July, 1999
Idyllic childhood on an Irish family farm; backbreaking work, plenty of fresh air, surprisingly sentimental care of farm animals. Yet, a depressing place for any adults, especially men, who happen not to want to be farmers. Lone bachelors living in their parents' homes, who simply die one summer. No fuss, no doctors.
Here the last vestiges of day to day medievalism die out in Ireland only in the 1950s. They are still taking their wheat to the mill while dancing to Nat King Cole. Beautiful and strange.
Sunday, November 15, 2009
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