Waterford Crystal Closes

Today at 2:45pm the managers in Waterford Crystal called the staff into a meeting. It appears the agenda was pretty short, the factory was closing, anyone who had cars in the parking lot had until 3pm to get them out. Of course as you can imagine the 800 staff did not take this lying down and 100 are currently occupying the visitor center and campaigning for, well I suppose no one is quite sure what they are campaigning for seeing how the factory is closing down so their negotiating position is some what like a car negotiating with a moose on the Trans-Canada highway at 3am. No one is walking away from this incident with a happy story to tell.

Anyway you might wonder why I'm mentioning a piece of Irish industrial relations news on the Noseworthy blog. Waterford Crystal is one of those iconic Irish brands, a name famous around the world, or at least in the world of the Irish diaspora. In Ireland it seems anyone who got married since the 1950's was guaranteed to have two things in their new house, a sacred heart picture and a collection of Waterford Crystal. That collection would either be on display in glass cabinet safely out of reach of the kids or wrapped up and stored in the attic until it could be passed on to those kids as a new form of family heirloom.

With that history in mind when Lauren invited her Irish boyfriend (me, in case you are confused) over to Canada to accompany her to her baby sisters wedding there was only one question in my mind, "A Waterford Crystal bowl or a picture frame?". Seeing how Lauren and myself both love photography the picture frame won out. Lauren could worry about finding a suit I would be willing to wear, I would worry about getting the Waterford Crystal.

When Laurens best friend Carla got married another piece of Waterford Crystal was of course straight onto the shopping list. When I recently found out that Waterford Crystal did a range of Christmas decorations I thought they would make a nice gift for the Noseworthy household. A seasonal link to Ireland, the country that had laid claim to one of their daughters.

The idea that Waterford Crystal may soon cease to exist and certainly will cease production in Ireland is sad. Something distinctly and recognisably Irish will be lost. Perhaps we will have to pick up a couple of pieces to add to the Noseworthy collection before the shelves empty and the shops restock with crystal from other brands, counties and countries.

Reed, Rite, Pick And Drew..and Toot

I would just like to remind everyone, I may not be able to write as well as you lot, but i have many other talents.....

Well, as I fall mainly into the first two categories here, I thought it was time submit some of my writing.

As most people who know me well know, I am a big fan of Frank Zappa. Zappa is definitely not for everyone's tastes. He is known for dirty, sexist, and downright bizarre lyrics. What many people may not know is that he is a fantastic musician, a talented composer and songwriter, and before his death a passionate advocate of freedom of speech in song lyrics (he was a central figure in the 80's Senate hearings, along with Tipper Gore).

Some of Zappa's song titles are amazing. As I sat thinking one day for ideas on what to write, I began to picture a story about s dinner party, using some of Zappa's most unusual song titles (of people and people-like names) as guests. To me, the story also has a child-like feel.

So, I hope you enjoy "Mr Zappa's Dinner Party".

Mr. Zappa sat at the table. His grey moustache twitched as he scribbled on a scrap of paper. In fact he was surrounded by scraps of paper. Yellowed bits of paper. The back of a matchbook from the Fillmore East. A napkin from Denny’s. I was sure I saw the original lyric sheet for “Excentrifugal Forz” there, with scribbles all over it.
What’s the matter Mr. Zappa? I asked. He was rocking back and forth in the high-backed black chair. Every now and then he would put the nub of a pencil he was writing with in his mouth. It would almost disappear whenever his moustache twitched.

Oh nothing, he said. Nothing at all. He wrote furiously for a moment. Well, everything is wrong. Everything. The little yellow pencil disappeared.

Can I do anything to help you? I asked.

Mr. Zappa’s moustache twitched. He rocked back and forth. The pencil appeared again. Yes, yes you can. No. No. There’s nothing you can do.

I looked at Mr. Zappa with concern. He got like this once a year. Whenever he threw a dinner party he got like this.

Big Leg Emma. She’s coming. So is Bobby Brown. Bobby Brown. I still haven’t heard from Billy the Mountain. Gregory Peccary. Is Gregory coming? Mr. Zappa shuffled through his endless pile of papers trying to find Gregory Peccary’s RSVP. I was amazed he was ever able to find anything.

What about Andy? And Disco Boy? I asked. He didn’t look up from his search, but I could see his moustache twitch slightly as he pushed aside a stack of fan mail.

They’re both coming, he said. They are in Orange County with The Grand Wazoo. But they said they would be here.

I could hear the scratching of the record as “I’m Not Satisfied” played softly in the background. This always happened to Mr. Zappa. The most appropriate songs at the most appropriate times. It was uncanny.

He was mere inches from knocking over a huge stack of papers from his testimony from the Senate hearings on rock music. Mr. Zappa was had played a very important role in those hearings.

Mr. Zappa, did you get any Black Napkins? I asked. I didn’t want to do anything to upset him. But I needed to know.

No. No. No. Yes. Yes I did. Mr. Zappa was scribbling furiously on the paper in front of him. They are in the closet with the Watermelon In Easter Hay. No. No. That’s not right. He turned the pencil over and erased what he had just written, more vigorously than he had written it.

The phone rang. I jumped. Mr. Zappa kept on writing and scribbling. The pencil was getting shorter and shorter as he wrote.

Mr. Zappa, its Mr. Beefheart. He wants to know if you spoke to the Muffin Man. And Willie The Pimp.

Oh dear. Oh dear. Yes I did. Mr. Zappa had dropped the pencil and was wringing his hands. The Muffin Man is coming. He was most happy about being invited. Tell Don that The Muffin Man is coming.

Mr. Zappa sat perfectly still. The little yellow pencil was poised over the paper. Mr. Zappa’s moustache twitched. And twitched again. “I’m Not Satisfied” had ended. The room was filled with the scratching of the needle off of the inner edge of the record.

Mr. Zappa? I asked. His breath was even. His eyes were wider than usual. Mr. Zappa? I asked again.

Tell Don that Willie The Pimp is coming.

Mr. Zappa’s moustache started to twitch. He rocked back and forth in the high backed chair. Both the rocking and the twitching seemed to last forever. Finally Mr. Zappa started writing furiously.

I relayed the message to Mr. Beefheart and hung up the phone.

Mr. Zappa was nervous for the rest of the week. Uncle Meat and I tried our best to stay out of Mr. Zappa’s way. He spent hours in the Utility Muffin Research Kitchen preparing appetizers and side dishes. He knew that even though he told his guests not to bring anything, they would anyways.

Especially The Muffin Man.

Saturday arrived. Mr. Zappa was twitching and rocking in his high-backed chair for most of the morning. Uncle Meat almost called off the dinner party. But I told him Mr. Zappa got like this every year when it came time to throw the dinner party.

As it turns out, Mr. Zappa’s fears were unfounded. Everyone had a lovely time at the dinner party. Big Leg Emma brought a delicious garden salad. Bobby Brown’s candied yams were a huge hit. Billy The Mountain and Gregory Peccary both came. They each brought dinner rolls. Andy was there. He came with some White Port and Lemon Juice. Disco Boy. The Grand Wazoo. All of Mr. Zappa’s friends.

And they all had a lovely time.

Mr. Zappa sat in his high backed chair. Usually after the dinner party Mr. Zappa had a final glass of White Port and Lemon Juice and went immediately to bed. Tonight he was writing furiously on a scrap of paper. The little yellow pencil would disappear as his moustache twitched.

What are you doing Mr. Zappa? I asked.

Preparing the guest list for next year. He replied.

Age and Money are Impostors

Was I ever as young as I was in that picture? Being now "old and wizened" makes me wonder.

That being said, age is a number, and has no real meaning. I still feel like a kid most of the time.

Am experiencing a bit of a letdown being "home" again (Beijing will never truly be home), but really enjoyed the trip. After all, money is just a number too. Li Li will be back tonight as well.

Fantastic idea, this blog.

Facebook To The Rescue!

Well, I've officially taken our blog outside of the family and made it public. I created a Facebook group to invite people to come have a look at our witty repartee. Part of me is excited at the prospect of entertaining people, the rest of me is thinking, "Oh crap! What have I done??"

I have wanted to be a writer for quite a long time. I'd say how long, but I hate writing down how old I am. Denial is a wonderful thing. But I have always enjoyed writing, and thought it would be the ultimate dream to make a living putting words on paper. There's a small catch, though. I hate when people read things that I've written. Yes, please do take a second to mull over how crazy I really am. I find writing cathartic and therapeutic, and I think I'm witty and smart, but when someone is reading something I've written, my stomach is immediately filled with vomiting butterflies. I tend to immediately think, "That person is going to think I'm an idiot!" I wish I had a well-thought-out reason as to why this is, but all I could come up with is that I'm nuts. I suppose it has to do with opening myself up and allowing people in, but isn't 'she's nuts' the more fun option?

So, I suppose my reasons for blogging are two-fold. First, it's a chance for me and the siblings to keep in touch and entertain each other, but it's also a chance for me to put myself out there and test the critical waters. I'm a big girl. I can take it. I think. Be kind!!!

Those are nice pics Lauren.

The weather not so nice here today; we are in the middle of a storm. Winter has been pretty good to us so far, except for the cold.

It feels good to be writing again (for fun AND for money). And I'm glad that we are all doing something together. It only took 30+ years for us to do it!

Next step is making a movie :)

Harsh Winter

It's been an unusually cold winter in Dublin this year. There was even ice on the lake in the park a few weeks ago. Still cant complain, can we? This photo was taken last Saturday in St Stephens Green. We should enjoy it while we can, in a year or two they are digging up a large part of the historic green to build an underground train station.

Laurens First Post

Oh feck, the pressure. I need to think about this.

Baby's First Entry!

I'm still convinced the only reason I've been included in this blog is because I won't join Facebook and you're all sick of trying to talk me into it. But that's fine, I will continue to hold out on that most important of social interactions and instead contribute to this. I still can't see why Facebook is so big anyway, but I know that I'm the outsider on this one. Maybe someday I'll start a Facebook page for Georgie (my puppy), because her daily life is definitely more interesting than mine is.
Think about it...she gets to roll around in the snow, chew up rubber toys, eat treats whenever and wherever she goes, (because she looks so pitiful that everyone wants to feed her), sleep whenever she wants to, smell other dogs butts... who wouldn't want to hear about that? All I do is go to work, make supper and sleep. Not exactly thrilling info for all those Facebookers out there is it?
Anyway, I look forward to reading and contributing to this blog, after all, we Noseworthy's are a pretty interesting bunch. Somebody out there might be entertained by our ramblings, right?

Allyson

P.S. I can't wait to read Lauren's first post.....

Thanks to Sandi for getting things going on the blog. I have actually been busy with work (yes, finally busy with some work after being off since August 2008!) I managed to get some freelance work from Water Werks. I am now a professional writer! It looks as if there will be a few jobs coming my way, which I am very excited about.

As for the blog, as Sandi said, who knows what direction things will go. But I think we are all too talented to not be doing something creative. Yes, I am tooting our own collective horns. If we don't do it ourselves, who else will?

So for now we write & contribute as often as we can. Get writing & picture taking the rest of you!

Introducing.........The Noseworthys!

So, we Noseworthy siblings (sans Bob) were sitting around over Christmas, lamenting the availability of fun, creative, ways in which to make a living. We are all creative in some way, be it writing, photography, music, illustration; why could we not turn that into employment of some kind? What we needed was one good idea. We needed a sure-fire, money making idea that would allow us to throw of the shackles of the cubicle world and become a professional writer. Ok, so it’s just me who works in a cubicle, but you get the idea. We all needed an outlet for all of this creativity. So, in the absence of paying jobs, I thought, “Why not start a blog?” I know we’re a little behind on the whole ‘blog’ thing, as people have been doing this for years, but, blogs can be helpful in many ways, including their therapeutic value, but as well, you never know who might read something one of us wrote, or saw one of Lauren’s pictures, or whatever the case may be. People have managed to turn web sites and blogs into their careers, why not The Noseworthys?

So, here’s our blog. All of the Noseworthy kids will be contributing in some way, shape or form. Even Reggie may make a guest appearance. We will all be authors of this blog, and I’m sure we’ll provide you all with nothing but interesting and informative reading, as well as a few laughs. I can only hope the laughs are with us and not at us, but this is the internet, after all. It’s peopled almost entirely with message boarders and other bloggers who feel it’s their job to criticize and mock.

It’s too early to say what form the blog will take, or what subjects we’ll be writing about, but for now, I just like having the option of sitting at the computer and typing without any particular agenda. As we go along, I’m sure it will take on some sort of organized form. For those of you who know me, you know that organization is not my strong suit. Maybe one of the more practical Noseworthys will come up with a solution for this potential problem. I just hope, that you, our friends, acquaintances, and family will give it a read, make comments when the spirit moves you, and generally support this endeavour.

Here’s a little about us:

Bob- The oldest (Happy Birthday tomorrow!), he’s a writer, illustrator, teacher, lover of flags. That’s an important “L” there, folks. Bob lives in Beijing with his wife LiLi where he teaches English.

Geoff- The second boy, he goes by “Gibbo” for reasons I’m still not that sure of, really. Gibbo’s a writer, ad guy, listener of Saxon, house computer-fixer-guy, and reformed smoker. Gibbo lives in St. John’s, the lucky devil!

Sandi- Me! The middle child, although Lauren really has the ‘chip on her shoulder’ complex. She’s protesting as she reads this, but it’s true. I live in Ottawa, and I write, or at least I try to. Not by trade, of course...I have a ‘real job’, such as it is. I’m single, and you may just be hearing about some dating (mis)adventures on this blog. I bet you can’t wait!

Lauren- The middle girl. Lauren’s a photographer/photojournalist who isn’t allowed to write anything on the blog. For those of you who have tried to decipher one of her emails will know why. Lauren lives in Dublin with her boyfriend, Declan, who has been made an honorary Noseworthy, in the hopes that he’ll post some awesome pictures here. He does have his own blog, once I’ll post a link to once I figure out how to do that.

Allyson- The baby. Awwwww. I suppose now that she’s 30 (ha!) she can’t really be called a baby anymore, but she’s the youngest of the five. She is a talented musician and singer, and lives in Mount Pearl (boo!) with her husband, Terry, who is also quite the prolific musician, and who will hopefully also contribute here.

John and Anne are so proud.

We also have very talented friends who will become frequent contributors to the blog once it’s on its feet. Well, maybe they will be after we bribe them with some beers. You would think the chance to write on the Noseworthy blog would be prestigious enough, really.

And so begins the epic Noseworthy blog. Be prepared for many pop culture references, Simpsons quotes, obscure song lyrics and general good times. Please feel free to read at your leisure and comment when possible.

Peace out.