Category: Holding onto the Past
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Kicking Leaves in Owego: my imaginarium
[On the left, in the distance, just beyond the white house, just hidden in the morning fog, is the riverbank where I played away my childhood. Photo is mine.] Great Grandpa, what’s an Imaginarium? Oh, Great Grandson, it’s like a rambling and cluttered room, an old room, a very big room. There are lots of…
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the four green fields blog7: Confessions of a flawed traveler
[Redwood Castle, Lorrha, Co Tipperary, Ireland. Photo is mine.] So, are ye staying the night? ~~Coleesa Egan My last blog post, No. 6 in my series. Oh, my last post from nearly a week ago. What can an honest man say about my determination to spend the night in my ancestral castle, reputed to be…
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the four green fields blog5: a poet’s grave
[A roadside flower, ready to spread it’s seed. Co Sligo, Ireland. Photo is mine.] When you are old and grey and full of sleep, And nodding by the fire, take down this book, And slowly read, and dream of the soft look Your eyes had once, and of their shadows deep; ~~from When You are…
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Peter, Lenny & pat’s big adventure
[The route. The dark blue line. Disregard the time notation. Source: Google Maps.] “I remember it was up hill all the way.” ~~ Lenny Schmidt “There is a cow outside of our tent.” ~~ Patrick Egan Oh, the exuberance of youth! The innocence of the young! The pure and wild wind in our hair and…
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To keep you from being homesick
[The found photograph. By unknown photographer, probably my father.] The past is hidden somewhere outside the realm, beyond the reach of intellect in some material object (in the sensation which that material object will give us) which we do not suspect, and as for that object, it depends upon chance whether we come upon it…
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Ooh, Paddy: A Boy Sits In The Grass Near His Grandfather
[My grandfather, George Hotchko. Photo is from the early 1970’s. Credit: Daniel Egan.] Oh, I dunno, Paddy. Sometimes those stories keep me up at night. They make me uncomfortable. ~~Spoken to me by my grandfather, George Hotchko. When I was a little boy. 1950’s. Part 1-Meeting my grandfather… Yes, the title. Of course I’m the…
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A Dark And Sad Anniversary
[Steve’s grave. Monroe, Louisiana. Photo is mine.] The past is a foreign country; they do things differently there. ~~ L. P. Hartley On Friday, November 22, I will step away from whatever social engagement I may be involved in…and I will look up to a cloud or maybe a single star. And I will remember.…
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On A Warm Halloween, Here’s Something For You
[The author at Highgate Cemetery, September, 2024. London. Photo is mine.] When I was a child, I was afraid of ghosts. When I grew up, I realized people are more scary. ~~Anon Once more, another year, another Halloween and another opportunity for me to share something spooky with you. No ghost photos this year. Not…
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Journey’s End 2: Ringo Blaze & The Screaming Toilet Fish From Hell
[The White Hart Pub. The same place I remember so well. But, not the same place I found a few nights ago. Photo is mine.] Me to my brother, Dan: They call themselves Ringo Blaze & The Screaming Toilet Fish From Hell. Eh? My brother, Dan to me: Green or purple eight inch spiked mohawk.…
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