Flowers and Flags

Lakeside’s very own wonderful Renaissance man David planted this swan (our emblem), and it has juts bloomed this week.

David, as I’ve mentioned before, is very British. Proper, reserved, and wears a sweater vest and loafers to mulch, chainsaw, and plumb.Being American and very…not any of those things, it’s sometimes difficult for me to understand what it is David is trying to communicate to me or how to communicate well with him.  He’s a gem, though. So kind and helpful.

A charming thing happened with him yesterday in the kitchen. Adam and I were ladling up soup for ourselves when David walked in, said something to me about the laundry, and then asked if I’d happened to notice the flower arrangement outside.

As he told me how it may be difficult to take a picture of it because of its placement in the yard, but aaaalll the different places that one might try to, he got this impish smile like a little kid trying not to get overly excited about the macaroni necklace he just gave his mom because what if she doesn’t like it but I mean really, how could she not like it, it’s freakin’ necklace made of macaroni! Say how much you love it, mom!!!  

According to David’s counting yesterday, there are planted currently around the manner grounds (which means, my man planted them himself) 300 flower bulbs. Come full spring, our estate is going to be bursting with blooms thanks to him.

His obvious pride and excitement (buried by Britishness) was such a pleasure to see.

Belfast, too, is blooming. Crocus flowers are all along the embankments of the roadways.

It’s also a week for holidays, as yesterday was Pancake Tuesday. Yes. Real holiday.

Here, instead of calling it Fat Tuesday, it is Pancake Tuesday, the day when you cook and serve up as many pancakes with as many sugary toppings as your fridge and bodies can handle.

Adam and I took advantage of this and while he made the pancakes (my attempt at flipping one and turning it into a panwad got me banned), I put together the topping bar. We ate so many pancakes we almost burst. 

*everything minus the cinnamon

We did not, however, and instead finished our puzzle of St. Patrick.

St. Paddy may have cast all the snakes and devils out of Ireland, but we are both certain he cast them into that puzzle. We FINALLY completed it, but discovered 5 whole missing pieces. Evil, evil puzzle.

Local piece of news is the current visit of former U.S. President Bill Clinton or, here, Wee Billy Clinton. It’s the only thing they know when I say I’m from Arkansas (if I say Oklahoma, they burst into song.).

Personally, I have no taste for the man. I find him slimy. However, since living here and hearing the depths of the troubles during The Troubles and how he was imperative in the navigation out of those times, I have gained some respect for him as a diplomat on behalf of my adopted people.

What’s most fascinating to me—thoughts coming from both the Lent season (traditionally Catholic) and his arrival—is how The Troubles really aren’t about religion at all but they are most often described as that. It’s easiest.

You see, Ireland is not comprised mainly of Irish really. The British really screwed them over.

There are the Ulster Scots (sent from Scotland to come live here) and the Anglo-Irish (sent from England to come live here) and, finally, the Irish. The first two categories are now what is known as the United Kingdom and are Protestant.

They settled the land on behalf of the crown to dominate the homepeople and extort them for cash money (pft. As if they had any…). The Irish were Catholic and the lowest of the lowest classes. They just want their country back and their oppressors out.

I could give you a whole history lesson even farther back and forward, but that’s the gist of it.

The Protestant are the Unionists (those who wish to stay with the UK and raise the Union Jack) and the Republicans are the Catholic (Use of the TriColor Flag [pronounced here trick-ulur]give me my republic or give me death. Literally).

The fight isn’t on whose religion is more right; it’s a good deal political, with sides who happen to have opposing religious sects.

It’s all very fascinating, really, and maybe even a bit ironic, especially considering how very non-religious Ireland has become. Religion isn’t something you live here. It’s something you are.

They would say “I’m Catholic,” like one would say, “I’m Jewish,” or “I’m Native American.” It’s an identity factor. Even if you yourself are atheist, if someone asked you "what you were," you would respond, "My family is Catholic" or "My family is protestant." 

In some ways, I believe strongly that it is this very quality which numbs the people from having eyes to see or ears to hear Jesus in their country or friends.

In their minds, there’s nothing to see, nothing to hear that would surprise them.

Like my friend from class, their experience with the church has been so abusive and political and non-relational that they could very nicely go for always without hearing of it all again.

God has nothing to do with it.