We have left the comforts of the city (now there's a bad idea) and have driven to the "country" for a few days--Knocktopher, Kilkenny to be exact. Driving on the wrong side of the road wasn't as bad as I expected--only a few near head-ons when I momentarily lapsed into States' habits. One of the last times I drove on the "wrong" side of the road was in Lahore, Pakistan. We were in bit of a hurry and trying to get around a herd of goats in the road. So we headed toward a narrow alley. My partner Doug's last words were, "Looks a little tight" and mine were "Loads"--and then I wedged the car between to two walls, instantly to be surrounded by fifty pointing and laughing Pakistanis (I have never been anywhere in the world where a crowd forms as fast as in Pakistan). Anyway, yesterday's trip was less eventful. Last night, we ate carrots and potatoes from Dado's garden and this morning we will have eggs from the chickens he keeps in two rusty vans in his front yard--and I thought my friend Grant was bad--So Dado and Current Wife (CW) are still sleeping this Saturday morning and I am up with the two dreadful creatures. I have tried to make a fire in the stove so I can make a yummy cup of Dado's instant coffee. But Dado has no kerosene, and I filled the entire house with smoke. Dado and CW are either still sleeping or have perished from smoke inhalation (that would mean we were only married one month--whoopee!). I now have googled "Starbucks, Ireland" and got Dublin--a mere two hour drive up country. So I gotta go now--have to resuscitate, I mean wake up CW, and tell her I am going out for coffee and a paper.Irish lesson # 3: Dado = Grandpa
