As the School of Myth Conference woke the dead with wild poetry, music, mythic story and dancing in St. Lawrence Chapel late into Saturday night, I was coming home quietly to my family and then deep in an exhausted sleep back at Bonehill, after days of cooking, clearing and cleaning…

With the conference finished,  it was time for our wonderful American guests to head home. It’s the ordinary/extraordinary conversations over breakfast that I’ll miss… breaking open croisssants and deep feelings together…how one moment we are dunking tea bags and the next discussing divorce…

Martin arrived on Sunday, so tired out that he forgot to put his handbrake on as he parked and ended up chasing his car down the road! With a final exchange of books, whisky, hugs and a last photo in the garden, we said ‘farewell’….