The most exciting story from Mike's place: While he was working Wednesday night, the cat Sailor darted into my room, made a
beeline for the bathroom, pooped a human-sized poo in the shower, and then ran
out. I Skyped Michelle for an hour before I fetched a shovel from the shed and
moved it. Since my shower didn't work, I boiled water in the electric kettle and tried to wash away the residue and stench. End of story.
I woke up on Thursday morning, and Mike said, "We need to talk." Never a good sign. He went on, "Why don't we have some coffee?" Then there was a tangent conversation about coffee because I only saw the decaf and have, thus, been drinking cups of tea and cups of decaf to try to satisfy my latent addiction. Anyways, Mike finally came out with the facts: he has overbooked himself. He is a youth worker, so he works odd hours at that job. His thesis for his graduate program is due at the end of October, and he is not allowed any more extensions. He signed himself up for a soil course this weekend but had to cancel it because of the thesis. He is applying for another position elsewhere. And to top it all off, his girlfriend left for Japan the day I arrived, and he hasn't been sleeping. Therefore, he just doesn't have time to work with me on the farm and give me the "WWOOFer experience." That's fair. I love honesty.
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| Limerick |
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| for all of you history buffs |
So on Friday, I left for Co. Mayo. Wouldn't you know, on the car ride to the bus station, Mike dropped the bomb on me that he was getting married. When I asked when, he said, "Well, she's having the baby in May, so probably before then." Talk about a lot going on in his life!
I arrived in Castlebar, Co. Mayo, to my host Martina. I
really can't describe her. I realized that I haven't spent a lot of time with
Irish women, so I can't really compare her to anyone. She mentioned to me
during the car ride to her house that I would not actually be working on the
farm, as she had not extended that invitation to me. I would be assisting her,
personally, with tasks she needed done around the house. This was news to me,
but because I'm me, I said, "Oh. (Pause.) Ok." When we got to her
house, she said, "Will you walk my dogs?" Upon my affirmative, she
gave me quick directions to the park, told me the first dog (The dogs are
walked separately on the same path.) would basically show me the way, and then
threw me out into the night. Well, this dog, Gav, did not show me the way. He
pulled me one direction, heard a firework, got scared, and pulled me home. Then
I tried to walk him the other direction, and he heard a firework and pulled me
home. Martina saw us coming, opened the door, asked why I hadn't taken him to
the park, and when I tried to explain that Gav was afraid of the noise, she
muttered the oh-so-common "Jesus!" and promptly exited the house.
"Emily, even if there are bombs, we walk the dog," and she sped off
to the park, occasionally running. Later that evening, I found out that my
misunderstanding of the directions caused her to miss part of an episode of a
famous Irish soap. This particular night was a big reveal. That's why she was a
little testy.
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| Just me and Charlie |
The next day was strange. I forgot to brush my teeth in the
morning and then just didn't get to it. Mainly because Martina locked me out of
the house while she ran errands. I think this was an accident, as she is very
used to just locking the doors behind her. Good thing I also didn't drink water
that day! The first time she returned home, she said, "Emily, tea."
This is very different from, "Emily, tea?" You get me? Martina says
that one a lot, and she typically follows it rapidly with "Do you really
get me?" Anyways, during tea, she told me that she went to the store to
buy several legs of lamb, and the butcher said that they were only giving out
one leg per customer, so she came back to the house specifically to collect
me--another customer. We went to the same store in two different towns, but she
refused to go in because the butchers had already seen her. She gave me
instructions, with a different strategy in each store. At the second store, the
game plan included me entering and exiting the store twice, so that the butcher
would not see lamb from the fridge section in my trolley and then refuse to
sell me lamb because I had already found some. If he would only give me one
leg, it was suggested that I mention my impending wedding reception and
pout. At one point, she said, "I
feel like we're in a James Bond movie or something." Then in the car, Martina
had a lengthy monologue on dishonesty and why can't people just be decent
humans. I am still confused by that one.
At the very first farm in Italy, I learned from my host Pia
that, when it comes to work on a farm, you never get OCD about anything. The
basic rule of thumb was do everything well but not perfectly well. If it takes
10 minutes to get something completed well and another 20 to get it completed
perfectly, you could have performed the same task three times instead of
wasting time with perfection. "Don't get crazy" was Pia's motto.
Yeah, Martina is not that way. I pushed leaves on her back porch (which sits
below the limbs of several trees, and it's autumn), and after I finished she
said, "If you could just sweep the porch again...we kind of want the porch
spotless."
Despite her bluntness, Martina and I have had some fantastic conversations, and she really does want to show me the best of Achill (because I'm now staying at her other house on Achill Island). Too bad I just thought we were going to the hardware store when she drove me to the top of a hill to see a stunning view of beach and mountain and ocean and sky; I wish I had brought my camera with me! I'll make sure to get some more photos for you in the next post, but this one is basically the view from my bedroom window. Good morning!
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