In a small private room in the 'Smugairle Róin' last night, I was counting a gorgeous, attractive bottles, on a glass shelf in front of me, and putting together the complicated affairs of life, when I was quite stunned. When I came to myself, I realized that someone was knocking on the door of the 'Caillí' (that's the small private room I mentioned just now) trying to come in to me. From the kind of noise being made, I realized instantly that it was my old friend, Séimí an Droichid, who was there for me.

"Come in" I said, nice and welcoming.

The door was opened, and my fine Séimí appeared before me. It was easy to recognize that the poor man was sick with the cold, and for that reason, I asked him to plant himself on the stool in front of me, next to the radiator, and I immediately informed the bar person (Tóin Mhór himself), and asked him to provide me with a good batch of the hard stuff immediately for my friend. He obliged me, and I have to admit that the same man went out of hhis way to serve us. Sémí grabbed his glass. He raised it before him, and then, without further delay, swallowed the contents. He laid his empty glass on the table in front of him, cleared his throat, put on his speaking voice and asked, did I have a story or a poem, after the week?

Any news?

"I have ne’er a story or a ballad myself," said I, "but I would say that you did not go out this way tonight without a story, or a ballad." Maybe you could drop a story out of your story bag?”

"Certainly, I did not come out of our house without a story, or a story, tonight, as it would be difficult to do such a thing, these days, with so many yaarns being woven, and spun, from the big life around us.”

"Let loose then, some of the lore you have collected recently".

"But, shouldn't we all pay attention to things, as that tells us, how quickly misfortune comes down on us, when we don't expect it. There are certain forces at work in these matters, forces over which we have no control, and also forces, which have strength and power in them, which affect us deeply."

"But probably, there were other events bothering us, recently?"

“Be sure there were, as when you think about it, how much life has changed since we were boys, long ago? At that time, weren’t the Church, and the Banks, and the police, the strong pillars of the defense of this State; they were especially persistent, efficient, and indestructible, as we understood it. But look at things as they are now? I am afraid that it has been made clear to the world that they are not the bastion as described, but instead, we have been discovered that they are weak, bent, human, those same strong pillars, on which we all depended."

The Impermanence of Life

"But, Sémí, isn't that your life? Nothing in this world is permanent but the grace of God.”

"I agree with you in that, or as Mártan the Bull put it a long time ago, 'There is no certainty in this world except death, taxes, and the impermanence of this world'. Yes, and he was probably quite right about that. But, I would say now, that it is past time for me to move home, and therefore, we have to leave this matter parked until the next round. In the meantime, think about 'Chothrom na Féinne' in the Republic that was established here after the Easter Rising, 1916. And I'll bid you farewell for now."

And with that, my lovely Sémí, with blazing speed, cleared out of the Caillí at the Smugairle Róin.

"Saafe home" I said after him, although there was every possibility that he was out of earshot by then. But rest assured that we will be returning to that topic again soon.

.

.