#sorry for the late response btw i get like at least 5 asks per day and i'm still sick so it's a bit hard to reply to everything skjdfnsjkdfn

[beanghostprincess]

Same anon about buggy hate here

Yeah I do think it’s especially funny when I see hate from die hard OP fans who definitely are up to date. They just misinterpreted 1082 because they want to hate this character. And for no actual reason whatsoever, other than they want their cool hot characters to be always on top (not that I don’t find buggy hot, please buggy simps spare my life)

I think of buggy more like an absent minded character though. Like I don’t think he’s just dumb dumb, but definitely he has this great comedy moments, coming from his hotheadedness and completely not paying attention. I genuinely think he’s one of the funniest OP characters. And I do think 1082 was big change of that in a way. He didn’t lose those characteristic, he just got more.

Tbh I didn’t even mean it in shippy way? I don’t really engage that much with shipping other than zolu tbh. I guess it could be interpreted in shippy way though so yeah… I meant just dynamics that people choose to portray between those two. Definitely just see a lot of zolu/shanks/buggy mix there which is… kinda iffy to me. People already have this type of relationship there but something stopping them from engaging

And yeah shanks and buggy literally have insane bond just on the fact of their shared experiences growing up. Just that fact is enough to make shanks like buggy, or see him as brother, or whatever you want to portray them as. (I’m more on brotherly bond but hey, it’s just marine’s interpretation, so nothing canon! Not hating on any shippers here). And I truly do think shanks just genuinely likes that guy. As in his character. The way he acts. He loves being playful with him, like me and my siblings. For me it’s like someone saying to me “why you love your sisters, she’s annoying”. That’s my sister and I don’t care how others see her. She’s just mine and always will be. You know? So definitely I agree with your point (in twisted way, agree bond exist, just different interpretation)

I’m sure buggy will have nice arc with cool finish. Probably do have some kind of moment about shanks too. It’s just makes sense from writing point and I think deep inside many people hate that fact.

Thanks for taking your time with answering me!

[Context]

As somebody who reads chapter 1082 every day (a normal amount of times, thank you very much) people misinterpreting it makes my blood boil.

And I wish I could expand on what you've already said but I think we've talked about everything I've had in mind? Like, yes, Buggy is still himself even after 1082. In fact, it just added depth to his character and made him even better. The ships thing is pretty real too, and people often are afraid to engage with new dynamics and stick to what's safe. And it doesn't even need to be romantic, if you see them in a platonic way that's cool too, the point is that Shanks still cares for him and has his reasons to love Buggy.

I'm not even worried about Buggy's arc because I trust Oda with this, so we'll just have to wait and see how it goes.

[stu-dna]

how I survived my first semester at uni

somehow I made it through. here’s what helped:

(this is going to differ for everyone based on how you study best & what subjects you're studying! I am a science major so business/law majors probably won't benefit much from this, sorry <3 )

I. NOTES

figure out what type of note taking works best for you

—I started out by handwriting my notes. It was fine until my handwriting disintegrated and even I couldn't read what was happening. Also, carrying around a whole bunch of notebooks and folders got way too heavy for my back.

—I then switched to taking notes digitally. It took some getting used to, but now I absolutely love it. I use Notability for pretty much everything.

organisation is your best friend

—I colour-code by subject, e.g. all biology notes are blue and all chemistry notes are green and I swear to god if one more person tells me that biology should be green imma fight a bitch. That also means that my highlighters in each digital notebook are the corresponding colours, so I’m able to see what subject each page is without having to read too much into it.

—I also separate my notes based on type, for example in-class notes, "pretty" notes, and practice sheets are separate categories. Within these categories the aforementioned colour-coding comes into play.

II. STUDYING

I fell in LOVE with flashcards

—I literally have a 20cm high stack of flashcards from my last exam (which I aced btw :) ). It's like that for nearly every exam.

—Speaking of which... some subjects don't work well with flashcards (for me at least) e.g physics and maths. This is something that you can usually figure out early on in the semester.

—Again, organisation will save your life. I use these boxes to separate my cards by subject, then within the box I use coloured cards (of course corresponding to the subject) to separate card types/sub-subjects.

practice exams are there (legally or not...) for a reason

—Practice exams are how I did well in physics (my least favourite subject). I separated all the questions by concept and then learned what I needed to by solving about 10 problems per concept. Same with my maths exam.

—If you have access to more than a couple of past exams you can familiarise yourself with the problems that tend to come up more frequently and how the professor tends to ask certain about certain concepts.

learn where you study best/most efficiently

—I absolutely cannot study at home. Too many distractions plus my bed is so comfortable...

—I found that the library worked perfectly. If I was out of my house then I might as well stay out and study. Also, the general academic atmosphere really helped me with motivation.

—To music or not to music, that is the question. Again, it depends on how and what you are studying. Physics and maths, for example, were just practice problems, so I would listen to music. I would also listen when writing flashcards. When learning flashcards, I'd either listen to rain sounds or absolutely nothing besides the scribbling of pens and the occasional sniffle. It all depends on how you focus best.

Ill. HEALTH

physical health

—Get your blood flowing. When I was in the library studying I would stand up every 45 minutes and go do squats and stretches in the bathroom. This can also help you focus (!).

—Every couple of hours, stand up and walk around for about 5 to 10 minutes. It gives you a little break and gets your blood circulating.

—I started cycling to uni. It is 5km (about half an hour) each way and I don't think I've been fitter in my life. It has done wonders for my mental health too.

—Drink water!! In the library I would only let myself stand up to stretch / pee after I finished an entire water bottle. This was every 45 minutes. I peed a lot.

—If the sun shines, go stand outside for a couple of minutes. This was a rare treat for me because where I live in Germany the winters are grey, grey, and darker grey. You need vitamin C and serotonin. Get some.

mental health

—Sleep. You need it. Trust me. Staying up really late to study for a bit longer before an exam isn't worth it. It'll lead to stupid mistakes that will bring your grade down and leave you feeling even more crappy.

—Take study breaks. If you are feeling mentally tired due to stress/over-studying, go home. Go to sleep. Let yourself sleep. It's worth it. Trying to cram more material in when you just can't do any more will not help you.

—Don't be afraid to not take an exam. At one point, I had 5 exams within 8 days of each other. I decided to not take the 4th one and to instead give myself a break and prepare for the 5th exam. It was the best decision I've made so far in uni. If you are worried about how not taking an exam will affect you in terms of your uni career, talk to an advisor or older student.

—Remember that you are not alone. Make one friend, even just an acquaintance. Reach out to old friends from school. Reach out to someone online, even anonymously. (I’m almost always online if you wanna chat <3 )

nutrition

—I'm really hypocritical for saying this, but eat breakfast. It makes a massive difference in your energy levels throughout the day.

—Eat a goddamn vegetable.

—Coffee can be your best friend but also your worst enemy. Use it responsibly.

—Alcohol is your own choice. Don't let anyone pressure you into drinking. You can have fun with or without it. And if someone tries to get you to drink even after you’ve said no, get the hell out of there.

IV. MISCELLANEOUS

—Sometimes skipping classes is worth it, but it's up to you to make the right choices as to which. I went to a grand total of 3 physics lectures and got a 1,3 on the exam (;

—You don't need to buy textbooks. Ask your classmates & have a look online (;

—BRING A PHONE CHARGER WITH YOU EVERYWHERE. I have a backpack changer and a home changer, and they live in those places.

—Carry painkillers, antacids, etc. around with you. Either you or someone you know will need some.

—Shower, especially if you are staying long days in the library. It will make you feel more alive.

—Find a cafe that you can retreat to when the library makes you want to rip your own eyes out.

—Treat yourself every now and again. Be it ice cream or a nice notebook or a frozen pizza or a fucking avocado, it’ll be worth it.

sometime in the future I’ll make a couple of posts where I’ll go into detail about some of the things I mentioned above (eg how I use Notability, my flashcard system, organisation, etc.)

unless this was absolute shite; if so lmk and I’ll go hide in a hole <3

[akiameokami]

The 1st Transition

(This is a fictional narrative that I felt like writing. NOT cute or fluffy, yet at least. There are at least 5 transitions. @extremelykawaiizombie per request, im posting it :P​) It all started the first day of my last year in high school, but that's for a different time. What? Did you think I was going to open my narrative with a  flash back? Come on guys. Be real.

No, this story starts out with me telling you about my first boyfriend in college. We broke up, turns out he was a cishest, bigoted, schmuck.  His name is David.   The First Transition: David Pacheco

They say that the hardest part of college is all the new surroundings, but this change was a Godsend for me. I'd just started my first semester at a college that for legal matters, I wont name. I was there studying for my associates in engineering. Of course, before I could start the learning I had to go to orientation. This is how I met David.

For this recap, I'm going to change the tempo so it's a bit easier to read. I was awkwardly 20 minutes late to the orientation. I couldn't find the flipping building. Thankfully the registration lady was still outside at the table with all the name tags. I cringed internally as I got a good look at her, she screamed old fashioned. "Hello there young man!" She calls to me as I rush over to her, trying to straighten my clothes so I don't look like a slob. "If I can get your name, I will get you a name tag and give you your dorm address!" She says in an overly polite voice that makes me sick. "My name is Adam but you probably have me listed as Ashley Monroe." I say in an equally forced polite tone. The ladies smile instantly drops as she assess what she is seeing. "Alright then, young lady, your dorm is..." She stops with a look of confusion.  "My dorm is what?" I ask in a rushed and probably rude way. I am in a hurry here. "Your dorm is listed as D dorm, but that is a males dorm." She says quietly. I grab the nametag and a sharpie and proceed to write down Adam in big blocky letters. "That's because I'm a flipping dude." I say as I scribble down Dorm D on my hand. "What room is it?" She roles her eyes at me and turns the list so I can see. I scribble down "Room 69" on my hand before returning her sharpie and rushing into the orientation hall.

As I walk into the room I notice that they have the areas split up into buildings, so all the students in A building are together (which is a bunch of hot girls btw) and so on so forth down the line. Of course the group for D dorm is in the middle of the room, and everyone looks at me awkwardly when I have to part the seas to get there. The first thing that I notice as I get a good look at my group is that these are mostly sporty guys. I look at some of the name tags and happen to find one that says "Resident Advisor" and its standing in front of me.   "Adam Monroe?" A stern, deep voice asks me. My eyes tear away from the name tag and glide up this mans neck, past his (chiseled) chin and to his face. He isn't happy. "Yes?" I manage to spit out. He raises an eyebrow at me and marks something on his clipboard. "You're late. If you are ever late for dorm duties I will write you up. Of course, the rest of the group has already covered this. Follow me and I'll introduce you to your "Moral Aid" who will get you caught up." He says as he turns and walks away from me. I can't help but catch sarcasm in his voice when he says Moral Aid. I briefly remember reading about those on the website... They were basically a buddy system for new students. You get roomed with a student who has already been here for at least a year and you are their responsibility. Sounded like a pain to me. "Adam, Meet David." The RA says as he steps aside, clearing my line of sight so that I can see the beautiful beast that stands before me. His light brown skin and slightly spikey hair made me think of that one detective on CSI Miami. More than his face, I find his frame to be impressive. I am guessing he is here on a soccer scholarship because his slender frame looks like he'd be good for going the distance to me.

"Adam." The RA says, clearly annoyed. "Sorry, my bad. Hi, I'm Adam" I say, just barely disguising my voice. David extends a hand out to me with a smile. "Don't worry about it, Adam. My name is David Pacheco. You can call me David or Pache, please no Dave. I will be your Moral guardian, I am here to help you experience all college has to offer." He finishes with a wink. I love the slight edge he has in his voice and can't help but laugh at him. The RA glares at the both of us but moves on to someone else.

"So on a serious note, How bad did Sergeant Ra grill you for being late?" David asks as he leans down to whisper to me. I raise an eyebrow at him to show him I am thoroughly confused. He chuckles slightly and tilts his head towards the Resident Advisor. "Get it, Ra, R. A. It's kind of a running joke among the senior students." He says in that "I made a bad joke" tone of voice. I just smile at him like I think its funny. I don't.

That was it. That was how I met David Pacheco. It was very intimidating at first, especially since I was right about thinking I was placed in the sports building. Turns out D dorm was the closest building to the different sports fields and the pool so that was where they traditionally put people on sports scholarships. To this day I still have no idea how I got there.

Doesn't seem like David's story is over? That's cause its not. I just wanted to make sure we were on the same page. David and I were roommates and we continued to hang out as he showed me the ropes of the school, he never questioned why I always fought to have bathroom time alone or things like that. He just thought I was insecure. Naturally, we became friends. Until we weren't. That's how it always works though, isn't it?

4 months into my first year of college, one of the swim team members threw a pool party. While I was there (only because David made me go) a drunk David pushed me into the water. I couldn't swim at the time and he had to rescue me. During the rescue he felt my chest and knew I was biologically a female for now.

After that, him and I argued a little bit but the most surprising thing was that he asked if I liked him. At the time I liked him very much so I said yes and we started dating. He said he thought he could be gay if it was for me. He was the first person to make me feel valid. He was my first everything. I was his first secret.

It later came to be that he didn't tell anyone about our relationship and when someone found out and questioned him about it, he called the whole thing ridiculous and said he wasn't gay. When they showed him some pictures that someone had snapped of him and I in the locker room, he outted me. Saying that even though we were dating he wasn't gay because I wasn't a real boy. That's what hurt the most.

After that, I was repeatedly sexually harassed until I left the school. 

This was the First Transition.  

[francu-s]

Laments in 3 parts

Lament part I

Not Les Mis related just sayin’... what you find here are: feelings, life and a couple of progress pics to lessen the pain.

I know my posts are... sparse in number, to say the least. I also know that most of my followers started to follow me due to my les mis related drawings. So every time when I felt like sharing some personal details, or write a random post, I was like “ow no, don’t do it, you just waste others' time, nobody cares about your shit and so-called 'problems', they are just whinings anyway (fuck, if you want to know what 'problem' really means, check out the news)."

Almost everyone knows this feeling I guess - when your bitch of mind is your worst enemy.  

But... maybe we should take it as a challenge.

Take it as a challenge and resist the urge to say 'sorry' after telling what needs to be told, or taking the blame for something what has nothing to do with you. Say 'no' to things what you don't want to do, and don't feel bad about it. Say 'no' to shame, sorrow, doubt and fear.

Harder than one might think! I try to live like this since last month and still fail in it every day. Like, I have deleted 5 'sorry'-s and 14 self-degrading sentences so far. I do not want to say sorry for my feelings anymore, or see them a burden what's unfair to share. If writing them out helps me then I have to do so.

To be honest, I wanted to put a "keep reading" button at the very beginning, but then I realized - that's exactly the root of the problem. The need to hide away even from myself, to feel unworthy, and frightened by exposure.  

And the sad truth is that whatever happened in the past, I did this to myself. It was not a conscious decision to close up like a seashell of course, but it's time to take responsibility for myself. I have to open up. I have to re-learn how to let things in, and out. How to let a person close, be an old friend or a stranger. How to trust.

I want to be brave and happy again. I want to get better.  

So I refuse to put that "keep reading" button there.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Lament part II

And now... let's practise this "sharing" thing.

I work as an au-pair right now, and the little girl I look after always asks somebody to check on her after bedtime. This person is usually her mummy but she travels a lot (like, for 4 days or one whole week) due to her work, and the task then falls on me. Her mom said it isn't really necessary to do so, though - if she is sleeping she will never know if you checked on her or not. The surprising thing is that this possibility of cheating has never occurred to the little girl. Well, I skipped the check-ons many times (still do) I admit that, but I felt bad about it so I usually crept to the door as she asked, but did not go into the room. Mostly bc she was a very poor sleeper in my first couple of months with her and did not wish to wake her up accidently and screw up my night with it.

It was too good to last for long. After the third time period or so alone, she finally stated the logical question:

"How will I know if you checked on me?"

Lol, how indeed...

So that night I made her very first bedtime note. Just a silly drawing on a piece of paper, a little girl in her bed and a short message (something like "I was here at 21:15"). I made three more at that week.

It worked. She loved them.

And the thing is, her mom loved them even more. She liked them so much that she asked me to draw some more so she can collect them and put them on the wall in a nice frame, well how lovely that would be.

I was flattered and happy, said OK but from that minute I just didn't feel so thrilled about this whole bedtime note thing. As that Lakota proverb says: "Force, no matter how concealed, begets resistance." I have made more than 60 bed-time notes so far but only 10 or 15 which I really felt like, "wow I got I good idea for this one, let's do it" (I might share some of them later on). And this - to be unhappy while drawing and almost unable to perform - made me wonder if it was a good idea to pursue this utopia, to draw for a living. And I don't really dare to look at the bottom of this question bc the next logical one is this: "What to do, then?"

And the answer is... nothing. I don't want to do anything. I feel no calling, no enthusiasm by anything, or not for long enough. And I am tired and numb by fear.

The worst thing that maybe drawing IS part of the problem. ("Am I a part of the cure? Or am I part of the disease?") I can't say I'm happy when I'm drawing but I'm in this flowing, timeless state and I feel nothing then. Nothing in a good way. I thought that helps. But maybe this is just a defensive mechanism on my part - I draw bc it makes (made) me feel safe. I draw to isolate myself from the world in body, mind and soul. To shut down, don't think, just be. To procrastinate dealing with Real Life.

All I know that it makes me angry when I feel like drawing and I can't, or when I have to draw something else what I feel for (even if the former is for free and the latter is for money... especially then).

Btw money - let's get back to my host mom/boss. 2 weeks ago she asked if I would draw a picture for her company. She offered 20 pound for it and I said yes bc it actually did seem interesting, so why not? So I asked about the details but haven't gotten much, only vague ideas. I made sketches, made modifications as her idea got more clear (but not much clearer). Never, ever say yes to a job where the customer has no idea what she/he/they actually wants! (yep it seems evident now...).

I have shoved her every progress, she was happy with them.

Then, at the very end of the project, she said there was a different style in her mind. Hand-made watercoloured picture to name it.

For God's sake, man... She knew how my style looks like. She knew I was working on the computer. She saw all the WIP pics.

I thought back the late week then - all the hours I spent drawing it, all the night I could have spent working on something else, or just sleep. I mean, there was at least 3 days when I did not get away from the computer for 5 constant hours, not even to pee. I was thinking of the burning sensation in my eyes (not crying, just too much hours in front of the computer). I was doing some quick maths then - how much time did I waste on this, exactly?... Let's be gracious here - 20 hours or so.

Let's just pretend for a funny moment that I actually hold a proper job, and also pretend that a proper job can be compared to art.

The minimum wage over 25 is currently 7.20 pound per hour in the UK, I just checked it. If you are an apprentice then 3.40, this is the minimum of minimums.  

When I said OK to this project I did not do it for the money, but anyway, let's just take out our pocket calculator, shall we? (if you mess with the zero then you don't even need one:)

20 x 7.20 = 144 20 x 3.40 = 68

So. At that point, all my sense of humor has left me.

And the worst part? I felt disappointed - in myself. I felt I failed her. That the whole shit is my fault. And that after all this work, I still owe her. I owe her a finished piece of art, watercoloured as she wants, even if watercolouring (OK, colouring in general) is as far out of my comfort zone as it is possible. I am the line-art type and not the colour type of person. But I felt I have to become a master of watercolour for next day no matter what and DO THE THING.

She has been so kind to print the line-art for me. I told her that I try to do my best but for watercolouring you have to use aquarelle paper.

Some harmful, ill determination and maximalism what made me finish this project. I bought paper, brushes, watercolours, all from my own money. I was not even thinking anymore. If any HR manager asks me during a job interview if I am a dedicated person, I shall tell them this story. (Then they can send me away for being such an idiot.)

Yes, I know I am an idiot. What else can I be when I still feel disappointed in myself, convinced that she did not like the final piece and only that damned English Politeness made her say what she said, and that I almost refused to take the 20 pound when she gave it to me today?

I reckon everyone reading this has already guessed that the whole post is about "releasing some steam". Here, I release some of the progress pics, too, out of gratitude that you haven't clicked on the "unfollow" button yet:

The original concept what I got: 1) hares 2) big hats.

Some random sketches and stages:

 She wanted only 3 hares having tea and cylinders like the Mad Hatter's in Alice in Wonderland. (couldn't you just say this much at the very beginning?)

Line art without the hats

Final line-art

Here is the flower border what she asked for (and what I spent one of those constant 5 hours on), and which was not needed after all.

Before colouring

Finished colouring (it's a fabric company and they wanted to show off their new collection on the hats)

Desperate attempt to make it less line-work-ish

Final watercoloured shit

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Lament part III

The gall of me. I am not only an idiot, but an ungrateful, selfish one.

I hesitated to post this as my mind has been mocking me with one word during the whole time while writing it:

fanfiction

I plan to dedicate a proper post for this topic alone some time. For now, I just want to say that reading fanfictions is, shame or not, one of the most important aspect of my life. I have been reading them for more than a decade now, but they were my fuel of life in the last for 3 years or so. I can't be grateful enough for all the stories which kept (and still do keep) me going, and the authors who share their work, not for 20 pound or for one million as they deserve, but for free, without any lament.

If I were religious I would say: God bless you all. I wish you the very best and everything what you might wish for yourselves.

[irescot]

Ireland Tour - Day 3 (9/6)

We stayed at the Lansdowne Arms Hotel in Kenmare, a pretty little town with a couple of streets that were chock full of restaurants, pubs, and a million shops of every description.

We had breakfast at the hotel and there were two servers, a younger one whose name I didn't get and an older one called Mary that was delightful and friendly and helpful.  After breakfast we piled into the van, and next thing we know, Mary come running over and gets in the bus, and starts singing Rose of Tralee in a good enough voice and animated gestures.  She clearly was having a ball singing.  We gave her a big hand and she left.  Another Jason arranged surprised.  We were going to really miss this guy.  

Jason told us that Rose of Tralee really referred to a beauty competition that is held each year in Tralee.  Any female of Irish ancestry is permitted to participate, regardless of where she lives in the world.  This year's competition was won by an Irish-American from Chicago.  

Jason had prepared a map of Scotland where he outlined the route we were going to follow and the stops, and I finally realized that I had not taken a picture of it for reference, so I asked him to pass it back and before I got it, everybody else realized they also wanted to take a picture of it.   This morning we were going to a Sheep Dog demonstration at a local farm.  Over our first dinner, Carol had told some people all about the one we saw in Scotland.  We were curious whether there would be any differences.  The farm was called Kissane Sheep Farm in Moll's Gap, Kenmare, and there's lots of pictures of what the farm looked like.  What you don't get from them is how big the farm was.  They guy had 1700 baby lambs this year, and has another 2000.  So he really needs the sheepdogs.  He uses border collies like the other guy (BTW, I found out they are called border collies because they come from The Borders, an area on the border between Wales and England).

He doesn't use whistling like the other guy, but a lot of spoken commands. He made them bring the flock to him (a small part of his flock) and then put them back in a specific place, made them bring them to a small corral and be penned, and a couple of other maneuvers.  I didn't think it was an interesting demo like the other one, but this guy told us more about the economics of a sheep farm, and it's very hard to make a living.  He says he couldn't keep going if he hadn't diversified wherever possible, including doing this stuff for tourist buses (it was said very matter of fact, no bitterness), and he also has joint ventures with people who produce products for which he can provide source materials, like hand cream with sheep lanolin, which both Sharon and I bought. He says he got $1 pound per kilo of wool this year. The market is depressed at this point so he is storing his wool, hoping it will come back.  

Well intentioned people keep telling them to get Marino sheep, since the wool is so sought after, but they are not native to Ireland and they would not do well in Ireland's weather.  So he just keeps going finding ways to survive.  It was a sad story, especially when we found out he is something like 6th generation sheep farmer.  

We were going to Killarney National Forest today for a jaunty ride.  A jaunty is just a horse-drawn cart that has seats along the sides that face each other, with a canopy to keep out the worst of the rain should it come.  They keep blankets in the jaunties for days like today, when it was really cold.  The jaunty season I believe will be coming to an end soon.

But before that, we went back on the Ring of Kerry and stopped at the Ladies' View lookout, named after Queen Victoria's ladies-in-waiting who stopped there and were entranced by the view.  Took pictures, but you knew that, didn't you?

A little further on there was a waterfall just a short 5-10 minute walk up a somewhat steep grade road. I think that's where there was a Leprechaun crossing sign was, but I noticed it too late, after we passed it.  Carol, Sharon and I stayed in the van, and instead took a comfort stop and took pictures at the level we were, where the water from the waterfall flowed.  

Then we entered the Killarney National Forest.  Most of us on the coach had given Jason a gratuity earlier, now others did it too.  He gave each of us a big hug (or manly handshake for the guys) and that was that. Sniff.

We went to the jaunty area and since we had 13 it took three jaunties, one with room for 5 and two with 4. Since they all looked pretty much the same, I wondered how they handled 5, and it was by putting the 5th person up front with the driver.  As we went around the park (it was supposed to be an hour, but it was more like half an hour) with Sally pulling our particular jaunty, the driver (sorry, I remember the horse's name, but not the driver) would activate (he was very robotic) and deliver a factual piece in a totally affectless voice.  On the left, those black cows are Kerry cows. I had a little bit of trouble understanding all he said, but it seems to have been mostly me.  We saw Muckross House (very grand and beautiful), a place where the jaunty ride would end.  Then a tree alley which was Friar's Walk.  Then we stopped at the Muckross Friary, which was, naturally, in ruins.  I took a millions pictures. This stop is what made them claim it was an hour ride.  

Pretty place architecturally.  In the middle of the cloister walk, there was a giant tree.  It turned out to be a yew, a tree we had been told was poisonous.  It apparently produces little red berries whose pit is very poisonous, although the flesh of the berry is just fine.  Yew was also used to make the longbows which were used which devastating effect in olden wars.

Stupid me also walked up (and later down) a spiral staircase, but at least I got some interesting pictures.  

We got back to the jaunty before the 4th person, and so the jaunty driver took pictures of the three of us in the back of the jaunty, and a picture of the whole thing this time including Sally.  

Took pictures showing the other jaunties ahead of us, and later showed Captain, the horse pulling a jaunty with other people from our party, riding very close to us.  We were able to reach out an pat his head without having to move much. More Kerry cows, views, trees; my usual suspects.  

We were deposited at Muckross House Conservatory (which would be Conservancy for us) where we had some lunch after we wandered around lost looking for the restaurant.  We passed a wooden sculpture that kinda looked like a heart.  Then we went looking for Henry our new driver.  For some reason most of us decided to just mill around, but Carol decided to go out looking for him and as a reward, she found him and beckoned to us to come join her and Henry.

We said hello and he made sure we knew the safety rules (again) and then we went off to the Dingle Peninsula. After the Beare Peninsula we had been on the Kerry Peninsula.  Each of them is further north, with Dingle being the northernmost.  

Henry was also very nice, but we didn't warm up to him the same way; it may just be a question of time, of which we have a dwindling amount.  But he certainly knew his stuff and told it well.  We stopped at Inch Beach, which is apparently a famous surfer beach, although today was windy, cold and inhospitable looking.  

Then he started telling us about a guy called Tom Crean, a British Navy officer who was in the right place at the right time and got picked to go on Scott's expedition to the Antarctic in the early 1910's. Scott came in second to Roald Amundsen, but that was just sort of the middle of the story.  There was a PBS documentary that I remember watching which told the story and it was a fascinating one.  Tom Crean was a real hero of that expedition who committed various acts of bravery and was responsible for rescuing a lot of people.  

He was on all three British polar expeditions, his last one the infamous Shackleford expedition.  They survived for month trapped on the ice floes after their ship was crushed and journeyed with Shackleford and four others in a 21-foot lifeboat 800 miles across the South Atlantic armed with only a sextant.  When they reached South Georgia he had to scale the uncharted glaciers to reach a settlement on the other side of the island, to reach help for the colleagues left behind.  He received the "Albert Medal" for bravery.

Much later he opened a pub called the South Pole Inn in Annascaul, next to the river of the same name, and his home town, and ran it with his wife until his death in 1938, at age 61, of a burst appendix.  

So that's where Henry was taking us, to Annascaul to see the South Pole Inn and go inside and see the many old pictures and mementos.  Took very few pictures.  

Finally we drove on to the town of Dingle on the Dingle Peninsula to our next overnight stop, the Dingle Bay Hotel, where we are staying two nights.  Yay!

One thing we hadn't done yet is listen to some traditional Irish music.  Dingle is supposed to be a good place for it.  So after we checked in, we decided to make a reservation with the hotel for dinner and music.  Dinner at 8 and the music starting at 8:45.  

We got settled in, put my feet up for an hour or so and then it was time to go to the restaurant.  We were seated at a table in a special raised section by the window and didn't think anything of it, but at around 8:30 three musicians walked in and started setting up and warming up and we realized that we were going to be two tables away from the musicians.  Good and bad.  Good because easy to listen to, bad in case we didn't want to stay.  Turned out good.  The food was good and the traditional Irish music was good.  (The Drambuie was also good.)

Then it got to be near 10 and Carol slipped away.  Around 10:15 we also got up and went to our rooms and went to sleep.

And that was the end of Day 3 (9/6) of the Ireland Tour.