Fear and a Friend

Two meters please!

Hello out there! Yes, I’m still in Ireland. I’m well and hoping you are too. As in the USA, we are all social distancing, avoiding unnecessary shopping, shaking our heads at the bizarre decisions made by world leaders, and staying positive.

Some people are saying they refuse to live in fear. I say fear is a gift from my ancestors who landed on the happy side of natural selection. It was fear that persuaded them to run from rabid mammoths and reconsider their options when they heard a saber-toothed tiger roar in the distance. My ancestors (and yours) were survivors, partly because they lived with a healthy dose of fear.

So I’m proud to say I’m staying away from any threat at this time. I’m being reasonable and considerate. No music sessions, hair appointments, or calling on Dixie’s relatives (all closed anyway).

That said… there’s this lady who landed in Thurles over two weeks ago from Washington State. Yikes! It’s a hotbed, right? When she left Washington, things weren’t so out of control but of course they have deteriorated fast. So Karen has wisely decided not to return home any time soon.

I knew we were kindred spirits when we were first introduced by our mutual friend and Irish fiddle teacher, Theresa. Karen grew up in the south (central Texas) and has a delightful southern drawl. She is one of the most interesting people I’ve ever met. She made a career as a sea captain and is now a maritime professor. She has been on ice breakers in Antarctica and fish factory ships in the Bering Sea. Am I the only person on earth who never knew there were floating fish factories? I’ve obviously been watching the wrong TV shows.

Kilcooley Abbey

Karen knows all the Star Trek series and has read Jane Eyre multiple times. She loves Irish music, plays the fiddle and misses grits. What???

She also has a PhD in Archaeology from Cambridge (That’s NOT Cambridge, Alabama). When I showed her some pix on my phone of some of my favorite megalithic sites in farmer’s fields, I thought she was going to stroke. I’d think we were twins separated at birth except for the Cambridge thing. She's WAY smart.

So now… during this time of isolation and anxiety, I have a new friend. She is staying with Theresa and with us. It feels a little like having Anne Frank in the attic. If the virus comes for her, it will have to go through us first. (Too dramatic?)

Bourodomeany Wedge Tomb

It has thrilled me to no end to take her around to my beloved local isolated ruins. We might come away with the “Black Death” or “Putrid Throat” that's been smoldering for centuries around some tomb effigy, but there’s no trace of Covid-19 or anyone to catch it from. 

We have gone to Kilcooley Abbey (12th century Cistercian), the Bourodomeany wedge tomb (in a remote field in tiny Rearcross), the Shanballyedmond court tomb (also in Rearcross) and Ballynahow Castle (a round, 16th century tower house with spiral stone stairs you can climb all the way to the battlements on top). 

Shanballyedmond Court Tomb

Today we visited Athassel Abbey, a 12th century Augustinian monastery near Golden. We took sandwiches and picnicked on a lichen speckled sarcophagus, watching curious jackdaws flutter along their invisible zip lines. The sun was bright, but the wind was cool and as wild as our imaginations as we contemplated the plight of the poor, forgotten monks. 

Ballynahow Castle

If you’re paying attention, you have picked up on the fact that Dixie was not with us on these excursions. He opted to stay home and catch up on some yard work (and our back garden is looking spectacular). That means… I did the driving (on the left side of these ridiculously narrow roads)!

I have done very little driving in Ireland because Dixie and I are almost always together and it’s just more relaxing for him to drive. But I decided this was a good time to make the transition to the driver’s seat and go for it. 

Athassel Abbey

That fear that I was writing about earlier should have kept me from taking the risk and putting a friend in harm’s way. But Karen’s a sea captain, accustomed to perilous waters and uncertain outcomes. She was all aboard with it.

Picnic at Athassel

Athassel beneath a really cool cloud

When I recalled that FDR said the only thing to fear is fear itself, I ditched the Darwinian ancestor wisdom and charged up the GPS. I’ve been “flyin’ it”, as the Irish say, ever since.

I guess the fear response thing can take you either way… towards life or towards death. Some fears are justified and some are irrational. Some will keep you safe, but others will just keep you paralyed. I’m thinking the survival trait we inherited was just good common sense. I sincerely hope we can invoke it in the days to come.

Keep me posted about what’s happening with you.