Month: July 2026

Macdara O’Faolain, THe Corner House, Cork City, Co. Cork

James Hunter, The Corner House, Cork. Rick and Jorma, with their Sobell’s, Cork

Work In Progress, Instrument Maker Exhibition, Bantry, Co. Cork

James and Richie Tisdall, Session in flow and signage in the garden at Ma Murphy’s.

Instrument Makers Exhibition, Bantry, Cork. Cork

Session, Ma Murphy’s, Bantry, Co. Cork

Dining at Chestnut Tree, Ballydehob, Co. Cork

July 3, 2026

Mother Nature has proscribed some down time for us. How might this have occurred you ask? We got a nasty little cold that’s going around. James was feeling a bit snuffly but seemed to have shaken it. I felt a scratchy throat, so immediately went into “go away” mode, gargling with salt water, dosing up with vitamin C and zinc, getting extra sleep, etc. While James, Bridget, Morgan and most of the instrument makers went to a fancy restaurant Tuesday night I stayed home hoping to minimize the illness. Wednesday I felt like I was going to escape the worst of it. Noel Burke had purchased a block of seats for an evening concert featuring Seamus and Caoimhe Ui Fhlatharta (Seamus and Kweeva O’Flaherty). They grew up in the Sean Nos (oldest original style of Irish song) in Connemara. Their vocal blend is ethereal, precise and altogether beguiling. Seamus played harp, guitar, bodhran and low whistle and I wouldn’t be at all surprised if he plays other instruments. Caoimhe sings beautifully and played fiddle very prettily. Look them up where you stream your music and if you like it please support them by purchasing their album. During the concert I managed to sneeze only once but things weren’t feeling grand. Noel wanted to go to Ma Murphy’s for a few session tunes. The door was locked, it was 11:30 after all, but Noel and Noemie talked us in. I would have honestly preferred going back to our home but did my best to hang in there. The next morning I had a full blown cold. Then James’s came back and now Morgan has it as well. Forced rest, like it or not.

Yesterday we drove to Skibereen via Ballydehob then on to Clonakilty. The car full of us snuffling and coughing. Brothers and sister in sickness or in health. Skibereen had a good pharmacy where we availed ourselves of numerous remedies. Then on to Clonakilty because it has a distillery that makes some fine whiskey. We discovered it on our last trip because we rented a house in nearby Inchydoney. We have Jamesons for hot whiskies (medicinal purposes only, and by God it feels good on a suffering chest) but the Clonakilty is for pure enjoyment. We picked up dinner ingredients and James rose to the occasion and made us chicken vegetable soup. By the time we finished dinner we were all done in, useless for tunes, so we went to bed.

July 3-4

Our last day in Cork was spent driving out along the peninsula our rental lay on, Mizen Head. It was a foggy day and little could be seen looking out toward the sea, but the flowers were blooming, fuchsias everywhere, hedges full of their bright purplish/pink faces. My partner and her friend Leela named the color pinkle and that expresses it perfectly. The hydrangeas over here are enormous, blue, pink and white heads of enormous size. Enormous rhododendrons, no longer in bloom, butterfly bush that make our specimens at home seem like undernourished country cousins. The flora of West Cork is special, its proximity to the Gulf Stream grants it weather that is unique in all of Ireland. It allows for species of palm to grow as well as the banana plant that’s in the garden of our rental, you’ll see green and flowering plants that can’t survive anywhere else in this part of the world. It’s an explosion of green growing beauty. We drove all the way out to the the tip of the Sheep’s Head, to Mizen Head itself, a rugged windswept place where many a ship has foundered in its long history. James and Bridget took the tour of it while Morgan and I stayed in the coffee shop studying the nautical chart that served as decoration of the table where we sat. You’d have to be a real sailor to take to the water around this spot of coast. Hidden rocks just below the surface, treacherous currents, its beautiful in a forbidding sort of way. Morgan patiently explained the details we were looking at on the nautical chart, he grew up sailing with his father and then later solo or with friends. I love learning, I’m a sponge for knowledge and listening to Morgan’s knowledge of sailing on large bodies of water, being able to navigate with light houses, buoys and radio beacons…. I was captivated. What another world within the world!

That evening we’d agreed to play another session at Ma Murphy’s. We met Noel and the rest of the instrument makers at the school house exhibition for pizza, wine and craic and then off we went to Ma Murphy’s. We arrived before Noel and scoped out the small room but it was already full so we decamped to another area to await the rest to show up. The large room that we’d played in earlier in the week was empty and once Noel arrived some discussion ensued but we eventually decided the large room might suit our purposes better. We claimed the south end of the room, moved tables and chairs to suit us. Richie Tisdall’s sister Mary showed up, we’d missed playing with her earlier in the week, long with Seamus who plays box and Mary’s husband Tom who is a fine flute player. All three are good musicians. Tunes started and then more people drifted in. Niall, who plays a mean fiddle, a couple of violinists who’d been playing classical music  in the Cork Festival, who likely grew up as fiddlers. Then Mick who grew up in east end London and has the accent to prove it came in with his banjo and guitar. His parents were Irish and it sounds like he’s moved back to West Cork for good. Then Tyler the American we’d played with over the weekend came in and added to the mix. It didn’t take long for the people in the yard to hear the tunes and soon the place was hopping. The cold I’d acquired had ground me down, so two hours in I was running low. We headed back to the house around 12:30.

Saturday, July 4

We drove into Bantry, stopped by the school house to say goodbye to Noel, Niall, Conor, Andrew and Pia, Adam and Melina, Noemi, Lauri, Eric, and Kees. Jeremie left the day before. Many of them Morgan knew well and some participants were new to him. For Bridget, James and I they were all new acquaintances yet within a week they felt like friends. An array of talent and creativity that we were lucky to be part of.

Noel told us that on our way North we must stop at Mannings? Food Emporium, that they had an amazing array of local and regional cheeses and other foods. He’s correct it’s amazing. We had some of the best coffee and a small pastry, bought a few items and then back in the car and continued north. The character of the land changed slowly and we crossed the Beara and Ring of Kerry. We’d been told about a small island named Garinish and decided to visit it. It’s located in Glengarriff Bay. The town of Glengarriff is a very picturesque village. We took a small ferry boat with others out to the island and stepped onto a beautiful garden island. John Annan Bryce from Belfast purchased the islet in 1910. Scottish gardener Murdo Mackenzie is the one  who took a barren rocky little island and through ingenuity and composting created enough soil to plant species from all over the world. There are Formosan (Taiwanese) redwood trees, huge Mexican pines, trees from South Africa, New Zealand and other places in the world. Palms, ferns, flowering species from all over the planet. He started the project in the 1920’s and it was later acquired by a trust who employed Mr. Mackenzie to continue his work. He died in the 1980’s. The weather was in the 70’s with sun and bright blue skies. We had tea and a snack in the coffee shop, returned to our car and finally reached Dingle. We always have fond memories of the Foley’s, and Inch and stopped in. We wanted to spend some time with John, Fidelis, Katy and family but due to James’s retirement and other scheduling issues we came in the middle of high season. The Foley’s were very busy, so we had a quick hello and went to find our rental in Annascaul. The map led us West toward Dingle Town and when we arrived at the intersection where we have always turned West towards Dingle, instead we turned right, which we’d never done in the past only to discover a tidy village that we’d never realized was there. As James stated, a small village with four pubs, that spoke to something. 

We’d told the Foley’s we’d come play tunes and drove over and had just brought our instruments in when a whirlwind of humanity poured through the door. A large bus filled with footballers and their kids filled the space and we realized the chance for a quiet place to play music wasn’t going to happen. We sat out back to finish our pints, and had a very pleasant chat with a local man, who’s son was playing with Katy’s daughter. Morgan went to tell the fellow behind the bar to let John know we’d stop by in the morning and went back to Annascaul. As we were leaving we saw Katy and had a good chat with her. Told her we’d return tomorrow morning an bid her goodnight.

 Morgan had scoped out the pubs and thought one in particular might prove interesting. It was the only one where music was part of its statement. It’s called Hanafins and a sign in front states that “it’s worth the hike”. We walked up with our instruments, put them to the side, sat down, ordered whiskey and chatted with the proprietor John. Another man sitting to the side named Peter joined in. Soon we were deep in conversation, sipping on Skellig whiskey, and enjoying the banter. The way you can drop in with perfect strangers and have them quickly not feel like strangers is a main reason we return here. After 30 minutes or so we noticed that John had turned off the sound from the TV at the back of the room, it was Brazil vs Norway and finally said, “so, are you going to play your instruments?” We like the rhythm of these encounters, of the order of things in an Irish pub. We uncased our instruments and launched into a set, John, Peter and a few patrons listened politely and applauded when we finished. Soon a few more people came in and we played until closing time. Unlike many pubs we’ve played in the patrons spoke quietly and really were listening, it doesn’t get better than that. James gave John and a woman named Fiona copies of The Smokers Cut. Fiona was very appreciative and said that hearing the tunes is one of her favorite things. It was a perfect evening, a chance for us to play in a quiet setting to people who appreciated our love of the music. We’ll be back the next time we’re over. It was worth the hike.

July 6-7

After Dingle we head North to visit our old friends Tom, Maureen and Martina Neilan. Those of you who’ve read the blogs from other years know that The Neilan family have been a touchstone for us. We first met them in 2014 and have been in touch with them ever since. We’ve never failed to visit each trip. From the first they’ve treated us like family, have folded us into their lives with family announcements, etc. The last two times we’ve visited, Tommy has been in hospital, this being the tall, strong man who’d run the farm, greeted us with jokes and tunes and always with a warm smile. So, with that background, we found ourselves pulling into the farm to find out that Tommy was in hospital once again. He’d only gone in a few days before our arrival. Martina greeted us warmly and Maureen was glad to see us. Also visiting were a couple who live in West Cork, Mary and Seamus. Martina met them through a prayer group that meets in memory of those who’ve died in the struggle to unite all of Ireland. Mary’s brother Thomas McElwee died in the hunger strike at Long Kesh prison in 1981. He was a member of the IRA, during the troubles and meeting his sister once again reinforced, for me, how those dark times effected so many families in Ireland. 

Martina graciously fed us all with dinner and we had good conversations. Seamus and Mary were heading south toward Cork after dinner and in that time we were all invited to visit with them on our next visit. Seamus looked us seriously and stated, in regards to the invitation “a promise made is a debt unpaid”. Martina showed us to our rooms. James, Bridget and Morgan decided to visit Noemi (from the violin exhibit) in Corofin, not far from Shenaglish, to meet her partner and play some tunes. I begged off, the chest cold needed to be dealt with, and I wanted to work on the blog. I love the tunes and playing them but sometimes health has to be placed above pleasure. Martina graciously made up a fire in the sitting room and Molly, the farm dog joined me while I finished Goodbye Cork. I made my way upstairs and read myself to sleep.

July 7

The next morning we all caught up with the nights activities. They had met Noemi at her partner’s parents home in Corofin. He’s named Cathal, a nice young man, plays a good banjo and his parents were gracious hosts. Morgan told me that after they’d arrived Cathal’s father came in from the farm, hands black from a days work and chatted for quite some time. They spent most of the time visiting and didn’t play that many tunes, yet had a good time.

We decided that we’re going to drive to Galway City and visit Tommy at the hospital. At his age anything can happen. We fervently hope that we see him at the farm on our next visit, but nothing’s guaranteed in this life, so off to the hospital. Martina wasn’t clear re. visiting hours so when we arrived near 1:00pm we learned that visits were between 2:00 and 4:00. After a coffee at the hospital canteen we walked a few blocks to the the cathedral. It’s a 20th century design and construction yet quite impressive. The floors and dome above are of Connemara marble, which contains beautiful hues of green. After some time admiring the beauty we headed back to the hospital. Allowed admittance to the wing he’s on we waited until he was ready then surprised him. It took him a few seconds to register who were then that big open smile came to him and he launched in with a few jokes. He wasn’t sure when they were going to allow him home but he was improving. He was ready to lie down so we bid him farewell, although too short a time, we were glad that we visted.

North west out of the city we drove toward Clifden, hopefully to see our Irish friend from Spokane, Roisin and explore Connemara, which we’d never been to. The country is breathtaking, mountains that rival those in Cork and Kerry, sweeping vistas, Ireland is a gem. We’d rented a small section of a cottage, which at first look it felt great, 3 ensuite bedrooms nice location, but after one night we realized it suffered from damp. Significant damp, enough so that James and Bridget’s bed sheets were damp. Morgan’s was OK and my bed was fine but when I woke up the next morning the socks I’d left on the floor were wet. The old place must be like a lot of old cottages, a packed earth floor with no vapor barrier which had been overlaid with flooring. The moisture was wicking up. We all have a cold and are recovering but decided to come to our rental in Westport a day early. One more night in the damp wasn’t going to be good for any of us. We’d booked our Westport home with one overlapping day, so we were free to arrive earlier than planned. We never did visit with Roisin. We’ll have to wait until we’re all back in Spokane.

July 8-9

We drove into Westport late afternoon and it looked little changed since our last visit. The one thing that is different is the level of traffic and tourists. We’ve never visited this late in the season and now that James is retired from teaching we won’t have to again. We can come whenever we prefer. We found the rental home, which is tidy, warm and dry. Once established, and after a quick dinner, into Westport we went. I had a bit of an attitude regarding Matt Molloys after the last visit and was certain the place would be raging, the session loud and not much enjoyment attainable. We checked out The Porter House next to Molloy’s thinking Jackie Small might be leading a session, but there was only a lone guitarist setting up a mic stand. We thought it might be worth looking in at Molloy’s and Morgan went in on his own. He came out to report that Dan Delaney and Declan Askin were playing with a fiddler and bouzouki player and that once Dan saw Morgan he asked us to sit down with them. Hearing that there was already a bouzouki player I figured, eh! I’d be one too many but Morgan said, “go check it out for yourselves” so James and I ducked in and Dan saw us and said come in. I remarked that I had my bouzouki and they wouldn’t need two and Dan says, “yes we do!” So in we go, and boy, were we lucky. It was one of the better sessions we’ve had. Dan Delaney we met our first trip to Westport. He and Johnny Fadgin were leading at the old Bould Biddy’s. We met Declan back in 2018 when we heard him play and sing with Coda. He possesses a rich baritone voice and is a fine guitarist. The fiddler is named Aidan and the bouzouki player we’d met in the past, a man close to my age named Paddy. A young woman was sitting on Morgan’s right whose name I failed to register who plays flute. She’s 17 and won All Ireland Fleadh (a national music competition) when she was 15. After hearing her there’s little doubt to her ability, she’s phenomenal and has a command of the instrument and tunes that is uncanny for one so young.

The tunes that Dan and Eamon were calling were with few exceptions in our wheelhouse. There were a few tunes I was shaky on, so chose to listen. I passed Paddy my bouzouki and he handed me his. We played a set on each others instruments. His is quite a good one, hand built, and he was very complimentary of mine. Dan launched into a song Sheamaisin. He sang that the night we first met in 2012. We felt like the skies had opened and the clouds parted, welcoming us back. The young flute player started The Gold Ring, a tune we love and know so well. I automatically backed her, and noticed that no one else was playing. I thought for a moment “uh, oh am I committing a session etiquette error?” but Dan glanced at me with a look of pleasure so I continued. One time through and everyone joined in. We all loved that tune. The room had a lot of listeners and even though it grew loud at times we could hear one another well. The listeners encouraged us, complimented the playing and were generally respectful. We finished up close to 12:00. We were high with the energy and pleasure derived from playing tunes with kindred spirits. Dan has invited us to play with he and his wife again this evening at Molloy’s.

July 9

July 9

We drove into Westport a little before 9:00pm. Going into the side entrance to Molloy’s we met Dan’s wife Dearbhla. We knew that Dan had left the priesthood to marry but had never met his wife. She’s a warm and welcoming person a true compliment to Dan’s quiet contemplative nature. She told us about an art exhibit at the Old Customs House that a woman she knows is having. She and Dan had both been there before coming to set up for the session. There were already quite a few people waiting for it to start and we were waiting for the more modern and amplified band playing in the concert room to finish. Dan mentioned that he and Dearbhla were still working on the over 200 tune manuscript from the 1860”s that they’d found in the attic of one of his relatives homes. He told us about the manuscript when we last met two years ago, they’d just discovered it then. Photos of it show beautifully written staff notation in a small manuscript book. Whoever copied and preserved the tunes clearly valued them and put a lot of effort into it. It’s a precious resource and Dan and Darvala are planning on publishing it.

A tall man came by us with a mandolin and guitar case and Dan told me that his name is Brian and that he was playing with us. He is also a luthier and had built both instruments. That made me happy, I love speaking with other builders. We set up and started in. There were Dan and his wife Dearbhla, the young flute player Etienne from Wed. Night, Brian, the luthier, James, Morgan and I. Early on it was clear that this was going to be a very different session from last nights. There were a lot of people who had left the concert and stopped in our room, they’d were a pretty rowdy group. A group of women stopped just behind Morgan James and I and they had clearly been drinking. It turned out that they were primary school teachers who were partying with a friend who was leaving for Australia. They were quite chatty, one had learned whistle and kept wanting to borrow James’s. They weren’t being aggressive but they were sucking the energy their way. Dan and Darvala were doing their best to manage it all without being unpleasant. Fionn, Adan, Zeke, Amy, Harry and Ceilan showed up. They all came from the UK and USA to meet up here. Morgan mentioned that Fionn and Adan were newlyweds and Darvala in real Irish hospitality launched into Red Is The Rose the lyric is all about a man’s true love being the most beautiful of all. It was a very sweet moment. Dan apologized that the environment was so loud, but there was not much he could do. When the room became quiet for a song, the main bar area was roaring. We played through it all as best we could.

Brian and I exchanged contact info. We had visits with Maggie McGing and Tom and a few admirers. All in all it wqas a good session, very different than last nights but still fun.

July 10

James and Bridget are busy with family coming in from the UK and USA. We’re having a big party and ceili dance near Mulranny Saturday evening. Dan and Dearbhla are going to join us in providing the music, we’re excited about playing with them again.

In the meantime Morgan and I have a day to ourselves and since we’re close to Newport Morgan asks if I’d like to visit his bow making colleague and a friend to all of us, Gary Leahy. I like the idea and we figure we’ll stop at the chippy in Newport and have lunch before going to Gary’s. We pull ourselves together, and with Morgan driving we’re off to Newport. We’re in Newport in a few minutes, park and walk across the road only to discover that Fish and Chips aren’t available until 4:30. We’re in luck though, Grainne Uaile Pub is a few doors down and they have fabulous fish and chips. We find a table and order. The food is delicious, we take our time savoring the meal and drinking tea. When we get up to leave the couple at the table next to us enquire as to what brings us to Ireland. They’re from Chicago, she sounds Irish and they tell us they’d owned a home in the area for 20 years and recently sold it. They were looking for a place to rent. I resonated with their story, I’d estimate their ages to be in the early 80’s, and like Ally and I sharing ownership in a place in Mexico and selling to our partners, the complications of ownership at a distance and realizing it’s time to downsize catch up with you. They were a nice couple and we wished them well.

Out the north side of Newport, down some small roads and we’re out to Gary’s, sheep grazing in his front yard. No need for a lawn mower with them. Gary’s in his workshop and he comes out to greet us. We notice him limping a little and he tells us he’d had some surgery on his ankle and had gotten a secondary infection. He’d seen the doctor but he was sore and wasn’t getting a lot of work done as he was needing to keep his leg elevated. These fragile bodies of ours! It didn’t take long for discussions of bow making to come up. I’m not a bow maker but I do build instruments, so much of what’s being discussed is very interesting to me. In a nut shell, a violin bow is in itself a musical instrument. It vibrates and communicates with the instrument and the person using it. It has an optimal balance point and that is influenced by weight and the placement of where that weight is. I find it fascinating and grasp some of the basic principles. Bow makers like Morgan and Gary are artists in their own right. I view musical instruments as functional art and for me, what they do fulfills that definition. 

After a pleasant couple of hours we bid Gary goodbye, invite hime to join us tomorrow if his ankle will allow, Gary’s a fine fiddle player himself, and head back to our house.

We’re meeting everyone at the rental home that the Hunter-Green offspring have rented. Fionn’s wife Adan has family arriving and we’re having a communal dinner. A large part of extended family are there. Fionn, Adan, Zeke, Amy, Ceilan and Harry, James’s sisters Euphon and Alison, James, Bridget and arriving as we sit some of Adan’s large family from New Orleans and other parts of the USA. Soon the home is full of conversation and children. Soon it’s close to 9:00 and we’re on the hunt for a session. Morgan, James and I head into town and scout the session possibilities. Paddy from Wednesday night told us he’d be at Matt Molloy’s but we wanted to see what other possibilities were available. After checking out The Clock Tower, which had a nice session going, but it was a small space and it didn’t seem like crashing it would be a good idea, then Hoban’s, McCarthy’s and An File we decided Matt Molloy’s looked like the only possibility. Paddy very graciously told us they’d make room and soon we were seated in a very loud room with Peter Molloy, Matt’s son, Aidan, whom we played with Wednesday, Paddy, Padraig McKenna and a fiddler and whistle player whose names I didn’t get. The first set we estimate had 12 tunes. Most sets contain 3 or 4 tunes and then a short break and on to the next set. I’d never played a marathon set like that in any session. It was exhilarating. The crowd of listeners were a raucous group but thankfully we could hear Peter and Aidan almost all the time.

I looked over to my left and saw the man himself, Matt Molloy, the owner of the pub, Peter’s father and one of the most famous flute players in Ireland and the world. Member of The Chieftains, The Bothy Band and on hundreds of recordings with other artists and ensembles. We had the good fortune and pleasure of meeting and playing with Matt in 2014. Matt is instantly recognized and he graciously stands for some photos and then walks back to the bar area. A few minutes later Matt returns, flute in hand and sits next to Peter. OMG, we’re going to play with Matt, AGAIN! We played quite a few sets, Matt played a beautiful slow air, despite the racket from the back room, and James, Morgan and I pinched ourselves, for our good fortune and the pure enjoyment of sharing tunes with such great musicians. Fionn sang Arthur McBride, and I sang an uptempo Alan Tyne. We ended near 12:00, Peter told us we could continue if we wished, but we were as tired as he was, thanked he and Aidan and Paddy for letting us sit in and bid everyone a good night.