After spending four days as little miss know-it-all with Garmin GPS in backseat, Heather got behind the wheel. Driving on the left-hand side of the road is challenging for most Americans, but for Heather, it was as if she had been driving here her entire life. Heather's theory: “It’s from all those years of playing Pole Position.’’
Wednesday, December 10, 2008
Irish officials say pork off
Irish hospitality has outdone itself this week. Consider that they have four Americans from Iowa casting about in County Cork. Sure, the Iowans love the scenery and the good people they’ve met in Rosscarbery.
But being Iowans, who all happen to work in the media, they are accustomed at least one jigger per day of pig news. So, to assure that the Iowans would not be incapacitated by nostalgic longing for pig news, someone in Ireland arranged for the headlines here to be dominated by pig news.
It seems some pigs somewhere ate some bad feed. For safety sake, Irish officials pulled all pork products off the shelves. That means no rashers, no sausage, no pork chops, no bangers. It was “Pork Off,’’ as one headline writer for a tabloid newspaper put it.
The Iowans heard the news Sunday in O’Mahoney’s, a small pub in Ardfield. At first, they thought it was a joke concocted for the benefit of four Iowans who might be going through pig-news withdrawal. But soon enough, the Iowans realized the news was both sad and true. OK, so Iowans are accustomed to pig news, but hearing this makes us feel bad for everyone touched by the episode.
Release the hounds
Everyone who knows John and Heather can appreciate how much they love dogs. So, in a way, it is appropriate that our two encounters with killer canine were visited upon them. Call it the revenge of Riley and Quinn.
On Saturday, as we headed west, we turned down a lane so that John could shoot some scenery. Heather got out of the car too. Carol and Tom, being somewhat jaded perhaps, stayed in the car. While John, cap turned backward, snapped away, Heather ambled down the lane a bit. Without warning, a large black farm dog bounded out of the brush. The dog startled Heather, who began to make her way gingerly back toward the car. Clearly the dog was deliriously happy about having some human contact, indifferent to the reluctance on the part of the human. Heather ‘s every move back to the vehicle was diplomatic, sort of like a woman trying to move away from a drunk friend in a bar. For his part, the dog became even more enamored. His muddy paws left brown prints on her jeans. And poor Heather, as she finally eased into the backseat, smelled a little like a swamp mutt who’d been left out in the rain.
Monday, on our way toward the nearby sea, we stopped at a castle ruin. Across the road from a most impressive ruin, we spied more spires over the tree line. As John stepped out of the car about a dozen different dogs raced toward him, baring their fangs. As the lead dog was about to get the taste of fresh American ankle, John was able to pull himself back into the car. With all of us safely inside, we ventured forward. A woman came up to us as we rolled through a courtyard that clearly dated back to centuries ago. We had seen no “private property” signs, but still we apologized. The woman smiled. She said it was no problem. “Can we get out and take some pictures?’’ we asked. She smiled again, but shook her head. “Oh, I wouldn’t. Cross dogs.’’ None of us had ever heard the expression “cross dogs’’ before, but we knew enough catechism to know that “cross dogs’’ was not old Irish slang for Christian dogs.
You say it’s your birthday
It is official according to Sean O’Donovan, The Abbey Bar’s publican and a man who would certainly know about such things. Talia, who turned 11 on Tuesday, became the first American girl to hear a pub in Rosscarbery sing “Happy Birthday’’ on a cell phone via satellite.
Talia is the daughter of Tom, John’s older brother. Uncle John and Aunt Heather felt bad about being 5,000 miles away, on the other side of the Atlantic Ocean, for Talia’s birthday. So, they figured they could celebrate in spirit.
They told just about everyone in town about Talia’s birthday. At Pascal O’Brien’s pub, they found Ger Deasy, one of the best entertainers in the land, and convinced him to waive his usual performance fee. He and Heather sang a duet, much to the glee of everyone in the pub.
Later, at about 11:30 in the evening – quite late for uncle and aunt, of course – they walked out the front door of The Abbey Bar to call Talia at home in West Des Moines. Sean, who was behind the bar, asked the good patrons if they would sing to Talia. Sean rang the bell over the bar when John and Heather came back inside with Talia on the phone. Instantly everyone in the bar, and we mean everyone, began singing.
“I can hear everyone singing!’’ Talia said.
Yes, indeed everyone did sing. As a matter of fact, even after Heather and John walked outside to say goodbye to their neice, the gang sang on at The Abbey Bar, declaring that Talia is a jolly good fellow!”
Ireland is a feast for the eyes
Very little has been written here about the scenery we’ve been seeing. Part of the reason is because words could hardly do it justice. Sure, many have tried with varying degrees of success. But the truth is that no matter how gifted a wordsmith someone might be, the images he or she might paint would be impoverished facsimiles.
Monday began with angry rain beating down against our skylights and the cobblestone sidewalks below. Nora, however, promised that by afternoon, the sky would clear. John set out on foot to shoot some sights around Rosscarbery. St. Fatchna’s smiled for his lens. Later, as the sun tumbled down toward the Atlantic, we drove out south of Rosscarbery. We stormed a castle or two, photographically speaking, of course. Then, we plunged our car toward the sea. We ended up on a ramshackle road, and when we dared not drive the car any farther, John hoofed it down toward the sound of the waves. He returned with the rewards for his toil and trouble swallowed up in the belly of his camera.
Plate it again, Sam
Ann Marie Haggarty waited on our tab Saturday at Gossip. She made us feel as welcome as loyal regulars from the moment we walked into the door.
Gossip, as mentioned previously, is a culinary joy. Ms. Haggarty’s wit and good humor made our experience all the more pleasurable.
Gossip’s decor is elegant yet understated. The tables are set not only with both salt and pepper grinders, but also square black plates that serve as a base for other dishes. These plates sparkled and gleamed. This may be due to the fact that they are meticulously buffed. Ann Marie informed us, with a glint in her eye, that touchie-feely customers are sometimes cautioned against touching the fine china.
“I do tell people to keep their paws off the polished plates,’’ she said.
Monday, December 8, 2008
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