De Omnibus Dubitandum Est.

About 19:00 hours on Sunday night, "Team Lambert" fell-in to battle formations and headed into the eye of the promised apocalyptic storm. We were heading West, far West, As West as it gets. We were heading home to Mayo. Unusually, we haven't made it back over for about 12 months, so this trip feels long overdue, and it is always an emotional experience to be here. One of the first things we always do is rush down to the family grave where Ruth's ashes are interred. Lou really feels drawn here and coming to the grave is a real need . For me, it does not make me feel closer to Ruth. It is somewhere peaceful, with long association with my family, where I can pray and think about Ruth. I always think about her a lot, but on family holidays it is always particularly difficult, because you feel that she should be here and yet she is not. You feel a gaping hole inside and you know that you can't plug it. You will never be able to plug it. Seeing the grav...

In which I wax lyrical about Murrisk, Clew Bay and all things Mayo, and tell you a story about my connection to John Lennon, The Beatles, and an uninhabited Island in the Atlantic ocean. Dorinish Dorinish  (Irish: Deoirinis, pron: door-wrench) i s a place which is very close to my heart. It is an island in Clew Bay on the West coast of Ireland. Clew Bay has been immortalised in many a song and has featured on the television not infrequently as it is, without doubt, one of the most beautiful places in the world.  Dotted with small islands, it is over-looked by the sentinel-like Croagh Patrick (Irish: Cruach Phadraig), the pyramidal mountain where St. Patrick stayed for forty days and nights in the fifth century. Siobhan & I climbing the Reek. My friend Siobhan Kelly at the oratory on top of Croagh Patrick after an exhausting climb. The tiny island is one of the most special places in my life as my uncles bought it from John Lennon (of all peo...