Church bells. Cow manure. The sun staying up way to goddamn late. All of this just brings me back and makes me feel right at home. You could almost say the residence resonates with me.
But. Catholic vs. Protestant? The Orangemen? That just blows me clean outta the water and slinking back to America where we have no segregation problems at all, nope, not at all. Though, even that discomfortable dissonance drags up an argument I had with a friend of mine way back in high school (ages ago, a distant memory). Her name was Anna Anderson, mine is Brandy McCluskey. She was Catholic and I was raised Protestant. The church she went to shared its spaces between both Catholics and Protestants (it was a US base church, so they have to share everything). She complained about how the Protestants and I didn’t get it. She said it was an Irish Catholic thing but never explained. YEARS later (high school, a dream, a nightmare) I get it. I mean, I don’t GET IT, but it falls into place.