Immortality and noteriety are the two reasons why Ed Calkins, the Steward of Tara, agreed to become an Irish vampire in Bryony. This makes Ed the first "real" Irish vampire, since Ireland has no distinct vampire mythology (until now).
In the selection below, Tommy Connolly, a member of the Bryony team, shares the memorable trip to Ireland with his father. The trip had but one mission--to seek out and visit a town named Connolly--but for Tommy, it alsoincluded a spontaneous decision to begin building his own family legacy.
Tommy is a recovering alcoholic; he blogs about his experiences at http://www.tommyconnolly.blogspot.com/. He plans to release a collection of those blogs, Soul Parole: Making Peace with my Mind, God, and Myself, in December.
On February 21, 2002, my Father and I left for a seven day trip toIreland.
We weren't in for the touristy side of the country, so we rented a car and started driving. We leftDublin with only one planned point on the trip and that was to visit the town of CONNOLLY in County Clare Dublin Ireland America
The "Ring of Kerry" winds and climbs along route N-70 on the southwest coast of the Emerald Isle. I loved everything about the awe-inspiring island. The coast was like heaven. Every fifty feet was a spectacular panorama of peat bogs, inlets, hills, fields, stone fences, and breathtaking flowers. The vastAtlantic lay beyond. God truly was inspired when He painted Ireland
Driving takes exceptional skill for visitors and townsfolk alike. Sheep run free on the roads in herds, color-coated so the owners can recognize their stock. When driving on the opposite side of the road, there are no railings or shoulders, but plenty of deep cutting cliffs and slopes. If you slide off the shoulder, eternity will greet you. There are also roadside chapels, painstakingly crafted, in the middle of nowhere, with amazingly ornate statues and seats for prayer. Those driving past can give praise for the beauty or, at least, thanks for making it around the sheep.
We moved through the last few days of our adventure and stopped in a tiny coastal town called Sneem, population six hundred. Here wasIreland
As we parked our "smart car" sized Renault in front of the pub of my father's choice, there wasn't a soul to be found. Nothing, nobody, zippo. It was like that ghost town in the Brady Bunch episode with Jim Backus (Mr. Magoo and Thurston Howell the Third) as the crazy miner. Thank God, Mr. Brady was able to knock the jail cell key down with that rope of belts. Ooh! I get the chills remembering the intrigue and ingenuity of Father Brady.
Anyway, there was no one around and we walked from colorful shop to colorful shop. All were trimmed in bright reds, brilliant greens, and other eye-catching hues…and all were locked. We returned to the car and sat perplexed at the silence. It was as if the whole town vanished. We were planning to move down the road when, at the end of the main street, we heard the gong of a church bell. Gong!......Gong!......Gong! The doors flung open, and the whole town spilled into the street right where we sat awestruck. Someone had died, and I think all six hundred townspeople attended the funeral. They scurried back to their shops and continued their business in the colorful town.
We asked for directions to the best bed and breakfast and drove back to check in. It was a quaint home with a spectacular view of a lake and the ocean beyond. I could have stayed there forever. We returned to the pub for dinner. I have mixed emotions by confessing I only had nonalcoholic beer inIreland
Dad enjoyed a few beers, but the country, as a whole, intoxicated me. The people, sights, and charm of the Emerald Isle live up to the hype. Still very much sober and full of nonalcoholic beer, I told my dad I was going exploring. That expedition was a street of about a quarter mile. At the end of the way was a typical English phone booth, bright red and stark sitting on the edge of Sneem. I walked toward the booth and saw it butted against a tiny bridge with a bubbling creek snaking and crawling underneath and through the idyllic village.
As I followed the course of the river, it flowed gracefully into a lake, then into the ocean beyond. Even though it was ten o’clock, sunlight still cracked through the skies above. The vision magnificently burned in my mind. I thought of my roommate, partner in crime, and best friend sleeping soundly back in the states. She was everything I had ever pictured and my perfect foil. Where I was weak, she was strong. When I was miffed, she was relaxed. She was a great mother, and I wanted to spend the rest of my life with her. We had been living together longer than my three other marriages combined, and I was inspired by the moment’s beauty and grace.
I can be impulsive. It comes with my nature. It was four o’clock in the morning back at home, and I knew Squeaky wouldn't be waking for another hour, but I was consumed. I was driven! I felt my heart leap and sing that THIS was the moment, even though I was an ocean away from her. I dialed the states direct, and she answered the phone slightly startled, and a wee irritated, by the early morning call. She accepted the charges, and I rambled endlessly about the beauty of Sneem and the events of the day. After a few minutes of rambling like a kid who downed a bowl of sugar, my focus returned to my mission.
I started to sob as I confessed my unwavering love for her and the kids. I said the magic words: "Will you marry me?" She began sobbing too, the good sobbing of course. Her first response was, "Are you serious?" I gushed as tears spilled around me and shouted, "YES! I have never been more sure of anything!" She shot back excitedly, "You traveled toIreland
God I loveIreland
In the selection below, Tommy Connolly, a member of the Bryony team, shares the memorable trip to Ireland with his father. The trip had but one mission--to seek out and visit a town named Connolly--but for Tommy, it alsoincluded a spontaneous decision to begin building his own family legacy.
Tommy is a recovering alcoholic; he blogs about his experiences at http://www.tommyconnolly.blogspot.com/. He plans to release a collection of those blogs, Soul Parole: Making Peace with my Mind, God, and Myself, in December.
On February 21, 2002, my Father and I left for a seven day trip to
We weren't in for the touristy side of the country, so we rented a car and started driving. We left
The "Ring of Kerry" winds and climbs along route N-70 on the southwest coast of the Emerald Isle. I loved everything about the awe-inspiring island. The coast was like heaven. Every fifty feet was a spectacular panorama of peat bogs, inlets, hills, fields, stone fences, and breathtaking flowers. The vast
Driving takes exceptional skill for visitors and townsfolk alike. Sheep run free on the roads in herds, color-coated so the owners can recognize their stock. When driving on the opposite side of the road, there are no railings or shoulders, but plenty of deep cutting cliffs and slopes. If you slide off the shoulder, eternity will greet you. There are also roadside chapels, painstakingly crafted, in the middle of nowhere, with amazingly ornate statues and seats for prayer. Those driving past can give praise for the beauty or, at least, thanks for making it around the sheep.
We moved through the last few days of our adventure and stopped in a tiny coastal town called Sneem, population six hundred. Here was
As we parked our "smart car" sized Renault in front of the pub of my father's choice, there wasn't a soul to be found. Nothing, nobody, zippo. It was like that ghost town in the Brady Bunch episode with Jim Backus (Mr. Magoo and Thurston Howell the Third) as the crazy miner. Thank God, Mr. Brady was able to knock the jail cell key down with that rope of belts. Ooh! I get the chills remembering the intrigue and ingenuity of Father Brady.
Anyway, there was no one around and we walked from colorful shop to colorful shop. All were trimmed in bright reds, brilliant greens, and other eye-catching hues…and all were locked. We returned to the car and sat perplexed at the silence. It was as if the whole town vanished. We were planning to move down the road when, at the end of the main street, we heard the gong of a church bell. Gong!......Gong!......Gong! The doors flung open, and the whole town spilled into the street right where we sat awestruck. Someone had died, and I think all six hundred townspeople attended the funeral. They scurried back to their shops and continued their business in the colorful town.
We asked for directions to the best bed and breakfast and drove back to check in. It was a quaint home with a spectacular view of a lake and the ocean beyond. I could have stayed there forever. We returned to the pub for dinner. I have mixed emotions by confessing I only had nonalcoholic beer in
Dad enjoyed a few beers, but the country, as a whole, intoxicated me. The people, sights, and charm of the Emerald Isle live up to the hype. Still very much sober and full of nonalcoholic beer, I told my dad I was going exploring. That expedition was a street of about a quarter mile. At the end of the way was a typical English phone booth, bright red and stark sitting on the edge of Sneem. I walked toward the booth and saw it butted against a tiny bridge with a bubbling creek snaking and crawling underneath and through the idyllic village.
As I followed the course of the river, it flowed gracefully into a lake, then into the ocean beyond. Even though it was ten o’clock, sunlight still cracked through the skies above. The vision magnificently burned in my mind. I thought of my roommate, partner in crime, and best friend sleeping soundly back in the states. She was everything I had ever pictured and my perfect foil. Where I was weak, she was strong. When I was miffed, she was relaxed. She was a great mother, and I wanted to spend the rest of my life with her. We had been living together longer than my three other marriages combined, and I was inspired by the moment’s beauty and grace.
I can be impulsive. It comes with my nature. It was four o’clock in the morning back at home, and I knew Squeaky wouldn't be waking for another hour, but I was consumed. I was driven! I felt my heart leap and sing that THIS was the moment, even though I was an ocean away from her. I dialed the states direct, and she answered the phone slightly startled, and a wee irritated, by the early morning call. She accepted the charges, and I rambled endlessly about the beauty of Sneem and the events of the day. After a few minutes of rambling like a kid who downed a bowl of sugar, my focus returned to my mission.
I started to sob as I confessed my unwavering love for her and the kids. I said the magic words: "Will you marry me?" She began sobbing too, the good sobbing of course. Her first response was, "Are you serious?" I gushed as tears spilled around me and shouted, "YES! I have never been more sure of anything!" She shot back excitedly, "You traveled to
God I love
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