Reflections of an introvert

My last day as OCC Vice Commodore, receiving the OCC Award

It's interesting that I haven't written anything in 2023 yet and it is already 3 May. I haven't been writing much. I have been gardening quite a bit lately, and working with the Ukrainian community.

What I have been doing mostly is figuring out how I can rid myself of all these responsibilities I have taken on. I started with the Ocean Cruising Club Vice Commodore's spot, which I gave up at the AGM in Poole UK last month. I had reached a point where I had little interest (much like happened with HBA), after having done a lot during the pandemic years. For which I was honoured with the OCC Award (much like the STAR award with HBA). I seem to be following a pattern. 

I wonder what interest the next decade will bring? I'm betting on viticulture and winemaking. 

We have finally reached close to the end of cleaning out Ross House, for which I am grateful as that took a lot of time and effort. Every Monday for almost a year, Kirsten and I have been clearing out 170 years of family stuff, room by room. The piles -- goes with house, one of us keeps, goes to charity, goes to the dump. We've taken truckloads to charity and more truckloads to the dump. We've also distributed some stuff among our homes, which are now brimming with stuff in turn. But as probate is not yet concluded, we cannot move on. It's very frustrating that it's all dragging. 

Chris and Marika and Aileen and Sheila were here briefly to finalise some things. It was good seeing them and getting to know their partners. Everyone is getting up there in age.

I now have to figure out how to get my introvert life back from the Ukrainians. I have helped several families all of whom want to thank me profusely. I took on the more difficult cases because I could help with language and maneuvering through the systems. But now, its time to move on and they do not understand. 

I seem to be getting more introverted as I get older, perhaps because there's little I need to achieve at this point. I am comfortable in my own skin, I do not need conversation, I am happy with my life. What more is there? More wisdom? More awards? No, time to go spend some money while I still can. At least then, I will learn finally, if money can buy happiness. Until now, I haven't allowed that to happen. 

 

Out of the funk

I came out of the funk just at the end of November. Was there a trigger?  Not that I know of. But I do recognise that it was a form of depression. Anyway, I pulled myself together to teach Ukrainian classes on Tuesdays in Newport and Thursdays in Westport. I do the laundry on Mondays in between clearing out the stuff at Ross House with Kirstin, do the food shopping on Wednesdays, and take Fridays off. 

I must say, my Ukrainian has improved in these past few months to point of fluency again. It helps as I am teaching real beginners. My students in Westport are making progress. They are at least trying to speak. When I started, a few refused to say anything. But with a little cajoling, they have started being brave. That's my class above. We had a lesson about Christmas in Ireland at the last session. They couldn't believe that the Irish don't celebrate Christmas Eve. They gave me a lovely Christmas present and wrote a poem - in English. They made me cry!

My class in Newport is fluid with new arrivals weekly. I am now helping a family who have a young son with cerebral palsy. I also placed a family of seven in a beautiful home in Fahy in the middle of nowhere. But they bought a car and are very self-sufficient. I've been sharing insights with the volunteers instructors in Newport, which is helping them. Things like dogs don't say bow-wow in Ukrainian so one of the lessons they had in mind wouldn't work. Also, Ukrainian traditions like St Nicholas brings gifts on the 19th of November, so the principal in Newport gave all the Ukrainian kids little gifts for St Nick's. 

We had our first dinner party, aside from having had family over (Chris, Marika, Aileen and Sheila) when they were here in November. We served lamb from Inishdaff on both occasions. It was actually great fun entertaining again. Clearly, I am feeling better. 

The week before Christmas, I got what I thought was a common cold, but it turned out to be a bit more. I tested negative for Covid but the symptoms indicated RSV (respiratory syncytial virus). Runny nose, low-grade fever, sneezing, wheezing and croupy cough. It's been going around. Everyone in our neighbourhood has had it. So for Christmas, I gave it to Alex. Happy Christmas, honey! We didn't do Christmas eve as we were both too miserable. But I was able to marinate the beets for Uki Christmas and managed to make chocolate chip cookies. And I recovered enough to make the Christmas dinner, with turkey, mashed potatoes, gravy, stuffing, cranberry sauce and carrots. Ho ho ho!

For Stephen's Day, we hung around and then had a lobster dinner -- one of Alex's Clew Bay lobsters frozen this summer. Yum. And I baked a plyatsok, so it felt a bit festive. 

It's been raining on and off so it is not tempting to be outside. At least it's a bit warmer than it was a couple of weeks ago when we suffered an arctic blast. I am ready for 2023, as 2022 was rather a bust. 

That sinking feeling

That sinking feeling

by Daria Blackwell

I feel the knots in my core. 

Twisting. Erupting. Gnawing.

My head throbs and my eyes bulge,

I am like a wild animal caught in a trap.

I hate being here. I want to run and hide.

I want the peace and solace of home.

I can’t deal with people all the time. 

I must be on my own to recharge

And that can’t be just on a different boat. 

Or on another note in time. 

It has to be out of sight to be out of mind. 

Being trapped causes my mind to spiral

Deep into abysses I can usually avoid.

I want to shed all responsibility and flee.

But I am enveloped by a sea of lost tranquility.

I want to cry. I want to slip overboard.

I want to cut the lines loose and drift out to sea. 

Where if the sinking feeling is real,

I won’t have to deal with it anymore. 

Written aboard Aleria on June 28, 2022, a day before my 68th birthday.

Lost in space

I don't know what's wrong with me, but I know there is something. I have that sinking feeling again. Perhaps a bit of PTSD?  I can't write. I don't want to travel, yet I feel like I'm missing out. I don't want to be with people. I don't want any responsibilities. I want to resign from all my volunteer activities. I am anxious all the time, and yet I have no interest in anything. 

I've lost my mojo. I've lost my confidence. I have no passion. I've lost some of my soul. In fact, I am afraid. 

I have nightmares. I am going to physio because my shoulders and neck are tied up in knots. I shouldn't be having this anxiety. I am fully vaccinated with two boosters, each of a different vaccine. I've survived Covid itself without much ado. So I shouldn't be worried about that. 

I definitely think I am an ugly old woman when I look in the mirror. I remember my mom saying the same thing around this age, although I am more mobile and active than she was. 

I don't know how to find what I want to do next. Maybe it should be just escaping into the books that I've bought for that purpose but haven't been willing to tackle? Maybe I should take that winemaking course in Burgundy or at least online. 

I feel like I'm running out of time, but then I wonder what's the point. If I see everything on earth, will it help me in eternity, if that exists? 

I know I should be grateful for everything I have: a wonderful husband, a wonderful home in a beautiful place, my health. So many in the world are suffering. Floods in Pakistan, famine in Somalia, fires in California and France and elsewhere, war in Ukraine. And then there's Trump and Liz Truss. 

Why can't I just be happy, or at least content? Why am I so sad?  Maybe because of the state of the world? It all seems so pointless. 

Farewell to Meike

 

Cars I have owned

My first car was a Pontiac LeMans (dirty gold) 350 HP V8 muscle car which my sister gave me when she went to Brazil. I hated it but it was all American powerful. When I had to park in garages, they'd always ask what color it was. It was a dirty gold or dark mustard color. Ugly. I sold it during the fuel crisis when the cost of gasoline went through the roof and we had huge backups at the pump where we could only fuel up on alternate days. I did not buy this car, but I traded it for a fuel-efficient Honda Accord. 

Cars I bought:

Honda Accord (gold) - hatchback -- wrecked 

Honda Accord (silver) - sedan -- good performer

Triumph TR7 (green) -- piece of junk

Nissan 300ZX (red) -- hot stuff

Nissan Altima (black) -- 4-door sports car

Lexus LS400 (gold) Sammy (Samurai) -- old man's car

Mercedes SLK320 (burgundy)  Maxie (Maximilian) -- fabulous car

Mini One (black) Mickey (Micky Mouse) -- fun car (Sold)

Ford Focus (gunmetal grey) Finn (Finn McCool) -- great to drive

What I have always wanted but will never have is a Jaguar XKE. 

The US records surpass 1 million deaths due to Covid

San Francisco 2019 

It is hard to fathom that more than 1 million people in the United States alone are confirmed to have died due to Covid, more than the population of San Francisco. Globally, the figure of confirmed victims is 6.7 million but the WHO estimates more like 15 million. 

The last couple of months has been pretty wild for Alex and me and our families. On 24 February, when Russia invaded Ukraine, I started helping settle Ukrainian families in Ireland. Ireland opened its doors to Ukrainians without visas or connections here and more than 30,000 have now arrived. The communities in Newport, Westport and Rosmoney got behind the effort and people offered their homes, clothing, food and moral support. I was, and am, very grateful to the Irish for their kindness and generosity. 

Then Alex's mom, Meike, who had just moved to Kirstin's house a month before, had a second stroke -- a massive one from which she did not recover. But she lingered fighting for a week. It was awful to see her spirit slowly depart from the body. We had a funeral service in the Protestant Church with a packed crowd, followed by a Cremation in Cavan. That night we all stayed at Miriam's house in Monaghan and spent the night telling stories about Meike. She will be sorely missed. 

Alex and I then made the decision to stick with our planned US trip for the first week of April. We had the OCC AGM and Awards weekend in Annapolis to take part in, and then we were to visit Alexis and Andrew. We hadn't seen their family in 3 years and Alex had never met baby Miles. We looked forward to that immensely. I also had to renew my driving license, and we had bank accounts to straighten out, so it was rather an important mission. We bit the bullet and made the trip. I left my car to the Kisorets family out in Rosmoney while we were gone, but I figured they would end up keeping it longer term, and they have. 

I'll spare you the details, but suffice it to say that travel has taken on a new dimension post-Covid. It was a really enjoyable trip. The day we got home, we started experiencing clear symptoms of Covid. Fever and chills alternating with sweats, cough, etc. Two days later, we tested very positive by lateral flow test. Exactly ten days later was Meike's burial on the island. Alex had organised Peter's boat to take all who wanted to come over to Inishdaff. Fortunately, Alex tested negative though he still had symptoms -- cough, shortness of breath and exhaustion. I still tested positive for 2 more days. Masked and distanced, I attended both the service and the reception at Ross House afterwards which was crammed with people. I have not heard of any cases as a result, so I remain hopeful that I was no longer infectious.

I continue helping my Ukrainians. We had lunch with about 40 of them in Newport the day of the re-enactment of Newport 300. It was amazing to finally meet Anna and Julia and so many others who all wanted to talk to me. 

It's been a whirlwind. This week, Alex and I went to look at cars. I wanted electric (originally the Tesla) and we tested and liked the Hyundai Kona, but it won't be available until July at the earliest and the cost of electricity has skyrocketed. I was worried about buying that at this time. And I can't take Mickey away from the Kisorets. It has changed their lives. 

Then we stopped in at Cosgraves in Castlebar and looked at two sedans, a Mercedes and a BMW. Both were nice but not 'right'. But at Cosgraves in Westport we spotted a 2019 Ford Focus. We liked the test drive and I bought it on the spot. €22K. I have never done anything so radical in my life. It felt weird, I second-guessed, but I think I made the right decision. Between Brexit and the war in Ukraine, buying good cars has become a challenge. New ones are not available because the chips are made in Ukraine. Used cars are not available because Brexit has made import difficult. I was concerned this one would not last, it was that clean with 34K miles. We can always trade it in when EVs become more widely available.

Meet Finn McCool...Ford Focus Finn. The first American car (built in Germany for the UK market with right-hand drive) I have ever bought. And Finn has Dublin plates...pshaw!

 

How America Lost One Million People NYT 15 May 2022