A Sod of Turf.

I found this sod of turf on the footpath by the Rochestown Road, walking back from Sin's in Passage. Under the poor street lighting, and in that most bourgeois of settings, I doubted my perception of this object on the path- "Really? A sod of turf? Here?". My scepticism was strengthened by the odd shape of the object. This is not a sod-shaped sod of turf. But that's what it turned out to be, alright. An odd-shaped sod of turf. Mindful of my mother, Sadie- who, on childhood spins, always insisted that Paddy stop the car for stray sods of turf on the roadside, because these were considered lucky- I put the sod of turf in my rucka. Then, remembering, I reminded myself to ring Sadie for her birthday. Then, a car pulled up- a lost Wexford man, looking for a B&B near where I live. So, I hopped in the car, because, despite everything, we're Irish, and I couldn't see a man lost. And he had no qualms about me hopping into the car. We got him where he was going- "Thanks!", "Yer, I wouldn't see a man lost"- and I walked around two corners to my abode. I posed the odd-shaped sod of turf in the fireplace, took the picture, rang Mam, and Blipped...