When they stood toe to toe Murin feared the worse. Mister Franklin was a man and clearly had the advantage of upper body strength and stood a full head taller than Siren but Murin could sense that the lass would be quite lethal if the need arose. She was grateful when Captain Brand arrived to defuse the situation. Siren excused herself and Murin waited patiently for the captain to finish with mister Franklin. After their discussion at the rail Mister Franklin returned and introduced himself. Murin, not use to her new position as a seaman began to curtsy but recalled Sirens salute and knuckled her own forehead, the locks that hung in her eyes bouncing at her touch. She explained to Mister Franklin that she had no experience with fire arms and little with blades, none with a blade this size. She complied as he extended his hand and asked for the cutlass. He inspected it with a practiced eye in the sunlight making no indication as to the quality or condition of the blade. "I would gladly tend to it myself Sir ifin I had the materials to do so." Murin volunteered. "Aye, indeed you will!" He nodded at her, his impish smile had returned now that his fury had dissipated and she found herself more at ease with him than she had been with any officer thus far, which surprised her each time she noted his clearly British accent. He returned the cutlass to its sheath and handed it back to Murin as he asked to see the pistol. Tucking the cutlass under her left arm she drew the pistol from her belt and handed it to mister Franklin. "Lass." His smile fading a bit as he gently pushed the barrel skyward. "Never point that at anyone unless you intend to shoot it." He then took the pistol and inspected. After some intense scrutiny he began to walk away. "There is a bit of work here." When Murin did not follow he turned, flashed her a smile "Come along lass." He lead her from the bright sunlight of the weather deck to the armoury below deck chatting lightly of where they would start and how she could proceed in her training.

I wasn't sure where to post this and figured since it pertains directly to me my introduction thread would be the most apropriate. I attended the Celtic Classic in Bethlehem Pa this weekend. On Sunday I competed in the Shanos/Traditional singing competetion. I won FIRST prize!!!! 50 bucks, and a chance to sing center stage in the Grand Pavillion! Aditionally I recieved personal recognition from a paid performers that I have respect for. he said as I left the stage, "It is obvious why you won." Yippie for me!

Glad to see you back lass. Hope you continue to feel up to joining us. Here's to your improving health! :)

Arrrrrrrrrrrrgh! I hate math! William, what exactly were you avoiding by doing this study?

"Well I..." She thought of her small list of things to attend to and decided none were so urgent that she couldn't stop for a chat. Besides the responsibilities would start soon enough. "Tank ya kindly lass." Murin laid the cutlass on the deck, adjusted the pistol to her side and gracefully lowered herself to sit beside the striking lass. "Was lookn fer d'master at arms. I need to d'clare my weapons" She let out a bit of a laugh at that. "Der mine simply because I happened to b'da one who survived ...I've only a notion uv how t'use either, needin some instructshun. Wuz tinkin det Mister Pew r'Mister Franklin would be best t'ask." she paused while looking down at the sheathed cutlass "Nea'r owned a pistol afore, tis against d'law at home tanks d'British and dear brute force. M'people are uv a lovin nature but even d'most gentle creatures will defend demselves iffin beat down nough times!" The disgust and hatred flashed across her face then her visage relaxed. "M'serry, some topics r'best left alone." She smiled, a soft embarrassed smile, and fell silent as she turned her head to look at the blue cloudless sky.

Squinting she smiled at the lass seated before her. "errr ...um MEER-een, r'Silkie ifin ya prefer." she offered her right hand in greeting. "From? Tis a long time ago, would b'Erielaund ifin d'bloody English would let us be buot I ken-nut return dere jus yet." She paused, for a moment realizing for the first time she had thoughts of returning some day. "Goin? ...where d'winds take this ere vessel. Cap'n Brand jest signed me on fer..." She paused seeing that Siren stitching was stitching a sail. "...well, fer mendin sails and tailorin' once m'hand is useful again."

you talking to me? Bethelhem? All weekend. Renting a room. Competing in the song competition on Sunday ...wish me luck. For anyone who is interested I will be in the singing competition at the Celtic Classin in Bethlehem PA on Sunday. Problem is I don't know what time. I don't even have a Pub Pin to display so you will know me and my name isn't Murin McDonough ...heck my last name isn't even McDonough. Perhaps I will use it anyway, it is MUCH more Irish than my actual name.

Murin finished her meal alone. She had kept an eye out for Nathan or Billy but saw neither. Left on her own once again she recalled them telling her that they had been required check their weapons with the Master-at-Arms when they first boarded. Since her things were wrapped in the bundle she carried Mister Pew must have been unaware of their existence. Additionally she needed to learn how to care for and use of her newly acquired weaponry. After returning the bowl to the Galley and thanking Mister Gage she returned to the surgery for the pistol and cutlass. She tucked the pistol into her belt, carried the sheathed cutlass under her arm and headed out again to the weather deck in search of the Master at Arms, Mister Pew. She stood in the bright light her good hand shading her eyes scanning the deck for mister Pew. Surveying the crew she realized that she could not recall which of the many faces may be him. All of the lads she had seen in the past few days blended save those she had conversed with. "Scuse mae?" She asked the nearest crew member, "Where might I fin'de Master r'Sargent et Arms?"

Wot? Me! He don't tink I'm a gambler er notin duz'e? Wern't it his choice o'game? How d'el do ya play dis game?

I'm not mouch of a carrd player n'm'purse b'a bit light dis eve. Best nil include mae. I'll simply watch ...tis wot I seem t'b'doin deez days anyway.