A terrible beauty is born

It has been one of these days when you can’t think straight owing to a certain 2 year old who has an awake time from 3.30 onwards. My time online has been restricted to quick tweets and Facebook updates and this very rushed post. Mr BG is currently bathing the kids while I type madly.

The National Library of Ireland has recently launched an online exhibition of WB Yeats. I love his poetry and managed to visit his grave just outside of Sligo when I was in Ireland a few years ago (yes tres Library nerdy- our Paris sojourn was spent in Pere Lachaise and the Montparnasse Cemetery for Oscar Wilde and JP Sartre and Simone de Beauvoir, and Serge Gainsbourg).

One of the things on my to-do list is to get more value out of Google Wave. Cory Bohn has 20 Real-Word Uses which look worthwhile exploring. BTW if anyone wants an invite, lemme know.

Bon voyage to @sallysetsforth and @killerjoules on their way to the Tour Downunder in Adelaide. Apart from the footy, the only time I felt passionate about a sport was cricket in the halycon days of the late 70’s and early 80’s and the likes of Lillee, Marsh, and Thommo pitted their wits against the likes of Viv Richards, Joel Garner and Michael Holding.


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