You can always tell a Donegal chap by his parsimonious use of words. No, “you’ve got nice eyes”, “can I buy you a drink” or even that toe-curling old chestnut “do you come here often?”. Oh nooooo. The mating seasons too short for that Miss Manners how’s-yer-father in Donegal. Those young feller-me-lads are straight to … Continue reading In Which The Girls Ventured Forth…