Barách Úi Bama Nation and Synthetic Hog Blood

Unlike Rush Limbaugh, An Teaghlach Mélchior watched and celebrated the inauguration of President Obama with about 100 American expats and about as many Irish nationals at the King’s Head Pub on High Street. What a place to be – an 800 year old pub with an open coal and turf fire heating the main room and a giant LCD television above the mantle. With a pint of the G in hand (or orange fizzies for Theo and Sam), we toasted and cheered with the crowd. It’s amazing how closely the Irish followed this election. Not surprising, I suppose, because they all consider him part of the Irish diaspora since his great-great-grandad was from Monygall in Co. Offaly. To mark the occasion, Paul heisted his Guinness glass, despite the three Gardai officers outside the entrance.

The boys had a good week at school. Theo is a hit at Scoil Chaitríona, and has made pals with Ruth Ann, Aisling, Ronan, Ryan, and a host of other befreckled redheads. He is learning the tin whistle with his class and aspires to invent ‘Tin Whistle Hero’ for the Wii.

At recess, the children are not allowed to run. However, Theo reported to Sue on Wednesday, ‘I got a game of tag going at recess, Mom.’

‘Tag? Without running?’ said Sue.

‘Yeah. It was walking tag, but it was better than no tag at all.’

Sam, who can see Galway Bay from his bedroom (image below) joined both the Traditional Irish Music Club and the Guitar Club at Colaíste Eínde this week. After the first meeting, another axe player asked him to play a few rock riffs. The next day he asked Sam to join his punk/alt rock band for weekly jam/rehearsal sessions. The kids are about four years older than Sam, but Guitarzan apparently impressed them enough be enlisted. Dad will of course do background checks on the lot of them before agreeing to it, but they seem harmless and drug-free.

As for domestic life, we’re well settled. We had only one minor disappointment this week. After all the mental preparation and gastronomic anticipation of the past year, it turns out that black pudding’s most famous and important ingredient, fresh hog blood, no longer colors or flavors the famed sausage of this land. According to Tony the Butcher, since the great BSE outbreak of 1990’s in Britain the Irish government has prohibited the real deal in black pudding, regardless of its source. According to our cleaver-wielding Connemaran friend, “Can’t even put mutton blood in’t. Got us usin’ artificial blood, and Jay-sus knows what’s in that rot. What’s the point of it all then, yeah? It’s desperate madness, I tell ya. Madness.” His fresh white pudding is untainted, however, and is as good as it gets so long as you don’t know its composition.