June 13, 2024

Jordan and I were walking the one lane road that runs in front of the cottage when we heard a car and pulled over to let it pass. But it didn’t pass. It stopped. And the driver, a total stranger who lives in a village about twelve miles from Gort, rolled down his window. For a chat.

After several minutes of delightful conversation, he asked if I knew why Chevy Chase Woods, just a couple of miles up the road, was named that. I didn’t know. When I suggested it was because the faeries that live there have a sense of humor, he laughed. Then he looked me in the eye, smiled, said, “Now the next time we meet, I expect a proper answer,” and drove off. 

Chances are pretty good we will not meet again. But I have now researched this and discovered there are two possibilities. One associates the place to the Cheviot Hills along the English-Scottish border where ‘chaces’ were popular hiding and hunting areas. Hence Cheviot Chace, now Chevy Chase. Which does echo the English influences in this area. The other option is a derivation of ‘chevauchee’, the French word for horseback border raids. Which would also echo the area’s past. 

OK. More information than you wanted. But for those of you who have been to the cottage, walked to the woods, and asked the same question, here’s your answer.

Ah, road rambling revelations. Yesterday neighbor Mick and I drove up this same road and well past Chevy Chase Woods to see a farmer and find out if he would be willing to do some landscape management here at the cottage. He would. It turns out he planted many of the trees in the cottage garden and landscape for the original owner. 

On the drive, Mick named every owner past and present of every house we passed. Names, and many stories. Like the man who used to own a garage just there who would fix your car in no time. If you had a mishap after visiting the pub, you could go to him and he would work all night to have your car repaired by the next morning so your wife would suspect nothing. 

With the Gatherings complete and the many cottage visitors now gone, it’s wonderful to have the time to settle into the rural rhythms and ramblings of my Irish neighborhood.

Beannacht,
Judith

June 12, 2024

I’m pretty sure he would call himself neither of those. But after spending time with him, there is clearly more to him than he lets though his humble demeanor and wry humor. He clearly dances a bit with the spirit of water even though, ah sure, he’s only a plumber.

There was a leak in one of the radiators so Francie came by yesterday to fix the problem. He had to turn off and drain the entire system which took the better part of two hours. And he gave me much needed advice on our toilet which he pronounced an absolute piece of
shite. One of those modern low flow toilets with a tank too small to provide the necessary hearty flush. “Absolute crap, these new things!” I reflected that could probably be said about more than toilets…but I won’t digress. He made some adjustments for a better flush.

I tried to stay out of his way as he danced around the cottage inside and out, turning things off and on, working with the boiler, checking every valve and radiator. This heating system is a mystery to me, so I appreciate that I was hovering a bit to learn more. And it was in my hovering that we fell into a conversation about holy wells. “Do ye believe they hold healing?” Well apparently we both do as he shared stories of a holy well near his house not far from here. I expect there’s more he would share. But perhaps not on a first meeting. Although I’m not excited to need his services any time soon, I do look forward to our next chat.

As he left, I told him I was not happy with the €80/$87 price he had quoted me for the job. I gave him €100. “Ah, good woman!”, he said. He was here for almost two hours. And I want to make sure he will be happy to return. Seems important to have a good relationship with a water wizard!

Beannacht,
Judith

June 8, 2024

The mystical is not
how the world is,
but that it is.
Ludwig Wittgenstein

Spiritual retreat. The phrase always lands for me as somewhat oxymoronic. For we are not retreating from the spiritual but into it. We are, however, retreating from the noise and chaos of our lives which is essential for experiencing the mystical.

That opportunity, that invitation, is the nature and purpose of the Gatherings here in Ireland. Walking the land. Living the rhythms. Integration with the patterns, especially the patterns of earth, ancestral, and otherworld energies. Beyond an experience, it is a merging that calls us to weave the threads of this mystical wisdom in the fabric of our lives.

After two amazing Gatherings over these past weeks, I’m now settling back into the gentle rhythms of the cottage and tending those threads. There will be much to share. But for now, I am just being and listening. The wisdom of the mystical merging is still arriving.

Beannacht,
Judith