O'Reilly and Mavourneen were their way to see their best friend Finnegan.
The little tiger cat ran ahead, the striped tail with a kink at the tip sticking straight up.
The two enjoyed the warm autumn sunshine, the fresh air and their walk.
Old friends, neighbors, shopkeepers and "Immigrants" greeted the old man and the little cat on their way through the small Irish village.
"Well," adressed O'Reilly his fluffy companion, "That's 'oy so'tiz in villages an' wee places, everyone knows yer an' yer nu everyone, too.."
He took a sip of beer.
"But yer nu waat? dis is a gran' tin'"
Finnegan nodded wisely.
A/N: O'Reilly's Brogue to the courtesy of:
http://www.whoohoo.co.uk/irish-translator.asp No Idea how authentic this is, but at least it's fun.
Thursday, December 31, 2009
Tuesday, December 29, 2009
Well, look at that, O'Reilly
Somehow slightly inspired by an internship in an art museum in south-west Germany.....
O'Reilly sat with Finnegan in his garden.
It had been raining quite a lot that morning and now the sun blinked shyly through the clouds.
"Ah well," said O'Reilly, "Oirlan' is not called de Emerald isle for nathin', aye?"
"An' yer don't nade ter water anymore, Finn," he added.
"True," agreed Finnegan.
Mavourneen sat on his lap, getting her little ears rubbed and happily purred to herself.
A rather odd-looking man in rubber boots, Bermuda shorts, sunglasses and rain hat set up an easel, folding chair and small picnic table opposite Finnegan 's Cottage, unpacked all sorts of equipment and a few large pieces of white artists cardboard and sat down.
"Ah well," said O'Reilly, "wonder waaat dat turns oyt as."
"Art," said Finnegan only.
A little bolder now, the sun shone down on two old men, a little cat and an eccentric artist in a small village in the middle of green Ireland.
Quite a long time later:
O'Reilly had once again travelled into the city.
His son's fiftieth birthday was coming up and O'Reilly had had the idea to give the boy a copy of the newspaper issued on the date of his birth.
"Ah well," said O'Reilly, "wus not much interestin' 'eadin' on at dat time, but maybe 'e'll loike it anyway."
On the way to the library he passed by a small gallery. A sign hung in the window:
"My Ireland-- Snapshots."
Next to it was a picture on an easel, with garden outside a small cottage, in which two old men and a small tiger cat were sitting.
O'Reilly grinned.
"Well," he said, "alwus knew dat oi'm juicy as a picture."
A/N: Just in case someone was wondering: "Well, said O'Reilly" is sort of the running gag here. It's a quirk of O'Reilly's to start just about every sentence with the word "Well", which started in the first story. Which kind of built itself around that one sentence: "Ah, well," said O'Reilly.
O'Reillys Brogue courtesy to the brogue translator on woohoo.com
O'Reilly sat with Finnegan in his garden.
It had been raining quite a lot that morning and now the sun blinked shyly through the clouds.
"Ah well," said O'Reilly, "Oirlan' is not called de Emerald isle for nathin', aye?"
"An' yer don't nade ter water anymore, Finn," he added.
"True," agreed Finnegan.
Mavourneen sat on his lap, getting her little ears rubbed and happily purred to herself.
A rather odd-looking man in rubber boots, Bermuda shorts, sunglasses and rain hat set up an easel, folding chair and small picnic table opposite Finnegan 's Cottage, unpacked all sorts of equipment and a few large pieces of white artists cardboard and sat down.
"Ah well," said O'Reilly, "wonder waaat dat turns oyt as."
"Art," said Finnegan only.
A little bolder now, the sun shone down on two old men, a little cat and an eccentric artist in a small village in the middle of green Ireland.
Quite a long time later:
O'Reilly had once again travelled into the city.
His son's fiftieth birthday was coming up and O'Reilly had had the idea to give the boy a copy of the newspaper issued on the date of his birth.
"Ah well," said O'Reilly, "wus not much interestin' 'eadin' on at dat time, but maybe 'e'll loike it anyway."
On the way to the library he passed by a small gallery. A sign hung in the window:
"My Ireland-- Snapshots."
Next to it was a picture on an easel, with garden outside a small cottage, in which two old men and a small tiger cat were sitting.
O'Reilly grinned.
"Well," he said, "alwus knew dat oi'm juicy as a picture."
A/N: Just in case someone was wondering: "Well, said O'Reilly" is sort of the running gag here. It's a quirk of O'Reilly's to start just about every sentence with the word "Well", which started in the first story. Which kind of built itself around that one sentence: "Ah, well," said O'Reilly.
O'Reillys Brogue courtesy to the brogue translator on woohoo.com
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