So time collapses here....and it is something that can bother you horribly if you don't give yourself over to it. You are a better person - and far more likely to see more --- hear more --- feel more --- if you can allow it.

I told you that I went to hear the dawn chorus the other day. What I didn't tell you is that my father-in-law showed up. Granted...he no longer with us physically, but I have found that the great mystery of life is that no one ever really goes....at least not for me.

So I was at the tail end of the forty or so people that were out on the walk. I was dawdling....taking pictures, looking at things. And I was wet. I had locked myself out of the cottage with no raincoat - and there was a fine off and on mist. I couldn't hear Gordon, and I was trying to take notes. Suddenly a white-haired gentleman in a fishing hat leaned over and whispered, "just go on then....you had better push your way to the front so you can hear what is being said now...." I did. I didn't talk to him again. Later, I was thinking about it, and I thought, "...that was so familiar, why?" Then it hit me. It was just the kind of thing John would have said to me, in just the way he would have said it. Nice.

But. Being married to the oldest Fitzgerald son, and having the pleasure of being in the clan - I see all ten of his brood, and their broods - our collective brood - everywhere I go here. Yesterday I swore that my son Joe sold me my copy of the Irish Times. But no, that was just Robert, who is also nearly 14 and likes rock music rather than Moby (free Moby cd's were being given away with the paper....). And this morning, I swore that Teresa drove right past me on the road. I did a double-take. Mary's twin works at Monk's Pub, and Liam has a clone down in Lisdoonvarna.