Birds and Back Strand

On Thursday (October 16), we headed back to Bray for another adventure (one that sadly did not include french fries).

Looking at Google Maps one day, I noticed there was a swan sanctuary at Bray Harbour.  I love critters so I suggested to Eli on Thursday morning that we pay a visit to the sanctuary.

Bus L14 has a stop right across the street from our house, which makes it very convenient to pop over to Bray when the mood strikes.  It was even on time, wonder of wonders.  And there were no screaming hordes of children, which was another plus.

Once off the bus, it was a short walk to the harbour.  And this was our welcoming committee.

It's a little disconcerting to have these huge birds slowly and ominously approach you.  You're allowed to feed the swans, which was surprising to me.  The informational sign said that leafy green veggies were best, but they could also have bread (whole grain over refined white) because swans are smart enough to balance their diet.

I'm sure they equate every new human arrival with a promise of food, but I had to tell these lads that we didn't have anything for them.  Next time, we'll need to bring some yum-yums for them to snack upon.

Interspersed among the swans were scores of gulls, pigeons, and little sea birds that I think were turnstones (so named because of their penchant of turning stones over while looking for food).  Gulls and pigeons are fairly opportunistic, so they probably figured out early on that they might be able to snag some grub if they hung out with the swans.

We stood and watched them for a while.  At one point, as if on a silent signal, the majority of pigeons suddenly took flight, some perching on a wire, others landing on a nearby roof top.

These are mute swans.  I noticed that there were a few brown swans in the mix, and those are probably younger mute swans.

While on Google Maps, I noticed there was a small beach a short walk up the road from the swan sanctuary.  We walked across the bridge over River Dargle and after descending a concrete ramp, we were standing on Back Strand.  And it was GLORIOUS.

It's a short stretch of sandy beach and on this particular day, it was mostly deserted.  There were a couple people with dogs there when we arrived.  They left soon after, and then it was just us and the beach.  And it was perfect.

We walked along, our shoes squishing down into wet sand, enjoying the lack of people and the rushing of the waves.  When I'm on a beach, I'm forever looking for treasures.  I said to Eli, "I wish I could find some sea glass, but I imagine this place gets combed over early in the morning."  A few minutes later, I found a piece of white sea glass.

There are huge boulders along the sea wall, and we both found one to perch upon, content to look out over the water and listen to the sea.

As we sat there, a man and his dog came down onto the beach.  The dog was very excited to be there, and twice as excited to see other humans.  He came racing over to where we sat and then bolted away, creating huge divots in the wet sand.

When we were leaving, the man (who had stripped down to swim clothes) called out to us and jokingly said, "Aren't you going to have a swim?"  🙂

When it was time to go, we stopped again on the sidewalk near the swans.  A man was sitting on a bench, and there was a swan at his feet.  He gently bonked the swan on its bill and the top of its head, and the swan very contentedly leaned toward him.  It was very sweet to watch.

We got to our bus stop, and Eli checked his transit app.  It said the L14 wasn't due for 31 minutes.  Ugh.  There wasn't really anything to do in this area, so we crossed the street and sat down on a bench, resigned to waiting.  And then Eli suddenly hopped up and quickly began walking back to the stop because here came the bus.

Looking at these photos while writing this post made me smile.  THIS was the experience I was craving when we went to the nature reserve on Tuesday.  Peace and quiet and a lovely communion with softly whispering waves.

I don't know if I'll be lucky enough to have this exact moment recreated, one where it's just me and a stretch of deserted sandy beach, but I know I'll be back.

Peace and AAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!

On Tuesday, October 14, Eli and I celebrated our 20th wedding anniversary.  I had wanted to visit Knocksink Wood Nature Reserve, which is located in County Wicklow near the town of Enniskerry, about an hour south of our house.  Eli had the day off and since the weather was going to be good (cloudy, cooler, but no rain), we decided it would be a great way to spend our anniversary.

I have been longing for some peace and quiet for a while now.  All day, I'm bombarded with noise from the construction happening right outside our front door.  Over this past weekend, the young kids who sometimes visit the next-door neighbors were here, making all sorts of racket - including standing out in front of their house raising a ruckus around 11 p.m. on Saturday night.  So yeah, I was ready for some calm.

We took the tram to Glencairn and then walked a short distance to the bus stop, where we'd catch Bus 44.  After about a 20-minute wait, the bus arrived and we were on our way.

The ride was fairly quiet.  It was a weekday so there weren't a lot of riders that time of the morning.  And then all hell broke loose.

We pulled up to a stop where there had to be at least 50 children standing there.  An adult got aboard and started having a conversation with the driver.  We were all the way at the rear of the bus and couldn't hear exactly what was going on, but it appeared that whatever conveyance was supposed to have shown up to take the kids on a field trip did not show up - so could they get on our bus?

Fuck.

So the bus was bursting to the seams with 9 or 10 year olds who were hopped up because they weren't in school, and nearly every single one of them was S-C-R-E-A-M-I-N-G their conversation back and forth.  I was starting to get vertigo because of the assault on my eardrums.

They were each carrying a clipboard and I thought, "Bloody hell, they're all going to the damned park" - an idea that was further supported when I heard one of the chaperones say something about the kids doing nature-related activities.

Eli and I were both visibly relieved when all of the children exited the bus one stop before our stop, thinking perhaps there was a nature center or something they were going to visit.

We started walking back toward the park entrance, horrified when a wall of noise began drawing closer and closer to our location.

Again....fuck.

The teachers were getting the herd assembled hear the park entrance, so I started walking as quickly as I could, trying to get deeper into the woods and put some distance between myself and the shrieking wall of locusts.  Instead of feeling peaceful at this point, I was feeling pissed off.  I just wanted some damned peace - and the Universe said, "Here, have a cluster of squawking banshees instead."

Overall, it tarnished the experience because I couldn't get myself to unclench.  I had come to this place with a single, solitary goal - QUIET - and once that apple cart got tipped over and set on fire, there was no turning back.  I take responsibility for not being able to regulate my emotions but dammit, I was angry that my plans had all been shot to hell.

We moved off the path, farther back into the forest, and eventually the horde went by and much of the noise went with them.

We spent the majority of our visit near this small stream.  The water is unbelievably clear in most of the waterways I've seen here.  It was quite humid but cool, making the air feel tangible and heavy.  There was a large boulder near the water and if everything hadn't been so wet, I would've sat down on it and just let the day slide by.

There is a trail that loops through the reserve.  Eli was interested in hiking the loop, but we couldn't figure out exactly where the trail began.

By this time, my feet were bothering me a bit so it was time to find somewhere to sit down.  We left the park and walked down to our bus stop.  However, the bus wasn't scheduled to arrive for another 45 minutes so we continued walking toward Enniskerry, which was only about 5 minutes away.

As always, a library was my salvation.  Carnegie Library is a little postage stamp of a building.  I probably could've walked from front to back in about ten good-sized strides.  Tucked in a corner among the books was a couch, and I gratefully sank down upon it, glad to rest my feet and legs.  I sat there, enjoying being surrounded by books, listening to a woman reading a story to a group of enthusiastic youngsters, and staring out the window into the greenery beyond.  (In that second photo - seriously, wouldn't you love to have this view on a daily basis?)

After the refreshment of the library, we walked on to Enniskerry.  It's proper that their local library is a postage stamp because Enniskerry itself is a postage stamp.  Population is only about 2000 people.  Its claim to fame (other than being the filming location for the Disney movie Disenchanted) is being near the Powerscourt Estate, a large house and gardens which is also home to Powerscourt Waterfall, touted as the highest waterfall in Ireland at 121 meters (397 feet).

Rather than taking Bus 44 again, we decided to take Bus L15.  It was scheduled to arrive 10-15 minutes before Bus 44, and it would give us an opportunity to head for Bray.  Even so, we were still being faced with a long wait.

We got a drink at a small coffeeshop called OHSo.  I don't like coffee so I always get hot chocolate...which they were out of.  I put on a huffy attitude and said to the staff member "How dare you be out of hot chocolate when I'm here."  She chuckled and apologized.  I wound up with a can of Coke.  There was seating outside, so we took our drinks and sat down at a small table.

Hearing a sound, I glanced up and saw this friend peering at us from atop the umbrella over the table.  We had nothing for him so eventually, he grew tired of waiting and flew off.

We hopped on Bus L15 and were headed for Bray.  Even though it wasn't our planned return trip, I told Eli that on the plus side, we probably wouldn't encounter those school children on this route.

We were both hungry so it was off to Shake Dog for our second visit.  I again had a smaller portion of chicken tenders and fries (and a chocolate shake) because no stop in Bray is complete without an order of fries from Chipped.  Wanted to be sure I had room for second lunch.

After stuffing ourselves with yummy fries, it was time to head home.

I was disappointed that I hadn't been able to really connect with nature, as was my intention. But thankfully, unless something catastrophic happens, Knocksink Wood will always be there, waiting for us to return.

Magical Mystery Tour

Last night, Eli and I went to a pub in Dun Laoghaire called Walter's.  This was a trip more than nine months in the making.  Intrigued?  Read on.

About a year ago, we saw that there was going to be a concert performed by a Beatles tribute band, Let It Be-atles, at The Lighthouse pub in Dun Laoghaire.  Eli loves The Beatles and the tickets were cheap (about €22 each) so we bought two tickets for a show that was to be held in January.  And then it got moved to June.  And then it got moved to September.  And then the venue changed from The Lighthouse to Walter's.

It finally stayed in one place and on one date, so we were off.  But of course, a tale of our adventures wouldn't be complete without some kind of transportation issue.

Bus 7 was leaving from the Brides Glen stop at 5 p.m.  We had planned to eat dinner at Walter's and had reserved a table for 5:30 p.m.  We hiked down to the LUAS tram platform, and the electronic board stated that our tram was due in 8 minutes.  No problem - we had allowed ourselves some extra time to ensure we'd be at the bus stop before 5.

Typically, as the tram nears its stop, that number on the board starts to reduce.  Our number stayed a solid 8.  Eli checked the online transport site, and it said the next tram wasn't due to arrive until 5:02 - which was a couple minutes after our bus would've departed.

Sigh.

So Eli ordered a taxi and tracked its location.  It wound up somewhere across the road and down the hill from the tram platform, but we eventually located it and were on our way.  It was a bit aggravating to see that Bus 7 (the one we would've been on) was a few cars ahead of us as we approached our destination.

The traffic light on our Dun Laoghaire street reminded me of the stop lights at the crossing roads on Highway 169 (before the redesign) - it stayed green for all of four seconds, so we weren't moving much at all.  Our taxi driver finally turned to us and asked if we wanted to get out at that point.  The pub was just around the corner about a block away so it would've been stupid for us to sit in traffic with the fare meter running.  I thought it was very kind of him to offer that suggestion as it meant a little less money for him.

We walked into Walter's at 5:29 p.m. and were quickly seated.  Eli ordered pasta arrabiata and an appetizer of garlic mushrooms; I asked for bangers and mash (aka sausages and mashed potatoes).

As we waited for our food, we were regaled by the musical stylings of a duo tucked into a corner at the front of the pub - one guy on keyboards, the other one on vocals.  They performed a few tunes - "Night and Day," "The Lady is a Tramp," "They Can't Take That Away From Me," "Blueberry Hill," and "Hit the Road, Jack" to name a few.  I kept hoping they'd perform "Blue Moon" or "Someone to Watch Over Me" but it never came to pass.

It was nice to have something to partially drown out the conversation of the table next to us, as they were talking about the orange demon.  I said to Eli, "Really?  I came here to get away from that crap."

Our food arrived, and we tucked in.  I have to say that my meal was quite....meh.  Neither the sausage nor the potatoes had much flavor to them, and the slightly watery gravy didn't do a lot to improve things.  It wasn't awful - just bland and not worth €20 for sure.

It took about 30 minutes - and having to ask multiple times - for us to receive our check.  I told Eli that we could just up and walk away, and they probably would never even notice.  We didn't do that, of course.  And honestly, the wait was fine.  Since our food got to the table relatively quickly, we had a lot of time to kill between the end of the meal and being able to get into the music venue at 7 p.m.

After the check was paid, we didn't want to sit there and take up a table so we walked outside, finding the bus stop we needed to be at for the trip home before heading back into the pub and up the stairs to the second floor.

Eli showed our electronic tickets to the gatekeeper, and another person put an inked stamp on our hand to show we were allowed to be there (and I imagine for re-entry if we needed to go downstairs for any reason).  Getting the stamp reminded me of this exchange on "The Big Bang Theory":

Sheldon:  Look at this stamp.  On what authority are they permitted to mutilate patrons as they enter?
Amy:  I'm sure it'll wash off.

Sheldon:  Little comfort tonight.  I look like a Hell's Angel.

Eli had checked with the venue regarding the concert set-up.  I knew I wouldn't be able to stand for 2 hours, so I wanted to know if there would be seats available.  Eli received a response that there wouldn't be any seating and the area in front of the stage would be an open dance floor.  However, there were chairs and tables in the bar area (which still had a view to the stage), and we got there early enough to snag a table.

We sat and watched as the bar began to fill up.  I told Eli I was surprised by the number of older people (65+) that were there; he said he was more surprised by the number of young people who were attending.

He grabbed a Rockshore Apple Cider, and we settled in to wait.  And wait.  And wait.

The show was scheduled to begin at 7:30; the start time was closer to 8.

Earlier, I had asked Eli what he thought their first song would be.  He said "I Wanna Hold Your Hand" and I said "Hard Day's Night."  While I was writing down notes from the evening before the show started, I said, "Did you say the first song would be 'She Loves You'?" and he corrected me.

And their first song was...."She Loves You."  😄  And here's the remainder of their set list, in performance order:

2.  I Wanna Hold Your Hand (ooooh, Eli - so close)

3.  All My Loving

4.  From Me to You

5.  Love Me Do

6.  This Boy

7.  I Should've Known Better

8.  8 Days a Week

9.  Hard Day's Night

10. Can't Buy Me Love

11. Help!

12. I Feel Fine

13. Nowhere Man

14.  Please Please Me

15. Ticket to Ride

16. Day Tripper

17. Paperback Writer

18. All You Need is Love

19. Sgt Pepper's Lonely Hearts Club Band

20. With a Little Help from My Friends

21. Drive My Car

22. We Can Work It Out

23. Here Comes the Sun

24. Something

25. Let It Be

26. Come Together

27. Hello, Goodbye

28. Penny Lane

29. Ob-La-Di, Ob-La-Da

30. Ballad of John and Yoko

31. Don't Let Me Down

32. Get Back

33. I Saw Her Standing There

34. Twist and Shout

35. Yellow Submarine

36. Hey Jude

37. Sgt Pepper's Reprise

The members of the band looked and sounded nothing like The Beatles, nor do I think that was their intent.  I appreciated that because when a tribute band does a poor imitation, it detracts from the enjoyment of the performance for me.

They were all musically talented, however.  I was enjoying watching the bass player.  My dad played bass in a band with his brothers, and one of my all-time favorite bass lines is from Paul McCartney.  (Here's that bass line in tutorial form - the guy in the video brings my dad to mind because that's a shirt my dad would have totally worn:  Paul McCartney & Wings - Goodnight Tonight Bass Cover )

It was enjoyable to watch the crowd.  Some of those older people were really shaking it!  One silver-haired guy had his hands in the air like he just didn't care.  But bless his heart, the movements of said hands had very little to do with the beat of the music so that was making me giggle.  One lady dancing reminded me of that girl in the Peanuts dance scene who just kinda throws her head back and forth:

We were right next to the bar, and a LOT of liquor was changing hands all night.  I found it interesting that the volume of singing and the numbers of dancers increased as the alcohol consumption increased.  Coincidence?

Once the concert ended, we went back out into the night and walked up the street to our bus stop.  Bus 7 was due in about 10 minutes.  And if you believe that, I have some oceanfront property in Minnesota to sell you.

Eli checked the transit site online.  Bus 7 had vanished (because of course it did), but Bus 7A was due to arrive in about 10 minutes.  And Bus 7A actually did show up, wonder of wonders.

The only issue is that Bus 7A wouldn't take us to the Brides Glen stop, so we'd have to de-bus and get Bus 111.  We rode a little way and then got off at a dark, middle-of-nowhere stop (it really wasn't in the middle of nowhere - the main drag road was a block or two away - but it sure felt like it that late at night).  We crossed the street to await Bus 111.  Eli again checked the transit site, and Bus 111 was supposed to arrive in 10 minutes....or later.

I was like, "Screw this."  We had no assurance that Bus 111 would appear in 10 minutes.  I had a sinking suspicion that we'd stand there for 10 minutes, only to discover Bus 111 had also gone into the Bermuda Triangle of buses.

It was quite a hike back to the Brides Glen LUAS stop (nearly a mile) but eventually, we were sitting on the tram, ready for the trip back home.

As we waited for the tram to get underway, I said to Eli, "I'm glad you had a good time."  He said, "I did.  Didn't you?"

My experience wasn't unpleasant.  It was just....meh.  I appreciate many of The Beatles' songs, but they aren't a favorite group of mine.  Would it have been different if it had a been a tribute band for Michael Bolton, Billy Joel, or Elton John?  Or do I really just not enjoy live musical performances anymore?  I have never really been Concert Girl - I can probably count on one hand the number of concerts I've gone to.

Quite frankly, I favored the more intimate experience of the two guys who were playing during our meal, and I think I'd probably feel the same if we went to a pub that had a traditional small group playing in a corner.  Even so, I was grateful to hear that Eli enjoyed the show since he's the big Beatles fan.

We finally walked in the front door around 11:30 p.m.  The cats, who are usually fed around 10 p.m., were not amused.

They Say It's Your Birthday

Last Friday, September 19, was my birthday.  It was grey and rainy because, you know - Ireland.

My mom is able to send voice recordings via email, and she sang the Casey Jones birthday song for me - something she's been doing as long as I can remember.  For those of you who are from the Midwest and are of an age, you might remember this song.  For everyone else, you can listen to it here:  Happy Birthday Song by Casey Jones - YouTube

I decided to spend the day knocking around the local mall.  Eli doesn't much care for browsing when we're out shopping, and I like to look around, so off I went to Carrickmines Shopping Centre, which is a mere two tram stops up the line.

It's a bit of a hike from the tram stop to the mall complex, and there's a large open field along the way.  We hadn't seen our little deer friends for a while, but two younglings were out having breakfast.  I stopped to watch them for a little while, taking a couple pictures, before going on my way.  There was a gal coming in the opposite direction who had seen me stop and when I looked back, she had stopped in the same place and had her phone in picture-taking position.

As my purse is falling apart, I went to TK Maxx and found one that can be converted into a backpack if needed, so that will be quite useful.  I wandered around looking at Halloween decor and fondling the soft blankets and pillows.

I wanted to get a little treat so I went to Krispy Kreme...and walked right back out when I saw that each donut cost €4.  I know it was a special occasion but that was too rich for my blood.  I'm not spending that much on donuts that are mediocre, at best.

Instead, I went to Dealz and got a bunch of snacks for €8.

After returning home to offload my purchases, I went back out to go to Tesco Express, which is one tram stop in the opposite direction.  I had collected a lot of empty Coke bottles and wanted to get rid of them.  I think I've mentioned it before, but Ireland charges you a small fee when you buy a bottled drink and you can recoup that amount by taking the bottles to a store with a collection machine.  It's to encourage people to recycle.

There's a small area with deli sandwiches, drinks, and snacks.  They run a meal deal where for €4.50, you can buy a sandwich or other entree, a bag of chips or other snack, and a drink.  I was very excited to see that they had my favorite hot ham and cheese panini!  Sooo good with the crunchy bread and gooey cheese.  I also got a small bag of Cool Original Doritos (ranch dressing/seasoning is not a thing in Ireland so Cool Ranch Doritos are Cool Original Doritos here) and a bottle of chocolate milk.  Ambrosia.

On Saturday, Eli and I went to Dundrum.  I dropped off some library books that I had read, and then we walked to the mall.

We visited both Easons and Dubray, which are bookstores.  I enjoyed walking around but didn't buy anything.

My real reason for wanting to go to Dundrum Shopping Centre was that I wanted to go to Eddie Rockets (aka Johnny Rockets) and have a cheeseburger.  We hiked to the restaurant, only to find that it wasn't open yet.  Argh!

Outside the mall, there's a water feature so we sat on a low stone bench and watched the fountain go through its paces.  Across the way, there was a small boy running back and forth, back and forth.  I told Eli that it was a shame we couldn't figure out a way to put a battery pack on small children because that's a lot of energy that could be harnessed for future use.

The restaurant was due to open at 11:30 so we headed back inside the mall.  The door to the eatery was open/unlocked so we went in.  A staff member came over and said they weren't open yet, and I was like "It's 11:29."  I wasn't rude but I was verging on hangry at this point.  We were seated, and the wait staff let us know that the grills wouldn't be up and going for 10-15 minutes, and we were fine with that.  We amused ourselves by flipping through all the songs on the little jukebox at the table.  They actually work - 20 cents per song - but we didn't request any music.

I had a bacon double cheeseburger with waffle fries and a chocolate shake.  There is no photo because I inhaled said meal without sparing any time to take a picture.

As we were walking back to the tram, there were a couple women handing out pamphlets.  I'm not usually quick enough on my feet to refuse them, so I accepted one from the gal who told me "Jesus loves you."  And in the back of my mind, I was thinking of Mitch Hedberg's bit where he said, "When someone hands you a flyer, it's like they're saying 'Here, YOU throw this away.'"

I didn't throw it away though.  I put it into our recycling bin at home.

And here is the author at 58.  This was my second birthday while in Ireland - the first after we had been here for a full year.  I still feel some dissonance; it's almost like I forget where I am, forget that I'm all the way across half a continent and an ocean from what I used to call home.

After I finished all my running around on Friday, I sat for a little while in reflection.  My life is sliding by, seemingly unnoticed by me.  I know that my time here on this planet is finite.  If I didn't already realize that, losing my best friend when she was only 54 years old put it into sharp focus.

I just started re-reading Martha Beck's Finding Your Own North Star.  She talks about everyone having an essential self and a social self - the essential self is your core, the thing that remains constant; the social self is created by the interactions we have with others.  When we nurture our essential self, we get closer to who we are, and it helps us find a purpose that's fulfilling and heart-felt.

The touchstone - the North Star - that I return to again and again in my own life is that I want to be a teacher and a healer.  Now my task is to figure out exactly what form that will take.  Maybe by next year at this time, I'll have found it.

One Year

We marked our first year on Irish soil at approximately 11 a.m. on August 9.  To celebrate, we partook of one my favorite celebratory activities:  Going out to eat.

In the Carrickmines shopping centre, there's a restaurant called Barry & Browne.  It's quite small but even so, it would always be packed whenever we saw it, which is typically a good indication of the quality of the food and ambiance.

I had as yet to experience a full Irish breakfast, and I figured there was no better time than our one-year anniversary.  A "full Irish" can have a few variations but it typically consists of eggs, toast, beans, potatoes, bacon, sausage, white pudding, and black pudding (sometimes there are mushrooms but my version did not include this).  I also ordered some garlic parmesan fries to round out the meal.

Here's a photo of my feast:

Hidden beneath the eggs is the bacon.  In Ireland, bacon is called a rasher (rasher can also indicate the amount of bacon, e.g. one piece).  It's a slice of back bacon and different from a strip of bacon (here, the strips of bacon that most Americans are familiar with are called "streaky bacon").

The two round sausage-patty-looking items are the white pudding (which is brown) and the black pudding (which is black).  As you have no doubt guessed, "pudding" means something different here as well.  The word is thought to be derived from the Old French word "boudin" which referred to encased ingredients like a sausage.  Pudding typically consists of oatmeal, onions, spices, suet/fat, and sometimes pork.  Black pudding has an extra ingredient:  Blood.

Yes, they add blood to the mix for black pudding.

I eat meat which, of course, contained blood at some point.  However, unless I were eating prime rib, my hamburger or steak would not be drenched in blood.

As I was eating the black pudding, the thing that kept going through my mind, getting louder and louder, was "They add blood to this.  They add blood to this.  THEY FREAKIN' ADD BLOOD TO THIS!"  That turned my stomach a bit, and I only wound up consuming half of the patty.  But now I can say that I've tried black pudding, and I know I don't want to eat it ever again if I can help it.

Apart from that, my meal was really good.  I can't comment on the beans, however, because those got shuffled over to the vegetarian at the table (Eli).

After we got home, we talked about our successes and challenges of being here for a year.  We also talked about what we've liked so far.  (My friend Leanne once asked me what my favorite thing has been so far and what I'm looking forward to doing in the future, so I'll also answer that here.)

My biggest challenge was probably my relocation depression.  Everything was alien to me, I was cut off from any nearby supports (besides Eli), and I felt as though I were trying to take root in hostile soil.  Nothing felt familiar or safe.  In looking back through my blog, I remembered being terrified to ride the tram one stop to the small grocery store in our sister building.

I recall with great clarity one evening in December, nearing the holidays.  I was alone in the apartment (Eli was still at work).  It was about 4 p.m., and it was dark.  (I'm not kidding - in the winter, it gets dark here very early.)  I started to feel suffocated by my isolation.  As I sat on the couch, I looked out the window, across the courtyard.  In the building opposite my position, one of the apartments had their blinds open so I could see people sitting around a table.  The lights of their Christmas tree twinkled across the darkness, and I noticed one person playing with a toddler.  And...I don't know.  For a moment or two, I suddenly didn't feel quite so alone.  Granted, I still had many more weeks of working through depression and feeling unsettled but ever so briefly, things were okay.

More mundane challenges have been trying to find a job.  A few weeks after we arrived, I actually had two interviews with the local Make-a-Wish chapter which is 10 minutes away via tram.  I felt pretty good about it - but they went with another candidate.  I'm being a bit more discerning about my job hunt.  I'm trying to find a position where I'll actually enjoy the job - not just do it because I CAN do it.

I also sometimes have great difficulty understanding someone with a heavy accent.  This has always been an issue for me, and I hate talking on the phone because that increases my inability to figure out what someone is saying.  I'm hoping that as I'm here longer, my comprehension will improve.

Trying to get accustomed to the weather has been interesting.  Sometimes it's windy as hell here.  One time, Eli was coming home from the grocery store.  He got off the tram and as he was walking toward the apartment building, one of his bags of chips (sorry, crisps) got sucked out of a shopping bag and was gone in a flash.  In the summer when the sun is out, it feels like it's right on top of you and any warm day is difficult since houses don't have air conditioning and some, like ours, don't even have a blower to move air around inside.  It's been amusing because at times, I'll be out in a T-shirt and shorts and some of the people around me are wearing heavy puffer jackets or parkas.

My successes have included not being terrified of riding the tram anymore!  When there's been a glitch in tram service while I've been out and about, I have a momentary flash of panic and then I start looking for an alternate way home.  I'm not as comfortable in regards to the bus as trying to figure out routes can be a little confusing.

I'm also starting to feel more settled here.  Things don't seem quite as foreign.  Of course, moving to a new place set me back a bit because I'm having to learn the rhythms of a new home and new surrounding.  However, I don't have the added stress of learning my way around a new country so that's helped the process go a bit more smoothly.

As for the things I've enjoyed about being here, first and foremost is that I'm not in the US right now.  Don't get me wrong - I am still very much impacted emotionally by the clusterfuckery that's going on across the pond, but it's nice not to be stuck in the middle of it.  There are racist idiots everywhere, including Ireland, but I'm not inundated by it here.  Also refreshing is the fact that "gun culture" is not a thing here.  Random violence can happen anywhere, but I don't really fear being gunned down at the store or the library.

Another nice thing is that we're very close to the sea.  On our walk to/from the tram platform, we can look out and actually see the expanse of water.  That's pretty cool.

Ireland has very good island-wide transport and, with it being relatively small, you can get from the east coast to the west coast by train in about 2.5 or 3 hours.  One of the things I'm looking forward to is being able to do more exploring and learning more about the places and history that make up this country.

Our journey here seems like a fuzzy blur or, as Eli has said, seems like it happened to someone else.  I'm glad we both documented the move, but I admit it gives me some anxiety when I re-read those chronicles, brings back the immense stress we endured to get here.

I do miss my home state from time to time.  I follow some Minnesota folks on the socials, and I feel a little pang when someone posts a photo of Lake Superior or talks about all the great food at the State Fair.

It was still dark when I got up this morning.  I pulled the window shade aside and glanced up at the lightening sky.  There was Orion, shining brightly in the inky blue-black darkness.  I remember standing outside in Minnesota, looking up to see the stars, always happy when I could find Orion.  Seeing the same constellation here reminded me that I'm not as far from home as I think.

Not Enough Salt in the World

Things have settled down a bit (knock wood) but when we were first moving into this house, it felt like the place was cursed and that there wasn't enough salt in the world to cleanse it.  I'm basically recounting this to have a record, even though the worst of things seems to have passed (wood knocking intensifies).

Our official move-in date was July 11 - one of the hottest days of the year.  It was near 80 degrees.  While I realize that doesn't sound terrible, you have to understand that the heat here is different.  And that houses are built to retain heat.  And that houses don't have air conditioning.  And that some houses - like ours - don't have a ventilation system to help move air around.  And that the blinds on our five southern-facing windows block the sun but seem to magnify the heat, so it feels like a blast furnace when you're standing two feet away.

It was 95 degrees inside the house when we moved in.  We had no fans because up until this point, we hadn't needed them.  Our apartment had constant air movement and was on the north side of the building, protected from the sun.

Eli and the cats stayed at the house that night; I, however, knew I wouldn't be able to sleep so I headed back to the apartment, which we had under lease until July 31.

I came back over on Saturday morning (July 12), and it wasn't long before I was headed back to the apartment with cats in tow.  It was just too hot, and we were fearful it would impact the cats' health.  Eli took a long, hot slog around trying to find some fans but, with the heat wave, there were none to be found.

For the most part, Eli stayed at the house while I was at the apartment with the kitties.  There was at least one night where he went back over to the apartment to escape the heat and have access to internet, since we didn't have that set up yet in the house (more on that later).

We moved the cats back on Sunday, July 20.  They seemed a bit more comfortable, not as skittish upon arrival, since they'd already spent some time at the house.  Norris started panting a bit but otherwise he was acting normally; eventually, his breathing normalized.

Patrick somehow got on top of the kitchen cabinets AND he got up on the banister overlooking a drop onto the stairs.  And at some point, Norris got up on the banister.  Because I wasn't stressed enough without worrying that they were going to plunge off the side and fall onto the stairs.

I went back over to the apartment to get some of my things.  I started up the dishwasher to clean up the dishes from the morning and cried a bit as I was feeling overwhelmed.

The house windows in the dining area and living room face the sidewalk, and Patrick especially enjoys sitting on the sill.  More than one person walked by and smiled when they saw him.

I felt quite uneasy being at the house by myself.  I think I felt the same when we were first at the apartment.  Part of my issue at the house was that there's no air handler here making a constant white noise.  With that missing, I felt very edgy and anxious.

Now I'm going to launch into the nightmare we endured while trying to get internet connected.

At the start of July, Eli called Virgin Media and signed up for their internet/TV package.  They shipped the necessary equipment, but said someone needed to come out and do something so things would work.  Our tech appointment was scheduled for Tuesday, July 22 between noon and four p.m.

At 5:30 p.m. on that date, it became clear that no one was going to show up.  I called Virgin Media to ask where in the hell the tech was since no one showed up and we received no email/text/call stating they weren't coming. Wait time to speak with someone was 30 minutes, and they shut down at 6 p.m. I tried to do a chat, and that sent me into an endless loop of nothing.

Gunning for bear, I called them Wednesday morning at 9 a.m., planning to ask what the hell happened and when I could expect someone to come out THAT DAY to get this hooked up. But since I'm not the account holder (Eli is), they wouldn't talk to me.

So Eli called (keep in mind, reader, that this particular week was his busiest week of the month at work).  Virgin Media uses a third-party tech service for their installs and according to the person Eli spoke with at this third-party company, Virgin screwed up while placing the order so the tech service never got it.

Eli then called Virgin Media (because, again, no one was going to talk with me as I wasn't the account holder).  The representative he talked to refused to take responsibility for fucking things up and refused to make things right by getting someone out to us ASAP - she said their next tech appointment was August 5.

Furious with their disregard, we canceled our TV/internet order, not wanting to give them one more cent.

You would think this would be the end of the tale, wouldn't you?  That we'd go to another provider and get things set up, no problem.  HAHAHAHAHAHAHA.  You poor sweet summer child.

I contacted Sky Media to get TV/internet service and placed an order for these services.  However, the Sky rep told me that Virgin still had an active line to our address and until that was released, they couldn't hook us up to their internet service.  The rep asked if we could provide our Virgin Media account number so they could try to do a transfer.

Eli had to talk to Virgin Media a thousand times, trying to get our account number and trying to see when they were actually going to release the line.  Allegedly that was going to happen within 24-48 hours of cancellation, and 48 hours was end of day on Friday.  They said they'd send Eli an email confirmation of the cancellation - to date, we are still waiting for that email.

Friday (July 25), I got a text from Sky Media telling me there was an issue with the internet order.  I contacted Sky and they said the internet portion of our order had been canceled because the account number Virgin provided wasn't working.  Rep put the order in again to see what would happen, and it was rejected again.

Monday (July 28), I got another call from Sky and the rep asked me to contact Virgin to ask for more information (which, of course, would've meant that ELI would've had to have contacted Virgin to ask for more information).

Reader, I was done at that point.  Simply done.

I told the Sky rep to cancel the internet order (which was moot since it had been rejected and wasn't really in play anyway).  I said I was tired of being in between Virgin and Sky, and Virgin wasn't doing what we needed them to do, no matter how many times we called them.  So I was done.

I placed an order with Vodafone to get a mobile broadband device.  Those, you just plug into an electrical outlet and nobody needs to come out to our house to do a damned thing.  I received emails that the order was successful, saw that Vodafone put an authorization to take money out of my bank account....and then I got an email that my order was cancelled because my order "didn't meet the online ordering criteria" while never explaining exactly WHAT the problem was.

I did an online chat with a Vodafone rep.  He said he could see that the order had been cancelled but he couldn't tell me what the problem had been - gave me a list of things it MIGHT be but said since that part is automated, they had no clue what the actual issue was that caused the rejection.

It's a wonder that I still had hair left on my head at this point.

Eli stopped by a company called Three on the way home from work, as they also have mobile broadband devices.  No one really came over to help him, so he was attempting to place an order himself.  A staff member finally came over to tell him they were closing soon (it was nearing 7 p.m. - and the store website said they were open until 9 p.m.)  So he went over to the apartment (which had internet) to finish the Three order...and it went under review so we didn't know if it would be approved or not.

Thankfully, it went through and he was able to stop again at the store to pick up the device.  We got it connected, and it was glorious....until about 3:45 a.m. the next morning, when it stopped working.  I did some of the troubleshooting things and finally, I did a hard reset and that seemed to have fixed it.  We had kept the Sky TV package, so we've had internet and TV service for a couple weeks.

In the midst of all that, we had a cleaning company scheduled to go to the apartment on July 28 at 10 a.m. to do an end-of tenancy deep-clean.  I was at the house, planning to head over to the apartment around 9 a.m. to wait for them to arrive.  At 8:30, I got a text that they were there - even though every confirmation email or text I'd gotten said we were scheduled for 10 a.m.  I texted that I wasn't at the apartment and someone needed to call me.  I didn't hear anything for a few minutes, so I threw on some clothes.  I'd just locked the door when my phone rang.  The office manager apologized up and down, stating a new employee had apparently messed something up - my information all said 10 a.m. but the cleaners were told 8 a.m.  They weren't able to return at 10 a.m. on July 28, but they could come on July 29 at 10 a.m.  I actually spent the night at the apartment on the evening of July 28 because with the way everything was going, I half expected them to show up at 8 a.m. again.  Happily, they arrived at 10:05 a.m. and were gone around noon.

Also in the midst of all that, I had tried to access my US bank account (we still have one, in case we have to pay something on the US side) and got a verification notice that they wanted to send a code....to my US cell number that I don't have anymore. I sent an email asking what I needed to do, and of course, I needed to call them. 

So after the cable/internet debacle where I was already stressed, my phone call kept refusing to go through. Or it went through, to the point I had someone answer the phone, and then I got the recorded message stating my call couldn't be completed. And I was like IT WAS JUST FUCKING COMPLETED ARE YOU KIDDING ME WITH THIS?! Eventually, I was able to get through to talk to customer service – nice gal named Jenny.

At this time, we still didn't have internet and I had been using my cell phone's hotspot to be able to connect to the internet. It had been working fine all day – except when I was dealing with the bank, and they were sending verification emails that I couldn't see because my damned hotspot was throttling or something stupid. Jenny took all the phone numbers off my account, and she suggested I download an authenticator app so I could sign into my bank account more easily. We'd already been on the phone for 20 minutes by this time, so I told her that I'd try downloading the app and see what happened. Of course, after I hung up with her, my hotspot got over itself and started actually pulling up sites again. I downloaded the authenticator app, and when I went to sign back into my bank account, it gave me a QR code to scan. That triggered the authenticator app to spit up a code, which I entered into the bank website, and I was able to get in.

I know I'm forgetting some details, but that was the gist of what happened during the span of a couple weeks.

For the most part, I'm now dealing with nearly constant construction noise.  Remember that nice field we had right out the front door?  Yeah, a couple weeks after we got here, they basically ripped all of it up, including tearing down some trees (I may or may not've muttered "I hope it falls on you bastards" while I was watching that carnage).  I knew it would happen eventually but it would've been nice to have had more than two weeks of seeing wildflowers and bunnies and birds.  They've since put up a corrugated steel fence so it looks like we're living inside a dumpster.

I think once we've been here for a while, I'll enjoy being here.  It's just been rough getting to that mindset with all the fuckery that's happened.