The AIARG conference wrapped up yesterday (my solo presentation went well and the audience was enthusiastic).
I stayed over to experience Limerick (again — Dave and I took a brief stop here in 2003 to see the castle).
Experience Limerick I have. The city gets lots and lots of rain. Today started with sun and intermittent but brief showers.
I admired the River Shannon, wandered the Medieval district, and stepped into Mary’s Cathedral for the end of a Sunday service. I enjoy Protestant services because they include women as primary leaders. I need that and I wish the Catholic Church would get with it. When I was six I wanted to be a priest. The Catholic Church wasn’t ready to accept my contribution. I invested my life’s energies in teach through architecture instead of through theology. I find that, like theology, making architecture requires hope, faith, and expressions of truth and beauty.
Leaving Mary’s Cathedral I headed toward Mary’s church. It seems there are redundant versions (Catholic and Protestant) of churches dedicated to many of the same saints here in Limerick. There are many, many fine church buildings here.
Sadly, the Mary Church was not open though it glowed merrily in the sun’s rays. For a minute. Then all Hail broke out.
I continued wandering on King’s Island in the hail until the the wind and pellets conquered me.
Soaked, I turned back to a corner pub. I sit here warming myself and attempting to dry, Bulmer’s and iPhone blog app in hand. They had no hot drinks but hot whiskey! The radio is blasting weather reports. The resounding “I’m a Believer” brightened the sprits of all the men huddled at the bar, and me!
“I Feel Good” is jazzing us up now….
So, I guess Mary has a little of the Irish in her if she directed you to a pub that only serves hot whiskey. Next time, have one for me too!
One was plenty for me….
Let’s say that one was for you!
Having visited my ancestral homeland twice, I am reliving my experiences through you.
Thank you for the trip down memory lane in Limmerick. In Spring of 1969, the rains flooded the cobblestone streets and splashed up my legs as I scurried about. But I went on to Blarney and although no one was around I climbed up to kiss the polished stone – ’twas quite a day! Bobby Kennedy was shot that day and as I made my way back to Dublin, the distrought natives shared the news with me. ‘Twas a sad day indeed! And more happened too. One day I may write a book on that fatefull day.
Question: How did you celebrate my namesake’s day, St. Brigid’s Day?
Glad to hear you’re here reading and enjoying the blog! My great-grandmother was born in Ireland and she was named for this saint as well. Thankfully, St. Bridget is a patron saint if scholars and will hopefully therefore forgive that I spent her entire birthday writing. I didn’t realize I was missing a party!
On second thought, February 1 was Friday, so I did take the day to celebrate. I visited the National Museum, toured Number 29 Georgian House Museum, and strolled the beautiful streets of Dublin. (I wrote all the surrounding days.)