Irish smugglers, struggling against the tide to land kegs of brandy, tobacco, tea, salt. A fortune to be made. Or lost.
Excise men prowling about, armed and fearing violence.
Well, sort of.
Because I, the creator of this exciting scene, am a bit of a sham. A mere Armchair Adventurer, with only imagination as my guide.
See that book on the ottoman? A dead giveaway, that. My knowledge of Ireland (the ancestral home of the McGillvarys) is laughable, gleaned not through in-person experiences (a visit to Barbara Cornthwaite being the preferred method!) but from books and pictures. How sad is that?
One does what one can, or so I tell myself. The Pacific Northwest is not so very different from the British Isles, I suppose. Though it’s on the wrong continent, supporting the wrong vegetation, facing the wrong ocean.
But, glory be, we have the right sort of rain!
And you will notice that Irishmen, like Oregonians (not to mention Pottery Barn’s advertising gurus), prefer to post photos of sunny days!