St. Patrick’s Day


St. Patrick’s Day is right around the corner – No really, it’s right there! What do you mean you don’t see it?

*hangs head in shame*

Yup, I saw it coming and it still startled me.

Don’t ask, my brain does weird things. That’s why I write. These are the images that run though my head. Sometimes at lightening speeds and sometimes agonizingly slow. And despite my highly capable organizational skills, I can’t seem to find my pictures of Ireland. Oh, maybe I’ll check one of my trusty thumb drives! I am, after all, on my third laptop since my honeymoon, and back then all I had was a desktop. Yup, 2003 feels a little bit like the dark ages. Don’t even make me talk about the 90s *shudder*

But I’m off topic again. Dang Day job took my brain cells. Back to Ireland.

Is a truly beautiful place, even the Burren, which has more rocks than green. Or well, a closer ratio than much of the Island. Did you know there was a cave there? Yeah for some reason I totally did not expect to find a cave, like one deep enough to have stalagmites and stalactites. I don’t recommend walking it in a short skirt in June. Caves are cold, but all my other clothing was at the laundry being washed.  Can I claim it was my first truly international trip and I might not have planned my clothing properly.

Ireland is also raining, but in the ten days of newlywed bliss that I was there, it only rained when we traveled (which was about every other day) but was sunny when we went out to explore the ruins.

Really, really cool ruins, that made me feel ancient. Old circle forts, that were so old a lot of people thought of them as fairy frost. (Apparently fairy’s don’t just need rings of mushrooms, who knew?) There could have been so much inspiration in Ireland for writing. Only I wasn’t writing then, well not the way I am now. But if I could only find the pictures I could give you illustrations for these ramblings, but I leave you with this tiny tale: In the Fort of Charles above the town Kinsale, a newlywed couple became a tragic tale of love. The Governor’s daughter married an officer and they strolled along the parapets of the fort upon their wedding day. The bride spied a flower, growing beautifully from the ledge and she begged of her husband to get it. Wanting to please he told her he would, but thought it might take a while. So back to their home she went as he did study the flower. Should he try to grab it himself he would be put in a precarious position.  A resourceful man the officer went to the nearest guard. He persuaded the man, to exchange jackets, for the Governor was known to have high expectations of discipline. Alas while the guard was picking the flower, the groom fell asleep at his post (drink or exhaustion no one knows). And wouldn’t you know the Governor decided then was a time to tour the fort.  Coming upon the fast asleep groom, whom he thought was merely a soldier, he shot the man dead. The bride ran out in time to see her groom lining dead upon the ground, her father a bit in shock. Without a thought she cast herself off, dying upon the rocks below the parapets. Her ghost now haunts the fort!

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