I was in London and then Ireland for 10 days, that’s why you haven’t heard from me in a bit. The run-up to the trip was crazy, I honestly didn’t think about my Substack at all.
I went to Europe because my partner was working there for three weeks. I had never been to London before, so I met up with him there for a couple of days before following him to Dublin where he finished up work. We tacked on an extra six days and posted up in Doolin, a tiny little town on Ireland’s west coast. We stayed in a small house overlooking the ocean. We slept a ton, went on long walks over giant cliffs, pointed at every cute horse and cow we drove by, and drank 1-2 Guinnesses a day.
It was really lovely there, and the perfect place to take a break that I didn’t know I needed. The last few months have been such a gift, but too much of a good thing can still feel like too much! I’ve never been so busy and received so much attention in my entire life. I hadn’t taken a real, full day off from working in about four months. This trip was on the books long before The Cloud Report became a thing. The timing was perfect. I left days after a snowstorm, feeling like a husk of a person, and came home to flowers in bloom and trees leafing out, feeling energized. It’s good to get away, it’s good to be home.
Here are three things I loved over the last few weeks:
I admit, you drove me crazy.
The careless way you’d salt a tomato,
no napkin or plate beneath it.
Just right over the floor,
your summer snow, trusting
someone else would sweep it.
And you never took your boots off.
Only ever used half a stevia packet.
The rest would collect in the crevices
of car doors, divots no vacuum could reach.
There was nothing you couldn’t fix
with duct tape, or shoelaces
stolen from other people’s shoes.
And you broke everything
you borrowed. All those stains
you called heart-shaped.
Plus you lost my heirlooms.
Not because you didn’t care,
but because you moved so fast,
like maybe you always knew
you would leave too soon—
so why waste a minute
screwing the cap back on
the pickle jar? Do you remember
how many times you thought
something was stolen?
That we’d been invaded?
Because you couldn’t wait
that extra breath to look. You loved me
because I always found everything.
I always assured you:
nothing was taken from us.
Not even time.
It’s all such a mess—
how immaculate the house is now.
All I want is you
tracking muddy bootprints
across my life.
Come back, fix this
with my missing shoelaces.
Why did I care
that we were walking on salt?
Come home.
I will call it the beach.
Since The Cloud Report took off earlier this year, I’ve been asked for advice a lot. I love offering my unsolicited opinion, but as soon as it’s solicited, I sort of lose interest. I feel like a dumb idiot who doesn’t know what I’m doing most of the time, and it’s hard to give advice from that place, so I usually point people towards things that smarter people have said or written. I recently added this Substack to my non-advice repertoire. A project will save you!
We had a few long drives around Ireland, and naturally, we figured we should put on their national treasure, Blindboy.
The History and Social Influence of the Potato provided some good Irish history, and Meditations on the Analog Synthesiser from the Cuck Chair of a Carlow Hotel was educational and entertaining, especially as a cuck chair appreciator.
If you’re not familiar with the Blindboy Podcast… I don’t know how to describe it, but I think you should give it a whirl. My favorite episode is Valentines cards come from the Pagan ritual of slapping bare arses with the hide of a skinned Dog.
I finished a series of stories for NOFA-VT about successful land-based activism throughout history. The one below shares the story of Brazil’s MST. The first one was about the birth of the boycott in Ireland. We also shared the story of The Freedom Farmer Cooperative in Mississippi and Vermont’s organic farming movement.
This project was a dream!
Other stuff:
The Cloud Report is open for new subscribers! Subscribe by May 11 to get the May issue, which goes in the mail on May 20th.
I was in The New Yorker: A Lo-Fi Rebellion Against A.I.
I was in Seven Days: Crossing Guard Christine Tyler Hill’s Little Zine Goes Big
My cat, Roo, died last week. She was 12. She had cancer that progressed at warp speed while I was in Europe. She spent a lot of time on my lap while I wrote these dispatches to you. I miss her so much. Please hug your pets and loved ones–you truly never know how long they’ll be around.
Christine Tyler Hill
Website: christinetylerhill.com
Email: cth@christinetylerhill.com
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