But more importantly, the matter of "here". OH MY GOODNESS. DAHHHHH. I don't even know what to say about Donegal. And I haven't even seen that much - just what we drove through, and the house where I'm staying now. But I'm completely overwhelmed by the beauty here. Their house here is HUGE! I wasn't counting on it being like this. It's beautiful, fully furnished and decorated, and the west-facing side of the house is full of windows that look out on an INCREDIBLE view of an ocean inlet. From their lovely yard, a path goes down to the very edge of the country. The water looks more like a lake than an ocean, I guess, but this whole area of Donegal is made of small peninsulas; the water is blue and clean and salty and calm and beautiful. And the other three sides of the house are surrounded by hills. Also, their neighbors have sheep! Sheep with baby sheep! They're so cute! But this place. Agh. As soon as we got here I walked down to the seaside (which is pebbly and rocky and reedy, not sandy like our beaches), trying to reconcile the fact that people can actually live every-day lives in places like this. I still don't understand that. I do feel a more creative "click" here than any other place I've been to in the country, though, so maybe some good writing will come out of it. Unfortunately there's not really a path that goes along the perimeter of the inlet - it's all separated by people's fences and property lines. So I can't really go on walks around it that way... but I'll do some exploring, and figure something out.
Okay, I was just googling this part of Donegal to see if I could give you an appropriate picture of what it's like. I'm not sure exactly where in the county this image comes from, but this is pretty much what the drive/this area looks like:
The house itself just knocks me out. My room is the only one downstairs (late night kitchen raids? bwahaha) and it's an "en suite" room, too. The family originally built this house to move into it permanently, because all of their family lives here, so it makes sense that they put a lot of work into making it perfect. It also makes sense, I guess, that they missed being in the city with their friends and their church and - well, everything else that doesn't exist out in the rural country. But MAN. If I owned this place I don't think I could ever leave.
Disclaimer: I may be changing my tune in a week or so, if I myself run out of things to do. But that doesn't spoil the awe for now. It IS beautiful, no two ways about it.
Anyway, the drive today was very nice. I spent the first 3/4's with Carole in her car (we took two, as they apparently usually do) and then we stopped at the Ulster-American Folk Museum. After eating sandwiches in the cars (it was too cold to go outside), Carole drove on alone to get the house ready, and Ray, the boys and myself went to the museum. Although the place inCLUDED a museum, "museum" really isn't the right word for it. It's more like a park - it was HUGE. The idea of it is to show what real Northern Ireland was like in the 1800's, pre- and post-famine, and also to show what became of the emigrants who went to America. So the first half of the park was set up with original Irish country houses, complete with people dressed in costume who took great pride in discussing the histories and stories of the land. There were houses, churches, schools, and shops of all kinds. Then you go down to the "dock" (which is inside a building), and board a ship bound for America. The man who was playing Captain today was quite chatty... he must have talked to us for a good half hour. Escape was futile. Ray remarked later that we were lucky to get away with me - five more minutes and I may have been kidnapped by an overly-friendly seaman. Oh, ha, it also is worth remarking about the weather: while we were exploring historic Ireland, the weather was (as I mentioned) freezing cold and fairly dark with clouds. But miraculously, when we stepped out of the ship and into the streets of historic New England, the sun came out and it was actually quite warm! The change in location felt so real that I don't think Mark fully understood the fact that the weather had simply changed... as he removed his jumper (sorry, his jacket) he said with complete sincerity, "No wonder people say it's so hot in America! I'm roasting!" So we wandered through the streets of old New England for awhile, visiting some shops and houses and bars and post offices. It's funny - I didn't notice the differences between American homes and Irish homes while we were looking at the Irish ones, but as soon as we came to "America", I was noticing every difference with fondness. From the types of spices hung in the kitchens to the shape of the chimneys, the wooden roofs instead of straw ones, the log fences instead of stone walls, the rugged feel of the old west rather than the strict simplicity of the famine houses. The boys kept pointing out things that were "weird" about the American houses; but even though I knew the houses were only models, and that I obviously wasn't really in America, I felt strangely closer to home.
Also, whenever I see a map of America someplace, I can't resist pointing out where I live. And last night when I was talking to a girl from Canada, I distinctly noticed myself getting all bristly when she was talking about American things that don't make sense.
I guess I really am an American. What a fabulous thing.
Anyway - wow, my eyes are closing and it's not even 10:00. Nothing else really happened today, aside from all that. We arrived here around dinner time, since it was about another hour from the museum/park. And I've spent the past four hours being generally amazed and overwhelmed every time I look around the room or (and especially) out the window. Tomorrow's Sunday, and church doesn't start until noon. How glorious! You know what else is glorious? My birthday's in a week. :D Yay for how "19" sounds older than "18".
I'm going to go to bed and dream about buying my own plot of Donegal land.
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