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Horse and rider on Kilkee Beach in the evening. Photo by Eoin.
Well, we had a bit of a scare, which also turned out to be an embarrassing experience. It all started with a horse galloping on the beach one evening. Eoin and I had just parked on the strand along the beach, on our way to Maud’s Ice Cream Shop for an after dinner treat. As we got out of the car we saw a beautiful horse being ridden back and forth along the shoreline of Kilkee Beach. Of course, we had to stop and behold such a wonderful sight! I took the camera out of my purse and handed it to Eoin and he ran down to the beach to snap a few photos. Finally, the horse and rider left the beach and Eoin and I headed for Maud’s where he chose a strawberry ice cream cone topped with tiny marshmallows and I, a small scoop of the house concoction that consists of vanilla ice cream, caramel and Nutella. Ice cream in hand, we decided to take the long route back to the car and walked down the main street – stopping to laugh at a couple dozen birds maneuvering for their night-time resting spots at the top of the AIB (bank) building, and then continued on back to the strand and up to the car.
It was getting pretty cold and I was in a bit of a hurry to get into the car and head home but was not happy when I spotted the car with what appeared to be a ticket under the windshield wiper. Annoyed and wondering what obscure traffic law I had violated I reached for my keys to unlock the door so we could get out of the spot. That is when I realized my keys were not in my purse pocket where I always keep them! It was late evening and all my keys, those to the cottage as well as the car keys were nowhere to be found in my purse. Panic set in immediately!
The first thing I had to do was go to the only shop we had stopped in, Maude’s. Tired 8-year-old in tow, we made our way to Maude’s in hope that this situation would quickly be resolved. However, after rushing into the shop asking about my keys the owner of the shop and the girl working there shook their heads saying they hadn’t seen any keys. Feeling sheer panic I fretted about how I was going to get keys from the car rental company at 9:30 pm in a town in the far west of Clare, and how I would manage to get into the cottage once I made it back there. The ice cream shop owner looked up the phone number for the Garda for me and then went outside to ask the few people gathered at the front of the shop eating their ice cream. These people came inside to talk to me and assure me everything would be alright. A young man there told me he had served me earlier in the day at the Diamond Rocks Cafe and said he would keep an eye out for my keys. A middle-aged couple offered to bring me back to their house to get the Golden Pages so we could look up the number to the car rental company and for a locksmith if needed. As I left with them the ice cream shop owner took my phone number so he could contact me if he heard anything and also asked that I let him know if I found the keys.
On the way to the couple’s home, which was just a few doors down the street, the man suggested we go back to check the car one more time before making any calls, so we headed down a small lane that brought us back to my car. Just as I had said, the doors were locked and the keys were nowhere in sight. Finally, the man walked to the front of the car and saw the ticket under my front windshield wiper. However, when he said, “This looks like a note”… I suddenly realized that in my panic I had failed to consider that the “ticket” on my car may have been a note! Sure enough, there in the man’s hand was an envelope with a note stating, “Your keys are at O’Mara’s Pub.” That is when the embarrassment set in… I had involved all these nice people in my little drama and it all could have been avoided if I had just stopped to take a look at the paper on my windshield! When I said this to the man holding the note he replied, “You just panicked a bit, there’s nothing to be embarrassed about.” I thanked him for his help and headed to O’Mara’s where a sweet elderly couple told me they had found my keys sitting on the wall along the beach – right where I had stopped to watch that beautiful horse galloping… right where I set my purse – and apparently my keys – down to get the camera for Eoin. In my usual way, I felt the need to explain the ordeal to the couple who found my keys and told them how I had involved so many people in the search simply because I hadn’t looked at the note on my car. They were very nice of course and the lady smiled and remarked that she remembered passing me earlier on the footpath and that we said “hi” to each other. Next I went back to the ice cream shop, as I had promised to do if I found the keys. Again, I thanked the shop owner for his help and when I mentioned how embarrassed I was for involving so many people, he said, “Sure isn’t that what a community is for?”
After telling this long story to Anton on the phone later that night, he laughed and said, “Mom, it’s good to know you’re the same person in Ireland as you are here!” Well, that might be so, but I prefer to blame it on the horse.
Doesn’t Curious George look content gazing through Eoin’s Rose Cottage bedroom window? He should be feeling content, after all he’s enjoying a lovely view! By the angle of his head, I’m guessing that he may be focused on the rustic sight of the outbuilding at the front of the property… perhaps making a game of guessing what we might find inside that little building, after the big brush clean up. If George was able to turn his head to the right, he would have the pleasure of looking out toward the wooden fence that separates the property from the road. Beyond that, is a vast expanse of countryside consisting of bog and farmland, that spreads out at a slight incline. Toward the right on a small hill, a house is visible, its lights already having served as a comfort to us, on pitch black Lisheen nights. Beyond that house at quite a distance is another hill. One morning my very excited 7-year-old came running to tell us about a herd of animals he spotted grazing on that hill. The distance and our untrained eyes kept us from being able to figure out whether the creatures were cattle or sheep. But not to worry… because the previous owner not only foresaw our need for a tea kettle, he provided us with a handy pair of binoculars… much to my son’s delight! Binoculars in hand Eoin determined the creatures to be cattle. This sight of grazing dots with legs became a daily fixture in the landscape… just as the binoculars were a constant presence hanging by a strap around my son’s little neck throughout our stay.
As much as the cottage was a physical manifestation of my idea of what a cottage in West Clare should be, it was the surrounding countryside and views from the house that sold me on this particular place. As I’ve described the view from the front of the cottage, the view from the back is equally lovely. Since the cottage is on high ground, from the back windows we look out on a decline across a great expanse of land leading down to where the main road lies and beyond… and if we look a bit toward the left, a two room school house is visible just a couple miles from our little cottage. And though we can’t see it from where we are situated, it is an added bonus just knowing that the rocky, Atlantic coastline is just a few miles away in the distance!
An element of the landscape we had not anticipated though, is the sky. The open, and for the most part, treeless expanse of land, combined with the vibrant and ever changing Irish sky, which seems closer to the ground than the Midwestern American sky, is a sight I’m not sure I can describe here. I know the photographs we took of spectacular sky performances, came back a disappointment. Like trying to capture fireworks with a camera, it’s just not possible to come even close to the beauty or the energy of the actual experience. All I can say, is that to witness a storm rapidly approaching from the distance is an awesome sight to behold and after the storm passes and the sky is still grey to one side with the dazzling Irish sun approaching from the other, you can almost count on the grand finale of a rainbow.
My young son is a boy obsessed with weather to the point of taking real pleasure in watching the weather channel. So this bedroom window of his, coupled with the binoculars that came with the cottage, seems to be pointing him in a particular direction in life. Either that of an artist or a weatherman!
Outbuilding, a dó
My two sons are accompanying me on a one week trip to the cottage at the end of March. Originally, the plan was for me and my youngest son to go alone, because although my husband cannot get away from work until the summer we felt that somebody really needed to get back there sooner to check on our “little housheen” to make sure things are in order and to attend to a couple of matters we were unable to address during our last, short visit. This would include arranging to have a new, painted red, wooden ‘half door’ built for the cottage as well as the purchase and installation of a few electronic mouse repellent devices, because after all, when the cat’s away – ! However, much to my delight, my oldest son agreed to come along for the trip. Having him along not only provides great company for us and lightens up my burden with the addition of another adult, but it also provides me with a pair of much needed, strong work hands. So, in addition to taking care of a few odds and ends while I’m there, I can also address the ‘brush’ issue.
Knowing back in December that my eldest son, Anton, will be accompanying Eoin and me on this March trip, I had the foresight to prepare a little “Clare Survival Kit” as a Christmas gift to him. The ‘kit’ consisted of only two items, but these are two items he cannot be without on this excursion, and with his size 14 feet, two items we would probably have a lot of trouble locating for him in the little town of Kilkee. So for Christmas my son received two large shoe boxes, one containing a pair of sturdy, warm, Australian sheepskin slippers and the other, a Cabela’s box containing something I’m sure my son would have never in a million years thought he would own… a pair of Wellies! The slippers are a must have for the cold floors of an old cottage. The brown, Wellington boots are a must have for a city slicker prepared to muck about in the bog and do a bit of ‘brush clearing’!
You see, our property contains two… count them, two… stone outbuildings in varying degrees of repair, or disrepair, depending upon how we choose to look at it. I emphasize the number ‘two’ here for future reference, when I one day tell the story of how it would have been only one outbuilding and less property, if not for the diligent work of a couple of Dublin solicitors, nudged along by our persistence. These outbuildings probably once functioned as a shed and perhaps a small barn, maybe for a donkey or a few chickens. The larger of the two stone buildings is toward the rear of the cottage and borders the back of the property. That building is in great need of a roof and it is our hope to one day not only provide it with a roof, but to do the work needed to turn it into a guest room for the comfort of the many people Declan and I hope will come to visit from both the Chicago area and Dublin. The other building is at the front of the property and, though smaller, appears to be in better condition. However, we have been unable to peek inside, or even see a door for that matter, due to the brush, weeds, furze and whatever else has spent years growing around the structure. This is where Anton comes in.
The plan is that my son, all wellied up, will do his best GW Bush imitation and get rid of the brush, so that we can discover what is or is not, within the smaller outbuilding. Now, my son is a hard worker who has continually been employed since he began his first job, at a local coffee shop – Chocolate Moon Espresso Co., the weekend before his 16th birthday. And I have no doubts about his ability to work hard and to get any job done. However, this is a gentleman who has done very little in the way of manual labor during his 27 years and I doubt he has ever had the experience of calluses or even a blister on either of his hands. Now that I think of it, perhaps I should have included a pair of XL heavy duty, work gloves in the Survival Kit…
“When you want something, the Universe conspires to help you.” – Paulo Coelho
“Be careful what you wish for, you may receive it.” – Anonymous
Our recently acquired cozy, little cottage in the bogland of the West of Ireland… in Lisheen, Kilkee, County Clare to be specific… is a testament to the truth of the first quote. The nagging worry I am feeling as I sit before my computer in the Western Suburbs of Chicago… that the water pipes may have burst during the record cold spell Ireland is experiencing at the moment, is a testament to the second quote.
Dia dhuit, hello, from the resident of a misty place between the bitter winter cold of Chicago suburbia and the wild Atlantic coast of West Clare, Ireland!
Blogging from the Bog 