That Unconceivable Line

I am a dripped trail of bitumen, defining the scored ground between Tyrone’s potholes and their Donegal cousins. I am a stream, clogged with black silage-wrap, dead sheep and discarded Coca-Cola bottles. I am the hunched hoodie in the Diesel Stop, two hundred yards inside the Republic, the thirty eggs for £3 or €4, whichever […]

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Broken Irish – Mo seachtain na gaelige anseo

I’ve just spent a week at Oideas Gael learning Irish in the valley of Glencolmcille… these are my memories… sheimhius, fadas, focloir and grammar corrections welcome… Mo seachtain na gaelige anseo Lá A Haon “Dia duit,” she said. The fear (no not that one) sweat-beaded his forehead Declensions, verbs and conjugations clustered ‘neath his brow Cases clattered, […]

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