27 February, 2007


Monday, February 26

This is my fourth day in Ireland, the first day of the official program. It seems like I’ve been here a month already. We took the coach from our B&B to Dublin airport yesterday morning to meet the Newfoundland contingent, who launched the tour in Toronto on Friday night. When their flight came in, it was like the clown car act in the circus, or maybe The 35 People you Meet in Heaven. One familiar face after the other.

We were herded onto a charter bus for the drive to Waterford, where we will be based for the next several days, traveling out into the countryside to various performance venues, which range from concert halls to pubs. It is an eclectic group, as the March Hare roster has always been. The program features the famous, the almost-famous, the infamous and the as-yet unknown. There is a film crew and a radio reporter. And then there are those who are simply along for the ride.

I am so glad that Patrick is here. It was overwhelming on the bus, where my father’s name seemed to be everyone’s every other word. The printed program acknowledges him very beautifully, and the March Hare Anthology, hot off the press, is full of tributes to him as well. I was glad to have my husband’s shoulder to hide out in when I needed to. Also his elbow to nudge me later at the pub when it was time to call it a night. In our daily lives I am generally the activity director, but here, where I need to be free to float in the creative current, it is nice to let him do the “driving”. I have been referring to him as my handler. You'd have to know us to appreciate the irony. Consider the tiger, and its tail.

We did get good rest in Dublin, but last night I tossed and turned in our new hotel bed, and am feeling pretty fuzzy right now. I have to figure out what I am reading tonight, and I’m finding it hard to focus. There has been a tug of war going on my soul between the mother and the poet. The mother is finding it hard to turn it over.

The sun has broken through. Maybe I’ll go for a walk along the quay.


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