Our two kilometer world

I've been going on lots of walks,
and usually Pippin walks with me. 

Do you want to go for another walk? 

Worst Singer in the World

That's not a field, it's a fen, and it's not an ordinary fen, it's the home of a nesting pair of corncrakes, one of Europe's most endangered birds. 

Here's a recording I was able to get a few weeks after I first posted this. 

And just down the lane from us. Since we can't drive anywhere, we have to find our Irish adventures less than 2 km from home. How lucky can we get? 

To me, a corncrake doesn't sound that much different from a duck. Forty years ago before their populations declined, corncrakes sang to each other all through the summer's nights. Now, hearing just one gives a thrill. 

Birdwatch Ireland writes: 

The kerrx-kerrx sound of the Corncrake has been compared with two cheese-graters rubbed together, producing a sound so monotonous as to qualify the bird as the world's worst singer. This lack in vocal accomplishment is more than compensated for by their dignified operatic deportment as they stand erect with head held high and beak wide open. Corncrake is a misnomer - birds rarely nest in cornfields. Favourite sites are in long grass and amongst tall weeds and damp places.

The birds spend the winter in southeast Africa and arrive in Ireland in March and April. This part of Donegal is a corncrake sanctuary, so farmers are paid not to farm and thereby preserve the nesting areas. As this fen can't be farmed, and any building would just be another obnoxious holiday home, the corncrakes aren't the only winners. 

A corncrake chorus on Boffin Island just before dawn
(July 2012)

An RTE program featuring corncrakes on Tory Island.

How Is Ireland Doing?

How is Ireland doing with the pandemic? The short answer is: similar to California or sensible countries. 


If you would like to know what a government covid update from a sensible country looks like, here you go:

Ireland shut down in mid-March, and people stay home and minimize trips. The hospitals prepared for much worse and Ireland "flattened the curve" and so far the hospitals are coping. 

In the middle of March, the growth rate in the number of new cases stood at around 33%, meaning new cases were rising by a third every day.
This declined over March and April, and now Professor Nolan says that since the beginning of the month, the growth rate of new cases has been "effectively zero" and there has been "no growth in the disease for some weeks now." (RTE)

I read an article in the Guardian in mid-April that describes the Irish government's early actions and compares them to the Boris Johnson's approach in the UK. 

At the time of writing, 365 people have died in Ireland of Covid-19 and 11,329 have died in the UK. Adjusted for population, there have been 7.4 deaths in Ireland for every 100,000 people. In the UK, there have been 17 deaths per 100,000. In other words, people are dying of coronavirus in the UK at more than twice the rate they are dying in Ireland. Yet, despite Ireland being your closest neighbour, this has barely been mentioned in the British press.

In Ireland, we consume a great deal of British media. This means that we’ve been watching, with growing despair and grief, British news reports chronicling a national disaster. But for weeks now, long before the death rate accelerated, we’ve been watching and reading your reports with a queasy feeling. We knew of the measures and plans the Irish government was putting in place to protect us and we knew how far your government was slipping behind. 

When our taoiseach was closing our schools and universities, your prime minister was still telling you to wash your hands. When our government cancelled St Patrick’s Day celebrations, yours allowed the Cheltenham Festival to go ahead and, with it, a potentially massive multi-day super-spreading event of over 250,000 people. The contrast was disorientating. 

Nowhere was the dissonance more marked than on the weekend before St Patrick’s Day. By that point, Ireland had banned indoor gatherings of more than 100 people, but had stopped short of closing the pubs. A video showing revellers in Temple Bar went viral; a public outcry ensued; #closethepubs trended on Irish Twitter; the minister for health commented; and voluntary pub closures began the following morning.
That same weekend, thousands attended a gig in Cardiff. ... 

Technically, the UK went into lockdown before Ireland, on 23 March, but Ireland was already operating a “delay phase” from 12 to 27 March. I would argue that the crucial difference in approach lies in this two-week period from 9 March, when Ireland cancelled St Patrick’s Day, to 23 March, when the UK government finally initiated a lockdown. Because the Irish government moved quickly, we seem to have interrupted our pandemic’s exponential curve at an earlier point. In mid-March, our models forecast 3,000 new coronavirus cases a day by the end of the month. In reality, we had a daily increase of less than 300, one-tenth of that predicted. Our government’s measures worked.

Like everywhere else, all gatherings and festivals are cancelled which means there'll be no Cork Women's Fun Weekend, Tidy Towns competition, or Rose of Tralee. The National Ploughing Championship is probably off too— 300,000 attended last year; it's a big deal. 

The Irish Times provides a current dashboard, and RTE a county-by-county breakdown. There's been more than 400 cases in Donegal. 

On Friday, the leader of Sinn Fein Mary Lou McDonald appeared on the Late, Late Show and described her recent illness and recovery from covid. 

As I mentioned earlier, Ireland is between governments at the moment, and although the two main rival parties have been trying to negotiate a government together, they don't have the votes to close the deal. And they refuse to negotiate with Mary Lou, whose party won just as many votes as they did. I'm thankful that the government is able to function as well as it is, given the disarray. I think this governmental system, with its single parliament and proportional voting might just be better than our own. 

Unemployment is at 22%, and the government is sending out checks to individuals and small businesses. (Not actual checks, because unlike the US, Ireland part of the EU and its modern banking systems. The government deposits money into bank accounts directly, and politicians don't sign "checks.") 

Like Santa Cruz, we live near a beach popular with tourists, and many folks from Belfast and other cities in Northern Ireland have holiday homes here. Over Easter weekend the gardes turned away thousands at the border, but they came in via back roads. 

This video is only available on facebook, but is worth watching for its beautiful views of Donegal, and expression of the typical Irish attitude of those of us in quarantine here. (Includes the f-word.)

Speaking of a functioning government, I saw that they are extending expiring visas for two months, as no one can travel internationally. This may apply to us, when the time comes this summer. 

Until then, we are like you, at home. We're grand. 

Dublin airport. 

Everyone Now Equally Distant

Our new house is up the hill from Helen's. We all thought how much fun we would have borrowing cups of sugar and doing all neighborly things.

Now of course, we are in our separate isolation zones. We hang out every few days, but sitting outside, six feet apart. 




The other day she told us when she first built her house, she noticed that the attic windows of the house we live in now looked into her bedroom. For years, it sort of creeped her out. Now that we live in there, she feels better. 

After she said that, I decided to send her an overt message. 






Except for Helen, we haven't seen any friends in person. Now all my friends seem to be equally distant: Santa Cruz, Boston, London, or Cork. Everyone at home. 

While the Pubs Are Closed in Ireland

The pubs have been closed for nearly a month. Here's Tommy Tiernan reminding us of what happens there. 

Post Boxes of Democracy

Yesterday I walked to the other side of our valley, through a townland called Ballymore. I had never noticed this post box halfway up the hill, though I've driven past it a million times. 

As you can see, there's a decommissioned post box next to the new one.

The older postbox dates from before 1906, because that's Queen Victoria's Royal Cypher embossed with her crown at the top. You can find other post boxes like this all over Ireland, still in use. 

Like everywhere, the post box in Ireland has long been a benevolent point of contact between government and We The People. Despite junk mail, we rely on the practical efficiency of a publically funded national postal system. Both Donald Trump and I rely on it to vote. 

The post box was invented by novelist Anthony Trollope, while working in Ireland for the British postal service in the 1850s. Painted royal red, the British post box symbolized the reach and vigor of the British Empire. 

From An Post History:

A great many old post boxes remain in use today and they bring an elegance to their localities that is often much appreciated. Post boxes, of course, are first and foremost functional and they form a vital part of Post Office infrastructure. Today’s boxes—less ornate than some of their predecessors perhaps—are designed with a firm eye on the efficient and functional operation of the postal business and their presence represents a continuing tradition of faithful service to Irish people. The following extract from a poem puts it well:

I’m standing here quite lonely, on this cold December morn
It’s 60 years or more, since the day that I was born.
And from that very moment, I’ve worked hard for to serve
The people of my village, yes, to all without reserve.

(Courtesy of Tommy O’Brien, The Village Postbox)

Quite apart from their decorative and utilitarian qualities, Irish post boxes have symbolic value too. Before Irish independence post boxes were red but one of the first acts of the new Irish Government was to order that green would be the new colour for Post Office letter boxes. Sometimes a bit of red paint still shows through! The symbols of our past—in the form of crowns and royal insignia—take their place alongside the signs of independence—Saorstát Eireann, P&T and, of course, An Post. 

Because of that symbolic and practical power, the leaders of the Irish Rising of 1916 seized the General Post Office. Today, the GPO is a working post office and a symbol of Irish independence from Britain.

Here's a short film about the GPO and the Rising

In 2016, as part of celebrating The Rising Centenary, An Post designated several Dublin post boxes as "witnesses to history." They painted them red, because they were red when they witness The Rising. The red post boxes displayed a code you could use to download a video to your phone. You can see the video about the post box near the GPO here.

After independence, the new government assured everyone in their everyday ordinary lives that the new government could execute the power of a benevolent and necessary government service. The old state was gone, but the new state would function just as well, from patriotically green post boxes. 

The first act of the new Irish government flexing its independent muscles was not to commission a new Irish design for the post boxes and a programme of replacement. Instead, it ordered that the post boxes be painted green. So: An Irish solution to an Irish problem. It didn’t seem to matter that the boxes also featured the royal cypher symbols—either ER (Edward Rex), GR (George Rex) or more commonly VR (Victoria Regina), complete with a large crown—still clearly visible through the coat of green paint. (Irish Times)

Post boxes in Northern Ireland are red, of course. As part of Rising commemorations in 2016, some Belfast postboxes were painted green.  The path to a united Ireland lies right through these green or red post boxes. Nobody likes it when you mess with beloved patriotic symbols like the post office. 

Today, An Post delivers mail, but just like in the States, it competes with private couriers for packages. The government privatized it years ago, and An Post has attempted diversification, like banking services. But it remains the best at solving the last mile delivery problem that private couriers will always fail at.

For example, a few years ago, when I had to buy a laptop, the UK company would only use a private courier, DHL. I begged them to use the post office, but they said "for security" they required DHL. The DHL guys are independent contractors who can't afford to drive out long lanes with grass down the middle to find a cottage with a name and no postcode. On delivery day, the guy called me: "Can I leave it at the shop in town?" "Uh... sure?" The next day I called in at the shop. 

"Hi, is there a package for me?" "Oh sure, here you are." 

No locked box, no request for my i.d. That's security, privatized.

Last month when we started the move, I waved down our postman and told him we were moving to Marble Hill. I said I'd put in my change of address with An Post. He said "That will cost you. Just change your address with all your people, and I'll tell the other postman you've moved."

Back in the States, we're facing this:

(Link to twitter thread.)

Mail volume has dramatically slowed during the coronavirus crisis due to widespread business closures, and the USPS is bracing for a steep drop in revenue. But its postal workers remain on the front lines of the crisis, handling prescription drug shipments, lab test materials and medical supplies that are crucial to efforts to contain the virus. Mail-in voting has also allowed the democratic process to survive in the era of social distancing. (HuffPo)

Neoliberal ideology vilifies every good government service. In the 1970s Nixon separated the post office from government, followed by the "going postal" meme that destroyed the reputation of all USPS employees. Even our progressive pals at Crooked Media promote a neoliberal scam business, Stamps.com. You can get the same discount, and print your own postage from home directly from the USPS website, but you don't have to pay $20 a month. For some mysterious reason, the post office doesn't have enough money to advertise its advantages over competitors on progressive podcasts. 

Now, in a sane world, the USPS would be treated as a universal public good: Everyone would understand that it provides the bedrock delivery service to poorer and far-flung areas that private carriers won't bother with because doing so isn't profitable. Instead, the Postal Service is expected to compete with the private market, and fund all of its costs out of its own revenue, without subsidies from the rest of government. (How George Bush Broke the Post Office, The Week)

In a sane world, the "Old Post Office" in Washington DC would be a museum and symbol of the dependability and usefulness of democratic government like the Irish GPO.

Instead, its iconic tower and beautiful atrium serve as the Trump International Hotel. 

A Walk in Our New Neighborhood

We had a warm afternoon before a storm came in, so I took a walk on "the middle road" behind our new house. I've driven it a few times before and always thought it would be more interesting to walk instead. It's an old road, and now that everyone is staying home, even safer. 

This post will simply be photos from that walk, and whatever it is that I thought about. 

This house is built from a beautiful local copper-colored stone. It is an old house, but completely new inside. I know this because I looked in the window. It's empty and for rent. 

Just up the hill is a ruined "bawn house." You first see it in behind that modern farmhouse. 

Class: Bawn
Townland: AN FHOTHAIR (TC An Ardaidh)

Description: Faugher House (DG016-024): In 1611, Tirlagh Roe O'Boyle was granted some 2,000 acres in the barony of Kilmacrenan which included, inter alia, the lands of Faugher (Hill 1877, 328; Trench 1945, 96-8). In 1619 O'Boyle is described as having 'built a good bawn and a house of lime and stone in which he with his family dweleth' (Hill 1877, 526). He mortgaged the lands to John Stanton, whose wife is recorded as living there in 1622. The house is described in that year as 'of clay and stone rough cast with lime, 48 ft long, 25 ft broad and 13 ft high . . . Adjoining to this house, there are 3 stone houses and a timber house, thatched' (Simmington 1937, 136; Treadwell 1953-5, 43).

The lands were forfeited by O'Boyle as a result of the 1641 rebellion. They were regranted to Sir John Stephens and were sold by his assignee, Hugh Hamil, to William Wray in 1700; the Wrays had been living there for some 30 years previous (Trench 1945, 94-7). The house was abandoned during the 18th century and is marked as 'Castle Ruins' in Taylor and Skinner (1778, 231).

The remains comprise an irregular five bay three-storey house with attic and entrance at first-floor level set centrally in a rectangular bawn (DG016-024002-), 34.3m x 29.4m internally, which had four corner towers. Sited on a slope, there is a gradual rise in ground level from S to N; this rise is markedly less within the bawn, where some attempt has been made to raise the ground level, particularly on the SE. ...

The bawn is possibly early 17th century in date and is probably that which was erected by O'Boyle. The house (DG016-024) is certainly later than that described in the 1622 report and might well have been built when the Wrays came to reside there in the second half of the 17th century. The nature of this settlement is further reflected in the names of two fields on the S of Faugher House, namely 'the kitchen garden' and 'the orchard'.

Beyond Faugher House is a pretty little valley. Here, the road runs along the ridge behind our house. 

What are those? 

To the east, you can just see our house on the middle left. 

Looking south toward Muckish. 

The name of our townland is "Lower Faugher" or An Fhothair and I just now learned how to pronounce it.  An Fhothair means "a shelf or loft in a hill or mountain." Until I hear differently, I assume it refers to that dark hill just behind the house in that picture. 

Just after I took that picture, I met a woman walking her dog. We chatted about the weather, the passing of Malcom from covid, and how dogs get us our walking every day. She introduced herself and her surname is Stewart. Later that day, when I looked at the 1911 census for our townland, the Stewart family has a dozen members. The Laffertys and Algeos lived here then, and people with those names still run holiday rentals. The Montgomerys also appear that census, and Helen told us that Mrs. Montgomery ran a guest house in our house for a long time.  

The road crests the ridge, then turns west and north toward Sheephaven bay crossing through the Dundrudian townland. Everywhere are fields and rocky hills, punctuated by holiday homes. And sheep. 

Those little white dots are lambs. 

. 

Old Dundrudian

The Middle Road ends at Marble Hill road near The Shandon, the resort hotel. 

Next to the Shandon is a caravan park. I know they can look ugly, but everyone deserves a beach vacation, and not everyone can afford the Shandon. I like the mix of classes in this part of Donegal, and maybe it keeps the rich people from getting notions.

We stopped at the beach for a minute, which I've heard is closed, but there was no sign saying so. It's worth watching to the end of the video. 

Marble Hill Beach usually has dozens of people on it, and it's a great spot for teaching surfing.

This is The Shack, where someday we will drink coffee and eat ice cream again. 

I liked this hand painted sign, you don't see many of them anymore. Carrigart is on the next peninsula over. It seems so far from here these days. 

There is a "big house" above Marble Hill beach. The house is hard to see from the road, but everyone passes the pretty gate house on the curve in the road. 

Marble Hill House on the left and its gate house. The usual procession of beech trees. 




Marble Hill House on the right, shower of holiday homes on the left. 

By now I'd reached the residential section of Marble Hill road. Several of the homes here have elaborate gates. This one is well-kept and the daffodils are blooming. 

This is the gate to Ochiliree. Ochiliree is a town in Scotland. 

The one after that is in disrepair, but I think people are living up that road because there were sacks of garbage here last week. 

The house is called "Rest-A-While." How creative. 

Our house is called by the equally creative name "Bide-A-Wee," but no one uses it. Most houses in rural Ireland don't have street addresses, but are named instead, and the postman knows where everyone lives. I received mail addressed to me at "Lower Faugher, Donegal" before I had even introduced myself to the postman. I had told our old postman that we were moving, and he said he would tell our new postman about us. So that's how that happens. 

Then the road brought me back home. Just under 3 miles. I have a feeling I'll be taking this walk many more times in the next month or two. Not a bad place to be sheltering in place. 

How the Irish Vote: Proportional Representation-Single Transfer Voting

Only rarely do people who aren't already friends talk about politics with me, out of politeness I suppose. Last February I was thrilled when one of the nurses at the cancer room chatted with me about the race for Donegal TDs (similar to congress members) in the General Election. She predicted a good outcome for Sinn Féin, and the possibility that they would win enough seats to be part of the government. She was right. 

The voting system in Ireland is different from what's used in most countries. I wish we used it in the States. "Single-Transfer, Ranked Choice Voting" allows for voters to express their preference for minority party candidates without "wasting their vote." 

The rest of this post is a primer from the Irish Times:

Ireland’s voting system: How does it work and how should I use it?

Our single transferrable vote system of proportional representation – or PR-STV – is one of the most flexible and subtle systems anywhere in the world. It enables voters to support the candidate or party they like best, even if they have little or no chance of being elected, and then using their preferences to ensure that their vote moves on to a candidate with a real chance of making it to the Dáil. While it is not strictly proportional it is much fairer than the straight vote system in the UK or the US.

Should you vote all the way down the ballot paper?

Yes. To maximise the impact of your vote it is best to give every candidate a preference. Give your first preference to the candidate you most want to see elected and then in descending order of preference down to the one you like least.

You don’t have to do this and can stop at whatever point you want and your vote will still be valid but to have maximum impact it is best to use all your preferences. The key thing to remember is that a lower preference can never interfere with a higher one. Your number two will only come into play if your first preference is eliminated or elected and so on.
So how does the system work?

From a voter’s perspective STV is very simple. Just rank the candidates in order of your choice starting with 1. The counting of votes is a different matter and can appear very complicated to the uninitiated. The first thing to understand is that a quota is set for each constituency depending on the number of seats to be filled and the number of people who have voted. The quota is arrived at by dividing the number of valid votes by the number of seats plus one, and then adding one to the resulting total.

For instance if 40,000 votes are cast in a three-seat constituency the quota would be calculated by dividing the number of votes by four and then adding one making it 10,001. The formula means that no more than three people can reach the quota.

How do transfers work?

After the first count when all the number ones have been counted the first thing to happen is that the surplus votes of a successful candidate who has exceeded the quota will be distributed. This is done by checking the second preferences on all the ballot papers of the candidate and distributing his or her number twos in proportion.

When all the first-count surpluses have been distributed the returning officer will then move on to eliminating the candidate with the lowest number of votes. The number twos will be counted and allocated to the other candidates. The next lowest will be eliminated and so on until there are only three candidates left for the three seats.
But where does a number four or five or even lower preference come in?

As the counts progress a vote that was cast for a candidate eliminated early in the count will move on to the number two. If that candidate is eliminated in turn it will go on to number three and so on. If the candidate getting the number two is already elected or eliminated the vote will move on to the next available candidate still in the race.

There is a complication about distributing the surplus of a candidate elected after the first count with the help of transfers. Instead of counting all of the candidate’s votes to allocate the next available preference, only the last bundles of votes received are counted to see where the next preferences goes.

What is meant by tactical voting?

One way of voting tactically is that by going all the way down the ballot paper you can support the candidate or party you want with high preferences while attempting to stop the ones you like least by putting them at the very end.

Another way of voting tactically is that where a party is running more than one candidate, committed supporters are advised to give the number one to the weakest candidate on the ticket to maximise the party’s chances of winning more than one seat. If the candidate is eliminated, the vote will not be wasted as the next preference will automatically be counted.

Are all the preferences on all ballot papers counted?

No. At least half the ballot papers cast on Saturday will not be counted beyond the number one. If the number one goes to a candidate who is in contention for a seat but does not exceed the quota at any stage the second preference will not be counted. Many of the seats will be filled by candidates who fall just short of a quota on the final count. Even if a candidate exceeds the quota after the first count only a small proportion of the next preferences will be counted as part of a surplus.

What is a spoiled vote?

A small proportion of votes are spoiled in every election because the voter has not clearly indicated a preference. This sometimes happens because a number 1 is given to more than one candidate. Often votes are spoiled on purpose with slogans written on the ballot paper by disgruntled voters.

Is the STV system or PR a uniquely Irish one?

No. It was imposed on this country as part of the Home Rule Act in 1912 and later incorporated in the Anglo-Irish Treaty of 1921 with the objective of protecting the unionist minority and ensuring they had representation in an Irish parliament. The system was later included in de Valera’s 1937 constitution and two attempts to abolish it, in 1959 and 1966, were rejected by the electorate. The same system is used in Malta, the Australian senate and Northern Ireland Assembly.

A Song for These Tough Times

Oró stay the fuck home. And washing your fucking hands. 

Here's the tune if you don't know it. 

A beautiful version, with ancient Irish horn, and social distancing. 

From The Wind The Shakes The Barley where I first heard it.