Against the Wind

Our area is currently under a yellow warning for wind.  There's been a steady blast of around 20 miles per hour with gusts into the 50-60 mph range.  It's been lashing rain hard against the windows and howling.

My emotions over the past couple of weeks have been much like the wind.  Swirling, lashing, angry.  Heinous things are happening in my beloved home state of Minnesota, things past the comprehension of anyone with a conscience or a soul.

When Renee Good was murdered, I wrote the following on Facebook: I never knew I could have this level of rage and hatred inside me, but here we are.  If a deity came along and said to me "I will wipe out every single one of these vermin in exchange for your life," I would volunteer as tribute so fast, it'd make that deity's head spin.  My only request is that I would be allowed to see these vermin become human torches, screaming in horrible agony before turning into a pile of ashes.

I didn't cry.  There was nothing but a hard wall of rage and there was no room for sadness.

People were being terrorized in their own homes.  Tear gas and flash bangs were being thrown at peaceful resisters.  A young boy wearing a bunny hat was used as bait to lure his guardians outside and then sent to a detention center.

And still there were no tears.

Then on January 24, nurse Alex Pretti was executed.  He was tear gassed, beaten, and executed.  Some of his last words were "Are you okay?" directed at the woman he was trying to help after ICE accosted her.

I read the breaking news, and the tears came.  But they were rageful tears without a drop of sadness in them.  My hands started to shake with wrath and fury.  I wanted to punch something.  I spent the day unsettled and so angry, had a hard time falling asleep because my brain wouldn't stop.

By Sunday morning, a lot of the rage had drained away, and I cried tears of sadness.  The anger was still there, banked embers glowing hot, flaring up while I read the obscene lies spewing from the feds.  In the novel 1984, George Orwell wrote “The Party told you to reject the evidence of your eyes and ears. It was their final, most essential command.”

About the only thing that has kept me from going on some sort of rampage has been seeing the stories coming out of Minnesota about the brave and resilient people standing up to this fascist regime.  Their safety is not assured.  As we've seen, people are being summarily murdered by monsters who feel untouchable, who feel they'll never face any consequences for their hideous behavior.

Neighbors are helping neighbors who are too frightened to leave their homes. People are mobilizing with whistles to warn about ICE in the vicinity. Minnesotans are standing toe-to-toe with soulless creatures who would like nothing more than to cause destruction and pain. Folks are donating supplies, keeping watch over memorials, attending vigils, coming together against a common foe.

They are afraid.  They are exhausted.  They are suffering.  But they are holding the line, refusing to let evil win, resolved to drive every last aggressor from the state.

The following is from Lord of the Rings, and I have posted it MANY times over the past year.

A new day WILL come and, as Sam said, the sun will shine out the clearer.

I hope when that day comes and Minneapolis/Minnesota has begun to heal, people will hold onto the friendships and neighborships that were forged in this crucible of horror.  I hope they still check in on neighbors, offer to hold space for those who are struggling, continue to patronize the businesses that provided shelter and sustenance for the community, remember how strong and brave and passionate they were in the face of danger.

There is a Japanese art called kintsugi where broken pottery is repaired by bonding the pieces back together again with a lacquer mixed with gold.  It symbolizes healing and finding beauty in brokenness, suggesting that repaired objects are more beautiful and resilient than the original.

I am so damned proud of my home state and its unyielding grit and determination.  May the brokenness experienced by so many be transformed into stunning beauty.

The Good Doctor

"People pay the doctor for his trouble; for his kindness they still remain in his debt."

― Seneca (4 B.C. - 65 A.D.)

I haven't seen a doctor since we moved to Ireland.  Going to a clinic makes me anxious, which ratchets up my blood pressure.  My BP at home is usually pretty good but as soon as I step foot into a medical facility, it shoots up despite my efforts to be calm.  It's called "white-coat syndrome" and it's gotten worse as I've gotten older.

I have a couple of chronic conditions that require medication and to this point, I'd been able to access an online doctor to get refills of my prescriptions.  However, once it had been more than a year since I'd seen a doctor, the online service refused to do any more refills.

A new clinic opened up recently a couple of miles from our house, so I sent them an email, asking if their physicians were sensitive to white-coat syndrome.  I received an answer very quickly from one of the doctors themselves, Dr. Feeney.

He said he and his fellow physician were aware of and sensitive to patients who experienced anxiety while at a visit; he said many of their patients were afflicted with this issue.

A few days later, I called to make an appointment.  Even that seemingly minor and safe task was something I needed to psych myself up for - making an appointment meant I'd actually have to go.

The gentleman who answered my call was warm, kind, and funny (and married to the other physician at this practice, Dr. McConnell).  It really helped put my mind at ease.

On Saturday, Eli and I went out to do a dry run from the house to the clinic.  We took the tram to Carrickmines with the intent to take the L26 bus to a stop near the clinic.  The bus was supposed to have arrived within 10 minutes of our tram exit.  The electronic board said the bus was due in 22 minutes.  And then 21 minutes.  And then 20 minutes.  And then 22 minutes.  And then 32 minutes.

I said to Eli, "I'm done."

We got back on the tram and exited at the Ballyogan Wood stop, planning to walk to the clinic.  It was a decent enough day, and my rage about what's going on in Minnesota right now powered me through the walk.

For my appointment yesterday, I called up a taxi.  The weather wasn't great, and I wanted to make sure I got to the clinic in good shape and in good time.

Dr. Feeney was the epitome of kindness and concern.  I had sent some of my medical records from Minnesota, and he got more of my history while we talked.  He said he wasn't going to take my blood pressure since that was stressful for me; I had brought him a list of my recent BP readings, and he was pleased with the numbers.

He said he wanted to do some blood work.  I may've hissed at him and made the sign of the cross.  He was wearing a medical mask, but I'm pretty sure he smiled.

He directed me back to the waiting room and said he'd put in the orders and let Moira (the nurse) know I needed her services.   As I settled into a chair, he was pulled into another conversation with the other doctor.

I sat for about 10 minutes or so.  Dr. Feeney came out to consult with the receptionist on something, so he was in the vicinity when Moira came out of her room and asked "Are you waiting for me?"

When I said I was, she replied, "Why didn't you say something?  How long have you been waiting?"

Dr. Feeney heard our exchange, and he said "I am so sorry."  Even the receptionist piped up and said, "That's awful that you had to wait."

They were truly appalled, and while I really appreciated their concern, it amused the heck out of me.

As I told both Moira and the receptionist, in the US it was common to sit in the waiting room 20-30 minutes past your appointment time and then sit for another 10-15 minutes in the exam room once you were taken back.  Sitting for 10 minutes was nothing at all.

Happily, the blood draw went well. The veins in my arm tend to collapse pretty easily, but she was able to get what she needed.  And I didn't pass out, so that was a win all the way around.

One of my "goals" for the new year was to see a doctor and get some of my health-related issues addressed.  I was proud of myself for overcoming my fear and getting it done.

Home Away from Home

In the Before Times (pre-Covid), I started a tradition of taking a weekend sabbatical at a local hotel once a year.  It was always nice to get away from the responsibilities at home and have a reset.

Then Covid reared its ugly head, and my ritual fell by the wayside.

Recently, I felt like I needed to get away again, so I booked a two-night stay from Monday-Wednesday of Christmas week at the Clayton Hotel in Charlemont, which is about 35-40 minutes away from our house by tram.

Eli's office was shut down (he was still working but from home) so it was a perfect time for a sabbatical as he would be home with the cats and they wouldn't be alone all day.

Parts of the hotel had a different function in a previous life.  The following information is from Wikipedia:   Saint Ultan's Children's Hospital was a paediatric hospital in Dublin, Ireland. It was named after Ultan of Ardbraccan, patron saint of paediatricians.  The hospital was founded by Dr Kathleen Lynn and Madeleine ffrench-Mullen with the help of Sinn Féin activists in 1919 and was housed in an old Georgian house constructed around the year 1770.  The committee opened the hospital with a fund of just £70 and 2 sleeping cots. The building was in a state of disrepair and was reputed to have once been a shooting hall used by Lord Charlemont.  It was the first hospital for infants in Ireland and hospital physicians in the early years included Ella Webb and Dorothy Price. Earlier in her career, Lynn had experienced discrimination in applying for hospital positions due to her gender, and Saint Ultan's was the only hospital in Ireland entirely managed by women. It was the first hospital in Ireland to provide the BCG vaccination [used for tuberculosis] and from 1937 became the centre for BCG in Ireland. Dr Barbara Stokes, specialist in children with disabilities, also worked at the hospital.

I grabbed this image from the internet.  See those two windows in the upper left corner of the white building?  That was my room.

This is that part of the building as seen while standing in the lobby. It was almost like looking at a castle keep or something - just had that vibe to it.  The entrance door to this area (in the middle of the photo) had very little height to it.  I'm about 5'6" and the top of the door was only a few inches higher.  There were only four rooms to this section, on the second and third floors.  My room was all the way at the top to the right.

I checked in a little after 3 p.m. on Monday afternoon, and this was my home away from home.

The lights to the room confounded me at first.  None of them responded to flicking on a switch.  I finally figured out that I needed to put my hotel card key into a reader right next to the door (and leave it there).  It would've been nice if there had been some instructions indicating this peculiarity.

After off-loading my stuff, I ventured out again, walking a couple of blocks to a Tesco Express.  I wanted to get some snacks and easy foods for lunch/dinner, as I wasn't planning to go out for these meals.  The room had a mini fridge so it was nice to get some chilled foods along with the usual chips and chocolate.

One of the bathrooms at our house has a bathtub, but it's quite narrow (and I'm not a small person) so I hadn't been able to take a bath.  The stand-alone tub at the hotel was a bit wider, so I indulged in a nice, long soak on Monday evening.

I slept okay Monday night.  It was funny because I woke up around 1:30 a.m. and immediately tensed, expecting to hear Patrick start yelling.  After a few moments, I realized I wasn't at home.

During the week, breakfast service began at 7 a.m.  I was there at 7:02 a.m., wanting to arrive before things could be picked over by other guests.  Usually the breakfast selection at a hotel is pretty weak but Clayton's spread was an exception.

All of those silver domes in the first photo (at the right in the distance) housed the fixin's for an Irish breakfast:  scrambled eggs, bacon, sausage, black and white pudding, potatoes, beans, mushrooms, and tomato.  They also had yogurt, cold cuts, cheeses, fruit, cereals, juices, tea, cinnamon rolls, pain au chocolat, coffee, and assorted breads.

I loaded up a plate with good stuff (scrambled eggs, OJ, sausage, bacon, pain au chocolat, croissant, potatoes, pineapple) and thoroughly enjoyed plowing my way through it.  Had to go back for seconds of eggs, bacon, and potatoes.

Completely stuffed, I headed back to my room and just chilled.  Did a lot of reading, played around on the internet, figured out my focus word for 2026, watched some TV.  It was so nice not to have to worry about feeding the cats, cleaning the litter box, doing laundry, and any of the other mundane things that comes along with living in a house.  Having a different environment or surrounding seems to help bring me clarity because it throws me out of a usual routine.

I didn't sleep as well on Tuesday night.  I couldn't fall asleep until closer to midnight and then I woke up around 3:30 a.m.  The early wake-up time was just as well because people were slamming doors and my downstairs neighbors had their TV on a bit loud at 4 a.m.  I don't know what it is about people slamming doors in hotels.  If the door has a recoil you weren't aware of and it slips out of your hands the first time, I'll give you that one.  But to purposely allow the door to slam shut after that?  You should have your hotel privileges revoked.

I arrived for breakfast around 7 a.m., and we weren't allowed in right away as they were still getting things set up.  A line began to form behind me, and I was like dude, there's gonna be a riot if you don't let us gorge ourselves in the next few minutes.  The spread was just as wonderful, and I enjoyed it just as much.  I smuggled out a pain au chocolat to take home to Eli.

Check-out time wasn't until 11 a.m. but I actually left around 8:15.  As much as I liked being away, I wanted to be home again.  It was still fairly dark (sunrise this time of year doesn't happen until 8:30 or later), and my walk to the tram was pretty quiet.  It was Christmas Eve Day so there was very little traffic on the streets or people out and about.

There was an unhoused man huddled under a blanket at the foot of the stairs leading to the tram platform.  He was holding a sign asking for money.  I know that there are many times when people are only pretending to be homeless and don't have a need to be panhandling.  But I also know there are people who ARE in need.  I don't usually carry much cash with me, but I put a euro into his cup.  Even if he were just grifting, I figured I could part with such a small amount.

You know how you sometimes do the thing where a server brings you your food and says "Enjoy your meal" and like a dummy, you respond "You too!"  Yeah, I did that with this unhoused gentleman.  He said "Thank you" when I dropped the coin into his cup and instead of saying "You're welcome" like a normal person, I responded with "Thank you."

It was nice to be able to escape up the stairs to the tram platform at that point.

While I was waiting for my train, an inbound tram pulled up, and it was interesting to see that the cars were fairly empty.  At that time of day on a usual Wednesday, I'm sure they're packed with folks going to work.  I think my outbound tram actually had more people on it.

After an uneventful ride through the early morning gloom, I greeted Eli and the kitties.  It's nice to get away, but it's always good to come back home again.

Unanticipated Pizza

Each week, we place a delivery order for groceries from Tesco, one of the major grocery chains here.  Tesco has a delivery-saver program where for €15/month, we get unlimited deliveries - we could have one delivery a day if we wanted (which we don't but it's an available option).  Typically, each delivery costs anywhere from €6-10 depending upon the date/time so we're saving a lot of money and getting a very convenient service.

Our order was scheduled to arrive Saturday evening between 6-8 p.m.  I'm able to track our delivery status and when the driver gets closer, the tracking status provides a small map that shows exactly where the truck is at any given time.

He was slated to arrive around 7 p.m. last night.  I watched the truck icon get closer until it was about 5 minutes away, and we were the next scheduled delivery.  Then I watched the truck icon start moving in the opposite direction, back toward the store from which he'd picked up our groceries.  7 p.m. came and went and eventually, the map on the tracking screen disappeared.

Eli called customer service to inquire about our delivery.  The representative put him on hold twice while attempting to contact the store, and the rep was unable to get ahold of anyone.  He said he'd put in a complaint form and someone from the store would call us today.

I talked with a nice customer service rep this morning named Nathan. I explained that I was watching the tracking map and got very confused when the truck began going in the opposite direction.  Nathan said sometimes the drivers will teleport and it confuses everyone when it happens.  🤣  He set us up for delivery today between 4-6 p.m.

We received a phone call from the delivery driver a little before 4, and he said he was about 5 minutes away.  Eli greeted him at the door and pulled in the three crates of food.  I was making sure the cats were staying away from the door and not paying attention to the crates, but I thought it was odd we had three of them since we didn't have a large order this week.

We began unpacking, and it became clear why we had three crates.  One of them was full of frozen goods we didn't order - 9 frozen pizzas, 2 bags of chicken nuggets, and a huge bag of french fries.  Missing were the 2 frozen items I DID order.

I called the driver, hoping to catch him before he got too far away, but he shot out of this area and wasn't able to return.  I called customer service and explained the situation; the rep said he'd contact the store and get someone from there to call me.

While I was awaiting a return call, I shoved what I could into our freezer so it wouldn't continue to thaw sitting on our table.  Our freezer is tiny and couldn't hold everything, so I wound up putting five of the pizzas into the fridge, just to slow down the thaw.

A gal from the store called.  She thought my only issue was the two items I ordered and didn't receive, so I had to enlighten her to the fact that we had a multitude of pizzas and nowhere to put them all.

She said she would talk with her manager to see what he wanted to do and give me a call back.

And the end result is that we have four pizzas, two bags of chicken nuggets, and a huge bag of french fries to eat.

I felt terrible that we had to trash five of those pizzas, although it helps a bit that we were able to put both the pizza and the boxes into our organics recycling bin.  (All of the pizzas had meat on them, which Eli wouldn't eat; two of the pizzas were a brand I had tried before and didn't like.)

I also feel kinda bad for the person who ordered these items and didn't receive them.  It looked like they'd been planning to have a party, so I hope they managed to get this stuff delivered to them at some point.

To Market, To Market

We visited a couple of Christmas markets this weekend.

Eli had taken Friday off of work, and we decided to go to the market at Fumbally Stables which is near Dublin City Centre.  Per the website:  The building is an old 18th century stables that was originally used by John Busby, one of the local distillers in the Blackpitts area. Since then it has been adapted for multiple uses from grain store to meat factory, a bakery and finally a photography studio in the late 1980s. The Fumbally took it on in 2015 as somewhere for us to develop ideas and projects outside of the cafe confines, and since then it has grown into a much more all-encompassing space that is open to many diverse activities but keeps food and community at its core.

The day's weather forecast was not promising.  This time of year, the weather trends toward rainy and windy.  Heavy rain OR heavy wind is alright - combined, they are not two great tastes that taste great together.  As we were leaving, we experienced some light rain and a bit of wind which was fine.  Coming home, it was a different story, as you'll read about in a few minutes.

It was a weekday morning, so I thought the tram might be relatively empty - boy, was I wrong!  As I've mentioned before, I have claustrophobia and if I feel I don't have a clear exit available, I start to panic.  More and more people crammed themselves onto the tram, and my anxiety began to ratchet up.  At one point, I made the comment "Why are all you people on this tram on a Friday at 11:30 a.m.???"

We got off the tram at St. Stephen's Green, having to fight our way to the door past the people standing sardine-like in the open gap near the exits.  There's a shopping mall next to this stop, and many other riders were also getting off the tram at this platform.  We were walking in a direction taking us away from the mall, and I felt like a salmon fighting to get upstream through a packed flow of humans.

We walked a block or two and after about a 10-minute wait, bus F3 scooped us up and deposited us closer to the stables.

The market wasn't extremely busy so it was fairly easy to move around in the smallish vendor rooms.  We saw a lot of interesting items:  Soaps, stained glass, artwork, jewelry, African-inspired products (placemats, purses), baked goods, wine.  One vendor had beautiful woven wool blankets.  We chatted with her a bit, learning that the blankets were woven using a few different types of wool.  I really loved one done in blue shades.  Each blanket was €165.  I don't begrudge the price because I know a lot of time goes into handcrafting an item, but I couldn't justify spending that much on a blanket.  Another vendor was offering brass goods.  There was a spiral pendant that I loved - it was surprisingly heavy, and I was enchanted by the graceful curl of the piece.  Fortunately, the vendor was talking with another customer so I couldn't ask about the price.  I would've either bought it or been sad that I couldn't buy it because the price was too high.

Eli sampled some honey made by a company called Open Hive Honey, and he bought a jar of the soft-set honey.

This is from the Open Hive website:  Soft set, or creamed honey as it used to be known, is made from regular honey in which the natural granulation process is controlled to give a rich and buttery honey texture. There is nothing added to soft set honey except honey that has already granulated naturally over time. We bring our bees down to Newcastle in Co. Wicklow in early spring to gather the nectar from the Oilseed rape.

We stopped at the table for Mangan Studio, which displayed some very pretty pottery pieces - small dishes, bowls, and mugs.  Eli has a tea ball strainer that he tends to balance over the sink so it doesn't stain the countertop.  I wanted to get a spoon rest or something so he could put the strainer on that (we could've used a mug but that's no fun).  We wound up buying this small vessel, which has worked out quite well.  It was kinda cool because the vendor asked what use we planned for this piece.  I thought it was interesting that she wanted to know how her creations would be of service out in the world.

Just as we were leaving the market, the skies opened up and it started to pour.  We ducked into the Fumbally Stables' cafe/store right next door.  We had considered eating at the cafe, but it was packed.  Instead, we spent a few minutes looking through the shop, which had a mix of items - fresh breads and pastries, vegetables, cheese, books, socks, candy, and other treats.

We made our way back to the bus stop, fighting the wind and the rain.  I saw many people with inside-out umbrellas.  Eli and I both have long rain slickers with hoods, so it was nice to not have to fight with an umbrella since they're fairly useless when it's windy.

At one stop, a lady got on the bus and was talking with the driver.  I wasn't paying attention to the interaction, but Eli later said that she mentioned she had Apple Pay (which isn't accepted on a bus) but no cash.  He said the driver just waved her on.  Obviously, they're not supposed to let people ride without paying, so it was kind that he let her stay and didn't turn her back out into the yucky weather.

Thankfully, the tram back home was not busy at all.  Eli wanted to go to the grocery store, so he left the tram at the Leopardstown Valley stop and I continued toward home.  Just as I stepped off the tram onto the platform at Laughanstown, the wind started blasting and the rain came pelting down.  It was not a pleasant hurried walk to the house.

When Eli got home, I glanced at his jeans.  His rain coat stops about mid-thigh, and his jeans below that area were dark blue because they were soaked.

It was a fairly miserable experience, which was disappointing.

Round 2 of the market adventures was scheduled for Saturday with plans to attend the event at Kilternan Parish.  We kept an eye on the weather forecast.  It was still supposed to be rainy and windy but indications were that it wouldn't be as awful as Friday had been.

We took the tram one stop to Carrickmines and waited for the L26 bus which arrived after about a 12-minute wait.  Usually onboard, there's an electronic sign that shows you the upcoming stop and/or there are announcements before each stop.  Neither of these aids were working on this bus.  When we drove past the church, we decided to get off at the next stop which was a few blocks down the road.

Of course, it started to rain while we were walking to the market.  It wasn't a driving rain, but it was heavier than a light mist so up came the hoods on our jackets.

This market featured a visit with Santa, so there were a lot of children in the building.  This made it difficult to navigate the crowded vendor rooms as children usually don't have a sense of their surroundings and tend to stand in the way (granted, a lot of adults do this too).

I didn't spend much time looking at many of the wares on display.  My main purpose for wanting to go to this market was to visit the booth of my acquaintance Laura, who makes stuffed animals, among other things.

This cute critter came home with me.  S/he doesn't have a name yet (Holly was the first thing to pop into my head, but we'll see if that sticks).  So unlike Gayla Peevey, I actually did get a hippopotamus for Christmas.  (If you have no idea what that means, give the link a click and listen to the song.)

Gayla Peevey - I Want a Hippopotamus for Christmas (Hippo the Hero) (Audio)

The church has a small coffee counter with donation-based goods - coffees and cookies and such.  There was one table available so I sat down before anyone else could snag it while Eli went to get us some goodies.  He brought back two cocoas, a gingerbread cookie, and a chocolate chunk cookie.  We enjoyed our treats while listening to the choir singing Christmas carols.  Their last number was "We Wish You a Merry Christmas" and the crowd was encouraged to join in.  It was extremely difficult to sing along without wanting to veer into the Muppets' version (ANIMAL, SIT!).

John Denver & The Muppets We Wish You a Merry Christmas

Eli plunged back into the masses in the vendor room, wanting to check out a couple tables that had various baked goods.  He came back with some treats - brown bread (not pictured), jam sponge, and shortbread cookies

I was certain it was going to start raining again as soon as we left the church for the walk to the bus stop.  That seems to have been the pattern for us but thankfully, it did not happen.  A thing that DID happen was that as we came around a corner of a wall, a big gust of wind slapped us.  It caught the collar of my jacket and a coat snap slammed into my front tooth.  I was like "Really?  I finally have a decent time, only to wind up with a broken tooth?"  Fortunately, my tooth remained intact.

During our entire outing, there was a persistent rainbow that was appearing and disappearing as the sun weaved and bobbed around the clouds.  I like to think it was the Universe saying "Sorry about what happened on Friday.  My bad."

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.