Donegal

 

On the express bus northward. I could have stayed in Donegal a lot longer. It's been magical, and I felt at ease. If Ballina reminded me of Denmark, and Sligo Australia, Donegal felt like...Wales. it was soft- if you fell over you'd be cushioned.  There was a real magic there. Wales for me is full of kind women who've seen beyond the sometimes odd way I present, and go straight into real talk. Maybe it isn't like that in general...but that's who I've met there. And so it was in Donegal.

I went straight on the bus to Kilcar, to do a real proper pilgtimage. The wonderful Maureen had agreed to give me a tour of the factory at Donegal Yarns- the second of the three large woollen mills still left on the island. The sounds! The machinery! The colours! The way everyone looked up and beamed when they saw it was Maureen going past. That was really special to see, and to feel. I met Nora, the woman behind the fantastic colours they use here. I've used their yarn in loads of projects- it's a unique pallette. I saw all of the processes and felt very connected. Some of the machines wete really old, with beautiful wood and ceramic parts. Others were just impressive and I could have watched again and again.

Next door is Studio Donegal, who produce knitting yarn from the mill, along with several other yarn companies. But it's Studio Donegal that I've used most often and I always keep in stock. I met the lovely gentle Tristan, and got some gorgeous pink (as that's what both Maureen's and my eyes kept being drawn to), and some purple in honour of Nora. It's her favourite colour and she was bemoaning the fact that you can't find purple clothes very much. It's a frustration I totally understand. I've often bemoaned the fact that looking for trousers, it's a bit- oh you don't like navy? How about beige? Is it Pulp Fiction where they proudly announce 'We have both kinds of music: country and western!'? I prefer soul music, so I get beige and dye. But Nora agreed that she has the best office in the world- a wall of zillions of shades of raw and processed yarn. Magic.

Back to Donegal town and just the loveliest air bnb. Kate and Michael were so kind, interested and they thought of everything. It's just out of town. The birdsong at 10 pm and again at 5am were wonderful. I've still got my head full of problems...but they don't seem half as bad now. I know people think of a lot of message wall art is tacky, and I guess sometimes it is. But there was a piece on the wall that I really needed to see yesterday:

There are good ships and wood ships, ships that sail the sea. But the best of all are friendships, and may they always be. 

Amen. It's my friendships where we share strength and support- and for me it's where I've found true acceptance in life. Maybe another cheesy line, but I think there's a lot of truth in the saying that friends are those that love you, even though they know you. 

In the morning, my wonderful host onsisted on dropoing me into town where I visited Morna's Patch. Such a delightful shop. She's an inspiration. We talked about avoiding the news- being shouted by the telly about alm the terrible things we can't do anything about, and giving oxygen to those people that say they care but just want our attention. We just don't see all the many millions of wonderful stories of peopme who decide that they will make a difference in their own corners of the world. Morna teaches kids knitting and sewing, running several courses a year and a summer craft camp. What a brilliant thing- a skill, a joy, a coping strategy. These kids will grow up with that, and they get to keep it forever.

Donegal Town is beautiful too. I wandered aimlessly, and then I meditated by the river. I needed to. And the waters understood the thoughts I was letting pass by. I felt I was allowed to feel if you know what I mean? I've got family roots here too. My dad's grandma, Kate Queen, was from here, and was a piano teacher, just like my sister. How and why she didn't stay in Ireland all her life is a story best told when I get to Derry, or Belfast even.

Bus was very late, so met some nice folk at the bus stop. It was easy. That's not always the case. I would bet that on Donegal, it most often is. Thank you Donegal! 

And then, I realised i still had a bit more. Got off the bus at Killea, just before the border with Derry. I met the lovely Bernadette in her bright amd airy shop  with big tables. Because she teaches every day, knitting and crochet. Ws talked about that- something we both do. Life's tough. Sharing helps. I realise I've had 2 biscuits all day and stop for a full breakfast at 3pm. A song comes on that I never thought in a million years would mean something to me. James Blunt, Wisemen. I ask myself where I am now, and I know. And I am travelling solo, and sometimes I've felt very lonely on life lately. I lost my brother last year. It's fucking hard. But I think of just the last 28 hours: Maureen, Nora, Tristan, Morna, Bernadette, the Irish/Finnish couple at the bus stop, the cool Belfast girl who told me I didn't look like a knitter, she thought I was a dj. I'm not alone.