Poetry and music and lots of lovely chats..........

We are all enjoying our Listowel Writer’s week. Today went swimmingly. I attended the lovely Marina Carr’s workshop of writing for theatre and was surrounded by lots of interesting people. Each with our own tale to tell. We talked of internal monologues, of Shakespeare, of Pinter and Strindberg, Lorca and Friel. All surnames because they need no other name to identify them or their work. Of course they are their work. We banged about ideas, some so light and elusive that they slipped away before I could grasp them and study – see them for what they wee, break them down and build them back into a pattern that satisfied me. There are a few actors on the course and they livened things with their interpretations of our work..

Jemser was taken to play the most beautiful golf course in Ireland in Ballybunion by the son of our landlady. He had a great day. He said he felt he had never ever played a golf course until today. And he played well. Which always helps.

Son#2 and pal – once the hair was straightened - did Mick Hanly’s songwriting workshop – Mick aided and abetted by Micky McConnell, two of the best songwriters in Ireland, nay – the world. The boys had a blast and are fully geed up for tomorrow – a little tired from too much alcohol last night and the nervous strain of busking for an hour on Main Street this afternoon. Me heart was fit to bust with pride. They earned a few bob – more than the minimum wage and it’s untaxed of course so they’re quids in. Can you say that anymore? Should it be Euro in? Doesn’t have the same ring to it.

Son #2 and cousin played X- box in the am and in the pm I took them out to Ballybunion where they played in the breakers – ‘twas deadly they said. But of course they wanted to go after half an hour because ‘there’s, like, nothing to do’. I bring them all the way to the county Kerry, give them the Atlantic Ocean and there’s nothing to do. And don’t you just hate it when your mother’s voice instead of you comes out! Anyway we headed back to Listowel and I fed and watered them. They enjoyed rambling around the town, highfived John B.’s statue and bought expensive plastic crap in a shop (their own money) which within the hour they were sorry they had spent.

So that’s it. I’m off to see Mick Hanly gigging in the Saddle Bar. Are yiz jealous?