My Neighbor is a Castle

Before we moved cross the ocean to a little green island, the first thing others would tell us about Ireland is how nice the people here were. And they so are! They cant stop throwing us parties wherever we go! We spent our first week in Clontarf, which is a charming seaside village with things to boast like a bird sanctuary, a dazzling rose garden, and parks that sprawl for ages. And they must have heard we were there, because on that Saturday they held their yearly food festival! Just for us, Ive decided. The zoo was there with crocodiles, someone was juggling fire, and there was even a car show for Jon.

When we moved into Dublin on the next Friday, we were greeted by one of the biggest parades we'd ever seen in person! Because our windows face a main street, we got the best seats in the house! Rather than throng on the streets with thousands people, we made coffee and sat on our sill to watch it all go by. It was Dublin's Pride Week, and it was a MAJOR party that lasted all night. I can personally tell you it lasted all night (and into the morning too), because our main-street-facing windows have their setbacks. They may be double-paned to keep heat in, but they dont do much to keep the sound out. Lets just say our sleepless night was fitfully filled with club music and sparkles, and wing-wearing men who apply their makeup with way more skill than I ever could. I bought earplugs today, just in case Dublin decides to throw us any more welcome-home parties this Saturday.

And it really does feel like Home. We made it all the way here, and I can honestly say I love my city. I cross the street with a quick sure pace, because I know where Im going. But look both ways twice because I keep forgetting just what side the cars will come from. I call the bathroom The Toilet, but it still sounds weird. I do my laundry in the kitchen, and keep the softener next to the sugar. But I moved it to the closet because it made my potatoes floral-scented. I buy food for just one day at a time, but its better that way because my fridge is only 3ft high with no freezer in sight. When its time to cook, I switch on the power to the range so the burners will heat up. Then I switch the outlet off again. When we talk about the weather, Ill tell you it got to a glorious 20 degrees! Celsius, meters, and grams are becoming normal parts of my speech now. I spend 5-ers and 10-ers, not 5 bucks or 10 bucks. Wording here is more proper, and Jon has adopted the word 'quite'. Dinner was QUITE good. The weather is QUITE nice. Even a tv ad for toilet paper seems prim when you say 'O-wer tooy-lett pay-pa is new soof-ta than eva'. When I go out, I wear full leggings and a skirt, with flip-flops and a scarf. I tuck sunglasses next to my umbrella in my messenger-bag purse, because the weather changes every fifteen minutes, and I am prepared. The TV is a Telly, the cops are the Gardai. I dont say 'parking lot', I say 'car park'. I love the rain, but I cant say so without strange looks. And you cant call us tourists anymore.

Because we totally live here.

What Time Is It Again?

I sat at the huge glass window, watching the lightning-filled sky over our plane to Ireland. I sent out my last goodbyes over text message as our last flight to our new life was delayed. I wasnt nervous as much as tired. I just wanted to leave already, and I knew there was a 6-hour flight ahead of me. We were finally boarded, only to taxi around for two hours. Luckily, we got seated by possibly the most annoying lady in the airport. She made the whole row (ours) take a picture together (while the seat-belt sign was on) and give each other our emails so we could later Facebook each other (I lied when it was my turn). Everyone in hearing range now knows extremely personal things about this lady, including every detail about her ex-husband and their divorce, and her very graphic 9-11 memories. Anyway, the 2-hr taxi and the 6-hr flight were awesome (when I had my headphones on High volume).


We finally landed in Dublin, Ireland, our new country. A random idea that formed one night on our tiny American kitchen floor after a dinner with good friends. A moonstruck dream come to reality in a few short months' time. The self-crazed lady, to her credit, was the first person to say, "Welcome Home!" to us when the plane landed. And it wasnt even raining! Well it rained later that day, but it was light so I guess here it doesnt count as rain. On a cool note, here they have "Dry Days" and every other day you can expect rain. And Dry doesnt mean Sun, just that the clouds wont drop their rains.

Our hosts, Phil & Betty, are really amazing! They have driven us around to so many cool places already, just to show us about town! They are so generous and kind. Not only do they cook three meals a day for us and let us live with them for an open-ended amount of time, they even forgive us when we butcher the foreign street names. Betty told me she will take us to tea in Clontarf Castle this week! So stoked! She said, "Americans love to have tea in a castle". Yes ma'am! We dont have them laying around in the States. Their castles here are like Starbucks there: one on every corner. (Side note: No Starbucks in Dublin, but she told me their coffee place 'Insomnia' is as plentiful and delicious as our beloved green mermaid. I will let you know).

So our first and second days have been amazing, but every once in awhile Ill catch myself in a thought and realize, "Woah. I totally live in Ireland." Which is pretty fantastic.

It's Raining Change! (in more ways than one)

Call me Frodo. The movie is Lord of the Rings III (Return of the King), near the last scene. Frodo is saying goodbye to his Hobbit buddies, about to sail off to live with elves and never see the mortal world again. He's also the only dry-eyed one in the group. Its not that Frodo isnt really sad about leaving, because he is. I think he will really miss his friends back home, and his family especially. Isnt a goodbye consistently harder for the ones left behind? It doesn't matter what kind of leaving behind is being done, if you're the one left. I'm not going to be gone forever, and my ship looks a lot more like an airplane, but there are parallels. I think Frodo cried some on the ride to his new home, even if there were elves there. So did I.

One last goodbye after another this month finally led to our departure through the Magic Portal Into Space (the quickly over, yet intrusive, full body scan). As we boarded our first tiny airplane to our Phoenix layover, I was trying to not explode with thoughts. They ranged from being kind of thirsty, to the knowledge that I will probably miss my little brother's high school graduation ceremony. And all in the name of adventure. Sometimes I wonder how much is worth sacrificing for a dream. My dog forgetting who I am? Missing literally years of my sister's life? Is it really worth the pain?

Luckily, there was a man in the seat right behind me who interrupted my thinking. He had at some point during today, decided that an entire sandwich-sized Ziploc full of change would be a good thing to have in a carry-on. Then he decided that carry-on belonged directly above my head. Well as I was staring at my coffee (Venti house brew, Coconut sweetener & nonfat milk thanksverymuch), there was a sudden onslaught of change falling onto my head! My row got a good laugh, and I think I stole half a buck.

But change is everywhere. Not just in my hair either. We are in for lots more changes before this month is through, and I can honestly say we are enjoying it. If there's one thing Jon & I are good at, its traveling together. So as sad as its been to say goodbye to our loved ones, we wake up each day ready for more. More stories, more experiences, more life. Tears, or no.