Those are images I took during my stays in county Limerick(Loch Derg) and Tipperary.
I'm in the office, speaking to the management in Dublin today; wishing I were elsewhere.
Why? Well, because earlier today I had a bit of a setback...
I was sent out to Leixlip. Hell, since I am in an image posting mood, here's the ONLY image I knowingly possess of my several visits to Leixlip:
Today I am sent to well on the other side of Mondello Park to deliver a vehicle. I gotta say I do like Leixlip and Maynooth. A friend of mine lives in a cottage near the castle. I might have to give him a call after I am done updating this blog. Where was I? Oh yeah, so I am struggling to find this house with no address in the outskirts of Leixlip. Try as I might, I am not having any luck finding this place. I call the owner twice, and really didn't want to call them a third time, especially since I barely understood the man for his accent. It seems I've been driving forever in the middle of nowhere when I see a man trimming his hedge. I decided to try my chances of some information off of a random stranger even though most country folk really do not appreciate you parking a big truck outside of their drive way.
"You're not gonna park that there for long, are you?"
"Uh... Nah. NO. I mean, I was hoping to ask you for directions." I was parked a bit close to his hedge to allow traffic to pass me on the tight country road.
"Here now. Where are ye from then, if you don't mind my asking?" The man sized me up. I think he was expecting something other than my own accent to come outta me. Lots of Eastern Europeans work this type of job, it seems. I told him I was an American. I explained how it was I arrived at his doorstep from Texas to Dublin to now. I also informed him how stunningly beautiful the country was where he lived.
"Oh my. You've had a long journey then? Sure, you'll have a cup of tea with us."
Uh oh.
"Oh, um...I can manage a quick drink, I suppose. Do you smoke?". I didn't bother to fight the tea. You just can't fight the tea in Ireland. Don't even try. I knew he smoked. There were cigarette butts among the trimmings on the drive.
"Oh, Lucky Strike? Not only are Americans a bit rare in these parts, but I've never seen those cigarettes before. Moireen!!!", he yelled over his shoulder for his wife to bring us some tea. He didn't have to wait long, she was bringing the tea out nearly the moment we started speaking.
Moireen was lovely and charming. She did seem a bit young to be a wife, I thought. She certainly wasn't acting like his daughter, though.
"You're not parking that lorrie there long, are you?"
I looked at Moireen and was about to respond.
"No, Moireen. He's only just lost."
I was feeling more lost by the moment. She had a very strong Russian accent. Maybe Polish. But an Irish name? That accent was amazingly sexy on her. I wanted her to speak more.
"Uh," I couldn't speak. My nerves had caught my tongue. Now I wanted me to speak more.
Fortunately both Moireen and her husband did enough talking to get my fill of Moireen's accent and also find my way to the drop off. I jumped back up into the truck just in time to avoid a sudden down pour of rain.
"So, I hear horses are as smart as dogs." I was trying to make some conversation after I had dropped the car off in what appeared to be a horse ranch sorta place. The rain was rhythmically tapping on the roof of the stable, and filling the air with the scent of musk. The horses certainly smelled like wild animals, but it was a familiar smell as I had been around horses on numerous previous occasions. What does one call a horse ranch? Don't these people have fancy names for such things? Just, 'Horse Ranch'? I began to rub the horse between his ears. He seemed to like it.
"Oh, thank God, no!", the man looked down at his Labrador admirably and then back to me. "This guy was nothing but trouble until he reached nearly six years of age!".
He reached out to me and handed me a bill. I wasn't expecting anything. I looked down to see it was a twenty Euro bill. At the time that was the equivalent of nearly thirty five dollars. I couldn't take that much for a tip!
"I can't take this much for a tip!"
"Oh, gowan! Listen, the tow's free to me, so the least I can do is sort you out for coming out to me in the ersatz!"
"I'm just gonna go spend it on cigarettes and alcohol." Did he say 'Ersatz'?
"I want you to! And cheers for the help!"
I dunno what connections he had to make dispatch send me over and drop off his car for free, but I wasn't going to argue. It wasn't any of my business, anyways. I thanked him profusely and went on my way.
None of the roads in the area had names, nor were any of them on the sat nav. Still, I managed to find my way nearly to Mondello Park without any missteps. I was wondering what to do after work with the tip. It's nice having cash on hand for the drive back home. I already had a fresh pack of Luckies on hand. I retrieved the pack from my coat pocket and brought a cigarette to my mouth. Ugh! My hand smelled of ass. Ok, that horse must have been rolling around in the hay or something, because that stank. Dear Lord.
"Dear Lord!!!"
I swerved as hard as I dared in the rain to avoid the lorrie that tried to turn in front of me. He slammed on his brakes, but was still easily 5 feet in my lane. I was on a sweeping right hand curve, so the curvature of the road helped me miss what I could now clearly see was a big Scania semi truck protruding from the other lane. Unfortunately, it also made it easy for me to go on the wet grass on the side of the road. I tried not to slam on my brakes, as I knew it would risk losing control on the grass. I tried to ease the truck off of the shoulder and back onto the tarmac when the truck stopped responding. I didn't know it at the time, but there was a culvert underneath the tall grass. I wasn't going anywhere now but forwards when my left side wheels entered it. Forwards from that was a large hedge. I would estimate I hit that hedge at about 50 miles an hour. It was a horrendous noise. Hedges in Ireland are not simply some bushes laying about. They are designed to control livestock or separate fields, and can be quite substantial. This hedge was more substantial than others. After about thirty or forty yards of plowing through that hedge, I hit a tree stump. It was large enough to nearly instantly stop me. I wasn't wearing my seat belt. I had undone it to reach my cigarettes.
For a moment, it was quiet. Well, truthfully, I had no idea how long I had been sitting there. I knew I was hurt, but I wanted to wait a bit before I checked myself out.
Someone opened the door to my cab. I turned to see a man looking up at me. He had wellies on. He must be the farmer. When I hit the stump, I was forced into the steering wheel. The dash on the Mercedes I was driving was so cavernous it saved me from slamming my face through the windshield. My hands must have hit it, though. They hurt, and the window had cracks. I could barely breathe for the pain in my chest and abdomen.
"Hey! Are we alright then, are we?" shouted the farmer with some urgency. My ears were ringing, and he sounded like his mouth was full of rocks, so don't take my word for it that that is what he actually said.
"No fucking air bags?! How old is this thing?!" I now noticed I was spitting blood. The farmer noticed, too. My face must have hit the steering wheel. He handed me a rag that smelled of diesel. I wiped the blood from my face, and then wrapped it around my left hand. It hurt more than my right hand at the time. I slid down onto the ground from the cabin and looked into the side mirror. It was just a slight bloody nose and a cracked lip. I could barely stand. So, I sat down. I had trouble focusing as well. This only helped to make me even more nauseous.
"Oh no! We can't park it here!"
If it were possible at the time, I would have looked up and gave the man a scowl for saying it, but it hurt just to sit.
"I mean, we mustn't stay here. Your lorrie is leaking fuel."
I really didn't want to move. I reached in to my coat pocket and pulled out a pack of Luckies.
"It's diesel. I doubt it will ignite." I lit a cigarette. This had the added effect of also catching the rag on fire. I stared at it with mild surprise, thought about how to save the cigarette for an instant, then gave up and plunged them both into the cold, wet grass. I sighed. It hurt to sigh. I could use a cigarette.
"OK, you have a point." I leaned on the farmers shoulders after he helped me to my feet. I was led to the man's tractor and sat on the small trailer attached behind it. I stared blankly at the ground.
"What are we going to do now?" he asked as he helped me light another cigarette.
I took a look around for the other truck. It was long gone, and not another soul was around. I thanked him and handed him a twenty Euro bill. He stared at it. There was some blood on it now.
"Now?", I said with a bit of labor. "Now, we lose our job."
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