"These storied chapters herein, capture our life there as it might have happened. I have pasted the wonderful characters together from all the many vignettes we encompassed while dwelling amongst one of the most reflective societies today. Not reflective in some lofty sense, but as in a mirror of life that needs the rich loamy land and vibrant countryside to place one’s heart into. Ireland, with not much doubt, is the last and most beautiful, virginal country left today. I have seen many corners of this earth of great exotic beauty, but the endowments of pastoral Ireland leave one breathless. Its soft and natural charm is the result of native Irishmen resisting the huge industrial revolution that has changed lives within the short span of our diminutive existences."
Life on the Head!
"The next day, we awoke to the frightening feel of thunder under our house! The surf was up and you could feel the crash of the sea down at the cove. The tremors shuddered up through the bedrock to the cottage itself as it swept into our very being in its searching quest for relief. The vibrations were slightly mollified by the huge mass of the earth between the sea and us, but the impact was a revelation at the huge power of the water. I moved to the window to look down and see what was happening. The sky was gray, and out to sea, the horizon was obscured by mist and blowing waves. White tops were streaking downwind leaving foamy traces of their race. Down at cove side, huge breakers rolled in to the old concrete quay, threatening to break its remaining mortar and stone remnants from the last century."
On Gibby's Death!
"The old engineer had been making the trip back and forth from America for some years since he had retired from the Merchant Marine and was constantly torn between America and Ireland. Someone once commented on the lament of those souls that were like the Swallows, darting back and forth to Capistrano. He absolutely suffered at the thought of one or the other, so consequently kept traveling from here to there, not arriving here, when he missed his home in the States and would return only to come back, almost as quick. It was an affair of the heart and, it is the substance of this book!"
Katherine's house in Reen!
"The entire fireplace wall was field-stone to the ceiling and a broad beam of what looked like oak, sat across the stone like a lintel which held the next floor's base. More beams crossed the expanse above us and continued through this entire level. The windows were charmingly original, each with a myriad of small panes of venerable hand-made glass that's mottled view of the world outside made it seem to be looking through time portals!"
Patty on the chat with the Customs man!
"They told you to watch for smuggling, and to watch that silly Rafferty? The one who bought the sunken ship; 'Mai Tai Prince' for One Pound? Are they kidding or something? If they've told you, they've told everybody, and those they haven't told will find out by morning!" I said that they had all the appearances of being serious and shouldn't she be just as serious?
"Heavens to Betsy, no! She said, more disdain dripping from her. "It's my guess that the Customs doesn't have enough men to watch the smugglers and the entire coast, so they tell everybody that they're watching everything and not to tell anyone. Now, you know that here in Ireland, if you don't want to keep a secret, just tell everyone not to tell!!"
Katherine's collection;
"The walls were draped with field tools, worn with years of use displayed on their handles, where men's hands had eroded the wood and metal! Hammers with the heads preened down like mushroom caps, shovels with the edge worn back so far, the tool almost useless! Then, hung crookedly, dried and cracked, constantly broken and constantly repaired, webs of harnesses and mouth bits that would have linked bone-weary farm animals to thinly worn plow heads, covered one entire section."
Katherine on her father;
"And this was the uniform my 'Da used and fought alongside Michael Collins! You know, for the Independence!" I acknowledged the well-known part of history and just lightly touching the venerable old garment, frightened that I might be the one that doomed the treasured piece of antiquity!
Folds of fine Irish, hand-made lace lay yellowing in the corner where mildew could not help but lurk! I looked up and saw an old version of the flag hung over the small window that provided little light on the ghostly effects! Just as we turned to leave the room, Katherine hung captivated over something she had disturbed, the thought of it holding her there momentarily while her mind took her back, perhaps to when she was a child! Surely a thought of her father, I felt!
Tall Ships in Ireland!
"As we applauded the speeches, trays of seafood salads, mounded with fresh crab and crisp lettuce, were slid onto our chargers to start us on the many dishes that had to be tasted. Lads with more fine White Wine kept refilling our glasses as we sailed into our courses. Lobster Bisque came after the salad with a change of Wines! The wine was, of course, served with the logo of the Club on the bottles, but the bouquet was superbly dry, perhaps a Meursault, and it was my wish that I could have saved a bit for another day, but, alas, someone had to do the honors! Iced crab and cold lobster, shelled and served on Sea Grass, topped with an excellent sauce that was similar to a Remoulade, but deeper in flavor, followed! More wine came and an excellent Claret required fresh glasses. This preceded the mountain of food nestled, with some difficulty, onto the center of our table.
The center display of the magnificent meal was a large, poached Irish Salmon, dressed in swirls of fresh mayonnaise garnished with wisps of green lacy watercress! Watching my wife for signs of ‘Mind-your-manners’ stares, I sailed ahead into each course with great gusto. It was not that I could not duplicate this momentous feast at home on the Mullet, but out of serious affection for my host, whose feelings if I did not enjoy myself, might be deprecating indeed! As the desserts appeared, my luck ran out, for my wife started a process known as ‘knee-pinch’ which, as any married person knows, was sort of like a governor on a motor vehicle – used to keep it from going too fast!"
End paragraph of A Sojourn with Ireland!
While we stood there in the early hours, a slight mist still drifted down, broken by silvery shafts of moonlight that tried vainly to break the hold of the tenacious fog! As the Opal drove away with friends who waved warmly, we hugged each other and looked out to our eternal Sea. We watched our beloved cove emerge in the early morning’s light as it pried itself from the fingers of lacy fog, untangled itself of their soft hold, and promised another fine day ahead! As we looked back on the yet darkened headland, the soft yellow lights of Christmas Candles that had sat on window’s edge, flickered out one-by-one. We were truly blessed!