It was thirty-five years ago that I last was at Blarney Castle, and I have a photo to prove that two husky Irishmen eased me over the edge of the high wall to kiss the famous stone back then. For the record, it was half my life ago.
Today Earl and I roamed the castle grounds while I reminisced and he represented the newcomer’s view. I recalled the pathway across the grounds to the castle’s edge that I’d walked with my two sons; he took photos. I tried to reconcile my memories with the current view; he took photos. And I silently vowed to contact Kevin, my older son, and ask what he remembered of that original trip.
Earl preserved this one for us.