The Unexpected Cyclist

(dedicated to all the cycling enthusiasts I've met over the years):

A fine addition to our day
An unexpected cyclist made his way
Through crowded alleys and pedestrian streets
Tires crunching gravel ‘neath tired feet
Replete with goggles, Lycra shorts,
And a shiny helmet to turn the parts
Into a character, sure and neat
The kind a girl’s parents might like to meet
With a friendly grin, he comes to a stop
And from his saddle down he hops
And without delay starts to regale
The assembled crowd with many tales
Of all his travels, both near and far
And the merits of never owning a car
The folks who do, he vehemently claims,
Never feel the sun or rain
Nor feel the wind bite like a cat,
None who have would forget that!

But after talking long, and eating more,
He retires homeward, intent to snore
Relaxing muscles that work so hard
To bring him joy and more reward
He dreams so much of being on the road,
The unexpected cyclist, brave and bold.

follow up

So in a short follow up to my last blog, I want to praise and laud the American tradition of Thanksgiving, which I had explained to me by a teenager from Massachusetts as a celebration of this Indian dude who taught the pilgrims how to hunt back in the day (paraphrased). After enjoying a Thanksgiving meal with some American friends tonight, I am currently in a slight food coma, and can still taste the juicy turkey and succulent ham that formed the centrepiece of the meal. in my previous post I mentioned the air of welcome and intermingling of aromas in the Galway Christmas market, and in case anyone hasn't recognized, food has an effect of making me extremely content. Being present during the preparation the meal, I was impatient, to say the least. It was like watching people eat on television, a tantalizing teasing torment, which could not end soon enough. As the meal was served, a variety of tasty American dishes with which I was not familiar presented themselves. I only hope that someone, somewhere, has published a 'Thanksgiving Cookbook' because I plan on making this an annual event, whether or not I'm in the USA. I think this is definitely yet another foreign tradition that I am totally happy to subscribe to. In the dark days in the depths of November, when the only light we can see is the distant light of Christmas, why not fire up a turkey early in concert with our cousins across the pond?
peace and a full belly.
Dermo

the Galway Revival

well I'm unsure of what to write about today, but it seems auspicious by the fullness of the moon that this weekend should have been as crazy as it was, and therefore blog-worthy. Although I may not write about anything that happened this weekend at all. It's been both good, bad and ultimately pretty much like many other weekends that have happened in the course of my time living in Galway. The biggest change which I just realized I want to blog about is Galway's new "Continental" Christmas Market. This is, despite what its detractors may say, the realization of the potential of Eyre Square as a central civic plaza; an amenity to be enjoyed by the good people of Galway and visitors alike, as opposed to a loitering ground for teenagers and drunks and an obstacle to walk around on one's way to the train station. I recall when, not long after I relocated to this city, the whole sorry saga of the "renovation" of Eyre Square was finally finished, prompting one local bigwig to remark in the local newspaper that Galway finally had a civic plaza to rival any European city (my own paraphrasing). Now I think that that statement is no longer wholly untrue, and this attempt to bring new life to the concrete misery of Eyre Square is an extremely important step forward in the revival of life in Galway. Galway has too many people with good intentions, but not enough people with the drive and determination to bring those ideas to fruition. I applaud those who brought this Market to the city, and only hope that this is not a once-off spark of genius, and we shall start making use of our civic areas for something other than a spot to hide our Buckfast bottles before going to a club.
And in conclusion, on the subject of the Market itself, it has an extremely cosy feel, and despite the chilly weather, all the lights, colours and delicious smells make it a lovely warm atmosphere. The mainstay of most of the stalls is food, and one can find a whole wide range of different foods, too many to describe, however I myself am quite taken with the traditional "Celtic Hog Roast", simple but delicious food. until I sample each and every one of the rest, I shall reserve judgement..
Hurrah for European intervention in Galway. Some see the economic bailout as a loss of sovereignty. This may be so, I don't blog about politics or economics. however, when any foreign tradition has this much charm, good cheer, and general advantages to offer, well I say why not?! And the tradition of the "Continental Christmas Market" is one that I for one hope will catch on in our country, and brighten up these dark days.
peace, love and prosperity
Dermo

I love my bed.

it's winter. I know it happens every year, but every year I'm not ready for it, and usually, every year I get depressed and stressed. this year may be worse due to financial shortage. I guess I'm finally feeling the pinch just like so many others the world over. at least I have a bed with warm blankets and enough food. Bed is nice, I really never enjoy leaving it, although recently I have tried to limit the time I spend there, as it was reaching unsafe levels.. :) sorry about that, I don't normally use smileys, I feel that they degrade conversation, and since blogging is conversation with oneself, neither should they have a place here. this obsession among youth to degrade language has been a bone of contention with me for some time, and despite the fact it has even grabbed me myself with its slimy tentacles, (I sometimes find myself abbreviating, non-capitalizing, and, God forbid, omitting an apostrophe) I try to advocate use of proper language in the interwebbloggo-ethersphere. However, I find that in the digital age, the decline in proper speech has spread not only to the written/typed format, but subsequently to the spoken form of a language. this scares me. I can understand teenagers with their OMGs and LOLs online; but when they start using these phrases in everyday speech is when I become a grumpy old man. in fact most popular culture references leave me feeling a little out of the loop. boo hoo. I'm happy in my own little world and the less I know about what is currently 'hip' the more content I am. I'm beginning to believe some of those conspiracy theorists who claim 'they' are trying to dumb down the world. No need to try baby; it's already happened.
something to think about eh?
peace out.
Drmo

Dancing at The Crossroads

They came in silence and in revelry to dance beneath the moon,
To sing some songs and drink some pints and play some joyful tunes
In droves they came, some blind or lame, from country and from town,
And they met up at the crossroads just as the sun went down.

Ould Richie was the piper, he played a soulful air,
He’d empty a few jars and be flying in the chair.
He’d never seen the daylight, for he never had the sight,
But he’d jump up from his stool and be dancing all the night

The lads from Kilmacthomas, they brought down two large barn doors
And they nailed them both together and it made a mighty floor
Up jumped Johnny Berrill and he’s just fed the pigs,
But the sparks sure they were flying as he hopped some hearty jigs

The bonfires they were burning bright, and the spirits they were high,
When John Murphy turned around and got a fist into his eye.
He smashed a glass of poitín against Tom Reilly’s head
and did no more but drank a score and ‘goodnight’ was all he said

The lads below were joking, and the air was thick with tales
But the lasses knew the stories were but wind to fill the sails
They giggled and they listened but they kept one sharp eye peeled
For the man that took their fancy was the one could dance a reel.

The fires burning low now and the tunes were waning fast,
The musicians getting tired now, gave it a final blast,
The youths found quiet corners where they made their young romance
And oul’ Richie the blind piper finished up on his last dance

The waltzes they were over, and the fires were nearly out,
The glasses they were empty of the whiskey and the stout.
People packing up their dancing shoes and heading home too soon
Until next week’s crossroads dance does take place beneath the moon.

things to make and do

so I just started using Skype. it seems as if the whole world is on it, and in my zeal for catching up on all the latest crazes in technology, it seemed quite apt. the only thing i found is that you need a quiet spot to do it, or else anyone could wander in and things could get rather embarrassing. it's almost like sex, except of course you're not in the same room as the other person, so maybe more like masturbation, which is, of course, why they created the internet, or so I'm told. anyway, enough gutter talk. I'm here to talk about cooking. which would be more apt if I could actually cook. I do things well enough, except that I almost always forget one vital ingredient. more often than not this is salt. I live in a house where we all (myself included) like to keep the kitchen tidy. this is an admirable trait, except that I don't agree that leaving the salt in plain sight makes the kitchen untidy. however, in an attempt to appease my housemates, I put the salt away after use. this usually leads me to forget putting salt on my food, as I prefer to cook with whatever happens to be at hand. except if that happens to be mushrooms. I am fortunate to live in a mushroom-free environment, as the four disciples I inhabit this abode with also despise these small spawn of Satan. anything that thrives in cold, dark, damp places cannot be healthy, although I do hope this doesn't annoy the Russians, who I believe can sometimes be very healthy, allowing for unsafe amounts of vodka intake. anyway back to mushrooms. these fungi (call them what you will, they share DNA with athlete's foot) not only smell bad and look despicable, they cause severe intestinal damage. this has not been proved scientifically yet, but my last experience with them can ultimately testify (to me at least) the truth of this claim. it was in a diner, on Miami Beach, and I was having a hard time finding any other establishment in which to eat, I decided to order a Philly cheesesteak. I had enjoyed many of these in other places at other times, and I figured that I couldn't go wrong. the menu stated that mushrooms were an optional extra. at least I read it that way. turns out that NO mushrooms was an option. I didnt realize this till afterwards. while halfway through munching on my sandwich, I was horrified to see the demon fungus staring at me from between the meat and cheese. rushing outside to the busy beach road, I commenced to keel over like a drunk into the gutter and spew up my entire stomach contents onto the sandy beach. it was like this that my friends found me and helped me to my feet. I spent the remainder of that day in my hotel room, with feverish nightmares causing intense mental anguish.
I can't continue this post, my mind is too traumatized.
until next time.
DH

Savannah

Okay so I'm in Savannah, and it's the start of November. hard to believe it's T-shirt weather. this place is amazing, the soft breezes at night while sitting on a balcony watching the stars, and then the police helicopter flew overhead with his spotlight illuminating a police chase nearby! the old wooden houses are amazing. so well-preserved and warm inside. the facades are painted in various pastels and have just the right amount of wear and tear to look more charmingly antiquated than just looking vaguely dilapidated. having only been here for 24 hours, I'm still experiencing new hostelries and eateries, but so far most of the places I've gone have been extremely satisfying, The Sentient Bean being a perfect neighbourhood coffee shop type of lunchtime hangout that any self-respecting, slightly alternative, 'cool' neighbourhood should have. Mellow Mushroom, despite its name (see following post on how mushrooms and Julia Roberts take joint first on my 'Things I Despise' list), was an experience for the senses, with my hot sauce pizza and a pitcher and good banter shared with good friends.. anyhow, taking a day-trip to Tybee Island tomorrow for picnic and beach-type things. until next time.
Peace.
Dermo