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patrickjegan

Respect your ancestors, for you are the result of a thousand loves….

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  • May 25, 2015

    Looking For A Silk Mill And Finding Barton Stacey

    It was clearly shown on the AA Road Atlas of Britain, right there on Map 19.  It was a stop I very much wanted to make. We were motoring south on the A34 from Oxford to visit our friends in Romsey. There at a small town of Tufton, was an attraction labelled SILK MILL. Admittedly,…

  • May 22, 2015

    Oxford Of My Dreams

    I was drifting off to sleep.  My dreams began.  I felt disoriented.  Where was I? I was in Oxford, England to accept an award for “Best Blogger in the World.” I was waiting in a room in one of the 38 colleges that make up the University.  I had walked here from the hotel, but…

  • May 18, 2015

    Yes, But Why Can’t You Go Home Again?

    It’s a cliché.  It’s a meme.  It’s been repeated a hundred billion times by three hundred billion people. “You can’t go home again” I’ve read Thomas Wolfe’s book by the same name.  It was a long time ago.  I may be wrong (correct me if I am), but I do not recall Wolfe ever saying…

  • May 16, 2015

    Dance Like A Wave Of The Sea

    I will arise and go now, and go to Innisfree… –W. B. Yeats Three decades have passed since I last walked the streets of Dublin, Galway and Sligo.  A great many things have changed in those years.  And, a great many haven’t.  The smell of peat-fires in Dublin on a December night, the blasts of…

  • May 13, 2015

    Beaver Lodge Available: No Cable Necessary

      [You have to look close for the small blue-gray dish. Trust me, it’s there.] Beavers, as everyone who has studied their natural history can attest, are amazing in a variety of ways.  The first thing that comes to mind is that they are considered “Natures Engineers” because they have the instinct to secure a…

  • May 8, 2015

    Digging A Grave On A Beautiful Spring Afternoon

    I stood in the soft loam, nine inches below ground level, leaned against my shovel, and thought about death and insects.  This is not a difficult thing to do when you’re helping to dig a grave on a day in May when the gnats and flies are biting ankles and arms.  After all, it is…

  • May 5, 2015

    My Search For The Mythic Buns Of The Woman’s Shoe Salon in Macy’s

    This whole situation started because the front pockets of my jacket zip down instead of up.  This may seem like a small matter but it is not a good thing because it can make it easier to lose such things as Metro Cards, iPhones, keys, hotel key card, reading glasses, sunglasses, pens and notebooks. Things…

  • April 26, 2015

    Playing Scrabble On Facebook With Your Daughter: The Agony And The Ecstasy

    There is on odious, evil and insistent karma that floats and follows me everywhere.  Like gnats on a hot afternoon in the Adirondacks, they follow me about in my own yard to plague my very soul.  Gnats (or is it the equally noxious black flies?) that have been known to drive a tundra dwelling musk ox…

  • April 22, 2015

    The Preference For Fog On The Downtown Bus

    The M1 bus stop where I was standing was on 5th Avenue and 98th Street.  It’s across the avenue from Mount Sinai Hospital.  It wasn’t raining…it was a downpour.  My flimsy $5.99 umbrella protected my head and shoulders but little else.  The front half of each shoe was soaked.  My outside flap of the shoulder…

  • April 15, 2015

    From My Cradle To Her Grave

    The first woman to see me naked is lying six feet down in the silt of the Susquehanna River.  It’s a small cemetery in a small community…not even a town or village…just a cluster of houses several miles down river from the town where I grew up. On the last day of May, I will…

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