Went out for a wee spin this evening and found another crop of windmills - there everywhere. I'm all for them - green energy and all that.
However with so many of them there must be a danger that the country will get ripped up out of the ocean some windy day and Ireland will go flying off somewhere else.
If the wind was from the North we would head South to sunnier latitudes - no bad thing thinks I.
However the kind of gale likely to rip Ireland up by its roots is likely to be from the South West. That puts us on a collision course with Scotland. Assuming we clear Scotland - Ben Nevis is 4000 foot high so that is a big assumption - we are in the North sea and heading for Scandinavia or Siberia.
I'm not now so sure about the wisdom of these windmills.
Those of you thinking this is a bit radical need to reflect that men(and possibly women) once thought the Earth to be flat.
What I'm saying is that I may be a man (not a woman) ahead of my time.
Is there anyone out there who like me sees the peril Ireland is now in?
If yes are you prepared to do something about it.
Thee is no point in huffin and puffin in vane; save your wind - radical action is called for.
I'm setting up a Champagne fund to fight these evil monsters.
Stuff a few bob in a plain brown envelope and send it to me at the Don Quixote foundation in Tralee.
Do it now - but not while driving - you'll be glad you did.
Remember where you heard of this first - keep Ireland in Ireland - send that money now.
I'm only sorry that this insight did not hit me a few months ago and I could have sought a seat in Europe to highlight the grave peril our little nation faces.
Send this message to 10 of your friends or your fuel pump sender will fail and you'll break out in a rash that no Airhawk will protect you against.
God save Ireland and bung the few bob my way now.
Round, like a circle in a spiral
Like a wheel within a wheel.
Never ending or beginning,
On an ever spinning wheel
Like a snowball down a mountain
Or a carnaval balloon
Like a carousell that's turning
Running rings around the moon
Like a clock whose hands are sweeping
Past the minutes on it's face
And the world is like an apple
Whirling silently in space
Like the circles that you find
In the windmills of your mind
Like a tunnel that you follow
To a tunnel of it's own
Down a hollow to a cavern
Where the sun has never shone
Like a door that keeps revolving
In a half forgotten dream
Or the ripples from a pebble
Someone tosses in a stream.
Like a clock whose hands are sweeping
Past the minutes on it's face
And the world is like an apple
Whirling silently in space
Like the circles that you find
In the windmills of your mind
Keys that jingle in your pocket
Words that jangle your head
Why did summer go so quickly
Was it something that I said
Lovers walking allong the shore,
Leave their footprints in the sand
Was the sound of distant drumming
Just the fingers of your hand
Pictures hanging in a hallway
And a fragment of this song
Half remembered names and faces
But to whom do they belong
When you knew that it was over
Were you suddenly aware
That the autumn leaves were turning
To the color of her hair
Like a circle in a spiral
Like a wheel within a wheel
Never ending or beginning,
On an ever spinning wheel
As the images unwind
Like the circle that you find
In the windmills of your mind
Pictures hanging in a hallway
And the fragment of this song
Half remembered names and faces
But to whom do they belong
When you knew that it was over
Were you suddenly aware
That the autumn leaves were turning
To the color of her hair
Like a circle in a spiral
Like a wheel within a wheel
Never ending or beginning,
On an ever spinning wheel
As the images unwind
Like the circles that you find
In the windmills of your mind
Time for bed now - the nurse said to turn out the lights - goodnight Sancho
However with so many of them there must be a danger that the country will get ripped up out of the ocean some windy day and Ireland will go flying off somewhere else.
If the wind was from the North we would head South to sunnier latitudes - no bad thing thinks I.
However the kind of gale likely to rip Ireland up by its roots is likely to be from the South West. That puts us on a collision course with Scotland. Assuming we clear Scotland - Ben Nevis is 4000 foot high so that is a big assumption - we are in the North sea and heading for Scandinavia or Siberia.
I'm not now so sure about the wisdom of these windmills.
Those of you thinking this is a bit radical need to reflect that men(and possibly women) once thought the Earth to be flat.
What I'm saying is that I may be a man (not a woman) ahead of my time.
Is there anyone out there who like me sees the peril Ireland is now in?
If yes are you prepared to do something about it.
Thee is no point in huffin and puffin in vane; save your wind - radical action is called for.
I'm setting up a Champagne fund to fight these evil monsters.
Stuff a few bob in a plain brown envelope and send it to me at the Don Quixote foundation in Tralee.
Do it now - but not while driving - you'll be glad you did.
Remember where you heard of this first - keep Ireland in Ireland - send that money now.
I'm only sorry that this insight did not hit me a few months ago and I could have sought a seat in Europe to highlight the grave peril our little nation faces.
Send this message to 10 of your friends or your fuel pump sender will fail and you'll break out in a rash that no Airhawk will protect you against.
God save Ireland and bung the few bob my way now.
Round, like a circle in a spiral
Like a wheel within a wheel.
Never ending or beginning,
On an ever spinning wheel
Like a snowball down a mountain
Or a carnaval balloon
Like a carousell that's turning
Running rings around the moon
Like a clock whose hands are sweeping
Past the minutes on it's face
And the world is like an apple
Whirling silently in space
Like the circles that you find
In the windmills of your mind
Like a tunnel that you follow
To a tunnel of it's own
Down a hollow to a cavern
Where the sun has never shone
Like a door that keeps revolving
In a half forgotten dream
Or the ripples from a pebble
Someone tosses in a stream.
Like a clock whose hands are sweeping
Past the minutes on it's face
And the world is like an apple
Whirling silently in space
Like the circles that you find
In the windmills of your mind
Keys that jingle in your pocket
Words that jangle your head
Why did summer go so quickly
Was it something that I said
Lovers walking allong the shore,
Leave their footprints in the sand
Was the sound of distant drumming
Just the fingers of your hand
Pictures hanging in a hallway
And a fragment of this song
Half remembered names and faces
But to whom do they belong
When you knew that it was over
Were you suddenly aware
That the autumn leaves were turning
To the color of her hair
Like a circle in a spiral
Like a wheel within a wheel
Never ending or beginning,
On an ever spinning wheel
As the images unwind
Like the circle that you find
In the windmills of your mind
Pictures hanging in a hallway
And the fragment of this song
Half remembered names and faces
But to whom do they belong
When you knew that it was over
Were you suddenly aware
That the autumn leaves were turning
To the color of her hair
Like a circle in a spiral
Like a wheel within a wheel
Never ending or beginning,
On an ever spinning wheel
As the images unwind
Like the circles that you find
In the windmills of your mind
Time for bed now - the nurse said to turn out the lights - goodnight Sancho
