Miscellany
Now, pronounce that properly please. In the States, we would say, MISS-a-lane-ee. Here, one would say Miss-SELL-a-nee. I know this because I had stumbled a bit when Padraic asked me had ever I listened to the RTE (national broadcasting company of Ireland) Sunday morning show, Sunday Miscellany. Once I had it sorted that he had an alternate pronunciation (flows on the tongue a great deal more easily, huh?) he advised me that it was one of his favorites - a show, a bit less than an hour long, that combined poetry, prose reading, amusing and insightful essays, some literary criticism - in general, a show that provokes the mind and the emotions. I have since listened to one or two episodes and plan to make the show a regular feature of my time at home - an additional way to remain connected with Ireland, and connected to one of my most favorite aspects of Ireland - the love for, and the most extraordinary talent in the use of, language.
But Miss-SELL-a-nee also expresses our time of late. We returned from visiting Fr. John on Monday and happily anticipated going out to dinner with the Maddens that night. Darren and Maria, along with Conor and Niamh (remember, her name is pronounced Neev), and Candee and I had a lovely dinner at Torrino's Restaurant in Market Lane, off Bridge Street. Terrific Italian food and a night to observe and enjoy the warm, lively, sometimes gently contentious, interactions of this close and affectionate family. Sides are drawn and and switched depending on the topic. Business issues would generally have Darren and Conor line up against Maria. As Conor, in his second year of business school at the University of Limerick, tries to choose his path and develop a full-grown-man's approach to the business world, he seems to see a world of conflict - and the response to that conflict would be "to the victor belongs the spoils." Maria, having gone through some very scary times during the "Great Recession," perhaps even worrying at times whether they'd be able to hold on to the family hotel, would place great stock in counting on the people around you - a team approach. She clearly credits her long-term and loyal staff with helping them weather the storm. Pawel, one of that group, would easily say that it feels like a family at the Clew Bay Hotel - the affection, but also the occasional squabbles, that any close and honest family might have. When sport, however, is discussed, sides change frequently. The Irish are very committed to the Gaelic sports - hurling and football, and opinions are strongly held and assertively argued. It was great fun to have participated.
After dinner, we headed to The Big Tree Pub to have a pint and to support Ger McGreal as he takes over management of this Westport institution. Ger was a barman for the Maddens for years, and this is his attempt to stride out on his own - to develop the atmosphere of a pub to closely match his vision and personality.
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| Ger. The barman in his element. |
Unfortunately, it was Ger's night off, so we struck out for Blouser's Pub across The Octagon (Westport's town square). We were in luck, and the band Crooked Trad was playing. Darren did me proud (at least that part of me that feels obligated to embarrass my kids) and loudly sang along with the group. Niamh observed that he really didn't know most of the words, but when he did, he made sure to be a beat or two ahead of the band to let everyone know, BY GOD, I know these songs. We parted with hugs and kisses and promised to visit the hotel for coffee again on Monday, the day before we leave Westport. Darren has promised to make inquiries on our behalf concerning properties that might fall within our price requirements (low, believe me). One never knows...
Tuesday and Wednesday were mostly taken up with the many tasks to prepare for our departure next week. Since we leave many items in storage here - clothing appropriate for the Irish summer (read our winter clothes) - things need to be laundered and thoroughly dried before placement in the vacuum-packed storage bags. Various other items that we've added over the years - coffee maker, folding clothes dryer, wine glasses, pint glasses, travel mugs, etc. etc., etc. - have to be cleaned and placed back in the packaging. So, little by little, each day is taken up with some of this drudgery.
We did, however, have a most pleasant evening with our landladies, Carole and Colette. They had invited us over for dinner on Tuesday night and our dinner, drinks and dessert (made by Colette's shy and sweet daughter Ella) stretched out til midnight. Great conversation over a wide range of topics - we are always particularly hungry to learn more about Westport and the many people we "know of" - to understand the history and evolution of the town and the many distinctive personalities we bump into. Carole grew up here and Colette has lived here for over twenty years - well-connected professionals - they gave us info and insight about this terrific little town and its people.
Thursday and Friday were taken up with what's become a tradition - taking in some shows at the Galway International Arts Festival with the Duffys. This year we were most fortunate and got to spend Thursday night at Diarmuid (pronounced Jer-mid) and Lorraine's place in Galway. It was great fun - their kids Sarah and Dara are full of life and I got to put a band-aid on missing my own grandkids in Tampa and Atlanta. The requisite "rough-housing" for which I'm famous and a bit of silly play lightened the heart. The young Duffys have recently moved back from Australia (as I had reported earlier) and they have re-established their presence back at their home in Galway, a sophisticated and active city about an hour and a quarter south of Westport.
Padraic, as always, was commissioned to select the shows, and a fine job he did. Although we were a bit puzzled by the first show we saw - a bit pretentious and verbose perhaps, it suffered, for me, from poor acoustics and strong Aussie accents. The reviews had been excellent, but most folks who we met that had seen the show seemed to share our puzzlement. However, that evening Padraic had chosen wisely and well - some music at Monroe's Live - a big and raucous music venue just off Quay Street and Galway Bay. We took in The Lost Brothers - a duo, two fellas playing stunning acoustic guitars, with harmonies granted by the angels.
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| Listen to some music. Click here. And here. And especially here. |
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| Some of the cleverly crafted diorama |
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| For a New York Times review of the show when it appeared in Manhattan, click here. |
Back to Westport that night and the beginning of the final sorting out of our return. But, there'd certainly be time for a lunch on Saturday at one of our favorite cafes - The Creel. Cream of Broccoli and Blue Cheese Soup with brown bread, and a cappuccino and a lovely piece of cake to complete a fine meal.
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| Lemon and Elderflower cake dressed with fresh blueberries, raspberries, and slivered almonds accompanied by fresh whipped cream. |
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| Larry's playing the trombone. Dead ringer for Louie Armstrong... |