SAINT PATRICK'S SEMINARY

Saint Patrick - in all his garrish glory.


These snakes are really scared.

I saw signs for an estate sale at Saint Patrick's seminary. I decided I would check it out.
Neighbor Paul needed a ride to Redwood City to drop off his car for repairs. I followed him over there then we had coffee at Peet's then walked through the Farmers' Market. I dropped him off at home but later he wanted to check out the estate sale so I agreed to take him over there.

The estate sale was interesting. It seemed like the sale was winding down a guest house for priests. The house was a three storey building with individual suites of bedroom, sitting room, bathroom. Most of the furniture was a mix of French and Mission Revival. It seemed like all of the bargains were sold on the first day of the sale - yesterday. Isn't that always the way.

I did bump into Síle O'Reilly at the sale. I have great memories of seeing Síle perform with her choir in the chapel of Saint Patrick's. It was good to see her again and chat about her hens and bees.

SANTA CRUZ

Tom and Ellen




I'm still on vacation, though the days are dwindling before I start school again on Monday. I'm making the best of it.
I called Ellen to see if she was not too busy with the new grand-daughter. She said "Come on down".
I drove over the hill in the afternoon. When I arrived Tom suggested a walk on the beach. We drove the short distance to the beach. It was beautiful. I took off my shoes and let my toes go wild in the sand. The sky was clear - no haze or clouds or fog. We walked along the beach closest to the marina. We avoided the part of the beach with the Boardwalk. On the way back Ellen spotted the fins of porpoises playing in the water. There was a harbor seal too hanging out.

Ellen and Tom had been invited to a birthday party of a friend at the Cash Store in Davenport. I tagged along. We drove up the coast to Davenport. At the party there was a live band playing and lots of wine flowing. I met Tom's ex and her husband. They have a house in Mexico, close to Manzanillo, a place that holds fond memories for me. We chatted about Mexico and their travels in France.

We spent about an hour at the party then headed back into Santa Cruz for dinner. We had dinner at an Italian restaurant: Ristoranti Avanti, a family run place that was very comfortable. Tom had forgotten his glasses but the waiter brought him a selection of glasses to try so that he could read the menu. Restaurants are responding to the greying of America in new and subtle ways!

DUBLIN'S PÈRE LACHAISE

I've been meaning to check out the new museum building at Glasnevin Cemetery since it opened two years ago. The building is unusual for a cemetery but Glasnevin is an unusual cemetery. It was founded by the Liberator, Daniel O'Connell after he wrested Catholic Emancipation from the British. Churches and churchyard cemeteries passed into the hands of the established church - the Protestants - during the Reformation. Catholics were limited in where they could bury their dead by the Penal Laws. Catholic Emancipation eliminated the worst aspects of the Penal Laws, allowing for new churches to be built and cemeteries for the city to be opened.

Like Père Lachaise in Paris, everyone who was anyone in Dublin society is buried in Glasnevin. The history of the country - plagues, wars, revolutions - is written on the headstones.

IRISH ICONS

Spit on me, Dickie





Helen was going in to Town to look for an outfit for the Big Wedding. I rode along with her to Jervis Street but she made it clear she wanted to do her own shopping. I walked up to Parnell Square to the Municipal Gallery. I never miss an opportunity to see Francis Bacon's Studio (more than 7000 artifacts arranged exactly as they were in his London studio) and the treasue trove of Impressionist works that Hugh Lane collected for the city.

I walked back down O'Connell Street and cut across the Half Penny Bridge into Temple Bar. I was looking for the Gaelchultúr building but I never found it. Instead, I wandered around until I came to a less-developed part of Temple Bar. On Bedford Lane there are panels by individual artists who are part of a co-operative, The Icon Factory. The panels, as the name suggests, depict icons of Irish social, cultural, and sporting life. Everybody who is anyone (or was anyone) in Ireland in the past 150 years is depicted. There is a funny commentary for most panels that gives some idea of the context of each personality or group. My favorites were the literary panels and the panels on the greats of traditional and popular music. You can bet that Shane MacGowan is up there with the best.

Back on the other side of the river I met up with Helen again for coffee before we went home.

FARMLEIGH

The State Guesthouse

August Bank Holiday means that there is a farmers' market on at Farmleigh. Helen wanted to go so that Timmy would have some time to work on his thesis for his school inspector qualification. We drove over to pick up Aimée and take her with us.

Farmleigh was the former residence of Lord Iveagh, a kind of townhouse set in 75 acres of parkland close to Dublin. The house and grounds were bought by the Irish Government when the Celtic Tiger was still roaring. The Government use the house to board foreign diginitaries, including Mrs. Windsor and her hangers on. Barack could have stayed there too had he spent more than 45 minutes in the country. In fact, he would have found it very comfortable since there are two completely separate suites for men and women - a nod to Muslim potentates like Obama.

We walked around the market enjoying sight and smell of the variety of foods now available in Ireland since the Lace Curtain fell and Ireland opened itself to the world.