Sunday, August 10, 2008

Day 13





Day 13: There was a lashing storm last night, with gale force winds and torrents of rain at times. Cindy though she heard flying sheep hitting the walls somewhere around midnight! It was entirely grey when we awoke this morning, a uniform blanket of swirling mist. It’s almost like being on a boat up here… you feel unmoored from the land around you.

We made up some thick oatmeal and drizzled it was the brambleberry sauce that Mom cooked down the night before. Somewhere around noon we decided Indian food sounded good, so we drove into Bantry to find some. Unfortunately it was closed, and we wandered around a bit to see what was out there. We found a little place called the Atlanta B&B and Café. The prices looked too good to be true and the food turned out to be super excellent. Laura had a spicy tomato and meatball soup, a huge chicken and cranberry sandwich, and helped to polish off the two desserts we ordered. Cindy and Tom’s Beef and Guinness pie was good (though Tom was searching for meat) and Lisa’s salmon over noodles was a nice change from the ordinary. Clare had a lovely melty ham and cheese sandwich with a boat of French fries. Bill had a steak sandwich with yummy horseradish sauce. Hot chocolate cake and buttery apple tart with heavy cream were the caps to the meal.

We wandered through Bantry a while then, poking our heads into jewelry shops and cute boutiques. The rain was pretty steady and we finally decided to duck into the Biggs Superstore (the equivalent of Ralphs) and get provisions for dinner. This whole shopping every couple of days thing is hard… we really could use a proper refrigerator to hold enough for six people. As it is, a quarter gallon of milk is all that will fit in the door. With a six pack of Guinness taking up daily space, it’s prime real estate in there.

Speaking of real estate, Tom’s got the bug. Every window that has houses, farmhouses, derelict buildings, or commercial spaces for sale is an occasion to pore over the details and dream about the little hamlet on an acre in some backcountry glen. The prices aren’t as astronomical as in years’ past, but they aren’t cheap, either. It’s hard to imagine what one might do to keep income coming in, as most of these places are so far off the main roads that the only people that might pass by are the burly old farmer and his scrappy sheepdog. I’ve decided that if we move here for a half a year, I’m going to do alpaca or llama farming and put up a good competition for the woolen business here in sheep country. It’s either that or goats for cheese, and Tom’s terribly allergic to that idea ☺.

Tonight Cindy, Clare and Lisa went brambleberry picking. Nana showed Clare how to pick without being snagged by the bushes. Clare and Nana recalled seeing a sheep caught up in the brambles the other day, but it freed itself after much yelling and struggling.

Dinner this night was Guinness Stew made by you-know-who and salad and bread, as is the running theme here. It’s hard to vary it too much, as basics are so expensive. We might just get crazy next week and throw in some pasta or rice here and there. Woo hoo! With Kari being a pesci-tarian, we’ll have a bit of planning to do about that.

The weather turns again this evening. The clouds and rain have moved on; the sun makes itself known around 7 at night, [it’s daylight until 10:30 here], tomorrow will bring better weather. The news tells us that parts of Dublin are flooded and the roads have problems up through the midlands. You don’t come to Ireland for the weather. It’s the land and the people and the experience. Nevertheless, the weather is on everyone’s mind, the Irish included, they haven’t had a summer like this in recent memory.

Cindy, Bill, and Laura pack up tonight for the drive up to Shannon and their stay at the Bunratty Inn Sunday night before their VERY early flight out Monday morning.

Colin and Kari arrive tomorrow, the second wave of our family in Ireland. They have been in Dublin for the past few days. We’ll pick them up in Cork tomorrow and take them to Blarney, then on to our farmhouse.

téigh in éag (means: to end!)

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