Scenes from Old Head Golf Club

Studly Doright and his golf buddies played the beautiful course at Old Head on Sunday, not far from where the Lusitania was sunk off the coast of Ireland in 1915, having been torpedoed by  German forces. 

The course, according to Studly, featured an abundance of hazards and a flair for the dramatic. All along the fairways signs advised players to abandon any balls that fell too close to the cliffs lest players find themselves tumbling down the rocks into the Atlantic. I’m pleased to report that all eight men returned safely to the clubhouse. 

Lighthouse at Old Head


That’s Studly bringing up the rear. He shot an 81 on this challenging course.


We call ourselves Eight Mire Mná which roughly translates to Eight Great Women.

Sipping Smithwick’s at Old Head

Another fine Irish brew, Smithwick’s, or “Smitticks,” as the locals say, was my pick on the fourth day of our trip. This pint was touted as being the finest in the land by the waiter who took my order. I impressed him with my spot on pronunciation, and told him that beer had become my second language.

Here’s to your health!


A fitting toast for today:

I drink to your health when I’m with you,

I drink to your health when I’m alone,

I drink to your health so often,

I’m starting to worry about my own!

Cheers, y’all!

On the Road to Dingle

Yesterday we dropped the golfers off at Tralee Golf Club and then five of us non-golfers went on a scenic drive to Dromore Point, the westernmost point in Europe, with a stop in the fishing village of Dingle.

It was like driving through heaven.


My photos take forever to upload here, so these will have to suffice for now.

From left: Susan, Geneva, Me, Sheila, Rachel

Pour Me Another

On the third day, let there be Murphy’s! 


I thoroughly enjoyed this beer. It’s got a bit of a sweet taste compared to Guinness, and went down velvety smooth. 

And we toast:

Here’s to a long life and a merry one.

A quick death and an easy one.

A pretty girl and an honest one.

A cold pint– and another one!

Another Day…

Another day, another beer! 

After a day of riding a tour bus and touring the Muckross House near Killarney, several of us found a small pub and enjoyed a locally brewed beer. I had the Killarney pilsner. It was lip-smacking good!


Here’s another Irish toast befitting the occasion:

Irish Quotes

I wish you health, I wish you well, and happiness galore. 

I wish you luck for you and friends; what could I wish you more? 

May your joys be as deep as the oceans, your troubles as light as its foam. 

And may you find, sweet peace of mind, where ever you may roam.

Peace from Killarney, County Kerry, Ireland.

When in Ireland…

When in Ireland, do as the Irish do!


I’m operating on three hours of sleep after a long flight, but managed to down a pint or two of Guinness at a highly recommended pub before our room was ready. Maybe I need to relocate to Ireland. 

Here’s an Irish blessing that seemed appropriate for this momentous occasion:

“When we drink, we get drunk. 

When we get drunk, we fall asleep. 

When we fall asleep, we commit no sin. 

When we commit no sin, we go to heaven. 

So, let’s all get drunk, and go to heaven!”

Travel Games You Cannot Play on an Airplane 

One cannot play the alphabet game, the signs are too far below,

And the license plate game is likewise moot, no cars zip to and fro.

One could play the I Spy game, at least a round or two

Until it’s apparent that the objects in view are limited to just a few.

Name That Tune is out, ’cause other passengers aren’t amused,

When you sing an off key Yellow Submarine and they all feel abused.

So I’ll twiddle my thumbs and wiggle my ears the better to pass the time

Or maybe I’ll write silly poems, some may even rhyme.

A Long Way, Baby

I’ve come a long way, baby,
Still got a long way to go.
Every time I think I’m there,
I find myself laid low

Try to rise above the hate,
Ignore the arrows and slings.
They go low, I try going high,
But, damn, their insults sting.

These days of alternate truths,
Lies, if truth be told,
Just wear me out in spirit,
Got me feeling old

But I have come a long way
And I’ll keep traveling on
The road often will be rough
And I’ve got skills to hone.

Souvenirs from Universal Studios, Orlando

Studly Doright and I were in Orlando, Florida, on Monday and Tuesday this week, prior to flying to Shannon, Ireland, on Wednesday. He had meetings to attend, while I had some time on my hands. Monday I treated myself with a trip to one of the outlet malls, but on Tuesday I decided it was high time I visited The Wizarding World of Harry Potter at Universal Studios. 


I walked all the way back to where the map indicated Harry Potter’s world would be. I saw the bus, and I  took a selfie in front of #12 Privet Drive, but I was confused. Where was Diagon Alley? I walked all the way around the area, but was stymied. Was this all there was? 

I’m such a Muggle, but on a hunch I walked through a nondescript opening in an unmarked brick wall, and voila! 


Diagon Alley! Honest, one can’t see this opening from the area where the triple decker knight bus and Privet Drive are, even though they’re just a few feet away. How wonderfully magical to be forced to stumble onto it! 





Butter beer is pretty damned tasty; although, there’s no actual beer in it. Drat. 


I ogled the newest Firebolt model:


By far the longest line in Diagon Alley was formed outside the wand store. I spoke with a little girl who was still giddy that the wand she purchased had chosen her. I was tempted to join the queue, but I’ll wait until I can bring my grandkids. And a wand in my hands might not be a good idea. I solemnly swear that I’m up to no good. 

So, what were my souvenirs? 

A pair of scraped palms, and a skinned knee.


I fell, having failed to realize that the curb was about five inches higher than my bifocal lenses led me to believe. Fortunately a couple of young men rushed to my aid, and helped me to my feet. The part that’s the most injured is my pride. It could’ve been much worse, so I’ll take my lumps as a renewed call for caution.