Fiddler’s Moon

I’m in the banquet room at the Rodd, sitting off by myself, alone, because I can’t trust my emotion not to give way in front of the others. Matilda Murdoch is playing the fiddle. I’m transported back in time to 1600’s Ireland. I’m moved to tears. I may have to leave. I feel heart ache, starvation, death — I feel it in my very core. These are my people. I’m Irish and for the first time I feel it. I really feel it. Like I’m at a wedding, like we could all break out in a reel or jig. Like I could be dressed in a hoop skirt and tight bodice. It’s sadness. It’s pain. It runs in my blood. It’s pure beauty.

This is love.

This is death.

This is life.

Mood: Out of space and time

Drinking: Merlot & Bud Light (not simultaneously)

Listening To: Matilda Murdoch on the fiddle . . . Oh danny boy

Hair: Done up real purty like

3 thoughts on “Fiddler’s Moon

Add yours

  1. My Grandmother, Matilda Murdoch is an angel here on earth! She’s awesome! Her music touches your soul! I understand what you mean when you say you were brought to tears by her music. She is an inspiration to many people and you really feel emotional when you hear her play. She has that affect on many people. I am so happy to hear you say what I’ve been feeling my whole life about my Grandmother. There is no one else like her! Thank you for your kind words.
    – Dawn Kingston


  2. Hey there all, just a note from Pete Murdoch. Aunt Mattie’s the genuine article alright–footloose and fancy free on that fiddle there. She’s a sight to see.
    One of her smiles is worth the stars in the sky. And all it takes to get on of them out of her is to grab a spare colleen and spin her around the living room a bit.



Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.

A Website.

Up ↑

%d bloggers like this: