Silkie McDonough

I was not implying that the person who has chosen the name of Sir Henry Morgan on this site has not been to the point in question. I in fact applaud him in that he has been to visit and has a good knowledge of the place. I was simply stating that the person who said "and always welcome, of course..." is not THE Sir Henry Morgan of history and does not now and never has owned the lands that he invites us to. That the Piracy Pub's Sir Henry Morgan lives in 2006 when we have electricity, computers and photographs. It seems that he has trouble making that distinction in his posts.

Have ya known m'ta behave any otter way? She moves towards Matt, offering the flask in her right hand. Her left rests on his right sholder. His left hand wraps around her waist in an attempt to bring the flask closer. He drinks deeply ....from the flask and before he knows it he is holding the lass closley and swaying to the music. Don't tell him ...he's dancing! :)

Reality check. Ummmm..... Hurricain, it is a role that you are playing. Don't get confused.

Silkie produces the familure silver flask. I've nil a dram o'rhum bot I'll share m'pocheen wit ya lad! She continues to dance in front of Matt holding the flask just out of his reach in an attempt to get him to stand and dance.

Silkie dances with the music as she makes her way to Matt. Wot would it take t'persuade you t'dance wit m'luv? Her smile beams down upon the dashing pirate, she sways alone in fromt of Matt, holding her skirt up just enough to keep the hem from dusting the floor.

Murin finished her meal and her musings and began to look around the ward. She rose to her feet taking the mug of coffee with her and headed to a closed port hole. Once there she unlatched it and pushed outward. Sheets of droplets falling fast in the morning sunlight, where was all of this when she was parched and blistered a week ago on that speck of sand and cacti! Again, she smiled at the sun and the rain. The splash of a boat to the water was heard. They were indeed launching to explore some Island but not her island. They sat beside a larger island now. She smiled again. The cares of daily life reduced, for a time, to more than foraging for her next meal. Murin let the window close and latched it again. Although she knew there were others in the ward the soft but gruff sound of the lad's voice startled her., "Still raining." She jumped and then chuckled as she turned "Aye, tis good dis rain, refreshin." She said with a soft smile on her still chapped lips. "Yer d'lad thet was here when we were brought aboard aren't ya?" "Aye" Her eyes found the ground and her nearly empty mug. An awkward silence fell over the room. Ana's breathing remained deep and steady. The other lad that Mr. Lasseter brought in rested uneasily. Murin sipped the mug again. The lad stood and stepped toward Murin holding his hand out to the lass. "Nathan Bly" She advanced to meet the mans hand shake holding her hand out also' "Meer-een Mickdawnna" Murin McDonough She had seen many a seaman in her life, this one, though young, was a seasoned sailor. The two exchanged hushed greetings and in short turn were sitting in the ward exchanging tales of their survival before their arrival on the Watch Dog.

I'm hoping to stop by on Sunday. I have an extra pass/ticket if anyone would like to join me.

Murin was aware of movement in the ward before she was awake but she was so enjoying the comfort of the cot she continued to lie there in a twilight rest. She let the sounds of human life wrap around her. Nearby Lady Ana's steady deep breathing could be heard, still deep asleep. Someone moved quietly around the ward, the surgeon and her mate she guessed, perhaps a few others. She would have to rouse herself soon. Her thoughts started to wander when the surgeon’s mate roused her. His thick French accent like music gently brought her to the daylight. Murin blinked, rubbed her eyes with her right hand then stretched every muscle in her well rested body. “Mornin” she smiled at the man who had cared for the night before. She felt safe in the care of the stoic man who had shown her so much kindness since her arrival. She lowered her legs over the side of the cot and sat up. Chanault had just offered some of the morning fare from the galley when Mr. Lasseter entered the ward with a seaman that appeared disheveled, pale and weak, perspiration beading on his forehead. The surgeon tended to the seaman while Chanault directed Murin to her morning meal. Murin was lifting the mug of hot brown liquid to her mouth when Mr. Lasseter spoke of being a man short and queried the surgeons mate for assistance with the hazards of the Island. Murin looked on enjoying the bite of the hot liquid, wondering if it was the small islet that she was just plucked from that they spoke of. She could tell them, there was not much there!. As the surgeon excused herself, her mate and the quartermaster Murin began to focus on her meal, and her future. She ate absentmindedly as she pondered. What would she do now that she had choices? What choices did she have? Where and when would they be in port and would it be some place that she could safely stay? Perhaps they could use an extra set of hands on board the… her mind stopped short as she tried to recall the name of the ship she was on. She had heard it just yesterday but was drawing a blank. She ran through the conversation on the shore in the rain with the quartermaster …the Watch Dog …the bloody Watch Dog, so easy to remember. She chuckled to herself as the surgeon and the Quartermaster passed through the ward again. Busy ship, surly she would be able to help in some way until they made port someplace.

there now ...perhaps not for long.

I almost didn't vote. For starters I'm not a guy. Additionally, I'm still working on the simple garb ...the frock coat is some place down the line. I do however have the forest green velvet for the thing ...I may have enough to make a skirt (or at least breeches) to match Should I do gold or silver trim? Callinish, Navy Blue, Blue or a Bluish Grey for you! Bring out those bright blue eyes! OH! I voted Green ...if you hadn't guessed.

Silkie starts another tune, a ballad of sailors and love lost. (Do the Irish write any other story lines for their ballads?) Her alto voice fills the empty room wrapping all in a soothing blanket of sound.

Places or people I can relate to this theory and perhaps even events but the mundane events and the exact visuals (I am a VERY visual individual), colors etc.? There I have problems making the connection with that theory. I will recognize a conversation or a situation and as soon as I 'remember', it changes ...except for one time when in the 'dream' or 'memory' I thought "this is where it is going to change" and it didn't when it played out in my life. Surprised the heck out of me! :)

Exceedingly Simple People? ESP ...leads me to a question about time ...do you think it is a straight line or does it loop back on itself? Explain the "memories" of an event as it happens. How does this occur? Why is it that sometimes it changes when we recall it and sometimes it doesn't? Any theories?

Kass, what of those born in the north? Skin like leather but in the the intensity of the tropical sun I would think that they may suffer from initial sunburn again until acclimated. ...?

Silkie works her way slowly and deftly from Will's shoulders and neck up into his hairline to his scalp and finishes at his temples. As soon as she finished she presents him a shot of warm spiced rum. Thet auta relax ya a bit. She smiles at Will, takes a seat near Lady Snow and downs the cool rootbeer that has been waiting.

Blackbeard Festival, Hampton VA, 6/2,3 &4 Met MANY Blackdog Crimson Corsier Captain Thighbiter (The Brigands) Billy Flint Capt'n Pern and ...since I can't recall his pub name ...if he has one ...No-woe A plethora of others that I either did not catch their name or they never threw it!

Silkie, still kneeding Williams shuoulders and neck, giggles as she sees the altered etching of Mr. Lassiter. Well done lad! I needs me PhotoShop ...soon, very soon. :) Lady Snow, tis wonderful news of your lads! I'd raise a glass but any job worth doing is worth doing well and I have not finished here. M'hands are full!

Silkie, noting Will rubbing the back of his neck walks behind her friend and begins to massage away the mild stiffness in his neck and shoulders while she softly harmonizes with the cook.

Anyone out there interested in 6/10-11 or 6/17-18 ...I have obligations on 6/24-25

I think there will be little objection to that but will the entire crew be there or do we just photoshop them in after the fact? Hmmm ....an oooooold etching of the crew ....I like it ...easy enough to do ...hmmmm, thanks Mr. Pew. That is assuming that I am actually a crew member by November!

Aye, a bit luv. But I tink m''in need uv a dance. Any takers?!

Been back to work for a few weeks now, it is like I was never gone ...I still don't know why they want me to work for the paycheck! Missing being here for hours on end day after day. ::Heavy Sigh:: Oh well. Hmmm, oh well.

Tell me about it! I had may picture taken so many times this weekend I was beginning to think I was a celebrity ...have yet to see what I actually looked like ...only view I got was the reflection is the sides of cars and building windows! OH! Excuse me ...is my vanity showing?

I was falling asleep while taking the 'test'. I'll sleep and try again just to see if sleep deprivation may skew the results! Extroverted (E) 63.41% Introverted (I) 36.59% Intuitive (N) 58.97% Sensing (S) 41.03% Feeling (F) 56.25% Thinking (T) 43.75% Perceiving (P) 71.43% Judging (J) 28.57% Your type is: ENFP Accuracy: ENFP - "Journalist". Uncanny sense of the motivations of others. Life is an exciting drama. 8.1% of total population.

Was a grand time! I traveled there with Callinish. My first experience as a pirate! Callinish has a pair of lovely pistols that I may need to save me duckets fto buy. I can't guarentee that he will allways be willing to loan me a few each time I'm pirating. I did help him out by display his wares and doing my best to model them proudly for him but ...alas, the gen'ts wern't lookin at my flintlocks ...most of the time!