We went to the Tramore forest with our friend Helen and all the dogs. We met Helen about a year ago in this same forest. She was walking her two dogs Erika and Coco Michelle, and Peanut, who lives with her neighbor.
We talked about my trip seeking Sheelas, and Artemis's recent visit to Santa Cruz. We talked about four new indictments. We talked about how well Erika is doing on tramadol and how she doesn't growl at her hips anymore. We talked about those four poor boys who died in a car crash. We talked about how Pippin used to be afraid to jump over the creek, but now he jumps over with everyone. We talked about how pretty the light is. We talked about our friend and how his new hearing aid didn't arrive before his vacation. Then Helen showed Artemis the log that her grandkids pretend is a motorcycle.
"Tramore" means "big beach" in Irish, and there are many
The water you can see directly in front is "New Lake" which is 100 years old. New Lake formed when one end of an estuary
World War I changed Ireland forever. That war brought the threat of conscription, a Home Rule Bill (suspended until war's end), the Easter Rising, and eventually the Irish War of Independence and a treaty that ended that war partitioned Ireland, cutting off Donegal from the rest of the country.
The same shifting dunes that created New Lake also silted up the Dunfanaghy harbor and ended their fishing industry. Dunfanaghy then became a tourist village. People from the North have been coming to Dunfanaghy on their summer holidays for generations, just like people from San Jose come to Santa Cruz.
Locals and tourists walk through the forest to get to the beach which is a mile from the parking lot. There's no way to drive to it. That's the best kind of beach.
Dogs: Peanut, Erika, Pippin, Coco Michelle
Humans: Artemis, Helen
Pippin is still figuring out snow, so he licks it. The first thing we noticed the day we met Helen is that Peanut looks exactly like Pippin.
In the evening I went into the garden of the abandoned house at the end of our street and cut canes for Bridget's crosses. Everyone in Ireland makes them on January 31, and leaves them outside the house for Bridget to bless as she passes over the countryside on her day, Feb 1. I had always celebrated Bridget's Day on Feb 2, but maybe that's because California is 8 hours behind. Last night I left three crosses on the front steps. We had more snow, and the wind blew so fiercely Pippin hid under the bed. In the morning only two crosses remained on the steps. I guess I made one for us, one for Helen, and one for the wind.