<?xml version='1.0' encoding='UTF-8'?><?xml-stylesheet href="http://www.blogger.com/styles/atom.css" type="text/css"?><feed xmlns='http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom' xmlns:openSearch='http://a9.com/-/spec/opensearchrss/1.0/' xmlns:blogger='http://schemas.google.com/blogger/2008' xmlns:georss='http://www.georss.org/georss' xmlns:gd="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005" xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5400908078303856636</id><updated>2024-11-01T10:34:45.072+00:00</updated><category term="Rash"/><category term="flu"/><category term="funeral"/><category term="guinness"/><category term="robin"/><category term="tonic"/><category term="train"/><category term="wit"/><title type='text'>Norrie&#39;s Musings</title><subtitle type='html'>An elegant tapestry of quotations, musings, aphorisms, and autobiographical reflections...</subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://norriesmusings.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5400908078303856636/posts/default?redirect=false'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://norriesmusings.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>Norrie...</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07934520589989915447</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='https://img1.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>11</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>25</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5400908078303856636.post-5895401154321316290</id><published>2011-05-13T19:16:00.003+01:00</published><updated>2011-05-14T02:37:57.974+01:00</updated><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="robin"/><title type='text'>The Robin...</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align=&quot;center&quot; class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot; style=&quot;font-family: inherit; text-align: center;&quot;&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-size: small;&quot;&gt;A little bit of Heaven came to visit me today.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align=&quot;center&quot; class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot; style=&quot;font-family: inherit; text-align: center;&quot;&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-size: small;&quot;&gt;It hopped around the garden,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align=&quot;center&quot; class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot; style=&quot;font-family: inherit; text-align: center;&quot;&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-size: small;&quot;&gt;In its fascinating way.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align=&quot;center&quot; class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot; style=&quot;font-family: inherit; text-align: center;&quot;&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-size: small;&quot;&gt;It ate the food I placed for it&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align=&quot;center&quot; class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot; style=&quot;font-family: inherit; text-align: center;&quot;&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-size: small;&quot;&gt;And sang a cheerful song,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align=&quot;center&quot; class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot; style=&quot;font-family: inherit; text-align: center;&quot;&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-size: small;&quot;&gt;This feisty little robin,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align=&quot;center&quot; class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot; style=&quot;font-family: inherit; text-align: center;&quot;&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-size: small;&quot;&gt;How I wished that it would stay,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align=&quot;center&quot; class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot; style=&quot;font-family: inherit; text-align: center;&quot;&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-size: small;&quot;&gt;But it left a simple message,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align=&quot;center&quot; class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot; style=&quot;font-family: inherit; text-align: center;&quot;&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-size: small;&quot;&gt;As it gaily flew away.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align=&quot;center&quot; class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot; style=&quot;font-family: inherit; text-align: center;&quot;&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-size: small;&quot;&gt;It’s the little things in life that count.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align=&quot;center&quot; class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot; style=&quot;font-family: inherit; text-align: center;&quot;&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-size: small;&quot;&gt;They bring us the most joy,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align=&quot;center&quot; class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot; style=&quot;font-family: inherit; text-align: center;&quot;&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-size: small;&quot;&gt;And happiness comes from within,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align=&quot;center&quot; class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot; style=&quot;font-family: inherit; text-align: center;&quot;&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-size: small;&quot;&gt;&amp;nbsp;It&#39;s something you cannot buy.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Wisha when I wrote this poem I was thinking about the little robin I used to have myself. Well he was wild you know but he used to come over to me when I was putting out the food and things - not always mind you, but sometimes he used come to me. And when I&#39;d talk to him he&#39;d turn his head you know, a lovely little thing he was and fine and fat too. Well there was one time I was talking to him and he showing off to me with a worm when around the corner came my old boss Mr Casey. Didn&#39;t the robin hop away under a bush.&amp;nbsp; So there I was talking and he looking and there&#39;s no one there! Sure, I was very embarressed first, him thinking I was talking to a bush. I was there thinking &#39;will ya come out or he&#39;ll think I&#39;ve gone banannas&#39;. Well the robin flew back out anyway and Mr Casey couldn&#39;t get over how tame he was, hopping over to me. They can be very friendly you know, them and the wren.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div class=&quot;KonaBody&quot; style=&quot;margin: 0pt; padding: 0pt;&quot;&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-size: xx-small;&quot;&gt;&lt;i&gt;wisha&lt;/i&gt;&lt;span class=&quot;ssens&quot;&gt;—def : an irish idiom used as an intensive or to express surprise. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: &amp;quot;Garamond&amp;quot;,&amp;quot;serif&amp;quot;; font-size: 16pt;&quot;&gt;&lt;/span&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://norriesmusings.blogspot.com/feeds/5895401154321316290/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment/fullpage/post/5400908078303856636/5895401154321316290?isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5400908078303856636/posts/default/5895401154321316290'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5400908078303856636/posts/default/5895401154321316290'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://norriesmusings.blogspot.com/2011/05/robin.html' title='The Robin...'/><author><name>Norrie...</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07934520589989915447</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='https://img1.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5400908078303856636.post-5834082687324373989</id><published>2011-05-09T11:07:00.001+01:00</published><updated>2011-05-09T11:07:00.631+01:00</updated><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Rash"/><title type='text'>Something Rash...</title><content type='html'>Onetime, when we lived in Drimoleague, my Mam had a rash on her face and somebody told her to put zinc ointment on it, which is white you know, and someone else told her to put tar ointment on it, which is black. Well she put white ointment where &#39;twas a bit mild and the tar where it was more severe. She forgot all about it then and went cleaning. Well later didn&#39;t she answer the door to someone who was looking for my father. He didn&#39;t say anything to her but I suppose he didn&#39;t know what to make of her. She came in anyway and when she saw herself in the mirror in the hall she left a wail out of her. You could just imagine it. She gave out to us all for letting her out like that.&amp;nbsp;That was the end of the cleaning for that day!</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://norriesmusings.blogspot.com/feeds/5834082687324373989/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment/fullpage/post/5400908078303856636/5834082687324373989?isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5400908078303856636/posts/default/5834082687324373989'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5400908078303856636/posts/default/5834082687324373989'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://norriesmusings.blogspot.com/2011/05/something-rash.html' title='Something Rash...'/><author><name>Norrie...</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07934520589989915447</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='https://img1.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5400908078303856636.post-895364334990691143</id><published>2011-05-07T09:43:00.016+01:00</published><updated>2011-05-09T01:51:28.331+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Irish baby food...</title><content type='html'>In my time children used to have this as a meal, it&#39;s called Goodie. They&#39;re usen&#39;t be so many baby foods long ago and they&#39;d be expensive, people just had the plain things I suppose. I&#39;ve had it a few times; it&#39;s alright, at least you knew what you had. People had to make do I suppose.&lt;br /&gt;
Recipe:&lt;br /&gt;
You just heat some milk, break up a bit of bread and throw it on it with a bit of sugar. You couldn&#39;t go wrong with that.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
It won&#39;t do you any harm anyway. I wonder why they called it goodie? A funny name for it.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;a href=&quot;http://www.amazon.com/Cooking-Baby-Wholesome-Homemade-Delicious/dp/1416599185?ie=UTF8&amp;amp;tag=norrismusi-20&amp;amp;link_code=bil&amp;amp;camp=213689&amp;amp;creative=392969&quot; imageanchor=&quot;1&quot; target=&quot;_blank&quot;&gt;&lt;img alt=&quot;Cooking for Baby: Wholesome, Homemade, Delicious Foods for 6 to 18 Months&quot; src=&quot;http://ws.amazon.com/widgets/q?MarketPlace=US&amp;amp;ServiceVersion=20070822&amp;amp;ID=AsinImage&amp;amp;WS=1&amp;amp;Format=_SL160_&amp;amp;ASIN=1416599185&amp;amp;tag=norrismusi-20&quot; /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;img alt=&quot;&quot; border=&quot;0&quot; height=&quot;1&quot; src=&quot;http://www.assoc-amazon.com/e/ir?t=norrismusi-20&amp;amp;l=bil&amp;amp;camp=213689&amp;amp;creative=392969&amp;amp;o=1&amp;amp;a=1416599185&quot; style=&quot;border: medium none ! important; margin: 0px ! important; padding: 0px ! important;&quot; width=&quot;1&quot; /&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://norriesmusings.blogspot.com/feeds/895364334990691143/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment/fullpage/post/5400908078303856636/895364334990691143?isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5400908078303856636/posts/default/895364334990691143'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5400908078303856636/posts/default/895364334990691143'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://norriesmusings.blogspot.com/2011/05/irish-baby-food.html' title='Irish baby food...'/><author><name>Norrie...</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07934520589989915447</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='https://img1.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5400908078303856636.post-8153293559799918678</id><published>2011-05-06T08:56:00.003+01:00</published><updated>2011-05-06T08:56:00.674+01:00</updated><title type='text'>The Carpenter...</title><content type='html'>My sister Kitty got a chest of drawers made and when she went into the carpenter she said;&lt;br /&gt;
&quot;You never put the knobs on my chest since...Oh no!...I meant my drawers.&quot;&lt;br /&gt;
He was in stitches.</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://norriesmusings.blogspot.com/feeds/8153293559799918678/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment/fullpage/post/5400908078303856636/8153293559799918678?isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5400908078303856636/posts/default/8153293559799918678'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5400908078303856636/posts/default/8153293559799918678'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://norriesmusings.blogspot.com/2011/05/carpenter.html' title='The Carpenter...'/><author><name>Norrie...</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07934520589989915447</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='https://img1.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5400908078303856636.post-6101209275170010906</id><published>2011-05-05T10:11:00.007+01:00</published><updated>2011-05-06T13:11:50.114+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Chewing On A Bone...</title><content type='html'>When I was going to school Nanny told me to call into the butchers on the way home for a bone for the dog. When I got there, instead of asking for a bone for the dog, I asked for a bone for my Aunt. He gave it to me and said;&lt;br /&gt;
&quot;Here, that should keep her going for a while.&quot;&lt;br /&gt;
And there were people in the shop too of course. They had a good laugh. You could imagine my aunt then chewing a bone like.</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://norriesmusings.blogspot.com/feeds/6101209275170010906/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment/fullpage/post/5400908078303856636/6101209275170010906?isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5400908078303856636/posts/default/6101209275170010906'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5400908078303856636/posts/default/6101209275170010906'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://norriesmusings.blogspot.com/2011/05/chewing-on-bone.html' title='Chewing On A Bone...'/><author><name>Norrie...</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07934520589989915447</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='https://img1.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5400908078303856636.post-6597793125897249232</id><published>2011-05-04T12:38:00.001+01:00</published><updated>2011-05-05T18:55:45.121+01:00</updated><title type='text'>The Shoe Factory...</title><content type='html'>When I was in the shoe factory in Bantry I remember Miss Anton, the supervisor, coming in to me and she said; &quot;There&#39;s hardly any sewing being done in that room, they&#39;re sleeping with open eyes!&quot; And she meant it. I thought that it was comical. Hardly any sewing being done in that room...heh.&lt;br /&gt;
The owner, a Mr Frick was German and was not too impressed with the Irish work ethic either. One time a young fella came in and said he wouldn&#39;t be at work the next week as he had to bring the sheep down from the mountain. &quot;Oh right&quot; said Mr. Frick &quot;Well I&#39;ll close the whole factory so we can get your sheep off the mountain!&quot; He used to complain the Irish were lazy and that German women would be up at 6 o&#39;clock in the morning to go shopping before work, by the way we would still be in bed. We were in bed when they were up and up too late when they were in bed.&lt;br /&gt;
The factory didn&#39;t last long.</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://norriesmusings.blogspot.com/feeds/6597793125897249232/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment/fullpage/post/5400908078303856636/6597793125897249232?isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5400908078303856636/posts/default/6597793125897249232'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5400908078303856636/posts/default/6597793125897249232'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://norriesmusings.blogspot.com/2011/05/shoe-factory.html' title='The Shoe Factory...'/><author><name>Norrie...</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07934520589989915447</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='https://img1.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5400908078303856636.post-1206668064316335465</id><published>2011-05-03T14:53:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2011-05-03T14:53:04.448+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Real Wealth...</title><content type='html'>There was a man in bandon who was very poor, with no family you know, but popular with people. They used to call him &#39;Tol-ol&#39;. He died anyway and when I went up to the chapel a year later I saw his grave and t&#39;was very well kept, with a beautiful headstone with his name and date and everything and underneath it said; &#39;&lt;i&gt;Erected by his friends&lt;/i&gt;&#39;. T&#39;would tell you how well liked he was.&lt;br /&gt;
So he was poor in money but rich in friendship.</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://norriesmusings.blogspot.com/feeds/1206668064316335465/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment/fullpage/post/5400908078303856636/1206668064316335465?isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5400908078303856636/posts/default/1206668064316335465'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5400908078303856636/posts/default/1206668064316335465'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://norriesmusings.blogspot.com/2011/05/real-wealth.html' title='Real Wealth...'/><author><name>Norrie...</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07934520589989915447</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='https://img1.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5400908078303856636.post-6811434094650343881</id><published>2011-05-01T12:54:00.001+01:00</published><updated>2011-05-01T12:55:43.228+01:00</updated><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="train"/><title type='text'>A Witty Telegram...</title><content type='html'>My father was an inspector on the railway and he had this story.  It happened somewhere on what used to be the Great Southern Railway. I don&#39;t know where exactly but my father had it anyway. There was an engine driver named Gilligan and his engine came off the rails. They worked hard to get it back on in time before the next train came around. He sent a telegram to head office reporting the accident...&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&quot;Off again. On again. Gone again. Gilligan.&quot;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
They were laughing at it of course.</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://norriesmusings.blogspot.com/feeds/6811434094650343881/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment/fullpage/post/5400908078303856636/6811434094650343881?isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5400908078303856636/posts/default/6811434094650343881'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5400908078303856636/posts/default/6811434094650343881'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://norriesmusings.blogspot.com/2011/05/train-story.html' title='A Witty Telegram...'/><author><name>Norrie...</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07934520589989915447</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='https://img1.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5400908078303856636.post-8330296499641709675</id><published>2011-04-30T13:08:00.001+01:00</published><updated>2011-04-30T13:10:32.811+01:00</updated><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="funeral"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="wit"/><title type='text'>A Quick Wit...</title><content type='html'>One time in Bandon, the priest was near Jack at the funeral saying prayers, when the bell went and the priest noticed that Jack had finished well before him.&lt;br /&gt;
&quot;You were quick at saying the Angelus Jack.&quot;&lt;br /&gt;
said the priest suspiciously,&lt;br /&gt;
and yer man said&lt;br /&gt;
&quot;That&#39;s practice father.&quot;&lt;br /&gt;
He was very quick with his answers.&lt;br /&gt;
Jack&amp;nbsp; Ahearne was his name. He used to work in Reilly&#39;s funeral home in north main street in Bandon, that&#39;s how the priest knew him so well. He&#39; dead years now.</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://norriesmusings.blogspot.com/feeds/8330296499641709675/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment/fullpage/post/5400908078303856636/8330296499641709675?isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5400908078303856636/posts/default/8330296499641709675'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5400908078303856636/posts/default/8330296499641709675'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://norriesmusings.blogspot.com/2011/04/irish-funeral-story.html' title='A Quick Wit...'/><author><name>Norrie...</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07934520589989915447</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='https://img1.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5400908078303856636.post-5905580967063847014</id><published>2011-04-30T00:29:00.005+01:00</published><updated>2011-05-10T00:12:00.079+01:00</updated><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="flu"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="guinness"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="tonic"/><title type='text'>Stout and Milk...</title><content type='html'>This is an old Irish tonic - I used to have it especially if I felt run  down or had the flu;&amp;nbsp; it&#39;s a pick-me-up-after. It used to be given in  hospitals and places as a tonic. Up in Gurranebraher, a hospital near Cork, there was a girl there for a year and she wasn&#39;t able to stand at all. She was on raw  eggs every morning with a drop of sherry in them and stout and milk at  eleven or half past and she had her ordinary meals as well.  There was a  Doctor O&#39;Connell who ordered it for her. Well, she went home fine.&lt;br /&gt;
Here&#39;s the recipe...&lt;br /&gt;
Just  a glass or a cup; you wouldn&#39;t want a big heap of it. I suppose half  and half roughly, half milk and half Guinness with a bit of sugar in it  and stir it up. It&#39;s supposed to be good for the blood and you can have  it every day if you want, just a glass of it like. These are the glasses I use,  they&#39;re nice old vintage ones.&lt;br /&gt;
That&#39;s it then. Some of those old things would be better than any of that packet stuff.&lt;br /&gt;
And it gives you an appetite too....&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;a href=&quot;http://www.amazon.com/Luminarc-E3478-Guinness-S-Vintage/dp/B0013ZA8PI?ie=UTF8&amp;amp;tag=norrismusi-20&amp;amp;link_code=bil&amp;amp;camp=213689&amp;amp;creative=392969&quot; imageanchor=&quot;1&quot; target=&quot;_blank&quot;&gt;&lt;img alt=&quot;Guinness S/4 Vintage&quot; src=&quot;http://ws.amazon.com/widgets/q?MarketPlace=US&amp;amp;ServiceVersion=20070822&amp;amp;ID=AsinImage&amp;amp;WS=1&amp;amp;Format=_SL160_&amp;amp;ASIN=B0013ZA8PI&amp;amp;tag=norrismusi-20&quot; /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;img alt=&quot;&quot; border=&quot;0&quot; height=&quot;1&quot; src=&quot;http://www.assoc-amazon.com/e/ir?t=norrismusi-20&amp;amp;l=bil&amp;amp;camp=213689&amp;amp;creative=392969&amp;amp;o=1&amp;amp;a=B0013ZA8PI&quot; style=&quot;border: medium none ! important; margin: 0px ! important; padding: 0px ! important;&quot; width=&quot;1&quot; /&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://norriesmusings.blogspot.com/feeds/5905580967063847014/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment/fullpage/post/5400908078303856636/5905580967063847014?isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5400908078303856636/posts/default/5905580967063847014'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5400908078303856636/posts/default/5905580967063847014'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://norriesmusings.blogspot.com/2011/04/guinness-is-good-for-you.html' title='Stout and Milk...'/><author><name>Norrie...</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07934520589989915447</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='https://img1.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5400908078303856636.post-757141228575695288</id><published>2011-04-27T00:11:00.001+01:00</published><updated>2011-04-27T01:22:43.688+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Welcome...</title><content type='html'>Hello,&lt;br /&gt;
Welcome to my new blog.&lt;br /&gt;
My new book has taken very well and I hope to further expand on it&#39;s themes here. &lt;br /&gt;
I hope you&#39;ll find a few moments to read, relax and enjoy my various musings!</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://norriesmusings.blogspot.com/feeds/757141228575695288/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment/fullpage/post/5400908078303856636/757141228575695288?isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5400908078303856636/posts/default/757141228575695288'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5400908078303856636/posts/default/757141228575695288'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://norriesmusings.blogspot.com/2011/04/welcome.html' title='Welcome...'/><author><name>Norrie...</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07934520589989915447</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='https://img1.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry></feed>