Movin' On Up

About three weeks ago, we toured a couple houses and an apartment at a development that's two tram stops from here.  We didn't care for the apartment at all, but we liked the two houses.  One had two bedrooms, and the view out the front was of construction.  One had three bedrooms, and the view out the front was of a green, grassy field.

Can you guess which house was our favorite?

We put applications in for both houses, listing the three-bedroom home as our first choice.  Sent along all the requisite information - bank statement, pet applications (with photos), employment verification for Eli, landlord statement from our current place.  Most management companies here want your rent to only be about 30-40% of your income.  Since Eli's the only wage earner at the moment, our buying power isn't great.  However, we told the letting agent that if that were a concern, we'd be glad to pay an entire year upfront.  With the sale of the house and our two vehicles, plus the savings we had socked away prior to those sales, we were fortunate enough to be able to do this and not have it severely impact our finances.

I didn't hear anything so after a few days, I emailed the letting agent to inquire about the status.  He said our application was being rejected because our income didn't meet the requirements.

I had a few moments of disappointment before my emotional compass swung to bewilderment and anger.  What the fuck??  How in the world could this place turn down having an entire year's rent in their account in one fell swoop?  That made absolutely no sense to me.

So I responded to the letting agent and asked why our savings wasn't being taken into account and that, since we said we'd pay an entire year at once, there was no financial risk to the management company.

Sent off that email on a Friday afternoon and stewed for the weekend.

Come Monday, I got an email from the letting agent stating that he had taken our case to the management company and they relented.

As of today...WE HAVE A HOUSE!!

We met Joe, our letting agent, at the house this morning to pick up keys and take a quick walk-through.

The first thing that greeted us once we were inside the house was a blast of heat.  I don't know if a lizard were the previous tenant or what, but the temp was set to 26 degrees Celsius - which is nearly 79 degrees Fahrenheit.  When Joe was showing us the thermostat, he turned it down - or maybe even off, I'm not sure.  We definitely don't need heat right now!

He seemed amused because I kept remarking about how BIG this place was compared to our current apartment.  I was like, "No, dude, you don't get it.  This living room is almost larger than our kitchen, living room, and dining area combined!"

He also seemed to get a chuckle from my remarking that I was grateful the bathroom light switches weren't behind the door, like they are in our current apartment.  It's a minor irritation, to be sure, but an irritation nonetheless.

Joe departed, and we were left to our own devices.  We wandered upstairs - we'll have an upstairs, y'all!! - and checked out the bedrooms and bathrooms, trying to decide where to put some of our things.

I'm planning to get some photos to post here.  Eli needed to go to work, so we didn't linger too long.  I could've stayed there by myself, but I didn't feel entirely comfortable doing that - which was good because we had a devil of a time trying to figure out how to lock the front door and if I'd been there by myself trying to fight with it, I might've panicked a little.

I've contacted a moving company, and we're hoping to move on July 11.  I'd love to do it sooner, but we're doing the packing ourselves to save some money and I don't want to feel rushed.  Our lease with the current apartment is good through July so we have some wiggle room in closing up shop here and getting moved over.

I am relieved that we'll have more space.  I don't need a McMansion, but it'll lessen my stress to be able to stretch out a bit and not feel like we're on top of each other all the time.  As an introvert, I need to feel like I have a protected space to hide in from time to time.  We're hoping that this new environment will help Patrick too, since there will be stairs to run up and down, more rooms to explore/hide in, and many more windows with better views (the windows all have a little ledge on the bottom sill so I think the cats are going to LOVE sitting up there and looking out).

As we were walking back to the tram after leaving the house, I told Eli that I was grateful for our current apartment.  When we had so much chaos and uncertainty before the move, having this place gave us a secure landing spot.

I said, "It hasn't been a bad apartment."

He said, "But it wasn't home."

On Your Birthday, I Visit You in My Heart

It's Lissa's birthday today.  She would've been 57 years old.

I wanted to do something to mark the day, didn't want it to pass as though it were just another nondescript date on the calendar, but nothing I thought of felt right.

I considered going to the old cemetery in Tully Park, spending some meditative time among the dead.  Some may consider that morbid, but cemeteries are very peaceful places.  However, I knew there would probably be people flowing in and out of that area, and I have a hard time crying in public.  Deep down, I know there's nothing wrong with doing so.  But as a kid, I cried a lot and was teased for it, so I have a block about being vulnerable around others.

Instead, I walked up to the grocery store in one of our sister buildings and bought a small red velvet cake.  I sang "Happy Birthday" to her, starting to cry in the middle of the song, finishing with "I really miss you."

With each bite I took, I said aloud something I loved about her:  Her laugh, her kindness, her willingness to drive us everywhere (since I wasn't comfortable driving in big cities), her devotion to caring for her mother and her nephew when they were experiencing life-altering challenges, going on adventures with me, being my best friend.

I'm planning to spend the rest of the afternoon listening to Corey Hart (one of her favorites) and reading her creative blog (LaLa Creates).

On Facebook, I shared my post from last year where I said I hoped that her birthday in 2025 would be less sad and painful.  It is not.  The pain has gone from sharp to gnawing but it still eats at my soul.  This is her first birthday to hit when I've been in Ireland, and she was an Irish lass.  I said on Facebook "I hope I've pulled some of her essence with me so she can soar over the green hills and dance on the sea."

I miss you, dearest friend.

She gifted me with this beautiful wooden trinket box for the holidays one year, inside which was this slip of paper.  It reads " Into this box, I have placed my happy memories of times we've shared, struggles over which we've triumphed, our tears of joy, our girlish laughter.  each time you open it, may you feel the blessings of our friendship, may your heart smile, may you know the magnitude of happiness your love has brought to my life."

Park and a Playdate

On Sunday, Eli and I went to Tully Park, which is located in our neighborhood.  He had gone there multiple times, but this was my first visit.

The park was built around an ancient church and burial ground.  The original church structure dates back to between the 6th and 9th century, and the chancel was added around the 12th century.  The church was in use until 1615, when it was damaged by storms, fell into disrepair, and was abandoned.

It boggles my mind to traipse around structures that were in place centuries before the United States was a twinkle in its Founders' eyes - well before even the Founders were twinkles in their parents' eyes.

Before I knew we'd be moving to Ireland one day, I would amuse myself by going onto Zoopla (the UK version of Zillow) and looking at houses there for kicks.  It never failed to amaze me when I'd be looking at photos of a house and there, in the back pasture, would be the ruins of a castle tower or something.  I couldn't even wrap my mind around the prospect of having part of a castle in my backyard - it just didn't compute.

Here in Ireland, you can barely turn around without encountering some kind of historical landmark, which is pretty cool.

(Little fern growing out of the church wall)

Today (Friday), I had an adult playdate with a new friend named Meg.  At the women's club meeting I attended back in March, I struck up a conversation with a gal.  I asked where she was from and when she'd arrived - she said she was from Minnesota and her family had arrived in August.  I was like, "Does your husband work at Element?" and she was like "Yes!"  When Eli got home that evening, I asked if he knew her husband - Eli said he wasn't in the same unit but that they did work together at times.

I was able to friend her on Facebook recently and I sent her a message, asking if she would like to get together to chat.  To my delight, Meg accepted the invite so we got together this morning.

She suggested a place called Helios Coffee, which is in Dundrum near the library.  It's basically a food truck, set back from the street in an alley between a bank and a beauty salon.  There's also a sauna component to this company, which is an interesting but odd pairing.

This is the sign that was out near the sidewalk - if you can't quite read it, it says "Sunny Init" which is a very informal way of saying "It's sunny, isn't it?"  For the last few days, the weather here has been warm and sunny, and I don't think the Irish folks know exactly what to do with themselves about it.  It doesn't usually do this, apparently.

I was early (I'm perpetually early) so I went up to get my drink and snag us one of the small wooden tables that were lined up on either side of the alley.  I paid for my hot chocolate with a crisp €5 bill.  The cashier held it up and remarked that it was unbelievably unmarred and new-looking.  I joked with her and said, "You're probably thinking 'this is counterfeit - call the authorities.'"  She chuckled and said, "Yeah, we need to get one of those pens [where the ink changes color when used on a dud bill]."

I collected my drink and sat down at a table in the shade.  It was over 50 degrees when I left the house, so I figured I didn't need my hoodie.  But sitting in the shade with a breeze blowing, I felt a bit chilled.

The truck had music playing, and I was enjoying many of the selections:  "Benny and the Jets," "Lovely Day," "Drops of Jupiter," "Stuck in the Middle with You," and "Brandy (You're a Fine Girl)" were just a few of the songs I heard while waiting.

A couple of people had dogs with them and from behind me, I heard a man say "Be careful, she wants to steal your croissant."  😃

I'm terrible at recognizing someone after only meeting them once, so I let Meg know I'd be wearing a teal-colored shirt with "Duluth" written in white on the front.  She responded and said she'd planned to wear a teal-colored sweatshirt with MN and a crossed-paddle design on the front.  Serendipity.

She arrived, got her drink, and we fell into chatting as though we'd known each other for more than a passing couple of hours.  I felt so comfortable talking with her, telling her how I met Eli, how I lived in Texas for nearly a decade, that I was an introvert.  She shared how she'd met her husband, her adventures in driving in Ireland, and that she was also an introvert.

We talked for two hours before she had to leave to pick up one of her kiddoes from school.  As we said goodbye, she asked if I wanted to share a hug which I did without hesitation.

As I have written before, I've felt very unmoored here, very isolated and disconnected.  Spending time with someone from Minnesota who's also new to Ireland was exactly what I needed, and I owe Meg much gratitude for helping me regain a sense of peace.

 

Tuesday in the Park

On Tuesday, Eli and I visited Bushy Park, which is about 9 miles from us, as the crow flies.  I don't know how fast a crow can fly, but it probably would've been faster to go by crow.

We took the tram to Dundrum and walked a short distance to the bus stop.  We arrived at about 1:20 p.m. and the bus was scheduled to be at this stop at 1:30 p.m.  As with Bus 7 at the Brides Glen stop, Bus 74 was lurking just around the corner with its doors shut.  We could see it almost smirking at us as we stood waiting.

But eventually it lurched around the corner, and we were off.  The ride was pretty bumpy.  Eli said if we ever needed a massage, we could just take a trip on Bus 74.

Both coming and going, our bus driver had to honk at a driver who thought it was a great idea to dart in front of a double-decker vehicle.  If you wondered if people were just as stupid on the roadways here as in the US, yes, I can tell you that they are just as stupid.

There is a small LED board on the buses that show the upcoming stop, and there is a verbal announcement of the upcoming stop as well  One of the quirky things here is that sometimes, the name of the stop listed on the official transit website doesn't match the stop listed on that LED board.  We needed to disembark at Dodder Park Road (stop 1301).  At one point, the LED board said Dodder Park Road, so I pushed the "stop" button and we went to stand by the door.  However, when the doors opened, the bus stop sign did not say Dodder Park Road (stop 1301) so we didn't get off the bus.  Eli got on his phone to look at the map - and it turns out, we'd needed to get off at that stop, even though the information didn't match.  So we got off at the next stop and just had to walk a little farther to get to the park.

I had wanted to visit a park near a river, and the River Dodder cuts through the park.  We crossed the river by stepping across these raised concrete pillars.  I wanted to get a photo while standing in the middle of the stream but was afraid I'd lose my equilibrium and either fall in or drop my phone.  So a photo after crossing had to suffice.

The path was very wooded and quiet, and there were a couple small waterfalls.

Sound up for the following two items:

I had bought some bird-safe shelled peanuts so I could feed the crows while waiting on tram platforms, and I brought it with to the park.  Here were a couple friends I made when we first got to the small pond/lake in the park.

They were very excited about these treats and got closer to me.  One even flew up and fluttered near Eli - I'm sure if I put my arm out, this bird would've landed on it.

We continued our walk along the shore of the lake, and these new friends bobbed along after us.  I stopped near a group of ducks and started scattering nuts both on the path and in the water.

It was amusing to watch the mallards snatching at the peanuts in the water.  If they didn't grab the treat before it sank, they were out of luck.  The pond/lake was only a couple feet deep but mallards are apparently too buoyant to make it to the bottom.  There were some smaller ducks that were able to dive so a couple of them were having a field day, scooping up everything that fell to the sand.

Eventually, I ran out of treats, and we kept walking.  We encountered these freaking huge leaves, a small water feature that fed the lake, and a heron.  There were also some smallish fish in the water but I didn't get a photo of them.

I took this photo of the waterfall while near the side of it.  The blur of the rushing water makes it look a bit abstract.  I think it looks cool.  And of course, I went searching for ferns and found them.

By this time, I was hungry and my feet were tired (and we both needed a restroom) so it was back to wait for Bus 74.  A lady sitting next to us on the bus was on her phone.  She was speaking in a language other than English (French?  Russian?).  It was hard to tell because she was talking very fast and pretty much non-stop.  After she got off the bus, Eli said, "I was fully expecting to hear her say 'When you get this message, call me' because there was no way someone else was on the other end of the line since she never took a breath."

We got off the bus in Dundrum, about a block from the library.  I had a book to return, and two books to pick up, so we walked over there (and availed ourselves of their bathroom) before walking to Nando's near Dundrum Town Centre.

I again had the butterfly chicken with medium peri-peri spice, fries, and garlic bread.  Eli wasn't extremely hungry so he had a couple of appetizers - spiced olives, halloumi, and hummus.  I didn't want to have caffeine that late in the day (it was around 4 p.m.) so I had orange Fanta, and it was really good.

Eli has recently begun taking a class to learn how to speak Irish.  It's in Dublin near his workplace at 6:30 p.m. on Tuesdays.  He had some time to kill before going to the language school so he decided to wander around the mall while I headed for home.

There are hidden gems like this all over Ireland.  I'm looking forward to discovering more of them.

Change is Hard

Just as I crested the top of the stairs on Thursday, I saw the tram pulling away from our stop.  The next tram wasn't due for 17 minutes.

In the grand scheme of Important Things, this was not one of them.  There would be another tram coming. The weather was beautiful so it wouldn't be unpleasant to wait. It wasn't like I were going anywhere emergent or like I were on a tight schedule. There wasn't any reason for this to cause me to cry.

And yet, it did.  I stood at the railing of the platform, looking out toward the distant mountains and struggling to keep the tears from escaping my eyes and rolling down my cheeks.

After finishing my errands and on the way home, I started thinking about my reaction. It seemed an exaggerated response to such a minor irritation, and I don't like it when things don't make sense.

It struck me that my life here feels out of synch. Like the tram pulling away just moments before my arrival, I am just slightly out of step with my environment. It's like trying to dance the waltz to a song with a 7/8 time signature.  Or trying to listen to the radio station that's just slightly out of tune.

I feel like we live in a hotel room.  With the exception of two bookcases and a rocking chair, none of the furniture is ours, none of it is something we specifically chose. I'm fearful of putting any art on the walls, afraid that even a removable fastening might damage the paint. Moving into a furnished place has been both a blessing and a curse - nice that we didn't have to bring much with us and pay more shipping costs, unfortunate in that we got what we got.  I'm a creature that's sensitive to my environment and it just feels so sterile, so uncomfortable, not cozy at all.

I don't feel like I fit in anywhere. I feel like a tourist, an "other," someone who doesn't really belong here. I don't have any kind of community and, even for an introvert, that can feel very lonely and scary.

Nothing feels familiar, even the places I've visited multiple times.  Back in Minnesota, my cubicle at work felt familiar. The library felt familiar. The grocery store felt familiar. The streets I drove on every day felt familiar. Seeing our resident squirrels and bunnies and deer felt familiar.

I guess I thought I'd have an easier time acclimating, which is ridiculous considering that I've met me before. Would it have been easier if we'd moved to another US state rather than a completely new country?  Maybe.  Maybe not.  I think I've mentioned before that I didn't seem to have this much trouble when I moved from Minnesota to Texas but the circumstances were different and I was different.  That was 30 years ago.

My inner critic chides me for complaining and kvetching.  You ASKED for this gift, she says. You told the Universe this is what you wanted, and look at you - not even being able to appreciate this opportunity because you're too focused on what's lacking.  What are you doing to fix the situation?

I'd be remiss if I didn't mention that I haven't done a very good job of integrating here either.  I haven't thrown myself head-first into finding ways to assimilate - attending cultural events, trying to get together with like-minded people, doing what I CAN do to make our apartment more homey.  So, much of the responsibility for my current predicament is resting at my own feet.

I've been getting lots of signs lately to "let go."  You can't grasp or accept the here-and-now if you're still holding onto the past. You're wasting energy dragging what-was into what-is. Back in 2005, I had a tarot reading, and the only thing I remember the guy saying was that I spend a lot of energy wishing things were different instead accepting the way things actually were.

When you have separation anxiety, letting go is difficult.  The release of something, the absence or distance, is the reason for the anxiety, after all.  But is holding onto my previous life keeping me from flourishing in my present one?

Joseph Campbell has a great quote where he said "We must be willing to let go of the life we planned so as to have the life that is waiting for us.”

In a couple of weeks, we'll have been here for nine months.  It's interesting to me that I've been seeing a lot of "rebirth" signs along my path recently, just as my emotions are coming to a head.  Perhaps all of this time leading up to next month has been a gestation period for me, and I'm getting ready to burst into a new life.  Richard Bach wrote "What the caterpillar calls the end of the world, the master calls a butterfly."

Change is hard.  Growth is hard.  Being born is hard.  But the alternative - stagnation, paralysis, death - doesn't sound all that appealing to me.

So.  It's onward and upward.  I've got a lot of work to do.

(The following is a vision board I created many, many years ago.  I actually think I brought it along when we moved here.  For someone so resistant to change, it's funny how this board was all about change.  And there's that butterfly again.)

Beyond the Sea

Eli had scheduled vacation for this past Thursday and Friday.  I asked him if we could visit the sea on one of those days, and he was in very enthusiastic agreement.

We planned our trip for Thursday, thinking it might be less crowded.  We haven't been here long enough to see if people take many three-day weekends but if they do, we figured we'd be safer going out on a day other than Friday.

Miraculously, Bus 7 was on time and soon we were on our way toward Killiney Beach.  We passed a playground along the route, and I noticed they had a merry-go-round there.  It brought me back to the days of riding on a contraption like that as a kid, holding tightly to the bar while my impish cousin tried to spin it so fast that the riders would be dislodged and flung off.  This playground also had a merry-go-round for one - it looked like one of those papasan chairs that seemed to be all the rage back in the 70s.

After a 15-20 minute ride, we got out in Dun Laoghaire and walked a few blocks to get to the DART (Dublin Area Rapid Transit) platform.  Unlike the sleek, silver, needle-nosed LUAS trams, the DART train is boxy and square-faced.  It was my first time on the DART, and I enjoyed it.  The seats were more comfortable - seemed larger and the seat backs were taller - and the ride was quiet.

The third stop let us out at Killiney Beach, right next to the water.  I wanted to visit a restroom before we went down to the beach, and Google Maps told me there was a public restroom close-by.  At the entrance to the car park, there was a sign with a bathroom symbol that pointed to the right so off we started down the sidewalk.

After walking for quite some time, we started to get into a residential area, and I began to think we weren't in the correct spot.  Eli pulled up Google Maps on his phone, and we figured out the bathrooms....were located in the car park.

Back we went toward the car park.  But it wasn't a total waste.  I got some extra steps in and I noticed one of the mileage signs along the DART track said 9 3/4 (for Harry Potter fans, you'll remember that Platform 9 3/4 was how you got to the Hogwarts Express train).

The restroom itself posed another conundrum.  There was no wording on the doors - just these medieval-looking woodcut plaques (these are not my photos - I grabbed them off the internet):

We assumed the image with the longer hair pointed to the women's restroom, so in I went.  And it was pretty gross so I stayed only as long as necessary.

We crossed the street and walked down some stairs, finally on the beach.  Our stretch of beach was pretty rocky - lots of small stones and not many patches of sand.  It made walking challenging since the terrain was rough and shifting.

I stood and took a deep breath.  The scent was fresh rather than being briny or fishy.  A handful of people were in the water, but more were simply sitting on the beach, enjoying the bright blue sky and strong sun.  One woman was slinging a ball into the water, much to the delight of her spaniel dog.  A small child who was walking slightly ahead of us was amusing himself by grabbing a handful of small stones and half-spinning like a discus thrower before opening his hand to release them toward the sea.  I walked carefully around the boy, on the off-chance his hand didn't open at the correct time and we had to dodge any incoming rocks.  I had fully expected it to be quite windy by the water, but there wasn't much wind at all.

We drew closer to the water and began our stroll, waves rushing in and out, making that wonderful shoosh sound as the water dragged over rocks and sand.  (Sound on to hear the sea.)

I was kissed by the sea.  Or at least, my right foot was.  An aggressive wave snuck up on me, and with the slope, the wet rocks, and the wet sand beneath, I wasn't able to scramble back before the water sluiced over my shoe.

We stopped in an area that didn't have many people around, put our light jackets on the rocky ground, and planted ourselves.

I had fully expected that being by the water would make me cry, but it didn't.  I don't know if I weren't allowing myself to tap into my emotions, fearing a floodgate would open and I'd be sobbing on the beach.  Or if I just didn't feel connected.  Being near Lake Superior in Minnesota never failed to bring tears to my eyes and uncap wells of deep-seated feelings.  Maybe it's because Minnesota was home to me (still is, in some respects), and this place just hasn't sunk into my bones yet.  It was still pleasant being by the water, but it didn't have the emotional pull that I had expected.

As the waves began encroaching on our location, Eli and I got up and walked farther down the beach.  We encountered beached kelp, beautiful rocks, and I found a shell.  We also saw a crab leg and a pile of white feathers, signifying a bad end for a sea bird.  If I had my ruthers, I would've weighed down my backpack with all of the pretty stones I found but, as Eli said, it's better to just take memories/photos than objects.  I did, however, steal a small heart-shaped rock.  I felt like it was a sign telling me Lissa was near.

By this time, it was nearing lunchtime and we were hungry, so it was back aboard the DART to head for Dun Laoghaire.  Not knowing what restaurants were in the area, we started walking along the main drag.  We had passed a Nando's not long after getting off the train but, as we had been to Nando's once before, I thought we should perhaps try a new place.

Eventually, after many blocks, we decided to return to Nando's as nothing else looked promising.  At Nando's, you can either go up to the counter to place your order OR scan a QR code with your phone and do it online.  Eli entered our order on his phone, and we settled in to wait.  We had both requested pop - they have a soft drink station where you get your own drink, but you have to wait for a server to bring you a glass.

After a good 10 or 15 minutes, I finally got up and approached a server.  She apologized that no one had brought glasses to us yet and went to retrieve one for each of us.  And then we waited.  And waited.  And waited some more.  At one point, a server came over to let us know they were out of broccoli so Eli had to select a different side.

After what seemed like a weirdly elongated period of time, our food arrived.  I had ordered the butterfly chicken with medium-heat peri-peri spice, as well as peri-seasoned fries and garlic bread.  I was grateful that I'd only went with the medium heat because as it was, my lips were tingling from the spice.

Lunch complete, we walked up the street to the bus stop.  There was an ice cream shop just a few doors down from the stop, and I was tempted to get a cone.  They had soft-serve that looked just like Dairy Queen.  But our bus was only 10 minutes away, and you're not supposed to have food/drink on public transit (but people do) so I passed, not wanting to have to bolt down an ice cream cone.

The birds in the urban areas are fairly fearless.  They equate humans with food and, because humans are messy pigs, their reasoning is sound.  There were a couple pigeons strutting near us, looking for scraps.  They had just discovered a small piece of bread but before they could enjoy it, this large fellow swooped down and took it away, swallowing it in one gulp.

This church - St. Michael's - was right across the street from the bus stop.  I liked the look of the tower, so I snapped a photo.

Our bus was right on time again.  Between our recent jaunt to Stillorgan and this trip, I had the best bus-luck since I've been here.  [Sidenote: That luck ran out yesterday when we were trying to get to the grocery store in Ballybrack and our bus was delayed to the point of never showing up at all.]  The lower level of the bus was packed so we moved up the stairs to the second deck.  I had never been up on the second level, and it was harrowing to navigate the narrow stairwell and walk to a seat while the bus was in motion, especially when it made a turn while I was just getting to the top of the steps.

It was an interesting perspective to be so high above street level, eyesight even with the signage on stores and such.

After an unremarkable and quiet ride, we were home.  I'm sure we'll visit the sea again in the near future.

And I'm getting ice cream next time.

Cornerstone

As our current apartment lease expires in August, we've started looking into different places to live.  This apartment is fine, for the most part, but it's just not where we want to be.  There aren't many shops or restaurants around us, and it would be nice to live in an area with more options.

I pop into the Ireland real estate site every now and again to see what's out there.  I checked out an apartment complex called The Cornerstone, which is in Stillorgan.  Stillorgan is about 4 miles from us to the north.

We needed to take bus E1 to our destination, and the bus stop for this route is over by our veterinary clinic.  As the cats were nearly out of dry food, this was one of those "two birds with one stone" types of situations.  Eli went to pick up the food while I sat at the bus stop.  My ankle gives me trouble every now and again, so I thought I would save some steps where I could.

Just as Eli exited the vet clinic, our bus was headed toward us so that was great timing.  (The bus must not've known I was going to be there because otherwise, with my bus-luck, it would've either been late or not arrived at all.)

After a 15-20 minute ride, we got off the bus and had a short walk to the apartment complex.  We wanted to get the lay of the land around the building - see if there were anything that might pique the cats' interest (trees, people walking with pets, cars).  It's important to us that they have some kind of stimulation because they don't have much of that here.  Depending upon the apartment orientation, there was either some nature or a busy street.

Stillorgan Shopping Centre is right across the street from the apartment building, so we wandered over to see what stores were available.  There was a young couple with a pretty long-haired dachshund, so I started cooing at the dog and the couple stopped.

The dog (we failed to get his name) wasn't having it.  He went into protect mode, barking and lunging at us.  The woman squatted down to talk to the dog, and we chatted with the man.  I told him that I'd had a dachshund while growing up, and I said that Heidi was forever staring up at trees, hunting chipmunks.  Once, she was chasing a chipmunk, and it reversed course, plowing into her.  Neither animal seemed to know what to do and froze, before the chipper started running again toward the tree with Heidi in pursuit.

After these few minutes, the dog suddenly decided that we weren't a threat.  He came over and sniffed at our shoes, allowing pettings and licking our hands.

We walked around the mall (there are TWO bookstores, y'all, and the Stillorgan Library is temporarily housed on the second level).  At the mall and up and down the street, there were multiple restaurant options that would cater to Eli's vegetarian diet - and an Eddie Rockets (50's style diner) that would cater to mine.  Just down the hill was a vet clinic (interestingly, you'd take a street called The Hill to get there), about a 5-minute walk from the apartment.  The bus stops are very close so transport would be a breeze.

There are five separate buildings/wings to the complex and they're each named after an author/actor/artist with links to the area:  Maeve Binchy, Dermot Morgan, William Orpen, Eavan Boland, and Samuel Beckett.

I'm keeping my fingers crossed that we might be able to move there in a few months' time. The area seemed to check a lot of boxes for us.  We reached out to the management company but since we're not moving until August, they asked us to reach out to them again in June/July.

We walked to a bus stop across the street from the apartment so we could head towards Dundrum.  Each of us had a book holding at the Dundrum Library, and we were going to catch the tram back home.  We only had to wait a couple minutes before the L25 bus rumbled up.  Again, the bus must've been unaware of my presence because it was a painless transaction.

After a short trip, we collected our books from the library and made the quick walk to the Luas platform.

I don't want to get my hopes up.  There might not be an available apartment for us when it's time to move or they might reject our application.  So I'll keep looking at other options but Cornerstone is definitely at the top of the list.