Tag: Ireland
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Slán
THE CLIFFS OF DOONEEN You may travel far far from your own native home Far away oer the mountains far away oer the foam But of all the fine places that I’ve ever seen, There’s none to compare with The Cliffs of Dooneen Take a view oer the water fine sights you’ll see there You’ll…
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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…
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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…
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Fabled Cuchlain
In the lobby of the General Post Office in Dublin is a bronze statue. It depicts an ancient Irish warrior, standing but slumped over in death. If you look closely, you can notice that he is really not standing…he is tied to a stake. A raven stands on his shoulder. The sculpture is by Oliver…
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The Social History of a Man’s Tie Rack
Many of you, my faithful readers and fans, probably assume that I just write a blog and then go off and mow the lawn, fish, read, paint, take Pilates, go to a movie, make a big bowl of popcorn, cook a stack of buttermilk flapjacks, attend a men’s support group, catalogue my moth collection,…
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Mummies in Dublin? or How I Filled a Day Looking For a White Horse
Right here at the start, I’ll say that if you want a good look at Dublin, a really good look, then you have to do some homework. Go out and buy a copy of James Joyce’s’ Ulysses, pick up a Cliff Notes while you’re at it, and read away. This zillion page novel takes the…
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The Maltese Stylus
I looked out of the port-hole and saw the contrails of 757’s heading east, toward LA or Frisco, most likely. So, good for them, I thought, let them get somewhere fast. Me? I’m happy right here, in the small cabin of a tramp steamer heading straight into Nowheresvilleport. Once I get there, I’m heading for…
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An American in Dorset (an excerpt)
Preface As I understand it, I am not allowed to donate blood. I have the British Government to partly thank for this dilemma. It so happens that I resided in Great Britain during the years when Mad Cow Disease was in its very early stages. I say, “partly thank” because even though MCD began to…
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