Having moved back to the farm after seeing Paris (or it’s less chique Irish counterpart) I resolved with firm acceptance that I was in danger of labouring myself with what in city terms may well be considered a less cultured way of life. However, besides the obvious difference in size it occurred to me that the ‘living beyond the pale’ reputation that we ‘culchies’ love to loath was inexorably being sustained by a number of unfavourable elements that sully what could otherwise be considered decent civilisation.
No sooner had I graced the one trick attraction that is my home town in the west of Ireland with my presence then I noticed a rather tiresome delay in traffic flow. Considering the possibility that the completed bypass had not indeed resulted in reducing traffic congestion, after two years in the big smoke I was painfully reminded of life in the country side by Joe the farmer delivering a bail to Morris O shannanigans in his 1955 Massey Ferguson turbo boasting a top speed of 5 miles an hour and a driver whose attitude to every other atom around him was as oblivious as Bin Ladens whereabouts.
Like a woman whose man is so mistrusting that she might as well just ride the gardener anyway it has come crashing home with resounding effect that while certain members of our so called society continue to tarnish what could yet be an otherwise appealing metropolitan existence we may as well just continue to accept our fate and drag our knuckles with our more classically challenged rural neighbours. After all they own the shoutguns!!!
The Coin is however glad of the incentive to go travelling…
No sooner had I graced the one trick attraction that is my home town in the west of Ireland with my presence then I noticed a rather tiresome delay in traffic flow. Considering the possibility that the completed bypass had not indeed resulted in reducing traffic congestion, after two years in the big smoke I was painfully reminded of life in the country side by Joe the farmer delivering a bail to Morris O shannanigans in his 1955 Massey Ferguson turbo boasting a top speed of 5 miles an hour and a driver whose attitude to every other atom around him was as oblivious as Bin Ladens whereabouts.
Like a woman whose man is so mistrusting that she might as well just ride the gardener anyway it has come crashing home with resounding effect that while certain members of our so called society continue to tarnish what could yet be an otherwise appealing metropolitan existence we may as well just continue to accept our fate and drag our knuckles with our more classically challenged rural neighbours. After all they own the shoutguns!!!
The Coin is however glad of the incentive to go travelling…
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