I had to get the calendar out for this one. How can almost 3 months have passed? I was just saying to someone yesterday that I haven't time for the blog because we've been so busy doing stuff.

First things first. The rain continued. We haven't had so much of an Irish summer as a Seattle winter. Which I suppose is not far off from a Juneau summer really. Rarely, if ever, have we crept out of the sixties either. Most recently, however, it's been turning nice.

So, where were we?

We celebrated the fourth of July. Guess what happened? It rained. We bought a disposable, one use barbecue, made burgers, and drank Sam Adams. PK also made a terrific Happy 4th sign for me to come home to. Everyone at work offered me a "Happy Independence Day"; when was the last time someone said that to you? Just guessing, but probably 1976...

We went hurling. That's not to say we suffered reverse peristalsis, but rather we attended the Munster hurling championship between counties Waterford and Limerick. Hurling is an incredibly fast-paced sport which looks like a hybrid of lacrosse and field hockey; one of the traditional Irish sports supported by the Gaelic Athletic Association (GAA). It's important to note that the players are all "amateurs" in as much as they are not compensated for their efforts. They all have day jobs.

I'd have to say that this match was one of the highlights of our time in Eire to date.

My work colleague, Deishe-boy, is an avid fan of sport in general, but GAA in particular, and hurling most especially. He secured tickets for PK and I to come along with his brother (Deishe-bro) to see the beloved Deishe of Waterford take on the villainous Limerick something or others in Thurles, Tipperary.

It was a typical Irish summer day, warmish and sorta sunny for a bit, followed by this curiously soaking mist. PK and I were prepared; Deishe-boy was not. We were in the standing stands at the end of the field (think behind the end zone). No seats for the wicked! The atmosphere was not in the least dampened by the weather though. While there were separate sections for the opposing teams' fans, supporters from both sides were mixed in amongst each other. Good-spirited ribbing and "giving out" abounded, but nothing nasty. (This is one of the great things about the GAA; love of your team is outweighed by love of the sport. Almost.) Flags waving. Chants and cheers. And absolute, unbridled pandemonium when anyone scored: I have never seen anything like it.

Long story short, Waterford thrubbed the villains, earning the Munster crown. The crowd rushed onto the field and went nuts. Epilogue: Limerick beat Waterford in the All-Ireland semi-finals several weeks later. Ahh well.

We went camping with the lads. And the lads' ladies. And brothers. And sisters. Turns out Engaged Lad is from a rather large family. And where we were camping (in the Knockmealdown Mountains outside of Lismore, County Waterford) was not far from that family's homestead in Tipperary. So ma and pa and a few of the young 'uns still in the nest came by. And a few others were already a part of the party.

The rain more or less relented for the weekend. We escaped with only 2 serious downpours. PK and I made breakfast Saturday morning: sausage and "American pancakes". What Europeans know as pancakes you and I would call crepes. Much fanfare and praise followed, of course.


Wood was burned. Beer was drunk. And a cooler was stolen. About 5am Sunday morning, the lads disturbed my slumber to inform us that someone had unzipped the front door to their camper tent, poked in, and nicked off with the cooler with the Sunday breakfast supplies. Unable to fully awaken, I was unable to join in their blood lust; they calmed down and everyone went back to bed with a great, but bizarre, story to tell.


We ate a fancy French dinner. Engaged Lad and Daddy Lad and Musician Lad all had birthdays within 3 days so we celebrated with a big dinner out. 8 courses and a killer hangover. I introduced the lads to Manhattans. And four bottles of wine into it, a little trigger went off and I was suddenly very inebriated. One minute fine, next minute sloppy drunk. An epic night regardless.


We went to Cork. We were planning on spending a Saturday in Cork shopping; but I secretly made arrangements to stay and whisked PK off to town on Friday night. We ate at our favorite Japanese noodle place (Wagamama), stayed at a nice guest house, shopped at the English Market, and generally had a great time. PK was thrilled.

That's July covered. August will have to wait.

Slainte!