May showers have been pouring down for most of the day – it is
even more incredibly green while everything is so wet. This morning when we headed off, after our
ungodly early 0600 get up to attend the 0700 breakfast for 0730 departure (I
feel like a letter in despatch!) I searched the small enclosures; structures of
200 year old and older rock wall fences, which hold in the sheep, cows and
horses, for sheep, and I saw none. I am
growing very fond of sheep. They dot the
green fields providing perspective and dimension to the country side, as well
as to gardens in some small towns. For those of you who I annoyed with the FB
castle lunch photo the other day, please note that my dinner/lunch was not that
great. Don’t get me wrong. The dishes were finest solid china. The silverware – was, and it was very
heavy. Each of the three courses came
with drama and flourish as one would expect of a castle. “Unplated” by a white gloved server which
means each main course plate was covered in a silver hood that was grandly
removed in front of each guest at the table of four at which we were
seated. (I have a nice photo of myself
reflected in that fine lid) We made our
choices from an artistically created menu with items such as tartar, de jour
and crème de la crème. Where I went
wrong was at that menu. It was with
great relish and excitement that all at the table determined the “spring lamb”
would be a wonderful choice a traditional Irish feast! I pondered much like I do at a cliff’s edge
and took the plunge. The meat was
exposed as that fine sliver tombstone was taken away! I hesitated but cut a wee bit off and
tasted. I had put my mind in the place I
go when I enjoy fowl. I love birds all
ways – alive and cooked. Lamb
however. My poor tummy churned and
turned. This was someone’s baby. I focused on the rest of the meal which on
this visit has most often included two types of potatoes! Yes. I also had plenty of room for the fine
carrots, green beans and to finish a lovely dessert trio decorated with a spectacular
melted sugar creation. As wise old
gentleman told me once “It’s not like you can’t stand to miss a meal or two!”
Sheep and their babies.
I am enjoying Ireland.
Photos have now reached 16GB. Moving about and keeping on track has become
a 16 hour a day occupation – and we are now off again so there is no time to organize
or upload.
One final story: I
was bent down beside a rack of postcards (in the mail) making choices. Suddenly I felt a tap on my shoulder and I swiftly
twisted and poised to reprimand my kind husband who likes to “herd” me along. Over top of my glasses my eyes met those of
the tour guide, an older man who, at times, reminds me of a former school principal.
