Mrs Morrison's Hotel

The 100% personal official blog for Patricia Kennealy Morrison, author, Celtic priestess, retired rock critic, wife of Jim

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Location: New York, New York, United States

I was, wait, sorry, that's "David Copperfield". Anyway, I was born in Brooklyn, grew up on Long Island, went to school in upstate NY and came straight back to Manhattan to live. Never lived anywhere else. Never wanted to. Got a job as a rock journalist, in the course of which I met and married a rock star (yeah, yeah, conflict of interest, who cares). Became a priestess in a Celtic Pagan tradition, and (based on sheer longevity) one of the most senior Witches around. Began writing my Keltiad series. Wrote a memoir of my time with my beloved consort (Strange Days: My Life With and Without Jim Morrison). See Favorite Books below for a big announcement...The Rennie Stride Mysteries. "There is no trick or cunning, no art or recipe, by which you can have in your writing that which you do not possess in yourself." ---Walt Whitman (Also @ and

Thursday, March 30, 2006

Of Spring and The Tree-killer

Well, I can already see where this is going to be (a) addictive, and (b) yet another super-fun timesink (in the best sense, of course). So let's just get right the heck into it...

It is a lovely spring day out my window, and I'm cranky because spring not only means summer barrelling down the road and summers here are hellish, but NO MORE WINTER. I love winter. You can always put more clothes ON. There's a legal limit as to how many you can take off... Plus in spring/summer I can no longer wear all the nice warm fuzzy furry winter things I so love.

I'm particularly annoyed this spring...well, furious, really...because some borderline nutcase took a chainsaw to all the young trees in my neighborhood, including the Chinese willow outside my building that had a few years back replaced a much-loved 30-year-old littleleaf linden that fell over in a rainstorm.

AND Saruman Tree-killer also mutilated a gorgeous old appletree down the way. I actually wept when I saw it. AND he'd left a note in its bleeding stumps saying "Now this tree will thrive in spring!" With WHAT, pray, you freaking arboricidal wacko??? You cut off all its gloriously spreading branches!!!

I am tempted to leave notes in all the murdered trees to the effect that if I ever catch this guy at his 3 am work (somebody saw him and called the cops, but he escaped...too late, alas) I will cut him off at the knees with his own chainsaw and skewer his maimed trunk on the nearest, well, trunk. I loved that linden and appletree more than I love most people.

But, failing that, I'll just turn loose the Ents...


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