Lunchtime Photo

We spent Wednesday in the town of Kenmare. Marian made a beeline for the Kenmare Lace and Design Center, which turned out to be about the size of a large living room. It’s dedicated mostly to the lace design of the Poor Clare nuns, who founded a convent in Kenmare in the 19th century and became famous for their lace work. Nora, the proprietor, seemed thrilled to have a visitor who really knew something about this stuff, and was happy to spend hours with Marian talking about it and demonstrating various lacemaking techniques.

The pronunciation of Kenmare is hard to figure out. The locals I talked to seemed to say Ken-mair, but Nora at the lace museum said it was Ken-mahr. However, Marian says that when she answered the phone she seemed to say Ken-mahr-ee, or perhaps Ken-mahr-uh. Personally I think this is all just a way of playing mind games with the tourists. Pronounce it any way you like as long as you pay before leaving.

Kenmare hosts a street market every Wednesday. We didn’t end up buying anything, but these two guys spent a good part of the afternoon watching the shoppers go by.

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You expect the big picture, and it's our job at Mother Jones to give it to you. And right now, so many of the troubles we face are the making not of a virus, but of the quest for profit, political or economic (and not just from the man in the White House who could have offered leadership and comfort but instead gave us bleach).

In "News Is Just Like Waste Management," we unpack what the coronavirus crisis has meant for journalism, including Mother Jones’, and how we can rise to the challenge. If you're able to, this is a critical moment to support our nonprofit journalism with a donation: We've scoured our budget and made the cuts we can without impairing our mission, and we hope to raise $400,000 from our community of online readers to help keep our big reporting projects going because this extraordinary pandemic-plus-election year is no time to pull back.

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