If you can't stand the weather...

It's Sunday but I'm writing about Saturday. I took a nice walk down to Kells Bay and experienced about four different weather patterns. Sunny, cloudy, a bit too warm, a bit too cold, a bit wet from rain. I've taken to never leaving for a walk without a plastic bag for my phone (which is my camera, obviously, and would never leave home without it...

There's a lovely song about the winding way down to Kells Bay — which is not the direction I came from — but it's a good time to post the song, and show some pics of things like fuscia, which lines both of the winding ways to Kells Bay.  

Emma Langford: 

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=_wAyxC-esnw

Fred and I saw her at The Burren (an Irish pub in Somerville, MA) and before she began this song, she announced, "and this song is dedicated to Fred and Karen Lynch."  We about fell off our chairs, slack-jawed and stunned. Brian Lynch had messaged Emma that we'd be there! He knew because I had told him about these tickets I'd bought for Fred for Christmas. So that was special!

Some sweet sights from the way:

A gate along our driveway.

Stunning hydrangeas in colors we don't see at home. 

This is the path to the baby cemetery I've spoken of before. Our friend Brian's father, Pat, is responsible for much of the upkeep and modern touches of this cemetery (as is Brian). I think Pat put this sign up, which makes me a little less sad because — in my opinion, the unbaptized babies here were innocent and not with original sin. ❤️ 

Unfurled fern looks like a heart :)

I spy with my little eye a ginger kitty on a lobstser trap. She moves from there to one of two windowsills all day long — possibly year in and year out. (She was here two years ago doing the same.)

"And the fuschias are blooming so brightly and sweet."

Fred was in his plot drawing and the kids had done the same walk I did, but earlier since I was finishing up yesterday's post. The other Lynches drove to nearby Port Magee — a great spot with lots of Star Wars stuff because one of the movies was shot on Skellig island, right off the coast.  Then the stopped at the Kerry Cliffs. Funny, I just read this: "Kerry Cliffs are widely accepted as the most spectacular cliffs in Kerry."   But then why has nobody ever heard of them, but everyone knows the Cliffs of Moher? 

And this: "The Kerry Cliffs are higher, at 300 metres (1,000 ft), than the Cliffs of Moher which rise to a maximum height of 214 metres (702 ft). They are far less touristy. Many are surprised just how majestic the view is out to the Skelligs and Puffin Island and prefer them to the busier Cliffs of Moher."

And I have to agree!

On my way back, I walked straight past our driveway. Our house can't be seen from the road and I had not accessed it on foot yet... so I kept going to where I knew Fred was walking back from his field. When I got to him I remembered he needs a photo of himself drawing in his field for The Irish Independent. He reached out to this second biggest Irish newspaper, which has a section called The Kerryman, about his project in case they find it interesting. And they do, indeed. They said to send a pic and they'll be in touch. So I snapped a few dozen. Here's one. 

Once back, and having a bite for lunch, the kids and I went downtown to stock up for the party we were throwing. Wine and cheese (and Guinness, of course) with the other Lynches and still MORE Lynches:  Brian and Ann-Marie, the couple we met two years ago. Brian is the cheese maker. FANTASTIC cheese!  Give him a follow:  https://www.instagram.com/kellsbaycheese/?hl=en

We had a lovely time, and Fred gifted them his book, "Visiting the Relatives. Drawing the Past, Place by Place." 

 

After our guests left, we wolfed down some nourishment, kindly provided by Susan, Sean, and family, and headed down to Mike Murtz — the best place for traditional music in town. Instead, we watched soccer, but it was fabulous. Packed with people of all ages. A classic Irish experience, and their last night with us. :(  We didn't take enough pictures, but I'll say that's a sign we were in the moment.

Eamon, who is of age here.

Here's the house, which I did finally find — thanks to Fred.