The West's Awakeby Cormac MacConnell
- Looking forward to cutting ties to the ties that bind my throttle
- Bishop Eamon Casey served us well, and deserves our prayers
- A lovely tale of island life in the paradise of West Clare
- The Boarding Out orphan was a wonderful pick
- How do the Irish regard their American visitors? With pride
I was at a good wedding last week. It began in a small country chapel, and the celebrant was splendidly merry and friendly while at the same time properly marking the sacramental solemnity of the occasion.
When the bride was making her entrance, for example, he said, "Is she not looking just gorgeous? Let's give her a round of applause.” That set the tone for the service and for the day that followed too.
We may be in a recession, but there was no sign of that on this day. The reception was in an excellent hotel.
Let's all be cruelly honest and admit that we have at least one relative we would break off contact with were it not for the blood bond and clan thing. That is the reality in Ireland anyway, and I bet it is the same over there.
There were so many families with the same surname in the parish that it was common for a man's father and even grandfather's Christian name to be attached to his own Christian name so that people could know immediately who was being spoken about.
That was how Jimjoejoe came to be so called right from childhood. It is a common custom right to this day.
I have a pot of them ripening on the hob now for the Dutch Nation and myself so I have to leave you at once.
I'm in the cottage kitchen with the door open because it is fine outside and a lady butterfly comes dancing in. She flutters around my head for a moment before elegantly fluttering away out into the sunshine again.
Some days in the west are garnished by stray little images like this, matterless things that actually matter. She changes my morning mood infinitely for the better.
From nowhere at all I think of an illuminating line, maybe from Emily Dickinson, about joy and hope being something feathered which perches on the edge of your soul. Like that anyway.