An Irish Tragedy

There was a story in the news last year that has stayed with me for its tragedy and cruelty… not just for those who lost their lives but for the one who was left behind. The names have been changed.

Kate had inherited a farm in County Cork from her family and lived there with her husband, Padraig and two grown sons, Michael and Sean. The family didn’t work the farm themselves but leased the land out to local farmers. The two sons had attended university and were working in their respective careers in nearby towns. Kate was experiencing a health issue and needed to have an operation from which she would need time to recover. She had recently made her will, just in case.

There were signs that things weren’t too good at home. Rather than come back to the farm after the surgery, Kate elected to stay with friends along with her older son Michael, who would nurse her back to health. When, finally she was well enough to come home, she and Michael returned to the farm where Padraig and Sean were waiting. After dinner and a bit of television, Kate went to bed early.

In the early morning, with the sun just coming up, Kate awoke to the sound of gunshots. Terrified, she ran from the room and found Michael in his bed, covered in blood. Neither Padraig nor Sean were in the house. In a panic, she fled to her nearest neighbor who called the police. When they arrived, they found Michael dead and began to search the farm for the two missing men.

They found Padraig and Sean in one of the fields. Both men were dead and a shotgun lay between them. A lengthy note was found on the body of Sean. In it he detailed the anger that he and his father felt at the favoritism Kate showed to her older son. They knew what she had written in her will. She had left the farm to Michael. It was never clear who shot whom, but the father and son had formed a murder suicide pact. And the note said, they had agreed to let Kate live so that she would live out her life in suffering over the loss of her beloved Michael.

In this strange and twisted tale, two men got their revenge but they paid in the most extreme and pointless way. Sparing a life just to provoke and prolong suffering and grief. And now, nobody gets the farm.

Lockdown Paintings (38, 39, 40 & 41)

Ireland has given me lovely scenes to paint. I’ve had to rely on photos since we’ve been under a 5km [3 mile] limit on travel since December. But now we are free to move about so I hope to get to see more of my adopted country this summer. Here are some of my latest pieces —the only creative things I’ve indulged in during the last few months.

The Cliffs of Moher in miniature
The Long Walk, Galway

Where to begin… (again)

Wow, it has really been a while. Like since September of 2020.

I have been at a creative loss all these long months. Other than a few paintings, I have found myself unable to produce anything else. I will blame lockdown, yes absolutely. I know some people have used this time to enable them to embark on new hobbies, new projects and educating themselves in avenues of exploration they never had time for previously. Not so me. The long months of lockdown — Ireland is just opening up now— have kept the ideas from forming. And yes, there were ideas, but ones I could never seem to bring to completion. And I hate trying to write something for which I know not the conclusion. So they stayed in the imagination or maybe with a note or two jotted in my trusty notebook.

I haven’t even had the motivation to add posts to my blog. Even that much writing felt too overwhelming. I have probably lost many of my old friends as I never kept up with reading here either. That makes me sad. I have no one to blame but myself. Still, I am a writer. That is what I tell people I do. But what is a not writing writer? A monster courting insanity so says Kafka.

I still don’t have any ideas fully formed to conclusion, but I need to get started somehow, somewhere. And that place is here. So in the coming days I will begin again. Maybe with some stories of life here in Ireland. I won’t bore you with the dreary months of lockdown —everyone is sick to death of talking about the pandemic. But I will try and give you a glimpse of life on this island with all its charm and eccentricities. I hope you will like it and I hope it gets me back on track. The possibility of writing something, anything might be the spark this monster courting insanity needs to keep the craziness at bay.

Oh and if you wonder how I spent this time? Reading, podcasts and more reading. A true gem of a discovery has been the Irish History Podcast produced and narrated by Fin Dwyer. I have learned so much about my adopted country this way. If you have interest in Ireland and its history both ancient and modern, I heartily recommend you check out the link to the podcast.

Until next time, cheers and best wishes.