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breeden
ursulav

Blarney Castle Journal





The song my grandmother used to sing was a terribly mangled version of Did Your Mother Come From Ireland? Grandma liked Bing Crosby. The fact that I have now both kissed the Blarney and visited Kilarney would impress her to no end.

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There was in 2001, anyway. I looked at him, looked at me, and looked at the gap...thought, "Probably wouldn't fit, so if I fall, I might not pull him with me."...and got on with the rock-kissing. Dude looked like he wouldn't've minded the change of pace if I'd fallen but since I hadn't, could I please just move along?

I fear that he has been replaced by a somewhat sturdier gentleman who says "Kiss the Blarney stone!" in bored tones.

Then I said "The blue one?" and we had conversation about the relative color of geology that I would have enjoyed much more if my ass had not been dangling over empty space.

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