A couple years ago, we took a wonderful trip to Ireland, and of course, we needed to kiss the Blarney Stone like everyone else even though it is a ridiculous moneymaking tradition. The grounds were beautiful, and we enjoyed our walk to the castle. Like others we’ve toured, it was missing its roof and it had just rained. Wouldn’t you think it would be roped off until the steps dried? No, and no one seemed to worry about that except me. Young and old climbed the slippery spiral staircase made of uneven, rough slabs of granite, while clinging to a large rope for a handrail. At least I was clinging. Every now and then we needed to turn loose of that rope and grab another. It was scary for me. I clutched my new iPad tightly so as not to drop it, with hopes of taking Larry’s picture as he kissed the stone.
Well, we finally made it to the top along with a lot of other people, and I got a good photograph of Larry. When it was my turn, I had to use mind control as I don’t like to lean over anything, let alone backwards. I also noticed that the two men who lowered me over were old. I couldn’t help but think it would be a fine time for one of them to have a heart attack! When they brought me back up, they said I could turn loose of the bar now and take their hands – more than once. I told my fingers to turn loose, but they just wouldn’t get the message. I thought someone was going to have to peel them off. All this while others were waiting their turn.
Then it was time to go down. I turned to the much younger couple behind me and apologized for being so slow. The nice lady said not to worry. She said that while coming up, she kept telling herself that if I could do it, so could she!
I hadn’t realized how much the climbing and wet uneven steps had played on my nerves. When we got to the bottom, Larry said, “I wonder if that couple behind us had every heard those words before.” Thinking of my father’s train of expletives that were stuck in my subconscious, I said, “Oh no, what did I say?” It seems that in my stressed-out condition I had said, “Oh my goodness gracious sakes alive!”
Now what does this blog have to do with gardening or farming? Not a single thing. It has to do with existing. I’m a week and a half into back surgery recovery, and I’m often hurting, bored, emotional, or all three. Besides, I’m addicted to blogging and need a fix! So, thanks for letting me share a memory of better times while I wait to be well enough to go to the farm. I’m certainly missing it and can’t wait to see our corn, potatoes, and gardens even though they will be full of weeds. Oh, and I’ll understand if you think this blog is full of blarney!
The people of Ireland keep their land clean and beautiful. Makes me proud to be mostly Irish!
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