On Language and Friendship

I'm getting divorced. So is my wife. We have some friends in common as you would expect after 36 years of marriage. Some of them are more in touch with Janis than with me -- most of them, really. I got this e-mail from one of our friends (the wife of the friend-couple):

Perhaps Janis told you that she has let us know that you would like a divorce. The only explanation she has shared is that you want "emotional intimacy", but not with her. We are looking forward to her visit in January, and extended time talking about anything & everything that she wants to share & offering our support to a dear friend.

This is incredibly confusing...we regard both of you as friends, and don't want to form an opinion of you without first hearing from you, if you would like to share with us what has brought you to this life-changing decision. We will be sharing what we know with our kids on Thursday, and are hopeful we'll be able to present everything fairly about this situation, as you were a couple that they probably held as a model for marriage.

The language this friend used was striking to me. Especially these phrases:

• "don't want to form an opinion of you"
• "sharing what we know with our kids .... present everything fairly"

OK, I admit that it's difficult to hit exactly the right emotional tone in an e-mail, but the tone of this message was challenging rather than supporting. I felt as though I'm on trial and being given a chance to take the stand in my own defense before being judged around the table on Thanksgiving by this family.

Absent from this communication were phrases such as

• "we love you both"
• "there are two sides to every story and we'd love to hear yours"
• "divorce is hard for everyone: how can we support you"
• "this is really none of our business and we certainly aren't going to discuss this with our kids, but we just want to understand your point of view"

So I declined the opportunity to take the stand. Oh, yes, and I unfriended her and put a rule in my inbox to delete future messages from her. There! That'll show her to mess with me! Immature reaction? Probably.

Let them think what they want about me. If who I've been with them during the few years we lived in the same town and now over the past 20 years since haven't given them enough evidence to form an opinion of me, then my words in an e-mail aren't going to help.

Lesson here? It's hard not to take sides. Think about what you're writing before you press "send." Since there are few emotional cues in an e-mail, you have to spell them out in writing -- say what the feelings are -- if you don't want to be misunderstood on an emotional topic.

So taking my own advice: my emotions in this: hurt and angry. Oh, that was obvious from what I wrote? Well sometimes you can communicate your emotions effectively in writing.

Leaving Dingle -- August 15th

The Pax House just east (1 km) of Dingle has been a perfect place to spend our 5 days here. The main two reasons for that are the outstanding service and friendliness of the staff (John O'Farrell, the owner, and the 3 other staff) plus the large lounge with panoramic view of Dingle harbor. This room has been our place to read, blog, e-mail, and chat either during the morning before breakfast or evening or during the frequent rainy periods when it was better to be inside that out.

We arrived in the rain on Wednesday evening and did not venture out into town that night. On Thursday it was cloudy but not rainy and so we ventured into town and explored the shops in the morning and then drove the Slea Head Drive, which is a narrow winding road around the peninsula offering several great vistas of the coast as well as some interesting shops. We woke up to a steady rain on Friday and after breakfast sat in the lounge until 4 in the afternoon when it cleared up enough to go into town. On Saturday we visited Dingle Horseriding and Janis went on the 2-hour ride, which included a visit to the sandy beach in Dingle Harbor where they were allowed to gallop the horses by the surf. (I'm sure this is the highlight of the trip for her.) On Sunday we hiked up to the Eask Tower, which stands at the top of the hill overlooking Dingle Bay, pointing the way to the mouth of the harbor.

Breakfast has been amazing here -- I've tried the Irish Breakfast, boiled eggs (4 minutes -- a bit too done), omelet, and the oatmeal, served with Bailey's Irish Creme. All great. Next time I'll share a bit about the dinners in Dingle.

Dingle -- Arriving August 10

On Wednesday, the 10th, we had another fabulous breakfast at Garnish House. I didn't mention in it the prior post, but the Garnish House sign indicates "gourmet breakfast," and that is no exaggeration. The signature dish is their porridge which comes with a choice of honey, whiskey, or Bailey's Irish cream. I had it with the latter and it was great! I followed it up with eggs (scrambled the first day, poached the second), bacon, and potato waffle.

We drove the 5 miles to Blarney to see the Blarney Castle grounds. The big draw is the Blarney Stone, at the top of the castle, but the castle itself is impressive and grounds are extensive and well-kept. Janis was fascinated with the poison garden and I thought the walk through the Rock Close was very nice. Also not to be missed in Blarney is a great store, Blarney Woolen Mills -- it has everything, and lots of it, besides woolen items. We ate at a pub just across from the store. I had a baked potato (served with "chips" = french fries -- seemed weird, but everything, just about came with chips). Also had a nice pint of Smithwicke's (say 'Smiticks') and Janis, as usual declined brew in favor of wine.

Then we drove to Dingle.

Sounds simple, but there were a couple of complications. First, we decided to stay on the main roads, so that meant driving back through Cork. The main roads are just roads when they go through the city, so that meant lots of traffic. But eventually we got out of Cork and on the way to Tralee, which is the junction you must aim for on the way to Dingle. There were two places where road construction stopped us due to one-way traffic, so we didn't get to Tralee until about 6 -- the end of normal check-in time at our B&B, Pax House in Dingle. But a quick call to the proprietor, John O'Farrell, assured us that our lateness would not be a problem.

It rained on and off all during our trip and quite heavy at times, including between Tralee and Dingle. This was the other complication, as the road became quite narrow in spots, and quite twisty and this combination hit Janis' phobia for rainy driving on curves rather severely. Had there been another brake pedal for her on the passenger side, we would have come to a screeching halt about 58 times.

We eventually made it to Pax House and received a warm, though rainy welcome from John.

As the weather remained wet and we weren't so very hungry, we decided to stay rather than venture out for dinner.

This morning we made it up (our room is downstairs) for breakfast around 9:00 -- the dining room was only half full and so we got our table right away. The breakfast here is similar to that at Garnish house. I'd say the scones were not quite as good as at Garnish House, but otherwise it was about equal. They offer oatmeal with the same choice of 3 toppings, though I didn't try it today. I did have a ham and cheese omelet, which was quite good. While waiting for the main dish, one can choose from various cold cereals, fruit, including poached rhubarb, which we tried.

We spent the morning poking around in the shops in Dingle. Then we got some snacks and started on the "Slea Head Drive," which follows the road, quite close to the coast at several points, with striking vistas and several points to stop along the way to look at the ocean or other points of interest. This drive took us 2 hours, including the stops.

Back at Pax House we're resting before going back into town for dinner.

Dublin to Kilkenney to Cork -- Aug 7-9

Travels in Ireland continue. On Sunday morning (8/7) we took a taxi from the Westin in downtown Dublin to the Hertz rental office about 15 euros away. There was a line (queue) that took 1 full hour to get through. But then I got the car (Nissan Pixo) and a basic map showing how to get from the Hertz office onto the highway leading the right way and off we went.

Honestly, it's weird sitting on the right side of the car, shifting left-handed, and driving on the left side of the road. To complicate matters Ireland does not believe in intersections. Where roads cross there is a "roundabout" or traffic circle. You go around these clockwise, which isn't that hard to remember because everyone else is going that way, too. The hardest thing for me initially was to judge the distance from the left side of the car to the curb. I'm afraid I hit two curbs, one in a roundabout and one in the little town of Thomastown which we had to go through to get to our B&B on Sunday. The second one bent the hub and damaged the hubcap, though it did not cause a flat. We'll be paying for that at the trip's end. We got the super-expensive insurance, but even that does not cover hubs, wheels, and tires. Eventually I've gotten where I can keep the car in the center of the lane. And that is not easy on some of these rural roads because the vegetation grows right up to the road and is trimmed like a hedge. It's like driving in a tunnel with no top, but with vertical green sides. And then the lanes get very narrow and the roads are curvy in a lot of the rural areas, so that going 50 km/h (about 30) is too fast for me and even that slow speed gives Janis queasy stomach in these scary places. Be that as it may, we haven't had any other incidents after the curb crashing and I'm feeling a bit more confident each day.

Our B&B for Sunday night was the Ballyduff House south of Thomastown. We stopped in Thomastown for a late lunch and the cafe-keeper was good enough to give us directions. Following them was harrowing as the road was steep, narrow and twisting and when we got to the place we thought was it, there as a long drive through a gate, and no sign. I expected some kind of sign. But we drove in and sure enough it was the right place.

Ballyduff House is a huge country home that has been in Brede's husband's family for many years. We didn't get to explore the grounds, but we did enjoy the stay. We drove up the horribly twisty, narrow R700 through Thomastown to Kilkenney for dinner. We didn't hit any more curbs or anything else. To make matters worse it was rainy and Janis has a phobia for driving on wet roads, so she was a nervous wreck by the time we got to Kilkenney -- and I was, too. We ate at a pub in Kilkenney and then survived the ride back to Ballyduff House.

Monday morning we drove back to Kilkenney and saw the castle there. Then we struck out for Cork. Driving on the main highways in Ireland is easy. These roads are well-maintained, with wide lanes and everything is well-marked. Driving on the left doesn't seem that weird after a while, especially when the on-coming traffic is across a grassy median. When they're coming right at you on a two lane road and passing on your right side, it takes some getting used to.

So we didn't have any trouble getting to Cork. But once there we did have a bit of an adventure finding our B&B. First of all we only had a street, not a number. Second of all, Cork's streets pre-date the automobile by several hundred years, so some of them are very narrow. We stopped at a gas station and bought a map of the city and asked the counter guy to point out our current location. Then we plotted a course to get from there to the street of our B&B. The main trouble in cities like this is not knowing where you want to go, but knowing where you are at the moment. Street signs do not exist. At least not like we're used to. If a street has a sign, it's going to be on a building on the street at the corner. But don't count on there being one when you need one. But with Janis navigating and me driving, we finally found Western Avenue and started looking for our B&B. We drove slowly down the street looking at each sign and didn't see it. At the end of the block, the street went to one-way opposing us, so we had to turn. We decided to park and walk back looking for it. We finally stopped and asked for directions. Turns out our B&B is in the next block just at the beginning of the one-way section. So we got in the car and drove around the block and pulled into the Garnish House parking area in front of the building.

We were rewarded with a wonderful reception of coffee and scones in the garden. They bake all their own pastries here and do a great job of it. We did a lot of walking around Cork last night, including the beautiful grounds of the University College Cork which is just across the street from The Garnish House.

The pubs don't generally serve food in the evenings, so last night we grabbed some fried chicken and fries before heading over to the Rob Roy pub on Cook Street where there was a session of traditional Irish music at 9:00 or so. I tried one of the two local stouts, Beamish, at the pub and found it very smooth and tasty. (The other one, Murphy's, I had tonight and it as just as good.)

Today we drove down to Kinsale. It was pretty packed with tourists, but still charming. We browsed a few shops and then drove up to Charles Fort and toured the 12 acre grounds of the fort and found it very educational.

Pictures will follow. Or will be posted to Picassa.

Thursday and Friday in Ireland -- August 4-5

We got to Ireland about 10:30 AM Thursday after an overnight flight from Atlanta. Flight, arrival, baggage all went fine. Slept a little on the flight.

We got to our hotel, the Westin Dublin, via bus for 6 euros each. We going to take a taxi, but the bus was right there and went near the hotel and

the driver was helpful pointed the way to the hotel for us. Even though check-in is not officially until 3 and we got there at noon, reception said our room w

as ready and so no problem with us going up.

We really had not choice but to take brief naps before doing anything else. We slept until about 2 and then headed out to explore. The Westin is right downtown, next to Trinity College. We wandered up Grafton street, which is essentially a pedestrian mall. It was packed. From the Starbucks, which is above a clothing store, we people-watched, including the bron

zed "statues" which were actually two actors.

At the end of Grafton street is St. Stephen Green Park, which was packed on this warm, sunny day. We were promised highs in the 60s, but Thursday was in the mid 70s or more. Very nice, and we definitely didn't need a sweater or jacket.

We then took the train to the station I remembered was close to the RDS (Royal Dublin Society, location of the horse show) so that on Friday we'd know where we were going. The station I remembered was the one that was a ways from the grounds so we ended up walking quite a distance and had to ask directions a few times. But we did find it, looked around and then walked back to the station and rode back to town.

Thursday night we ate at O'Neils Pub. Fish and Chips and Smithwicke for me and wine for

Janis.

Today was spent at the horse show. Mostly jumping. The afternoon was entirely taken up with an International Jumping competition between 8 teams (Ireland, England, Germany, USA, Belgium, France, Netherlands, and Denmark). England took first, then England. France and Belgium tied for 3rd and USA took 5th.

Ireland

Janis and I are headed to Ireland tomorrow. We've been planning this trip for some time. We arrive in Dublin Thursday morning and will take the day to acclimate and see some sights. Then on Friday is to the Dublin Horse Show. On Saturday night we have booked a musical pub crawl, starting at Oliver St John Gogartys. On Sunday we rent a car and prepare to drive on the left to Kilkenney.

One night in a B&B in Thomastown, outside Kilkenney, then to Cork for 2 nights. Finally on to Dingle for 5 nights in a beautiful B&B called Pax House.

Our last night will be in Shannon to be near the airport to turn in the car and head home on the 16th.

Stay tuned for pictures and updates.

-- Stuart

Travis McGee, the philosopher

I love this passage from Pale Gray for Guilt by John T. MacDonald

"So they sat, holding hands, and Jan fell asleep.

Puss. gave me a sleepy wink and then she was gone

too. I looked out of the jet at December gray, at

cloud towers reaching up toward us. Tush was gone,

and too many others were gone, and I sought chill

comfort in an analogy of death that has been with

me for years. It doesn't explain or justify. It just

seems to remind me how things are.

Picture a very swift torrent, a river rushing down

between rocky walls: There is a long, shallow bar of

sand and gravel that runs right down the middle of

the river. It is under water. You are born and you

have to stand on that narrow, submerged bar, where

everyone stands. The ones born before you, the ones

older than you, are upriver from you. The younger

ones stand braced on the bar downriver. Arid the

whole long bar is slowly mOving down that river of

time, washing away at the upstream end and building

up downstream.

Your time, the time of all your contemporaries,

schoolmates, your loves and your adversaries, is that

part of the shifting bar on which you stand. Arid it is

crowded at first. You can see ·the way it thins out,

upstream from you. The old ones are washed away

and their bodies go swiftly by, like logs in the current.

Downstream where the younger ones stand

thick, you can see them flounder, lose footing, wash

away. Always there is more room where you stand,

but always the swift water grows deeper, and you

feel the shift of the sand and the gravel under your

feet as the river wears it away. Someone looking for

a safer place can nudge you off balance, and you are

gone. Someone who has stood beside you for a long

time gives a forlorn cry and you reach to catch their

hand, but the fingertips slide away and they are

gone. There are the sounds in the rocky gorge, the

roar of the water, the shifting, gritty sound of sand

and gravel underfoot, the forlorn cries of despair as

the nearby ones, and the ones upstream, are taken

by the current. Some old ones who stand on a good

place, well braced, understanding currllnts and balance,

last a long time. A Churchill, fat cigar atilt,

sourly amused at his own endurance and, in the

end, indifferent to rivers and the rage of waters. Far

downstream from you are the thin, startled cries of

the ones who never got planted, never got set, never

quite understood the message of the torrent.

Tush was gone, and our part of the bar was emptier,

and the jet raced from the sunset behind us to

the night ahead, and beside me slept the two

women, hand in hand, their lashes laying against the

high flesh of their cheeks with a heartbreaking precision,

a childish surrender, an inexpressible vulnerability."