The Dingle Way

In celebration of St. Patrick's Day today, I wanted to raise a pint to honor Ireland. I've learned a lot from my trips to the Dingle Peninsula, so much so that I set three of my four YA novels there. What is it about the air along the cliffs that makes me feel as if I am breathing for the first time?
On our first trip, James and I spent a good portion of a morning trying to find the Dingle Way, a marked trail which traverses the entire peninsula. After driving the sub-compact down every dirt path in search of the Dingle Way, even having our bumper attacked by two rowdy border collies, we gave up. To our left was an awe-inspiring cliff with a sheer drop down to the Atlantic Ocean. Seeing it, I knew I had to climb that peak, so we parked the car and headed up. The wind, the mist, the sheep manure, and finally the payoff: a view that nearly made me weep. On our way back to the car, James noticed a sign to our right-- the marker for the Dingle Way. We laughed and decided that what we had just done, creating our own path, was truly the Dingle Way. Slainte!

A Spotty Dog Moment

One of the best pints I've had on this side of the pond was this past weekend at the Spotty Dog on Warren Street in Hudson. Housed in an old firehouse, this independent bookstore has everything-- including a well-stocked art supply section and local beer on tap. It reminded me a great deal of Dingle, Ireland, where many of the stores serve as pubs at night. Dick Mack's doubles as a shoe maker, Foxy John's is hardware by day, heck even the town's seamstress works the taps at night. How efficient is that, two functions in one building? Yet the Spotty Dog tops them all with an excellent selection of books and a spot for tagalong kids to play a game of snakes and ladders. After buying an architecture book and a beautiful calligraphy pen, James and I saddled up to our pints and marveled at the genius of the place.