Tag: travel

Thief with a Conscience

I am on a road trip from our home in Florida to our son's home in Texas. Studly Doright called me yesterday to say someone using my American Express card has been buying stuff all over the world including plane tickets to exotic destinations and a pinball machine.

This morning he called to ask if I'd just made a sizable donation to Doctors Without Borders. While I hadn't, I applauded the thief's social conscience. I just wish he/she had waited for a more convenient time to steal my card. Like never.


Irrelevant picture of an alligator.

The Artful Dodger

Yesterday I drove across Florida, Alabama, Mississippi, and Louisiana, on my way to see my son and his family in Dallas. More than once I encountered torrential thunderstorms that reduced visibility to less than a handspan.

My knuckles are still bone white from holding the steering wheel in a death grip. At least most of my fellow travelers kept their speed in check; although, occasionally a hotshot would come barreling willy nilly through the downpour as if the roads were dry and the sun shining fiercely. I'd have flipped them the bird if I hadn't feared taking my hand off the wheel.

In addition to dodging the aforementioned would-be NASCAR drivers, I also had to avoid an odd variety of other objects, including, but not limited to the following:

1) a blue and orange striped beach chair
2) one canvas bag approximately three feet long.
3) an infant car seat (no baby, thank goodness!)
4) a tennis shoe

But the best thing I had to dodge was a large alligator. He was dead, thank goodness, but still gave me a fright as I saw him just in the nick of time. Apparently some other driver wasn't as fortunate as I'd been.

Hopefully today, as I head north and west away from the coast, the weather won't be as crazy, the drivers less aggressive, and the gators safely in their proper habitats. I'm tired of being the artful dodger.

Peace, people!

An Uncommon Memorial

When we toured the Ring of Kerry in County Kerry, Ireland, our bus driver pointed out a lovely church and told us it was the only Catholic Church in all of Ireland to bear the name of a person who was neither Saint, nor deity. 


This church in Cahersiveen, was named with special papal permission, after the statesman Daniel O’Connell, a lay person, who worked for Catholic emancipation in Ireland in the 17th and 18th century.


According to Wikipedia, “Daniel O’Connell (Irish: Dónall Ó Conaill; 6 August 1775 – 15 May 1847), often referred to as The Liberator[1] or The Emancipator,[2] was an Irish political leader in the first half of the 19th century. He campaigned for Catholic emancipation—including the right for Catholics to sit in the Westminster Parliament, denied for over 100 years—and repeal of the Act of Union which combined Great Britain and Ireland.”

Unfortunately, we only were able to drive by the church without going inside. More and more I’m realizing how much I need to return to Ireland. It’s almost as if I only purchased postcards without savoring the experience. 

Peace, people. 

Don’t Go Chasing Waterfalls

Don’t go chasing waterfalls, unless they’re in Killarney National Forest, then go for it!

Snapshot #198

Four years ago when our group of intrepid golfers and their spouses visited Scotland several of us became enamored of a dessert called Sticky Toffee Pudding. I remember enjoying it after almost every meal, then promptly forgetting about it once we were back stateside.

To our delight, sticky toffee pudding was served at many restaurants in Ireland, and I quickly renewed my acquaintance with this fabulous food. I thought I’d left it far behind after our vacation, but while shopping at Whole Foods in Tallahassee today, I came across a surprise in the beer aisle.

I’m calling this picture, “I Haven’t Tried This Brew, but Some Flavors Shouldn’t be Found in Ale Form.” If any of you have tried this ale and lived to tell about it, let me know.

Snapshot #197

We encountered some friendly motorcyclists when our coach driver stopped to allow us to take photos on the Dingle Peninsula. These gentlemen were from England. I’ll call this, “Watch for Motorcycles.” I’m sure my motorcycling friends will know what bikes the guys were riding.

Snapshot #196

The Dingle Peninsula in County Kerry, Ireland, provided epic scenery around every turn in the road. And there were MANY turns in the road. 

Let’s call this one, “Let Sleeping Giants Lie.” Do you see him?

The Sounds of Making Plans

The Sounds of Making Plans

By Leslie Noyes

Percolating pensiveness, a dollop here, a shuffling of papers there. Tap typing a google search for some

Place warm, but not too hot. A clattering through a drawer of pens and pencils, finding one with ink or another with

Sharpened lead, or sighing in frustration and tossing the whole lot clutter bang in the garbage bin then wondering

If the recycling box is more appropriate for this detritus. A nose wrinkling search through mushy mulch reveals the remains of 

Coffee grounds and last night’s leftover pizza among discarded writing implements in the bowels of the trash. 

Dropped lid, startled cats. Swishing of soapy hands under running water, ripping strip of paper towel to dry. Sliding out 

Boxes of atlases and crinkled yellow maps. Exclaiming over destinations visited; sighing over those that might never be. 

The Gaelic Muse

The Gaelic Muse

This lovely statue in Killarney pays tribute to the poets of County Kerry. I discovered it just a block from the Malton Hotel and asked the muse for a bit of inspiration. I’m a patient lass, but any time now would be good. 

Wouldn’t you love to know why Pierce Ferriter was hanged? Well, I looked him up on Google:

“Piaras Feiritear, better known via the Anglicized name Pierce Ferriter, was an Irish poet who also served as an officer during the War of the Irish Confederacy, 1641 – 1652. Piaras may have been born about the year 1600, the son of Eamon Feiritear, (Edmond Ferriter)a landowner whose lands on the far western part of the Dingle Peninsula had been the Ferriter family’s homestead for about 350 years when Pierce was born.

Much of what is known or surmised regarding Pierce Ferriter the man extends from his surviving poetry. His use of the Irish language, themes, and imagery indicates that he was a man of education, and probably well taught in both English and Irish. By account he was a harpist as well as a poet. The surviving body of work represents some of the finest Irish language poetry of his era.

Less is known of his personal life. Evidence exists that he was married and from this marriage, there is known to have been children: two sons and a daughter, Dominick, Richard, and Helen. We also know that Piaras was friendly with both the nearby family of the Knight of Kerry, who were Geraldines, and the more distant FitzMaurice family – also a Geraldine line. From the Lord of Kerry (FitzMaurice) he was favored with a commission to raise an armed company from his lands and neighborhood on the Dingle Peninsula. Pierce’s arming and leading of the local citizens was to be in support of the English Crown however, rather than going to war with the Kerry Catholics, he aligned himself with the anti-English forces, and brought his men to join in the siege of Tralee in 1641.

During the siege of Tralee Peirce was wounded, and his active involvement in the fighting after the fall of Tralee is uncertain. With the fall of Ross Castle in 1652, the war in Kerry was lost, and other defeats brought the war to an end in the rest of Ireland as well. Pierce Ferriter’s sons Dominick and Richard left Ireland as “Wild Geese” under agreements made by Lord Muskerry. Pierce remained at large for almost a year, and many of the folk tales and legends surrounding his abilities as a warrior emerge from this interval. At last, in 1653, Pierce Ferriter was brought in to Ross Castle under an assurance of safety.

After an unsuccessful parley was Pierce began his journey from Killarney homeward. Somewhere near Castledrum, he was apprehended by men dispatched by the erstwhile negotiator, Colonel Nelson, and brought back as prisoner. Pursuant to a trial of which no record remains, Piaras Ferriter was hanged, presumably for having been a rebel.”

I tried to find a sample of his poetry, but came up empty handed. I’ll keep looking.

Peace, people!

Favorite Photos from Ireland

I took so many photos, but some of these are my favorites from the trip to Ireland.

From the Cliffs of Moher:


From the grounds at Doonbeg:


At Saint Mary’s Cathedral in Killarney:

Random stuff:


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