And so it begins…

My son is in the air, making his way back from Ireland to his beloved Moorestown, NJ. I wait with bated breath for the text that will tell me he’s landed, safe and sound. All growing up, when he would go with my ex for visitation, he would make what we called a “safe and sound” call. I couldn’t live without it.

Now here I sit in my new digs–having been cooked a lovely dinner by my new hostess (E100/week for room, bath and really, use of the whole lovely house), Triona (treena)–I’m watching what they call The Late, Late Show: and it’s only 9:40 pm! The news at 9 is done, and here’s the late show. Awesome idea, eh? I can’t tell you how often I’ve stayed up way past when I should to catch someone I like on our own Late, Late Show with Craig Ferguson. Even to watch Letterman or Leno to completion, you’re up ’til 12:35 am.

But I digress. The vacation, as it was spent in the spectacular Ritz-Carlton, is over…and we miss it already. We spent our last morning having breakfast in The Sugar Loaf Lounge out there in Powerscourt, Enniskerry in County Wicklow ( I had french toast with this amazing “cream” they put on everything here:

Image I realized I should take this pic with my very last bite–and believe me, I ate every last bite. DE-licious; fattening, yes, but so worth it!

After breakfast, we went out back because it was nice and sunny. This truly is a beautiful place:



You see why we’re so sad to leave.

But I am now, officially, on The Adventure! As I rode the Aircoach back toward Dublin, I looked at the surrounding buildings and got a little depressed. It’s not Hawaii, or the Bahamas, this place I’ve retreated to; it’s a suffering country, just like ours, and the houses and shops along the “motorways” are, alternately, grand and sad. There are many Chinese “take aways” here, just like home. There are nice stores like Macy’s and 7-11 type places called Spar. There are people who look just like us, and I’ve made a game of trying to decide who’s Irish and who’s not; sometimes it’s easy, and sometimes not. But I’m pretty good at spotting the Americans: they’re the ones wearing t-shirts and shorts, no socks and sneakers and looking kind of obnoxious. And they’re loud. Seriously, we don’t stand up well next to these friendly, polite Irish folks. I’m finding that I’m more polite already…and, as you know, we Northeast Americans could be a little more mannerly, especially on the road!

And so it begins…when I get that text from Mike, I’ll be able to exhale and begin enjoying this new land. Until then (now about another hour or more wait), I will have another glass of wine and watch the late, late show on which they are now discussing clothes made from duck down 🙂


2 thoughts on “And so it begins…

  1. Proud of you Patti!! You’ve jumped the first hurdle and you seem to be settling into the way of life already. Take it all in, breath that air, feel what it’s like to be Irish!! I’m sure Michael is back safe and sound and you can go do your thing.

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