(Thanks to Shawn Santa Lucia for the picture)

To follow up just a bit with the previous  entry where I was caught out as an undercover  CIA Agent in Ireland…. (you got to laugh eh…)  Yes cleverly disguised as drama teacher and part time ukulele player….(is there nothing sacred!!)

I later went to a play rehearsal for a show I’m directing. Just to bring you up to speed if you aren’t living in Ireland and reading this…. Every parish in every town land throughout the country has a GAA club ( Gaelic Athletic Association)

The GAA plays Irish football and hurling which is like lacrosse  but without the net on the end of the stick. Everyone plays in the GAA in the summer and autumn but in the winter and spring they do something else ( its spring now in Ireland in case you didn’t know !)

They have these indoor games called Scor. ( The name is actually longer and its in Irish and I can’t spell it nor pronounce, so this will have to do.)

It’s a huge country-wide, predominately rural, variety show. People join forces and become a ballad group or a  set dance company or recite poems or sing songs or put on very short comic  plays ( with no swearing or drinking involved)

Soooo… the next parish over from me is Kiltuburt and this is the second year that we have worked together mounting a new play written just for them. And we have our performance on March 6th in Drumreilly Parish. ( wish us luck)

When I told the group the rumour about me being a CIA agent, one bright spark in group pipes up and says ” You’re not CIA-  you’re ICA”

Translation: ICA ( Irish Country Woman Association) Pre- feminist but truly rural feminist organization that looked after the interest of woman- beginning at the turn of the century. They encouraged women to do things like…keep up traditional crafts, cookery skills and other stuff like  insist that if a man wanted to marry a girl, he had better make sure there was water and electricity in the house!  Now that was a big deal. The Electrification of Ireland is still talked about…It happened in the late 50’s early 60’s. Same with water pipes,baths and toilets,washing machines dryers (I know only handful of people who even today use a dryer and for the most part its a family that would get one. And you know, its not so bad. The dryer uses a lot of electricity and they are the cause of most home fires…. though secretly I  miss fluffy towels)

I remember when we were children and we would return to Ireland to visit our grandparents and  one year my mother bought my Nan a fridge. And two years later ( early 70’s) we visited and discovered how much my granny loved the fridge- its keep things cool, kept the rats out and we discovered the fridge outside beside the old cold box.  She hadn’t realized that you could plug this in…we laughed , we cried,,, we lugged the fridge inside. Oh yeah….. ICA not CIA..

thanks for clinking in…

always

eileen

On Friday night while  sitting in the front bar of Berry’s tavern waiting for a drink and the Writers’ Reading Night to begin, a woman I know fairly well turned to  me and said, “Eileen, I heard a rumor about you the other day.”

“Oh no..” thought I, fearing the worst.

She continued.

” I was out with other night with G. at Cryann’s, just having a few pints and he went up to the bar to collect them. While he was there some man came over to him and said, “You’re from Drumshanbo aren’t you?

“Yeah.”  G replied.

“You know Eileen O’Toole, don’t you?”

“Sure, ”  He says,” plays the ukulele, I know her.”

“ Well did you know,” and the guy leans in, ” That’s she’s a CIA agent!!”

( I love this country)

The question is … does she know that she’s a CIA agent… or maybe the question is ,when did they start paying the agents so little?

CIA?? CIA???  ……I’d rather be Scotland Yard…… gottcha !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Over the past weekend I had the pleasure of attending a ceremony welcoming spring. On the 1st of February here in Ireland its Imbolc or St Brigit’s Day. It’s one of the four great festivals that are gateways into the seasons of the turning of the year. Its the time when the ewes have their first milk as the new lambs are born. And although ( as my new Italian /Celtic friend Kitita remarked) it’s sub zero degrees out there, the birds have a kind of sparkling lilt to their song. Someone at the Sunday session said they heard the cuckoo. Why even the wee daffodil have shoots up and look around for a bit of heat.

A large thanks to Shaman Simone for inviting me to the Festival of Isis. It was a long trip to Wexford but well worth the drive!

The place was a tiny villlage called Clonegal, just north of Bunclody and south of Baltinglass . The owner of the castle is a 92 years old woman named Olivia. She has long brown hair, a hint of grey on the top of her head and as she says, her own teeth.

Bygod , she whipped around that castle like nobody’s business.

she’s brilliant.

Here’s a few pictures including a couple I took in the temple. And a few more shots of the art in the garden… well why wouldn’t ye…

And the reason I traveled all the way to this festival was because the image of the Egyptian Goddess Maat was around me all week long and I didn’t understand why… not being much into the Egyptians deities… it was an odd thing to constantly be seeing this winged woman. It was my birthday on Sunday so earlier in the week I asked Shaman Simone to work with as I am entering the last year of my 40’s ( Yahoooo- 100 is NOT old enough!)) Anyway she told me she was going to the Fellowship of Isis and why not come along… Thank you Simome

.. good clean fun!

Right so…… Must fly to work myself- I’m back teaching drama to 22 of the most beautiful people in Glenamaddy Co. Galway at a Special Needs Centre.

Thanks for clinkin’ in.

Take care of yourself

xx

always eileen

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