My blog from Ireland was abruptly halted when Dad's computer decided it couldn't cut and paste anymore, so I didn't get to send anything else out. I'm only catching up now, so here is another excerpt below.  I wrote this after my visit to the Legananny Dolmen.

A Blog from Northern Ireland

Yesterday on Facebook I joked about time-traveling when I visited a 2,000 year-old monolithic portal tomb in Northern Ireland. How could I have known I actually would transport through time – well, for a brief few minutes, anyway. Getting ready to leave Dad’s house in Robin Hill for the Legananny Dolmen, I found my purse too heavy with coins, so I separated the US coinage from my British, and found an old purse of Mum’s in the spare bedroom closet to put it in. Since her death in 2003, I still find random items of hers that had been overlooked. Inside the purse I found a few sheets of paper, tightly folded to fit. Recognizing my mother’s writing, I discovered this to be an excerpt from a diary apparently written over 15 years ago when she first visited me in the States. I wanted to inhale the words at once, my eyes already scanning over the page. But I force myself to stop. I’d keep them for later, when I had time and privacy to enjoy it properly. Tucking the purse into my bedside drawer, I smiled at how many times I’d read something like this in books, and always scoff when the person hid their letter, or whatever found treasure, to read later. Not me, I’d thought. I’d never have the patience.

But I did! All day long I kept getting a little thrill in my heart at the thought of the secret pages waiting for me at Robin Hill. When the day finally came to a close and I’d tucked myself into bed, I withdrew the purse from the drawer. Carefully, I extracted the pages and smoothed them across my lap. I found myself instantly transported back to my first summer in Oregon. Mum wrote that she had enjoyed her visit very much. She’d listed all the places we’d gone, restaurants we’d frequented, and jotted down one-word comments, describing her impressions. I vividly remembered how diligently I’d planned their trip and how important it had been to me they had a great vacation. I had fallen in love with Oregon, and I wanted them to as well. Mum’s diary plainly showed that they had had a truly marvelous time, and were happy that I had taken so well to my chosen country.

Seeing her witty and sometimes irreverent notes, I remembered her laugh, the way she poked fun at life. A reference in the diary to star-gazing reminded me how one night I’d proudly set up my new telescope for them, as Mars was reputed to be clearly visible that month. Mum had laughed until tears fell; it turned out the broiling, volcanic orb we saw through the lens was actually a street lamp.

Last night in Robin Hill I slept better than I have in a long time. It felt as though Mum had reached through time and space to remind me to take joy in just being alive. It doesn’t matter that the good times may be as fleeting as those precious few notes in her diary. The years since her death have been difficult, but today I felt a renewed sense of purpose and hope. And all because she had tucked a few pages away to be forgotten until I found them 15 years later. We may never know the effect our words have when others read them. But we have to hope that they might bring someone a moment of peace and clarity, as my mother’s words brought to me last night.

Scott and I spent our last day having lunch and shopping in the town of Ballynahinch, County Down.  As we approached The Primrose Bar, (my local when I lived here), we passed the Funeral Directors who conducted my mother's funeral.  I recognized one of the men who carried the coffin... he stood inside the glass front door using a saw to remove the door handle.  We smiled hello and I paused to call, "You're supposed to do that on the other side to break in!"  We laughed and Scott and I walked on.  I took a moment to reflect how time, if not  actually heals all wounds, it does made them easier.  A year and a half ago, I never could imagine I'd be joking with the town undertaker.  He was so solemn, intimidating and downright creepy in his top hat, tails and umbrella at the funeral.

I really must tell you about my historic visit to the River Ness by Inverness.  The night before we had dinner at my brother's.  He produced some delicious port and that, as they say, was that.  I don't remember much of the rest of the evening, but I'm told I had a really good time!  Anyway, the next morning I had the worst hangover I've ever had - even worse than the ginger wine episode.  Nevertheless, Scott and I headed out to see the local sights.  Already queasy, the humid, sticky day coupled with a very twisty road made me feel horribly nauseous.  With a screech of tires I pulled into a layby and thrust myself from the car.  Making it to the verge just in time I hurled violently.  Being a projectile vomiter, the nasty substance arced through the air and plunged toward the river.  This would be just fine except for the tourist
boat chuntering by just as I deposited my offering.  Horrified faces gaped as vomit splattered over them, and a flurry of flashes went off as the Japanese contingency decided to catch the Kodak moment for posterity.

Embarrassed beyond measure I turned away only to be hit by another wave of nausea.  This time I aimed away from the river, trying to avoid Scott and the car.  Unfortunately, most laybys along the river and around Loch Ness are populated with Scottish bagpipers, who play and pose (for money) with tourists.  It was a very unlucky piper who approached me to see if I was all right.  I'll leave the rest to your imagination, but let's say the poor man required an immediate bath and a dry cleaner.  Not to mention an industrial strength pipe cleaner! ;-)

As ramblin_phyl posted earlier... to hell with the editing - she has men in tight jeans in her back yard!  So I just had to drive up the mountain to see for myself.  Put the binoculars down, Phyl! ;-)  

We had a great lunch, catching up and brainstorming.

Critical mass, huh?  LOL

Hello m'friends,

Beware someone called moska_6 adding you as a friend.  Did they me on Saturday, and when I went to view their profile, (because I didn't know them), a virus entered my computer and pretty much messed it up.  I sent a note to LiveJournal, who have promptly suspended the user.  I ended up having to restore my computer back 24 hours to clear everything up.  (Oh, that we had the capability to do that ourselves!)