How she does it, nobody knows, but Irene our fearless tour guide got us all up and even out of the house at 8:30am after a night of post-post-show partying in the living room that involved fox trot lessons for all by Danielle, guitar strumming by yours truly, and probably louder and more raucus than we realized singing from all of us. I believe it was about 3am here when Donnetta called her Mama in South Carolina and had here take us to church in song over the iphone – she has a beautiful voice!  By the time our completely confused bodies were ready for bed, it was 4 am here.  So, you see now the miraculousness of an 8:30am departure!

But depart we did.  And with Latte and scone in hand, I followed my friends across the River Liffey to the tourism office to meet our shuttle to Newgrange and Nowth for what Irene promised would be a spiritual and renewing experience.  I would say woo-hoo, but that might just have killed me.  I was so very close to death warmed over already you see.  I joined everyone in our little red van and even made it back across the river on our journey to enlightenment.  But as we idled at a red light one block away from our hotel, I had an epiphany: This bus ride is NOT going to be fun right now, and I don’t HAVE to do this.  So, I hopped off and walked home, crawled back into bed and slept for 3 straight hours.  I awoke at 1pm, if not refreshed, at least breathing.  I dressed and took a stroll around the shops close by the hotel.  And although there was no spiritual element as far as I could tell, it was revitalizing enough.

When the gang returned they looked a bit weary but had tales of a beautiful journey to tell.  I was completely content to hear it all second hand. I wandered out to find food, because I finally felt ready for that.  I ran into Donnetta’s wife, Shalema at the front desk so we took this adventure together. We initially landed upon a place in the shopping mall that made paninis.  They made them but we could only have one  if we “took it away”, so I set down my tray and we resigned ourselves to finding a place on a bench in the nearby park to eat.  I ordered and was then informed that it would have to be a cold panini (is that even a panini by definition?) because the warming machine was turned off this time of day.  But if I would “stay in” to eat, I could go to the line in the back and order warm food.  But no paninis because back there where they panini machine was still turned on, they didn’t not have any panini bread.  I thought I might cry.  Or scream.  But instead Shalema and I walked on in search of a place where panini bread and panini warmer might possibly coexist.

We did find such a place and I ordered a lovely ham and cheddar panini that came with pesto and sundried tomato because that’s what it said on the menu and I was too tired at this point to argue.  My lunch-mate, Shalema, ordered a chicken something panini with coleslaw.  When she asked to have it without the coleslaw, she was told that would cost extra. In the end we both ate what the women behind the counter wanted us to eat.  I’ve come to believe that the Irish do not actually want to sell food to me.  Or perhaps they are just messing with me because it amuses them.

After this meal that could not be defined as breakfast, lunch or dinner – or as the sandwich I had intended to consume – we all gathered up our things and headed back to the James Joyce for our second show of the run.  Second shows are always challenging.  The adrenaline of opening night has dissipated and often leaves in it’s stead great crater’s of insecurity about various moments in the play.  I wasn’t really looking forward to it, but I think we were all preparing for the challenge…it is after all, why we are here.

Jen (our fabulous stage manager) called 15 minutes and we were all costumed, propped and mentally prepared to go.  Jen called 5 minutes from the house because she could – it was empty.  at “places”, it was still empty and the one person standing at the box office was willing to come back tomorrow, so we cancelled the show.  Easy as that.  And now we had a free night on Dublin town.

Strolling down Connelly Street, we passed the famous GPO (yes, Kevin, I will get you your picture…) and were lured into the almost equally famous Carroll’s Irish chachka shop (two words that seriously seem to clash, but I don’t know how else to define this sea of 4 leaf clovers and leprechauns.)  Then it was off for an “early” dinner.  We were turned away at a few places because apparently 9:30pm is not considered “early” or dinner time at all at many Irish establishments.  We came upon Fitzsimmons at the edge of Temple Bar and stumbled in for a pint and some beef and Guinness stew.  Another yummy meal.

Despite having no show, we were all a bit weary so we headed for the door.  But we were stopped by the strain of live music making it’s way over the din of the bar. We ended up dancing to acoustic versions of REM, Prince and even some Adele songs before finally packing it in and heading back over the Liffey for home.  Early (ish) to bed tonight so we can perhaps lay a plan…and follow it…tomorrow!

Despite the startling start, it was a lovely morning.  The sun was once again shining over Dublin town, and it was almost balmy out of the wind.  We strolled up through Temple Bar area to Grafton St and on to St. Stephen’s Green.  We stopped at the shopping center to use the toilet and were actually early enough to beat the money taker and avoid the 20 pence fee for peeing.  And then we were ready to run.  or “scoot” as Donnetta of South Carolina calls it.  The park is beautiful – lush and green with ponds and bridges and gazebos. And contrary to what I had expected, we were not the only folks in the park strolling with the intention to sweat.

Our run was a fine way to start the day, and was really all we did.  We finally sat down for that long-awaited cup of coffee at around noon, and that pause slid seamlessly into a brunch-like lunch (I ordered – and ate – the “vegetarian breakfast” which consisted of white toast, a small pile of sauted mushrooms, a grilled tomato, two fried eggs and a small ramiken of beans that looked like they came from a can.  Not something I’d repeat, but it did what it needed to do.) Over breakfast we finally did some “table work” on the play – a little out of the normal order, but effective all the same. When we finally got back to the apartment, it was time to prepare for opening night of the show.  Oh, right, we’re here to do a show…

And it really couldn’t have gone better!  The crowd was small, but so is the room, so we essentially played to a full house. Apparently an audience is exactly what we needed, because the thing really took off last night – relationships were solidified, the arc was apparent, and moments we’d worried about gelled.  What happened onstage however, quite belied what went off in our little “back stage” area! Onstage the show was a well-written romantic comedy -  we got most of the words out in the right order and the laughs came in all the right places.  Off-stage, under-rehearsed quick changes and complicated prop-tracking made for a real door-slamming farce: think “Noises Off” when they spin the stage around!  But, we managed to make it onto the stage with mostly the right props in hand, wearing close to the right costumes, and no one in the audience was any the wiser!

Opening night was, of course, followed by an opening night party.  We headed for Temple Bar to grab a bite at the somewhat touristy but really yummy The Quays.  Mutton, Lamb stew, and Guinness were well-represented at the table.  Then it was off through the pouring rain (yes, that Dublin rain did finally arrive) to the Arlington Hotel for many toasts with complimentary wine. Here’s to successful opening nights all around the festival!

Four Women. One bathroom.  Recipe for disaster? Possibly.  But if anyone can do it, this group of women can.  (check in for future posts to see if I’m proven correct!)  In any case, this adventure is made all the better by it’s cast of characters: Irene, Danielle and Donetta.

As in any cast, crew or family, we have all assumed our roles.  Quite quickly on this trip, it seems.  Irene has taken on the role of tour guide and personal planner… and no one cares to interfere – a very good sign!  Danielle, our resident former playboy bunny, has wordlessly agreed, it seems, to take on any anxiety about the play itself.  She will keep it top of mind so we can all just have a blast in Dublin and, oh, by the way, do that play we rehearsed all last month in NYC…. Donetta will simply (and seamlessly) keep us all safe.  She will also carry things.  And offer to get coffee when we are too bleary eyed to find the cafe.  And she is the only one who is able to use the antiquated keys int he several locks on our apartment door.

And that leaves me.  Free to blow across the cobblestones of Dublin’s streets in any direction the wind might move me.  It leaves me here, free to live it, share i,  and even miss the kids as I revel in the freedom of being anonymous in a foreign country where there is no language barrier and people love to watch theatre and listen to music.  I think I’m gonna like it here!

Irene, Donetta and Danielle strolling in Dublin

I’ve posted new photos here on the site as well as some videos on youtube.  “Dissatisfied” was one of my favorite songs to play Saturday night.  It’s one of my early songs (from “New Shoes”) completely transformed by the fabulous Peter Farrell, Quint Lange and Jock MacNelly.

A percentage of all new CD sales at this event will be donated to Living Beyond Breast Cancer.  Hope you can join us for the party!

Lori is survived by her husband, Fredi.  Some of you may know him as my bass player for many years when we were still based in NYC.  I have some idea about the emotional rollercoaster Fredi is lining up for in February.  I imagine it will be much like my May….

Lori fought ferociously for many years against the cancer that finally won the battle.  She was diagnosed at an early stage and a young age, and went into remission several times.  Over the years she learned to navigate the diagnoses and treatments, the hospitalizations and recovery times.  She learned as much as she could about her disease so she could make informed decisions and have some say in how her treatment and healing progressed.  She asked for help when she needed it and gave tirelessly of herself to others.  She connected with other survivors. I suspect that had a positive impact on her quality of life.  I know it made a huge difference in theirs.

Lori lived powerfully despite her debilitating disease.  She made music and traveled and loved and loved and loved. I will never forget my trip halfway across the country with just her and 18 month old Clara.  We drove to Michigan to visit her family on the lake.  We stopped at the Toledo zoo to kiss goats and made a game of finding playgrounds to let Clara wear herself out so she would sleep and we could talk. And talk. And talk. She was in remission then.  But somehow she knew.  I told her she was wrong.  She wasn’t.

Soon after we returned home Lori got the news: the cancer was back.  She was plunged back into a world of chemo and radiation, surgery and medications that made her feel like giving up the fight, but she never did.  She never did, and she always shared her story.  She wrote almost daily about her journey, her hopes, her dreams.  She put her dreams out into the world and many of them were made reality.  She got to be bat girl for the Yankees and met her idol, Derek Jeter.  She went to Disney and was even able to take her dream trip to Hawaii with the love of her life, Fredi, just a few weeks before her life ended.  She truly lived until the day she died.  You can hear about her journey in her own words in this video:

So come February this year I will be doing all I can to help raise money for Living Beyond Breast Cancer. On Feb 12^th I’ll be joining about 120 other yogis in Ft Washington, PA for the Team Twisters Barefoot Ball.  The Ball is the kick-off of Team Twisters fundraising efforts for LBBC. We’ll practice yoga and rally our energy to do what it is we intend to do: raise at least $30,000 before the big “yoga on the steps” event on the famous Philly art museum steps (made famous by Rocky Balboa).  I will also be donating a percentage of all sales of the new CD to Living Beyond Breast Cancer through February.

February 25^th is the official launch party for the new CD.  We’ll be celebrating with friends and fans at MilkBoy in Ardmore, PA.  I’m grateful for one more joyous occasion to tip the scales in a month of great joy and deepest sorrow.

If you have any good fundraising suggestions for me, I’d love to hear them…and LBBC would no doubt love to reap the benefits of them!!

“Philadelphia-based singer/songwriter, Meghan Cary, is a beacon of light in the world of female folk music….If female music fans add this one to their collections, then their house would be complete.” ~ Matthew Forss

Check out the whole review at Inside World Music.  Thank so much Matthew!