Monday, June 9, 2025

When the Circus Came to Town

 On Thursday morning, we had our large backpacks stuffed full of overnight essentials when we walked out the door to catch the bus. We were heading for our once and future village to get the keys, pay the first month's rent, and spend our first night in the cottage. Since we experienced the very late bus issue when we first attempted to go look at the cottage, we opted to take a different route this time--one that didn't involve buses originating in either Galway or Dublin and that were staying closer to the area. Fewer opportunities for roadworks, accidents, or other delays that way, we thought. This did mean that we'd have more time to hang around and wait, but that was OK--it was a pleasant day, there are nice areas to sit, and we brought books to read while we waited. We got to the small town where we used to live and settled in to wait. The bus we were waiting for was one we used to take all the time, but things were different now. The vacant hotel where we used to get the bus was now fully renovated and is no longer the bus stop. Instead, they've built a bus shelter down a short lane at the car park by the water. While we were sitting we saw other Local Link buses come and go. We also saw that the circus had come to town and was setting up in the car park. Our bus was scheduled to leave at 2:10. At 1:30, I started to wonder, because I realized that I hadn't seen the one that was supposed to arrive at 12:30 to drop people off. I walked over to the bus shelter, where a Local Link employee and the driver of another route were conversing. I asked if this was the spot where we should catch the Local Link 966. I was told that the following day, the bus would pick up and drop off in front of the hotel because of the circus. I wondered why he was telling me about the following day, but I simply asked, 'What about today?' I was assured that the bus would be at the very spot where we were standing at 2:10--probably even a few minutes early. You see where this is going. At around 2, we meandered over to the bus shelter where a couple of people were already waiting--elderly women with their shopping. More people showed up. The bus did not. Then we saw it coming. It proceeded to back into the far side of the car park, back up, and turn around, leaving the way it came and leaving us standing at the bus shelter. I left my pack where it was and started walking up the hill to Main St, figuring that if I could catch the driver, I could tell him/her that there were people waiting at the bus shelter. But as I was on my way, I saw the bus drive past. It was gone.

I went back to the shelter and called Local Link, telling them that they'd stranded several people and asking what was up. The very nervous fellow asked me to wait a minute, then came back and read what was clearly a script about how the bus stop location would be changed from midday Thursday through Sunday. I told him that there was no notification of this on the website, nor any signs in the bus shelter itself. Furthermore, I said I was told by two employees that the bus would pick us up at that spot at the regular time and that the driver was in the vicinity and would have seen us waiting before turning around and driving off. He asked if he could call me right back. Needless to say, I was unsurprised when I never heard from him again.

In the meantime, a guy showed up and tried to tell me that the bus hadn't left and it would be coming. I explained to him that it was gone and all the rest of it. He was angry. He called someone he knew to complain and then called Local Link. The woman he spoke to at Local Link told him that they put a notice on Facebook. He told her he wasn't on Facebook. The two elderly ladies got up to peer at the schedules on the shelter. They were waiting for a different bus that had already left from a different location. There was a guy there who called a friend and asked for a ride and he took the two ladies, too, which I though was nice. They were all going the same way. That left 4 of us--me, Bill, the guy who insisted the bus was coming, and a frail looking elderly gent with his shopping. The latter didn't seem to understand what was happening at first and when he realized he would have to find alternate transport was looking in his wallet, presumably to see how much cash he had for a taxi. I called a taxi guy we used to rely on in the past, but he was out of town on another job, so couldn't come. The four of us discussed our destinations and it turned out that the frail gent was to be dropped off on the way to our destination and the other guy, who I will call Bob, was going in the same general direction, not too far out of the way. He suggested we share a cab and he called a taxi driver he knows, named Frank. Frank was available and said he'd be there in 20 minutes. I called the letting agent to say we'd be a little late and he said that was fine because he had to go on the Irish language radio station at 3, so we should just let him know when we arrive. 

Frank showed up and as we were putting our packs into the boot of his car, the same Local Link employee that assured me the bus would be picking us up there at 2:10 rushed up with signs he'd quickly made on notebook paper with a pink highlighter, explaining about the changes. Better late than never. We squeezed into the taxi. Frank started to drive away. Then he asked, 'Didn't you two used to live here in that little place on Main St.? Well, yes indeed we did. I have no recollection of ever speaking to Frank before, but there it is. As we were on our way, Bob and Frank, having known each other for a while, were chatting about people and places they've known. Bob said, 'Hey, remember Peter Something?' Frank said he did and asked where he's living now. 'He's dead,' Bob replied. 'Ah, he's crossed the River Jordan,' said Frank. I was sitting there thinking how strange and yet kind of funny the whole situation was turning out to be (the part about poor Peter Something being dead was not funny, but sitting in the cab the conversation and the situation seemed kind of surreal). The frail gent got dropped off and seemed very happy. A little further down the road, we got dropped off and waved good-bye to our new acquaintances. A couple minutes later, just as I hit send on the message telling the letting agent we were there, he pulled up. We went inside and did what we had to do. It was an unexpected sort of day, but interesting. And we will laugh about it all for some time to come, I expect.

Sunday, June 8, 2025

Chaotic Cottage

 Well, not that it was needed, but yesterday was irrefutable proof that our spring chicken days are long behind us. It's all well and good to laugh about buying 10 new-to-us books at the start of a move, but when hauling boxes, bags, and backpacks full of books down two flights of stairs over and over again, things get real. The yarn was easier--place in bin bags, stand at the top of the stairs, give the bag a push and watch it tumble down. Whether easy or less so, yarn, books, and almost everything else is now residing at the cottage, where all is chaos. I did get the boxes and bags of kitchen stuff into the new kitchen. Most plants are in a windowsill. The rest is in one of the bedrooms waiting to be sorted and put away. There's a little bit left here with us in our soon-to-be-vacated apartment. We'll go back to the new place for a few days in the week ahead to start getting things put away and organized. One bedroom is having a window replaced--not sure exactly when--so I'm trying to keep the area around that clear. I'm looking forward to being there, but we'll have to be here in the apartment for a few days too because we have appointments to attend. But the end of June will bring with it the end of our time in this town. I don't anticipate being back.

In spite of the seemingly endless trips up and down the stairs yesterday, it was a nice day. In between the stairs, loading, and unloading, we had cups of tea and a visit to a bakery/cafe. The time spent with friends made it seem less like work. We shared a lot of laughs. We sat at our large kitchen table and I refilled tea mugs while our friend cut slices of really delicious apple pie. I was reminded of how fortunate I am to live where and how I do and to have wonderful people in my life. 

Nevertheless, by the end of the long day we were wiped out. I dragged myself to bed just after 10 and fell asleep at once. This is extremely rare for me and usually involves being unwell. I woke up at 2:30 feeling disoriented and somewhat confused until I got my bearings--that's more my go-to-sleep time than my waking time. I couldn't fall back to sleep for a couple of hours, but eventually I did. Today we're stiff and feeling some aches and pains, but it feels good to have most of our stuff in the new place. We took today off and tomorrow we'll get some stuff done inside while it lashes down rain outside. 


Friday, June 6, 2025

Willpower? Never Heard of It!

 At least when it comes to books, that is! We went yesterday to get the keys to our new cottage. There was a bit of drama (it was funny, not alarming), which I will tell you all about soon. Because of the bus schedules, we knew we'd be staying overnight there, so we stuffed our large backpacks with overnight essentials and headed out. This morning, with empty backpacks, we caught the bus at 8, got to Letterkenny at 9:15, and filled the time until 11, when the bus back to our apartment left. At 10, the charity shop right by the bus stop opened. We arrived shortly thereafter, since we had the time. Naturally, I was unable to prevent myself (although I didn't really try) from making a beeline to the back of the shop where the bookshelves are located. This charity shop is always asking for books and they sell a lot of them. Probably the low, low price of 5 for €1 has something to do with it! Before I knew it, my hand was reaching out for books and adding them to my growing stack. I handed one to Bill because I knew he liked that author. He found a few more. I was going to leave one on the shelf and get it from the library at a later date--The Spy Coast by Tess Gerritsen. Bill read it and was surprised that he loved it and he keeps telling me he thinks I'll love it, too. He told me I might as well just get it, so, you know, in order to keep the husband happy, I did. 😁 Between the two of us, we walked out with 10 books. You may be thinking, "But you're moving and already have piles of books to shift from one dwelling to another!" You'd be right! But what's 10 more among friends? I came home and packed them right away--except for Not the End of the World by Kate Atkinson. It's her first short story collection. I love Kate Atkinson's work and a short story collection is perfect to be reading while we're in the midst of this move. Luckily for us, a couple of friends are coming tomorrow to help us move things, so we won't have to make a gazillion trips on the bus lugging bags of books. We don't have any furniture to move, so other than the large slow cooker, the books are the heaviest items we're hauling.

We're going to be on the road early tomorrow morning. Tonight we're bringing as much as we can down the two flights of stairs and piling it in a way that doesn't block the door. That will make it easier in the morning. I think we're having a quick cup of coffee first. I'm gonna need it!

Hope you have a great weekend!

Wednesday, June 4, 2025

Ripeness by Sarah Moss

 Ripeness
by Sarah Moss
Published by PanMacmillan/Picador
ISBN 9781529035490

This magnificent book takes readers back and forth in time between rural Italy in the 1960s and rural Ireland in the present day as we read about Edith at different points in her life. Edith is a bookish person who grew up on a farm in England and is excited to have earned a place at Oxford University. Her father and grandmother, with whom she lives on the farm, are supportive even as some of the locals consider her a bit uppity. Her mother comes and goes (for understandable reasons) and is against her going to Oxford without taking a year off first to travel first to Italy, then to France, arguing that this would not only improve her language skills, but also give her a wider experience. She makes arrangements for Edith to stay with some friends in each country. Edith goes along with this plan, which gets derailed when she is sent to a villa to be with her older sister, who is unmarried and pregnant. The sisters are quite different--Edith is into words and books while her sister, Lydia, thinks and responds to things in dance. When the story moves to rural Ireland, we're with the 70-something Edith as she goes about the life she's built there, having moved to Dublin as a married woman and going rural at a later point in her life. The chapters of the book alternate between these two settings and to some extent, two Ediths. It's not that she's completely different, but as with all of us (hopefully) with age comes wisdom, often hard-earned, and we inhabit ourselves differently at different times of our lives. This is illustrated beautifully in this book, both in the characterization of Edith at these points in her life, but also in the structure of the book.

For instance, in the Italian sections, Edith is narrating and uses 'I' a lot. It's clear that she is explaining both the events that occurred and what she felt about them. In the Ireland sections, there's an omniscient narrator telling readers what Edith did, said, and thought about. It was an interesting contrast for me as I read. I felt almost like Edith was observing herself and sharing her observations. It's particularly interesting because of her status as a blow-in to rural Ireland. As she acknowledges, she will never completely fit in, will never truly belong--her interactions are almost all performative in some way. The latter is true for everyone to some degree, but as a blow-in to rural Ireland myself, and having been here for over a decade now, I've had time to see how much more it's the case now for me. I can also say that Sarah Moss captured the dynamics of a village in rural Ireland brilliantly, in my opinion. She was spot-on in her descriptions of the kinds of interactions that occur.

In addition to this being a gripping story, I could relate to so much in the book. Themes of belonging or not, who gets to be part of a community, what it means to be a family, what it means to be an immigrant, gender expectations, generational trauma, finding solace and joy in books, and so much more are woven together throughout this excellent book. I highly recommend it. 5 stars  

This book was recently published, which is why I'm posting this now. I read it back in January and I'm thinking that it's definitely worth a re-read at some point. I thank NetGalley, the publisher, and the author for a DRC.