Well we have been here a week already. My folks have moved to basically the middle of nowhere. I know the people who live there think it's the center of the universe, but I have been to the center of the universe and beyond and I promise you, this green valley in Ireland's Golden Vale, is not it. It's not far from it, but it's not it.
The new house is wonderful.
The cousins the brothers and sisters the sons and daughters, all dressed up with face paint, the house was decorated, we sang and ate, and ate and sang. The young ones called on doors, collected sweets, fruit, and money. They were chased by a mythical police man who was called by a crazy old man who apparently wasn't fond of halloweeners.
The difficult part of the trip is over, all those I had a duty to see have been seen. We bent timetables and ourselves out of shape, trying to accommodate the time tables of others. Really we just want to be with those we love and those who love us.
We head north tomorrow, passing close to more ancestors, and living relatives, to see the place where the giants lived.
Today finally it is a dirty day. The rain is fine, a mist almost. Just that bit heavier that it falls. The drops are so numerous and so minuscule they penetrate the all but the most impermeable fabric. ......
The green rolling countryside eases my eyes, my son is hyper as if the energy of the land is flowing through him.... my loved ones are truly beautiful...
7 days here and only 1 day of rain. It's almost as if it doesn't rain in Ireland.
Imaginary Authors: Violet Disguise, Every Storm a Serenade, Saint Julep - Evocative biographical notes, labels of collaged imagery, Imaginary Authors builds stories fulfilled in perfume. They are casual yet glamorous, and each o...
3 weeks ago