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Published: March 29th 2006
A cold front from the East was replaced by a warm front from the West. The result was four days of hard rain. Last Thursday I had a blast cycling around in the rain taking pictures in the emotional mist that hung in the air. Wet, cold, and in pure photographic ecstasy. That was about the last of the fun I had with the rain.
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A truck is a lory
A cigarette is a fag
A restroom is a toilet and you get there by going to the loo
You ring someone on the phone and call on them at their home
The town is small and the streets smaller
It makes it as easy to call as it is to ring
I called on Mary the Pharmacist to pick up some medicine
Being used to meeting tourist she gave great suggestions of local things to see
She also suggested I call in on Noel the Taylor
I called in on Noel the Taylor
As he sits in his dark little shop from ages gone by, many call on him
Some call for darning
Some call for a good crac (conversation)
Some call to go to the loo
They have called from around the world as evidenced from the Chinese calendar and postcards on the wall
I called in on Noel the Taylor the next day
That was a good thing
Noel the Taylor called on Mary the Pharmacist
Mary the Pharmacist called on Sandra the Inn Keeper
The message: be sure to call in on Noel the Taylor.
The next day I called on a gentleman who lives across from the Baker
The baker calls me over to the bakery
As I wait in line for the Baker Noel the Taylor comes in to buy his lunch
The message from the baker: call in on the gentleman at half six.
From this I learn the networks that make up Cappoquin
Holding it together as sure as the streets and phoning wires
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Friday in Ireland was Daffodil Day, a National fundraiser for Cancer. I gave a donation and walked away with a bundle of fresh daffodils. Sunday was Mothers Day in Ireland. I took the Daffodils down to the Blackwater River. Just on the other side of the stone bridge is a little gate that leads to a path. Positioned along the river at regular intervals are stairs for the fishermen. I placed the daffodils upon the water's surface in memory of my mother. One by one the flowers floated slowly downstream as if a string of yellow pearls. As they disappeared into the distance they symbolized the ebbing of my mothers life from this world to the next.
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My host had a house full of family to celebrate Mothers Day. It was a bit like being at someone elses Thanksgiving feast with all the family dynamics. The fact that they have seen so many visitors come and go over the year, and that they barely notice you, did not help with the lonely cooped up gloom that the rain brought. I did get out of the house when the gentleman I called on on Saturday took me out for a rain drenched garden tour to raise money for the local development office. Afterwords we sat in their tiny kitchen next to their old peat burning stove and talked about politics and current events.
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The visiting family brought with them a stomach flu - vomiting bug in Ireland. Just as the rain cleared up on Monday I came down with it. I spent about 24 hours in bed, cheered by the fact that my view out the window is that of the gray clouds. My reading choice of late has been about the Irish Famine. There is nothing better when you are puking your guts out to lie around and read about the concentration camp like welfare houses of the great Famine.
Last night I slept like a baby and am feeling like a million bucks. I also have a cycling plan from here. On Saturday I plan to leave on a three week cycling trip that will take me along the south and west coast of Ireland and hopefully all the way up to Galway. From there I will bus back to Cappoquin for a week recovery and reorganization. Then I catch a flight to Germany to visit a friend from collage and go to a Formula One auto race (with rented car on the Autobahn - - Yeee Haaa!). After two weeks I will return to Ireland and shortly after that to the States.
Many have suggested that I will discover a hook here in Ireland and stay. After 3 weeks here I have little interest in finding the famed Irish lass or a job in Ireland (Contrary to myth they do not come gliding across the fair in purple and white robes offering marriage). After visiting 10 communities in 7 states and 2 countries I have realized that my place is in Western Washington. I have no desire, or need, to start new in a new community. I have a lot to accomplish back home and a lot to return too.
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Thank you.
Thank you for the postcard! It is displayed on the fridge. I am so happy to hear you will be returning to the states willingly. What is you arrival date? Do you know? I am still grateful for the blog. Keeps you from disapearing.