"There is no fear, just nonsense."

Laid back, pleasant day-wise, it would be hard to beat today.

Today I got to show Kate all of my favorite things about Dublin - the things which hundreds of Dubliners walk by every day without much to-do, but which still make my heart pound nearly audibly. Poor Kate - I kept pointing things out, and giving her as many interesting facts as I knew about them, and then telling her about my previous experiences there... when really, I think Kate (if she's anything like me, which I know she is) just wanted to see for herself. But I couldn't help it. This whole time, I've been wandering around on my own, completely overwhelmed by the beauty and sheer awesomeness of the things around me, with no one to elbow and say "Look!" to. So many times I've just wanted to stop walking in the middle of the road, point and just yell, "LOOK AT THIS." Because I feel like nobody really does. But I don't do that... because I don't want to be hit by a car, or put in an asylum, or anything like that. So instead, I annoy Kate with thousands of little facts and memories. She was very good about it, though.

In all, we spent about 13 hours out today. As I write, I am in bed, stretching out my very sore legs. Kate is already snoring next to me.

We started out in Merrion Square Park, because I wanted to show her Oscar Wilde. We then went to the National Gallery, Dublin Castle and the gardens, (The Chester Beatty Library was closed... sad), Christchurch Cathedral, St. Patrick's Cathedral (not inside... I think we're saving that for tomorrow), and Trinity College. I wasn't sure if I wanted to go back a second time - because my first time was so glorious that I was afraid I'd be a little underwhelmed a second time. It was a bit too crowded today for my liking, and the sky was so dull that the Old Library just wasn't quite the same. But still. What a majestic place. I really do think that the Old Library at Trinity College is one of my favorite places on earth.

We then meandered up O'Connell Street, searching for a non-crowded pub where we could enjoy our first official pub meal. O'Connell Street yielded no results, so we went back down south and walked along the river until we entered Temple Bar. It was my first time back in that block since my first day in Dublin - I got lost that day and couldn't get OUT of the area, so I've since avoided it. (Also, side note. I am incredibly proud of myself today - I navigated us all around the city, even the unfamiliar parts, without getting us lost once!) We finally happened upon a place called "Auld Dubliners", which we thought looked promising. I think that was one of my favorite dining experiences ever. It was a nicely sized place, a bit dimly lighted, with a few tables on a platform in the back. The first thing I noticed as we made our way to a small table was that Simon and Garfunkel's "Homeward Bound" was playing on the radio. A fellow came up and asked if we were looking for food or a drink, and we told him both. We each ended up with the day's special: beans, fish and chips with a pint of Harp. Shortly after our meal was served, a local fellow took to the microphone with his guitar and treated us to popular Irish and American songs (ranging from old Celtic tunes to "Wild Rover" (aghhhhh) to "I Want to Hold Your Hand" to "Folsem Prison Blues"). We were there for quite a while, just enjoying our food and pints and the general atmosphere of the Auld Dubliners.

As we were gathering up our things to go, two fellows approached our table and asked if they could sit. By then the pub was beginning to fill up a bit, and our table had extra chairs, so we obliged them - mostly because we knew we were leaving in a few minutes. But oh my goodness. Most hilarious few minutes ever. They were Norwegians, here in Dublin for a three day "pub crawl". Apparently they had been at it today since noon, and had been to six or seven pubs in that time. One of them, a shorter round fellow, was extreeeeemely sloshed - he pulled out a map of the city to show me where all the pubs they'd been to were, and he could barely hold it straight. After discovering that we are Americans, they asked what we were in Dublin for. I told them that we had time off from school so we just wanted to do some traveling. Drunk-Norwegian gasped and said, in a very slurred, halting way: "But! For Americans! Isn't that extremely... expensive and... unUSUAL?!" We assured him that it was, wished them luck on the rest of their pub crawling, and I told them to help themselves to our table. As we left the area, Drunk-Norwegian began to sing "And it's no... nay... neverrrr...." in self-consolation. Kate and I headed out and walked along the river for an hour, snickering to ourselves and speaking with Norwegian accents when we felt like it.

We spent an hour or so just walking along the Liffey, and around 7 we made our way to the Abbey Theater. We had incredibly good seats - five rows from the stage, dead center! - and the play was incredibly enjoyable. Also rather scandalous at times - so we've told Ray and Carole not to take the boys to it, for sure. But we had a grand old time. I'm really glad Kate went with me... those sorts of things are much more fun when you've got somebody you love with you. It was an incredibly Irish, modern take on Alice in Wonderland - and it made me happy to get a lot of the Irish culture jokes that I knew Kate didn't get. Not to rub it in or anything... it's just that I've been around the culture here much longer. She enjoyed it a ton, though - it was incredibly well done, and a good time was had all around. Except by our legs, which were a bit angry at sitting still for that long after walking so much for the rest of the day.

The play was over by 10:30, and we made our way through a few sketchy streets to the DART station. Kate almost fell asleep on the train home, but we covered the last part of the journey quickly and arrived back a bit after 11. We drank a few glasses of water each and went straight to bed. Which brings us up to date - which also reminds me that my eyes are closing. SO. I'm going to go to bed, wake up at 8 tomorrow, and enjoy my last full day in Ireland. Last full day. How incredibly strange.

Goodnight. :)

It's all Blarney to me.

Well my goodness. Hello! I have to say, blogging is kind of a daunting task right now because I have an incredible amount to say, but not much time or energy to say it with. I've come to terms with the fact that I will have to write about England and France when I get home to California. There's too much going on every day to spend time reminiscing about days previous. I know that means that much of the interest will be gone, readers-at-home-wise, because I'll be back and you can ask me in person by then. But this blog has been for me more than anyone, if I'm being honest, because writing is how I process and organize my jumbled thoughts and memories. So the stories of last week will be here, eventually, for those of you who are interested in reading them. I'd just rather focus on Ireland while I'm here for the next three days.

Three days! I can't believe that. The thought of going home is just really strange now. It's not a bad strange, as in "I'm not ready to go back yet"... but it's also not a "I'm so happy to call this adventure over!"-strange, either. It's just a sort of surreal awareness that whatever I was looking for when I set out on this trip hasn't been found yet - but maybe I've gotten closer.

Maybe that's even a more mature way of looking at this whole traveling thing. After past travels, I've always hit a sort of post-adventure depression upon returning home, because I felt like everything would just go back to boring old normalcy. But really, if you stay anywhere long enough, you'll lose the rose-colored glasses and you'll have to deal with things that may not be as fun or carefree. It's odd that I had to live in Europe for two months to realize that it really doesn't matter where you are - even though beautiful scenery is a nice plus. It really only matters what you're doing. Which means, it's not California that has an un-rosy, boring normalcy. That's what I allowed it to become. So even if I haven't quite discovered the secret to being completely content in one place, I suppose I'm slowly figuring out the way to get there.

I guess that's a fairly good lesson to come away with.

Anyway. Let's see... today was a nice laid back day. It was my last Sunday at Adelaide Road Presbyterian, which is a pity. I've really enjoyed being at that church - the people there are so nice! It was fun getting to show Kate off - I mean, introduce her - to all the people I've met over the past two months. We really are much better as a pair, I think. Kate and Amelia both. I feel more like myself when I'm with either of them than when I'm on my own - which is a bit sad, really... but there it is. I've missed feeling like my whole self these weeks, and it's been great to be "complete" again since Kate and I found each other in London. (Heathrow - AGH. But that's another story.) After church we had "wraps" for lunch, and then Ray dropped me and Kate off at the harbor in Dun Laoghaire (after we made a run to the store for some batteries). It's been freezing cold and terribly windy here this week, and today has been the worst yet - which, of course, meant that Kate and I had to go and lurk about the seashore. The air was completely drenched with ocean spray and sea foam, as the waves hit parts of the rocks and pavement that I've never even seen get wet. At one point we were standing near the railing of the footpath, just talking, and a huge wave came up, crashed on the rocks next to us, and completely drenched Kate's back and my side. The fact that it hit the side of my face actually has been kind of concerning me this evening - the whole rest of the time that we were out, my ear was numb and throbbing. So I'm really praying that I don't get an ear infection or pneumonia or anything... but yeah. I should be fine. It was good for a laugh, at any rate, and it makes my point that the weather here has been pretty crazy. Sheesh! Nature! What a crazy world. The more I look at how the world works, the more I'm in awe of how majestic and beautiful and terribly violent nature really is. It's so cool! And it's hard to remember that, in sunny California where the temperature only varies about 20 degrees... but still. What a fascinating place our planet is.

So I showed Kate the sights of Dun Laoghaire and the (usually tranquil) beach where I've often gone to read or eat raisin bread and watch the sailboats. We then waked back to Dalkey, and I showed her the village... and then we headed back home for dinner, a few cups of tea, and some TV with the family.

I'm going to move back in time a bit now, and write about Blarney. After Kate and I got back from Paris on Thursday, we spent the night in Dalkey and then caught a 10:00 bus from Dublin to Cork the following morning. The bus ride took 4 hours and 45 minutes, but we drove through some incredible parts of the country (and saw 3 or 4 castles, including the Rock of Cashel - which is AMAZING, and we saw it up close!). Kate and I both had our ipods and so we listened to music and stared out the windows the whole time, and pinched each other on the arm when we felt too happy to keep to ourselves. We got into Cork at almost 3, and suddenly had the terrifying realization that we had no idea how to get to our B&B in Blarney. I knew the name of it... and I knew there was a bus from Cork to Blarney that we could hop on. But past that... we were a bit lost. So we hopped on the bus and rode a half hour - and I was praying all the way that I'd be able to find it, because I felt really stupid for not planning better. Then, lo and behold, on a country rode just outside of town, I saw a sign pointing towards an expanse of field that said "Lanesville B&B". A minute before, someone had hit the "stop" button and the driver pulled over shortly after. Kate hadn't seen the sign, but she believed me and we hopped off the bus. As the bus pulled away, it hit me that if I was wrong about the sign, then Kate and I had just lost our ride... but we walked back toward the sign and hoped for the best. Long story short, I was right - and we followed the signs for about a mile through the back country roads (including some cow pastures and school yards) until we reached a nice little house with an envelope bearing Kate's name taped to the door. Thus armed with our key and a warm little welcome note, we made our way up to our room (which had a beautiful view of the countryside and some cows, which excited Kate very much). Also, shortly after the owner arrived and showed us around and gave us some tips (and bus schedules). Aside moment for an advertisement: if you ever go to Blarney, stay at the Lanesville B&B. It was a lovely, clean little place, a close enough distance to Blarney Castle (less than a mile out of the "town"), the home-cooked breakfast was FANTASTIC and the family that runs the place is lovely. Also, Bryan (the owner) drove us into town twice, which was really nice. I think even the fact that our room had two beds instead of one (apparently I steal the blankets... but Kate hits.) was enough to make us love the place.

So after we checked in, like I said, Bryan dropped us off in town so that we could get some dinner. On the way down, he gave us a nice little speech about the different restaurants in town (there are 4, not counting all the pubs) and who was serving what kind of fish, and so on. Kate and I listened politely, exited the car, and headed into a supermarket where we bought a loaf of bread, some fresh ham, white cheddar, an apple pie, and a few Guinness'. We then sat on a big old tree stump in the village park and ate our dinner, while a pack of nearby crows hunted for worms. Kate was feeling incredibly poetic after our long day, and gave me a shpeel about how Oswald (the biggest crow, and the mangiest, in my opinion) was doing "just what he was made to do". Well, Oswald the Mangy Crow could have his worms - more power to him. I, however, was doing exactly what I was made to do, and fortunately my sandwich, pie and Guinness was doing the same.

Shortly after dinner, we realized that we'd made a terrible mistake. Upon our arrival, y'see, Bryan had told us that their credit-card machine wasn't working yet, so we'd have to pay in cash. Only, neither of us had that much cash, so we'd meant to bring a credit card down to town when he dropped us off. Well, guess what two people hadn't brought their credit cards? So, after we finished dinner, we walked the 3/4's mile back to the B&B, got my card, walked BACK the 3/4's mile to town, asked everyone and their mother where to find an ATM machine, and finally found one on a wall near a bar called Christy's after stopping in four different places and getting stopped by a man in a jeep who asked if we knew where the Parish Priest lived. Fortunately, though, the bad weather was on the East side of the island this whole time, so our 3 or 4 mile jaunt that evening existed in the warming light of the setting late-spring sun and the fresh smell of good dirt and grassy fields. Also, whenever I get tired of walking and start to think about my aching feet or back... I just smile and think, instead, about how good I'll feel in a bathing suit this summer. :)

So that was Friday. On Saturday, we woke at 7:30, got ready for the day and went down to breakfast at 8. I love European hotels/B&B's that serve breakfast. Maybe it's just the fact that someone else is providing food for you - or maybe the food here really is just magic. In either case, it's enough to make your day seem bright from the get-go. Two full plates and six cups of coffee (between the two of us) later, we re-packed our possessions into our one bag and Bryan dropped us at the door of Blarney Castle.

What a fantastic place! We spent almost 4 hours wandering around there. And because it was early on a Saturday morning, and not quite tourist season yet, we were the first people into the gates - which meant, that we were also the first people that 28th day of April to kiss the famed Blarney Stone. The light was still gorgeous across the wild landscape of the parks surrounding the castle, which made it really easy to believe that some sort of magic did (or does) exist in that spot. I don't mean that in a cheesy way, at least not as cheesy as it sounds... but when you're in places like that, with so much beauty and history around you, it's hard not to feel like there's more to a landscape than meets the eye. We didn't rush past any of it, by any means, but we did make our way to the top of the Castle as reasonably quickly as we could - I was having a hard enough time convincing Kate that it was okay to kiss a rock that thousands of other people have kissed, and I knew I'd lose her interest if we had to wait in a long line to do it. After ascending some treacherously narrow and winding stairs, we found ourselves standing on the walk around the castle walls, open to the air and far above the trees and creeks around us. Two men - the older one kneeling next to a hole in the floor and the younger one standing near a camera and tripod - were the only people up there before us. We approached them cautiously and I urged Kate forward, before she could think to back out of it. You should see the picture I got of her, laying on her back, head and torso upside-down through the opening in the castle's wall... one hand clutching the bar (the one you're supposed to hold), and the other hand holding onto the old man's arm for dear life. hahaha. It was a fantastic thing to witness. Kate was in and out of there in about .2 seconds, so then it was my turn. It's actually slightly alarming, once you're upside down, sliding down the rubber mat, with only a sheer drop and a few metal bars to keep you from becoming a permanent part of the landscape. For a brief second I was worried that I'd kiss the wrong stone, but a few inches later I found a rock that looked different than any of the others - and I planted one on it. When I pulled myself up, the old man (the one who holds your stomach while you're down there, apparently...) made some comment to the other fellow about how I kissed the rock like I loved it. Or something like that. I didn't quite hear him, so I think I just looked really confused, and he told me, "Ah, ye can't take life too seriously! Y'know!" And with my new-found eloquence, I told him, "I don't think I'm taking it too seriously... I just kissed a rock!"

Well. After that, we explored the castle for a bit, and then wandered off to explore the grounds. You only ever hear about the Stone - you never hear about the gorgeous gardens, or the lake, or the horses (one of which bit Kate.. hahahahhaaha. I mean, I'm a good, caring sister. Really.), or the electric fences (which ALSO got the better of Kate... slightly tied in to the horse incident, really), or the nearby gorgeous Victorian house that people still live in, or the big ancient towers that you can climb on and enjoy your last bit of apple pie and Guinness from, or the many other "lucky" landmarks aside from the Stone. There's a Dolman that you can walk underneath, to get in touch with your more magical-side, and there is also a rather treacherous staircase next to a waterfall called the Wishing Steps. Apparently if you can ascend and descend the stairs with your eyes closed without falling to your death or decapitating yourself on a certain low-hanging stone in the passageway at the top, and if you can concentrate on a wish throughout the whole process, your wish will come true. I'm not going to tell what I wished for, because that would be cheating - sort of like opening my eyes at the top to make sure my head stayed on my neck. But we'll see if I'm an accomplished writer in 50 years, and then maybe I'll tell you what I wished for. :)

Well shoot. This is long. I know more things happened, but I should wind it up because I promised to skype Mom soon. At 1:00, Kate and I caught a bus from Blarney to Cork, where we ate our lunch near the river and then wandered around the streets for awhile... when it started raining, we found a 200 year old Cathedral to go into (St. Finn Barre's. Not the most amazing Cathedral I've seen by far, but it was cool). At 4, we caught our bus to Dublin. The way to Cork was much more pleasant than the way back, we'll just say... namely due to a bus driver who played terrible music on the radio the whole time, with which our ipods couldn't compete. We got off at O'Connell Street, splurged and got some combo's from Burger King (I know, I know... but desperate times call for desperate measures. We needed those french fries.) and I showed Kate the sights while we headed toward the DART station, Dalkey-bound. We got in, had some coffee with Ray and Carole, and came back up to our room. Kate crashed around 11, but I was up for another few hours - too tired to write anything good, but not exhausted enough for sleep. Which will not be the case tonight! I plan on sleeping incredibly soundly, whether or not I steal the blankets or have to deal with Kate's sleep-violence.

Tomorrow will be fantastic. We're spending the day in Dublin, and going to the theater in the evening. Tuesday is coming up - my last evening of Carole's cooking. Sad that that's all I can think about, isn't it? paha. Anyway. Wednesday is coming soon. Crazy. You know, I'm glad. This has been an incredible journey - but I'm ready to have incredible journeys in the States, too.

Goodnight, folks. Have a good afternoon, California.

Standing Solo in the Sun

We're back! In Dublin, that is. I wish I could write an appropriate update, but that may have to wait until I'm back on California soil... or at least, until after this Saturday. Still far too much to see and to do before we head home on Wednesday, but I will do my best to be regular in writing after this weekend. The main thing I wanted to pass along is that Kate and I are safe and sound in Dalkey tonight, and that we had an incredible time in London, Dover and Paris. Multiply incredible by amazing and ten, and you'll have an idea of our week.

We're heading out in the morning for Blarney, but we'll be back in Dalkey again on Saturday night - here to stay until we fly home for good. Or at least, for the summer.

I'll write more in a few days, then. I'm dead tired for now, even though it's only 10:30. What glorious days there are. I hope that you are having a glorious day too, in whatever corner of our beautiful world you find yourself in.

Goodnight, and talk to you soon.

I will call you up and say, "Ain't this life a riot?" And you will understand, you will understand.

Shoot darn. I feel like tonight is one of those nights that I'd write a really long blog, but alas, it is almost 10 and I wake up at 5... and probably won't be getting much sleep for the rest of the week. And I will need my wits about me tomorrow at Heathrow when I have to track down my sister. Which reminds me, if you could please pray that I find her alright at the airport, that would be really nice - because we don't have a backup plan.

Anyway. I will say that today's tour at Newgrange was really fantastic. It was even sunshiney most of the time!!! Which was incredible, because rain has been forecasted all week. It did rain quite a bit between sites, but while we were out walking about on hilltops and monuments, it was perfect. It's funny how God blesses us with those funny little things that don't really matter, like weather. Whiiiiich is convicting to think about right now, because I've been really stressing about the Heathrow thing tonight. But I guess if God can give me a sunshiney day for a tiny little tour, He can help me find my sister at one of the busiest airports in the world.

We visited The Hill of Tara and the passage tomb at Newgrange, which was incredible. When I come back, I'll have to write a full on update of that. Although, I'm not sure how much blogging I'm going to be able to do from here on out... Kate and I will be away from computers until next Thursday night. We spend one night back here, and then head out the next morning for Blarney. (We couldn't be in Ireland without going to Blarney Castle. Come on.) We'll be back to Dublin on that Saturday night, and we'll be here until we fly home on the following Wednesday. So we'll see how the blogging goes. But I'll make sure and write sufficient histories of our adventures when I get back to California, at the very least.

Topics to cover (eventually) about today:
-How I forgot to mention the kindly security guard at the National Gallery on Monday, who told me that I looked happy. And how I responded that I was happy to be with art, and he laughed.
-How I really don't need to tell that story anymore, because I just did.
-How I almost missed my tour bus because the DART train had a faulty track this morning.
-How there was a lousy group of French teenage students on our tour bus today, who were incredibly loud and rude and almost got kicked off the bus.
-How I'm trying not to be racist.
-How I'm really not racist, because I fell in love with the Asian couple and their baby who sat in front of me. And how the baby kept looking back at me over the seat and smiling and cracking up at the faces I'd make.
-How I'm pretty much magic with children. (And humble.)
-How I slipped and full-on fell on the top of the Hill of Tara because it had just started raining... and how ridiculous that looked.
-How incredible Newgrange is, and how amazing the demonstration of the light that enters the tomb on the Winter Solstice was, once we were inside.
-How I have been almost adopted by numerous old couples on this trip, including a couple of elderly Americans today who stood by my side while I informed the guy at the gate of Newgrange that I didn't have a ticket because my tour-guide hadn't given me one. I'm pretty sure they would have fought him for me, if they'd had to.
-How I talked to an Australian lady who is married to a judge, and how I asked her on accident if there were areas of Australia where they "grew wine". I was tired, alright?
-How I got dropped off in Dublin under a light drizzle, and how I bought a glorious cup of coffee to enjoy while I walked to the train station, and rode the train home.
-How I'm inspired to learn how to ride a bicycle this summer. There's a bay that the train goes by, and in the afternoon the water draws back so far that people go for walks on what is (in the morning) the ocean-floor. Today I saw a couple riding around on the wet sand on their bikes, and it got me thinking.
-How excited I am to see Kate, and how tired I am, and how lousy 5 AM is but how worth it it is going to be.

And how I really don't need to talk about any of that anymore - because next time I write, I'll have new stories to tell. And how nice that is.

Goodnight, folks. Be back in a week!

And I dreamed I was flyin'.

One more day to England! I spent today packing and getting all the random little last-minute details arranged for the upcoming week. Except they weren't really last-minute, and they won't be until this time tomorrow night... at which time, I'll probably be doing MORE last-minute things. But that's just how things roll. I'm preparing ahead of time though, and not stressing. I've spent days researching the places we're going, how to get there and what to see... but I know from experience that things never turn out how you plan them, especially in a foreign country. I also know that this is not a bad thing. So - as I said. Planning, but not stressing. :)

Tomorrow I'll be gone all day on the tour of Newgrange, but I should be back by dinner time. Then official packing, and one last night of good sleep before I meet Kate at the airport in London.

You've handled one Mueller alright, Europe. Let's see how you do with two.

By the by, I'm not bringing the computer along, as we'll be traveling light. So I might write tomorrow, but after that, you won't hear from me until Thursday next. Please pray that we'll be safe, and that my parents won't be out of their minds with worry. :)

Goodnight!

Some awfully good things.

Today was such a lovely day. I didn't have a plan, but I knew that I'm going out on Wednesday all day, and I knew that I'd have to spend tomorrow preparing for the next week (printing tickets, packing, etc.)... and I knew that I wanted to see Dublin again. One last solo-expedition. So I hopped on a train just before lunch time and was in the city by the time all the fellows in business suits were walking to their cafes of choice. (Side note, not sure if I mentioned this before... but wow. What a well-dressed city.) Every other time I've gone into Dublin, I've had a pretty good idea of where I wanted to go that particular afternoon - but today I decided to just wander around. My wandering is much more successful these days, since I now have a pretty good idea of where everything is - it's funny to think back to my first day, and how I got lost in Temple Bar. It's also funny thinking back to how overwhelming the city felt then. Certain areas, of course, are crazier than others, and the more touristy-places (as if there are un-touristy places... but you know what I mean) are much more hectic. The city kind of stressed me out the first few times, to be honest. But somehow while I was on the DART train heading towards the city center today, I had the distinct feeling that I was going "home" - all the old familiar places, and all that. I got off the train, ambled down the street and saw Oscar Wilde on his rock in Merrion Square Park, so I went there and sat for awhile. I'd packed more of my raisin-bread into my purse for the day, so I ate one slice there, and then another slice later in St. Stephen's Green. I know Joyce liked the Green better, but I think I like Merrion Square best. It's less crowded and touristy - at least for today, anyway, it seemed like the much more laid-back place to be. It fit well with my day.

I'm not really sure of the route I took today... I wasn't very conscious of where I was going for once. I know I was in Merrion Square, and then I went to the National Gallery again and spent some more time there... and then I sat under a tree in St. Stephen's, ate my bread and wrote for a bit. (Speaking of writing - I have my blank-page journal that I keep in my purse, and I often write in it when I'm sitting in scenic places. Yesterday while I was at the beach, I was writing in it and three youngish boys suddenly appeared around the corner. They stopped mid-joke and the first two skirted around me awkwardly as they continued on their way; the third boy said, "Hello!" and I said "Hello!" back. He stopped next to me and said, "You've got really nice writing." I said, "Really?!" And he said, "Mhm," and then he skipped off. For some reason it made me happy.) After St. Stephen's, I wandered the more populated parts of town and went into a bunch of different shops and bookstores. (I just can't walk past a bookstore. I don't even think about it - I see one, and I just turn and walk in automatically. It's like a disease.) I went into one particularly well-known one - "Hodges and Figgis" or something like that. It sounds like something out of Harry Potter. Anyway, unfortunately it was particularly pricey, too - even the so-called "bargain basement". But around that time it started raining, so I found a book of T.S. Eliot poetry and settled into a chair and read for awhile. When it stopped raining, I left the bookshop and bought a coffee from Starbucks (I caved... my first American-chain-purchase in Europe) and walked across the river to O'Connell Street. That area is always crowded, regardless of day or time, but the O'Connell Monument (which is a prime spot to sit and observe the city, if you can find an un-occupied step) was free - so I climbed up and sat down, and as I drank my coffee I composed a list of things I want to do when I get home. Not so much a list of things to "do", really, as a list of things to change. But anyway, that's really just for me to worry about.

Around 5 I headed back to the DART station (which I can now find without getting lost - huzzah!) and sat in an empty seat opposite a very small old woman. (And when I say "small", I mean slightly larger than a midget. Her umbrella was bigger than she was.) She struck up a conversation with me - first about the weather (typical), and then somehow we ended up talking about all of her past vacations with her son, who worked as a travel agent for years and has been to almost every country you can think of. She asked me if I've done much traveling yet, and I got the distinct feeling that she didn't realize I was American. Weird. She kept commenting on the fact that times have changed, because years ago, young people wouldn't go out on their own to travel. ("Don'tchew think at's true?" she kept saying.) Because, as she said, horrible things happen to people who travel on their own - especially girls. (At this point, I was praying she wouldn't ask me where my travel-companion was. I didn't want to worry her.) Then we talked about the Titanic; she'd seen a program last night and (since she seemed slightly disappointed that I hadn't seen it) she recounted to me a few stories of the good deeds that some people did the night it sank. And she said, "There are a lot of horrible things in the world, you know, but there are some awfully good things, too. Don'tchew agree?"

I'd gotten onto a train that only went part of the way on accident, so a few stops before my destination we all had to get off the train and wait on yet another platform in the rain. I said goodbye to my small friend and we parted ways; and I spent the next leg of the journey thinking about how all the horrible things in the world make the awfully good things stand out that much more.

I got home eventually. The whole afternoon there had only been a light drizzle if anything, but of course, during my 10 minute walk back the heavens opened. So I arrived in time for dinner, very wet and very hungry, and very happy. It was so nice to have a day with nothing planned, to do whatever I want. Of course, pretty much every day here is like that... so I don't know exactly why today was different. But it was nice.

Ray and Carole went out again tonight, so after dinner the boys and I watched "Totally Bonkers: Guinness World Records" until bedtime. After I read Mark his Bible story, we took turns praying - I love that kid's prayers. He always thanks God for the farmers that grew the food we ate for dinner. Tonight he said, "Thank you for the farmers who grew our dinner, and I pray that they had fun making it. And I pray for the people in Africa - help them to have a good sleep tonight, and to have fun tomorrow morning." I love that he prays for everyone to have fun. Why don't we think about that more often?

Wow, it's raining really hard right now - and the wind is really kicking up. Apparently they won't lay off until Wednesday or Thursday - which is lame, because I'm going on a tour on Wednesday and will be outside all day. Oh well. It'll be grand anyway. OH! You know what's really great?! Kate's on her way to Madrid :) She left this morning at 9, California time. Well, at least we hope she's on her way to Madrid... I think there may be some complication with a late flight, annnnd she might be trapped in New York... but we're hoping that's not the case. I can't believe I'll be seeing her so soon - only two whole days, and a few hours! And then nobody will have to ask where my travel-companion is, or worry that I'm traveling on my own... because I'll have another crazy Mueller girl beside me.

What an awfully good thing.

Recipe for a glorious Sunday afternoon:

-Winter weather (sunshiney but just a few degrees above freezing),
-A loaf of raisin bread in your purse, acquired from local bakery,
-A cozy rock in the sun on an Irish beach,
-Sailboats to watch while you eat.

The rocky road to Dublin

Well, we're back in Dublin n

OH! Titanic was sinking right now 100 years ago. Wow. Crazy.

... sorry. As I was saying, we're back in Dublin now. Apparently it's been raining here quite a lot, though it's only showered briefly a few times since we got back this afternoon. The next few days are supposed to be bad, which is massively unfortunate... because I wanted to go to Bray again and hang out at the beach and read. But that won't be fun if it's raining.... soooo yeah. Not sure what I'll do this week. At least not until Wednesday. Because Wednesday I go on a tour to Newgrange, and then THURSDAY I go to ENGLAND to meet up with KATE! WOOP! Please keep the two of us in your prayers for the next two weeks... we'll be striking out into the unknown, armed with... well, nothing. Google maps. heh heh. We'll survive. :) But yeah, if you think to, pray that no major problems will befall us along the way. I'm really looking forward to seeing her! Europe is so unprepared for the amazingness that is about to happen.

But yeah, I'm not sure what tomorrow, Monday, and Tuesday will hold. Ah well - we'll see.

I forgot to write yesterday, but it's probably just as well, because nothing really happened. It rained most of the day, at least until the late afternoon. I spent the day going back and forth between researching college things and researching Europe things. I bought our train tickets from Calais to Paris, though! So that's one less thing to worry about doing. I think I've bought most everything now - it's just a matter of printing out a ton of online tickets. Anyway, around 4 or 5 yesterday, the sky cleared up so I went out for a walk. I came back and we had dinner. While Ray and Carole were putting the boys to bed, I looked out and saw that the sunset was incredible, so I threw on a few coats and ran out to watch it from the beach. It was a fitting farewell to Donegal. Those two weeks really flew - which is so weird. There were times when I got bored here in DUBLIN COUNTY... but the time flew while I was in Donegal (where I spent most of the time inside, due to bad weather). I guess it was just the atmosphere. Everyone was so relaxed and the people I met were so lovely and caring, and the scenery (even out the windows) was just amazing. That must have had something to do with it. I hope that wasn't my last time up there. If I ever get enough money for a second home, I am going to build a house up there (it could be a one-room shack, for all I care, as long as it's got a good view) and WRITE.

Anyway, so we left there this morning, which was sad. We got home in about 4 hours, and I've spent literally 6 hours staring at maps of Paris and London. But I'm actually fairly proud of myself for it, because I feel much less stressed about the crazy public transport systems in those cities than I did earlier.

But I'm getting a tired-induced headache, so I'm going to go to sleep. Church in the morning. Shoot... clean clothes...

Hey, guess what? I won't be staying anywhere for more than four days from here on out. 4 days in Dublin, 2.5 days in London, 1.5 days in Dover, 4 days in Paris, 1 night in Dublin, 2 days in Cork, 3 days in Dublin, and SUMMER IN CALIFORNIA.

Goodnight. :)

My Kind of Town

Wow. Today was quite an adventure. All day long I kept thinking of little things that I wanted to remember, but I didn't write them down so guess what? I forgot. But I will do my best.

First of all, before I go off onto any accounts of Derry, I want to announce this: I've decided on a college. Wheaton it is! There were many contributing factors to this, but the most notable one is that while both schools have really good English programs, Wheaton is the one with a Creative Writing concentration. Hillsdale doesn't do that at all, which has always been a bit of a concern to me. I just really liked the idea of Hillsdale better, I think - but when it comes down to it, I am about creative writing, not about politics or journalism. Also, Wheaton offered me a surprisingly good financial aid package. And even though this wasn't a make-or-break factor, obviously, the fact that it's a Christian school is a really nice thing. So here we are. I accepted their offer and it's official! It was a tough decision, but I feel good about it. Come August, I am Chicago-bound.

Well then there now. I woke up at 7 and Ray and I were gone by half past 8. He dropped me off outside of the walls of Derry an hour later, and picked me up there at 5. So I had about 7 1/2 hours to wander around on my own. It was a long day, I'm not gonna lie - there's only so much you can see for free. (Now, disclaimer, I'd have spent money if I'd come across something that I couldn't have lived without. But I do try to be careful about how easily I define that standard when I'm out.) Anyway - if you're not familiar with Derry-Londonderry, you should look it up; the history of that city is incredible. It's Ireland's only complete walled city left - meaning that there is a huge wall that goes around the city in a complete circle, and the only way to get in it by entering at one of the four main gates. Most of its fame came from the Siege of Derry in the 1600's, when James II and William of Orange were duking it out for the throne of England. There are too many interesting facts about all of that for me to write here - but look it up, if that sort of thing interests you. Battalions, cannons (Roaring Meg, anyone?), the Apprentice Boys (Derry-ians are OBSESSED with those fellows)... it's all there. Also, since it's on the border of Ireland and Northern Ireland (the city is literally split by a river - the Protestant half on one side, the Catholic half on the other), it was an incredibly important and dramatic place during the Troubles. Ray and I talked about the Nationalists vs. the Loyalists for the entire car-ride up there - I learned so much! After a month and a half of living with the Irish and talking with them about the Troubles when I felt brave enough to bring it up, I finally feel like I have an accurate and un-biased knowledge of what's been happening here for the last hundred years. Obviously nobody can ever know the whole story, and there's no easy "cause" or first offense to point at - there's been so much wrong on both sides. But I understand it much better than I did before - definitely (and I don't say this to brag) better than most Americans my age, anyway.

Apparently you can walk around the entire circuit of the walls in less than an hour, if you don't stop to read any of the plaques along the way. But I read them. I also went down every staircase leading to the inner-city streets that I came to, and followed every rabbit-trail I fancied following, before heading back up to the top of the walls again. Oh! Fascinating fact: the walls of Derry have been closed to the public for decades, since the city saw so much violence during the Troubles and the British army didn't want any Nationalist snipers being able to use the built in vantage-points above the city. It's only in the past ten years or so that the walls were opened to the public again. Most natives of Ireland, unless they live close to the city, have never been up there. Anyway - so I spent a few hours doing that, and eventually I had walked pretty much every street in the city. By then I still had more than five hours, so I left through one of the riverside gates and headed toward the Peace Bridge. (Only built in 2011, I think. It was apparently built to show the good will of both sides and the hope for unity to increase. Because although the Troubles are officially over, obviously there is still tension in some circles.) So the Bridge crosses over the River Foyle, in all its shiny white glory. I walked across, strolled down the banks on the other side, walked up to an observation deck to take some pictures (and offered to take a family photo for a nearby family, only to be turned down because apparently they live there or something... psh.), and then walked back across. Except on my way back across, I stopped at the bench that is exactly halfway in the middle, pulled out Breakfast at Tiffany's (which I haven't really touched since I started it by the Shannon in Limerick) and read the last half above the Foyle. There was an old man down the bench from me, and the whole time I was reading, he just stared out in front of him. The whole time I was really impressed at his ability to think such deep, encompassing thoughts - but when I stood up to leave, I realized that he'd been sleeping. I'm not sure if that's more impressive or not.

I walked back to the city, climbed back up to the wall, and walked around once again. I also ate my lunch by the cannons - the rest of the walnuts from home, and an apple I'd brought along. (Again, if I'd been starving, I would have bought food. But oh well. Call it training for our upcoming vagabond days in some of Europe's most expensive cities. I will say that I ate that apple to within an inch of its life, though.) Then I went into the Cathedral. I hadn't gone in earlier because the weather was so GORGEOUS today while I was out, and I was afraid that it wouldn't last - so I figured if it started raining, I would just pop into the church. But as it turned out, the sky was blue and clear pretty much all day - it was glorious. Anyway, so I went into the Cathedral then, which was cool but not the greatest I've seen. I'm also tired of going into places with a "suggested donation" instead of a fee. Seriously, people - it's not a suggestion, and it's not a donation. You rob us in the name of our good will. But aaaaanyway - they did have a cool museum attached to the Cathedral, and in one of the cases, they had the four locks and keys that the Apprentice Boys used to shut the gates against King James II. (He wanted to replace his formerly-Protestant garrisons with Catholic ones, as I understand it. The afore-mentioned Protestants feared that he planned to then massacre all the Protestants in the city, and they didn't want to be replaced, anyhow. So while everyone was arguing about what to do, 13 Apprentice Boys took the matter into their own hands, and locked down the city - an act of open defiance which began the 105-day siege.)

Oh, also, apparently the fellow who wrote "Amazing Grace" became a Christian while his ship was off the coast of Donegal (Agnes told me that), and for awhile after that, his ship was harbored in Derry's harbor. He prayed in St. Columba's Cathedral twice daily until it was ready to set sail again. Also, Cecil Alexander (writer of the hymns "One in Royal David's City", "There is a Green Hill Far Away", and "All Things Bright and Beautiful" - not really any of my favorites, but there you have it) went to that church. Or something... there's some connection between her and the Cathedral. OH, I think her husband was the Bishop. hmm, I should know that... anyway, apparently the "green hill" that inspired her to write that song was the hill across Bogside - which is clearly visible from the walls and is now a huge cemetery. She and her husband are buried there. Knowing the history of Derry, it was especially poignant to read the words of her hymn:

"There is a green hill, far away,
Outside a city wall,
Where the dear Lord was crucified
Who died to save us all."

It must have felt incredibly lonely, at times, to live in a city so literally locked into its own turmoil. I can just imagine sitting by the windows of St. Columba's, looking at the greenery of the hill and wishing that I was free.

In fact I could imagine it so well that I decided to walk there. I had about two hours, anyway. So I left the city again, this time by the opposite gate, and walked across the rather dilapidated town on the Bogside - referred to in places as "Free Derry." Kind of a sketchy area, really. Especially because once I got there, there was no clear way up to the hill with the cemetery - so I spent quite a while wandering around the streets there. Although I did have an interesting encounter with three little girls while I was wandering. I was walking up a street (I think by then I was on the right track), and all the sudden I heard a kid yell, "Air-yew Spanish?!"
I looked around and saw three little girls across the street from me. "Air-yew Spanish?!" They yelled again.
"Me? No..."
They ran across the street to me. "Where are you from?"
Me: "I'm from America."
Girls 3: "You don't sound American."
Girl 1: "How do you say 'three' in American?"
Me: "Um... 'three'."
Girl 1: "How do you say 'Anna' in American?"
Girl 2: "What's your name?"
Me: "Laura."
Girl 3: "You sound like us."
Girl 1: "Where are your friends?"
Me: "In America."
Girl 2: "You came by yourself?"
Me: "I did, yes."
Girl 1: "I wouldn't have come by myself. Did you come on a plane?"
Me: "Yup. You can't drive across the ocean."
Girl 1: "What?!"
Me: "I tried but they wouldn't let me."
Girl 3: "Do you have a car?!"
Me: "I do, but it's not here."
Girl 1: "Where is it?"
Me: "In America."
Girl 2: "Do you drive here?"
Me: "Not here, no. Because here you drive on the wr - the opposite side of the road, and I'd probably get in a crash."

Here they all started asking me questions at the same time and I couldn't understand them - and then, as quickly as they'd come, they said goodbye and ran across the street and disappeared into a house. Take from that what you will.

Eventually I got up to the cemetery, and I walked around there for about an hour. It's pretty much across a big valley/town/bog from the City Walls, and it's got a fairly good elevation from the top, so there was a lovely view around me. Also, some of the tombstones were really old, so that was interesting. One of the things I've noticed about Irish gravestones, though, is that they're almost always really sad. Most (not all, but most) epitaphs in America would tend to be a bit more hopeful - maybe because our culture is so uncomfortable with death in general, so we try to sugar-coat it. But these ones are just so... hopeless. It was actually really depressing.

Anyway, I walked back and got to the Tourist Info Center in plenty of time for Ray to meet me. We talked more history and politics and family stories, and got home in time for dinner and another game of Clue. I like these evenings in. Well my goodness - I think this may be my longest post. I've been writing on and off for almost two hours. I was going to try to upload pictures tonight, but it's almost midnight and I'm a bit tired... so maybe tomorrow. Aaron took his clock back, so hopefully I won't sleep all day.

By the way, the sunset tonight was GORGEOUS. I'm content. Things are good.

Kidney makes the absence fonder.

It's after midnight here, and I have my alarm clock set for 7 tomorrow morning. Actually it's Aaron's alarm clock... mine died. (So Dad... in case I forget to ask, can Kate bring yours?) Ray is going to Belfast tomorrow for a meeting, but he'll only be there for about an hour - so he offered to drop me off in Derry (or Londonderry, depending on which side of the Foyle you're on), which is on the way. So I'll be there for a good five hours, at least. I don't really have a plan, but I'll figure it out. I could do with a day trip. Although, it IS too bad that it had to be on my last "free" day in Donegal... we're spending Friday cleaning, and it would've been nice to spend a day in the sitting room (which nobody uses), reading next to the huge wall-sized window. Ah well. I won't complain. :)

I wasn't too productive today - I did some writing, and some cleaning, but mostly I slept, due to my stupid dead alarm clock. We had dinner at Carole's parents house and spent most of the evening there. I really do love those people - it's ridiculous how wonderful they are. I sat next to Carole's mother (Agnes is her name) at the table. and during every conversation, she would elbow me and whisper some hilariously snarky or sweet aside about whatever had just been said. And Eric, her husband, is an amazing chef who doesn't take "I'm fine, thanks" for an answer - which I love. On Sunday he had asked if we'd like to have kidney for dinner this week, so I went there tonight expecting the worst - but I was pleasantly surprised. Not because I realized that I liked kidney, but because we didn't have it. We had "steak pie", which was pretty much what it sounds like - a pastry crust stuffed with steak. It was really good, too! (At first I thought it was kidney pie, because I was still suspicious. But it was just your normal, juicy, shredded steak.) We came back, I had some tea and wrote some more, and somehow now it's almost 1 o'clock. WHAT. Ugh. Why do I stay up when I don't need to?

I'm going to think about that question while I turn off the computer, lean back on my pillow and close my eyes.

P.S. I'm leaving for England a week from tomorrow!

Rain clouds

Yet another day of sunshine between heavy showers. Right now the sky is a deep blue and the sun has been down for almost a half hour, but there's still light showing through the remaining clouds. The colors and deepness of it all make for quite a nice contrast. I've become quite an expert at watching the weather change from my window - and while it changes, I sit here on the floor, writing.

Actually, I haven't done so much writing today. I spent the majority of the afternoon booking bus tickets, and then talking to my bank on skype (and the phone, with my mom as the middleman, since I couldn't get a hold of them from here) because they detected "fraudulent activity" and froze my account. I'm glad they're doing their job to protect my money and all, but it sure is a pain to try and convince them that I'm me, and not some European fraud running amuck with Laura Mueller's credit card.

We played a game of Clue after dinner, and then a round of Trivial Pursuit. Except it was a European T.P., which means that they were all questions about European monarchy and history and geography and pop culture. The history was alright, but I failed at the rest. I think we'll stick with Clue in future evenings.

Oh, and yesterday while I was on my walk, I very literally was almost attacked by a herd of sheep. And then some goats, later on. It would have been hilarious, if it hadn't been so terrifying. Of course, it's hilarious now. (But you won't catch me walking that way again.)

In other news, I'm tired. I don't mean that I need to sleep - I mean that I'm tired. Tired of being tough, and of making decisions, and even of being independent, to an extent. I've spent hours (probably days) planning things, and there's still so much that I don't know. Not just about Europe, I mean everything. I have to make a decision about college this week - and even though I feel like I've subconsciously decided already, I'm still terrified of saying an absolute one way or the other. I'm also frustrated that people I love are having hard times with things at home, and I can't do anything about it. They write to me for advice and comfort, which I'm usually happy to try to give... but after awhile, I just run dry. And there's nobody here for me to go to, when I need advice and comfort. Now, obviously when I'm thinking about it clearly, I know that God is here for me, and for them, and that He's better at sorting out problems than any of us. I know that; but what can I say, sometimes I'm not good at thinking about things clearly. I'm much better at it today than I was yesterday, though - last night was not so good. But anyway. I don't really know why I went into all of that. The bottom line is still that I'm glad that God looks after us, even when we're stupid and try to fix the world by ourselves.

It's a quarter to nine and almost dark. More rain clouds are coming in... maybe we'll get more hail tonight. Today we had little hailstones the size of peas!

Goodnight, folks.

But I've begun to trust the view here.

Yesterday was a good day, too. Happy belated Easter! All day I was thinking about our church services in years past, and one year in particular - I think it was last year. There were a lot of new people in church that day who didn't know that when Dad said "Christos anesti!", we were supposed to respond with "Altheo anesti!", so he was trying to explain it to them at the beginning of the service. Except Mom kept saying the response too early, and it made me and Kate crack up all kinds. Anyway, that was one of my happy thoughts yesterday, and it made me snicker.

It was a nice slow morning, and at a quarter to twelve we drove down the road for church. There were twice as many people there yesterday as there were last week, but nobody stuck around to chat after the service - we all went off to prepare/eat our Easter lunches. Carole's parents, who attend the Anglican church up in Letterkenny, came over and had lunch with us, and I pretty much fell in love with them. Well, I've met her dad - he's come over a few times to bring us cakes and things. (Another reason he's a wonderful person.) But the two of them together are just fantastic. I think Donegal produces the nicest people in Europe. Anyway, so we ate lunch - a wonderful combination of vegetables, potatoes, turkey, cranberry sauce, and THREE KINDS OF CAKES - and then sat in the living room with a roaring fire and talked all afternoon. These fireside chats are always interesting here; they range from politics to geography facts and transportation and history and weather and World War II. Seriously, wherever I go, those seem to be the topics. It's been interesting hearing about the War from so many perspectives - and it's especially interesting that it's still such a topic of conversation here. I've heard such different opinions and surprising facts; sometimes I feel immensely proud of being an American because we "won the war for them, if we're being honest" (according to Carole's mom), and sometimes I feel incredibly presumptuous about it and embarrassed by the fact that we came in so late and then took all the credit (according to her dad). And then I'm struck by how strongly these topics still make people feel - even those of us who weren't born yet. History is an incredible thing.

We went to evening service at 7, and afterwards there was a fellowship time with a ton of sandwiches and cakes and "biscuits" and tea... so we had even MORE wonderful things. We got spoiled on desserts yesterday. When we got back, I went to my room and skyped with my family while they prepared their own Easter lunch. When the camera popped on, I was surprised to be met by Ami's face - Mom set it up for her, and all the rest of the family came and went every few minutes to pop in and say hi, but Ami stayed there with the laptop in front of her for an hour and a half, talking to me. When I saw her first, I smiled all hugely and told her hello; she took one look at my face on the screen and started crying, which concerned me for a minute. Then she said, "It's so good to see you." and I got it. I don't think I'd thought about being that missed for awhile; which is really selfish of me, I guess. Then I remembered how sad she'd been when I left her in her room that day I came to say goodbye. Of course it's a hard thing, watching your granddaughter go off thousands of miles, the way you used to. All the sudden I even missed sitting on her bed with her, watching TV or looking at pictures or talking and toasting each other with water bottles - we'd tap them together and say "clink". I know she'll want to hear stories when I come back, but it's always been more interesting listening to hers.

Anyway. It's almost 3 in the afternoon here, and it's been raining most of the day. It comes and goes in big old cloud bursts, though, so I think the next time it holds off for a bit, I'll go outside and see about a long walk. I plan on getting very wet throughout the afternoon. And then I'll come back and try to write - I think I came up with an idea for a story yesterday. We'll see, though.

Oh, you know what else is good? 10 days and I'll be hugging Kate in London. WOOP. And you know what's crazy? After this week, I won't be staying more than 4 days in any one place until I come home. That's really strange to me. Not scary, just strange. Exciting, too. There are so many places to be seen!

So raise a glass to turnings of the season!

Today really was a lovely day.

I've spent one other birthday away from home that I can remember. It was my eighth, I think, and I was attending Morgan Creek Christian Academy (which is since then extinct). Actually it may have been my ninth, because I don't think I was actually still GOING to school there - I think we just went there to pick up Kate that day. I remember because I wasn't wearing my uniform, which I would have been if I was still a student there - I was wearing some shirt with a pair of velvet pants. That's right. Velvet pants. I remember that because I was playing on the jungle-gym above the sandbox, and I was very concerned about sand getting on the velvet. Odd, the things you remember. Anyway, somehow Kate and I spent that night at Ami and Papa's in Ontario - not sure how we got there, and I'm not sure why we spent the night THERE. My parents must have been gone someplace. I do remember, however, that I wanted to cry all night. I've always loved my grandparents and I always loved being at their house - but it was my birthday, and I wanted to be home. I think I may have convinced Kate to let me sleep in her bed with her, so that I wouldn't feel so alone.

Now, I've grown up quite a bit since then - and even now that I'm directly across the world (as opposed to just two hours away) from my family, I've been nowhere near that depressed and homesick on my birthday today. But I'd be a liar if I said that I didn't miss them today, especially.

My birthday really started last night at 11 o'clock - I skyped Dad (who had to leave after a few minutes to prepare a sermon) and Mom and Kate, so that they'd be "with" me when my real birthday rolled around. We talked for an hour, and at midnight Mom and Kate sang Happy Birthday to me and Mom (in accordance with tradition) told me about the day that I was born. I then opened the package that I received from home a few days ago - oh, my family knows me. They somehow crammed walnuts, almonds, sour straws, and big bar of chocolate into a little box, along with a card from Dad and Mom and a BIRTHDAY BANNER. We have a tradition in our house - if it's somebody's birthday, the rest of us get together and make them a special birthday sign to greet them downstairs on the morning of their birthday. These have evolved to extremes throughout the years and we've turned out some masterpieces. But this one was definitely one of the most creative. Since a regular sign wouldn't fit in the box, they cut up 5'x7" pieces of paper and glued photos of each person to one, and strung them together with yarn (so that it can fit nicely in a little stack of paper, when it's folded). Each family member posed for the camera with a message written for me on their hands. It is now hanging across my window, strung up on the curtain rod. I didn't think about it last night when I hung it there, but now the neon pieces of paper in my window are the first thing you see when you turn onto their driveway from the road. :)

When I went out into the kitchen this morning, I was half expecting a ton of "Happy Birthday!"'s to greet me, like it would have in my house. I'd already received quite a few birthday greetings on Facebook, so I guess I felt like everybody should be aware. But it seemed like the family had kind of forgotten - and I didn't feel like reminding them, because that's kind of weird. So I ate breakfast while Carole packed lunches for our approaching day-trip; but after a few minutes of feeling a little lonesome and forgotten, Aaron came up to me and handed me a folded piece of paper. "This is for you." He then retreated, as if embarrassed. They'd made me a card! It was made on the computer, with a border of tiny birthday cakes surrounding a four-leaf clover and the words "Happy Birthday" on the cover. On the inside it said "Dear Laura, Happy 19th Birthday!" and they'd all signed their names. That made me feel pretty special.

So we headed out at around 10, and 2 hours later we were in Northern Ireland, on the top of a very gray, wet and rainy hill by the sea. I wish I could remember some of the funny things the boys said along the way - we had a few rather interesting conversations... but I can't remember right now. I do remember that at one point, Mark started getting bored and a bit whiny, so I started a game of I-Spy (which I loathe, but they seem to love), and that kept us all busy for far too long. I have to say, I feel a little magic when I do something right with those boys - I think it's the I've-always-wanted-to-be-a-big-sister-but-never-was syndrome. Unfortunately the weather at the Giant's Causeway was a bit reminiscent of my Cliffs of Moher experience, but that was alright. It was GORGEOUS out there regardless. And it wasn't that cold, once we got down from the hilltop. You park at the top, and then follow a long trail down the hill and along the coast for a bit. You turn around another big hill, and then you see it - all those huge basalt columns rising up in clusters along the seafront. I had no idea what it would be like there, really - I've seen close-up pictures of the hexagonal rocks, but never seen them in their context. It was amazing! I wish my pictures had done it justice, but my camera doesn't like fog. And it was a bit misty... not to mention wet. My hair got drenched again. Also, mascara everywhere. But who cares? I was so happy to be there; it really is an incredible place.

After our initial exploration of the causeway stones themselves, we wandered around and went up some trails along the hills and the beach. The boys and I had a grand old time exploring, but after an hour or two we were all drenched and cold, so we hopped back in the car and drove back - after stopping at McDonalds for some coffee.

The thing that really got me happened after dinner. The fact that today is my birthday really wasn't a big deal all day, aside from getting a card from the family at breakfast, and I'd kind of put it in the back of my mind. Actually I was thinking about college during dinner - OH, hey! Wheaton accepted me too! I just found that out last night. So now I have to choose - ugh. Decisions. Anyway, that's what I was thinking about while everyone was finishing dinner. I was staring out the window, and Carole got up to get a glass of water. All the sudden they all started singing Happy Birthday, and Carole came around the corner with a big old cake - a tea-candle sitting, proudly and precariously, on top. Thinking back on it, I probably looked really stupid, because it took me by such surprise that I think I forgot to smile for awhile... but it really did make me so happy. I just always feel awkward when people are so thoughtful - things like that make me so happy that I don't know what to do with it, and I always end up feeling like I didn't respond correctly. Anyway, it was a fabulous cake - coffee-flavored sponge cake, with coffee-flavored icing and walnuts on top. They know me. :) We all played Clue for about an hour, and after the boys went to bed, Ray and Carole and I watched some golf and CSI for awhile. And then I came into my room to respond to birthday notes.

My parents wrote me a note last night that made me laugh and cry alternatively the whole time I read it. It was a collection of memories - Mom kept a journal of funny or sweet things that happened while we were all little, and I guess that yesterday the family was going through them and reading about baby-me. It was pretty great; and I'm pretty proud to be a Mueller.

OH! Also, I got a note from my mime team. Whenever it's somebody's birthday, we all sign a card for them - and apparently at Monday's meeting, they all signed one for me. Emily scanned it and sent it to me. That was another one of those things that I didn't know what to do with, other than grin at it for a long while and feel incredibly humbled and loved.

I'm getting to be quite familiar with those feelings... but I still don't really know how to handle them. Ah well. All part of growing up, I guess. Maybe the whole point of being humbled and loved is to recognize that Life is so much bigger than you are.

So here we are, 19. I'm game if you are.

Actively reading, cooking, and aging.

I'd planned to go out for a long walk around the bay today, but the weather had other plans - it rained all day long. But I actually had a fairly productive day! I booked a hotel for me and Kate in London, spent hours staring at train schedules and have pretty much figured out what to do with the Calais-Paris ride, booked the bus to and from the Dublin Airport, wrote a few emails about college things... OH! I booked a tour for Newgrange, on the day before I leave for England. Annnnnnd I'm going to see a play at the Abbey Theater, sometime. It's a musical - "Alice in Funderland" - about a modern day Alice in Wonderland, set in the streets of Dublin. I feel pretty pro-active.

But by far my biggest achievement of the day was tonight's dinner. I spent about an hour on it, in all - with the boys camped out at the counter, watching me every step of the way. (Which was actually quite terrible. Do you know how judgmental a ten year old and a seven year old can be?!) But I conquered. Man, I owned that chicken carbonara. It was a bit of a depressing shock to discover that Carole doesn't cook with spices or herbs, so my original plan for the chicken wasn't going to work. But I acquired some garlic, and worked my magic with that. Between the garlic and olive oil, the chicken fried up quite nicely while I let the spaghetti cook. When the noodles finished, I tossed them into the wok with the chicken (and more garlic, salt, pepper and oil) and cooked it all together for a bit. Meanwhile I heated up the sauce, which (surprisingly and wonderfully) had bacon pieces included! I had to add some milk to the sauce to stretch it a bit, but it was still very flavorful. I also boiled some broccoli, and finely shredded some Parmesan cheese to sprinkle on top of it all. It all finished about the same time, miraculously, and the final product was amazing. I'd accidentally cooked twice as much spaghetti as Carole had suggested (cooking for Muellers is much different than cooking for Speers, we'll just say that), so I had an extra pot of spaghetti noodles on the stove while we all ate our first plates. But apparently everybody liked it, and was hungry to boot, because we all had seconds and by the end of dinner, there was only a small tupperware full of leftover pasta.

And they all LIKED it. That's what was scaring me, because the boys are very blunt about what they do and don't like, even with Carole's fabulous meals. I was terrified that they'd hate it. But every few minutes one of them would say, "It's quite good, you know!" and the other one would try to think of what it tasted like. First of all, it was, "It smells a bit like carbonara sauce!" I'd say, "Well that's good, because that's what it is." Eventually they seemed to understand that that's what it really was, and stopped comparing it to other sauces. The one that cracked me up was when Aaron said, "It's like... like a really adventurous carbonara!" I asked him if that was a good thing, just to make sure - between mouthfuls, he assured me that it was.

I'm pretty proud of myself.

Anyway. The plan is still to go to Giant's Causeway tomorrow, although the weather isn't supposed to be too great. Which is so lame. Why is it that it's beautiful all the time, EXCEPT when I go to breath-taking places where you NEED a clear day, like the Cliffs of Moher? I mean really, Ireland. Get your act together.

Also, I had a bit of a surprise this afternoon - I've known all week that Sunday is Easter, but somehow I didn't put 2 and 2 together and figure out that today is Good Friday. The church up here doesn't have a service, which actually made me sad. I would have liked to be in a church tonight... I wish I could be at our church, listening to the whole book of Mark being read. We did that a couple years ago, too, and I remember really liking it. It's so much better to read a whole book at once and get the whole context. I read a few chapters of John this afternoon, before I started on dinner - I started with chapter 14 and read through to the burial of Jesus. Not very much, I know, but I felt like it was a good-enough sized passage to think about for a day. There's so much there.

I'm going to skype my family in a few hours - I won't quite be talking to them at midnight, but it'll be close enough. I'm going to be nineteen in a few hours. That in itself doesn't seem so weird, but you know what DOES? Next year, I'll be twenty. I actually can't stand the sound of that. I never imagined myself getting that far, I think. Twenty. Sheesh. That's two decades, and there are so many things I haven't done yet. I'd better get cracking! ...well. I guess going to Europe by myself is a good start.

Oh, also, I burned my hand pretty badly while I was cooking dinner and it really hurts. Ugh.

Well, I'm gonna go make some coffee and watch The Mentalist. We only have instant coffee here, bleh. But the other day while I was out shopping, I bought my own brand - I got instant coffee because it was cheaper and more convenient than coffee grounds, since we don't have a coffee-maker here. And surprisingly, the brand I got isn't half bad. In any case, it's much better than Ray's nescafe, which is the other option. I'll be glad to get back to coffee-makers, though.

So long, 18. It's been fun.

Ask me to cook a dinner, and I don't fool around.

Not too terribly much to report today. I spent the morning going back and forth between hanging out in my room, and hanging out with whatever kids and cousins happened to be in the living room at the time. It hasn't rained today, but the sky's been threatening all afternoon. Just as I was about to go out on a walk, Carole asked if I could help with some cleaning - so the four of us (Carole, me and the boys) spent the afternoon cleaning all of the wood in the house. Apparently she was inspired by my handiwork in Dublin. And heavens, there's a lot of wood in this house. At 4:30, Carole drove me into Kerrykeel (literally five minutes down the road, and I would have walked except I had to go for groceries... and I didn't want to walk back with a bag full of raw chicken) and dropped me off in front of the grocery store. I got broccoli and 5 chicken breasts - still looking for garlic bread. I feel like I've got to make this perfect; obviously, because I've spent two days in grocery stores. Which I actually have loved, surprisingly. Y'know, that was my first time going to the butcher's - he was a nice fellow, and when I found him he had just removed a frozen and bloodied pig carcass from the freezer and slammed it onto the table. Thankfully he was a bit more respectful towards my chicken - he even asked how I wanted it cut up. It's funny, everyone asks me if I'm on holiday, and I can't help wondering if they think that my cold-influenced voice is simply part of my accent. I hope not.

We're heading off to Ray's brother's house in a bit for dinner, and he's ordering us pizza from Domino's. I like this fellow already.

Also, I've been doing quite a bit of ticket-reserving for the England trip. I have a travel itinerary that I've been keeping, and it's wonderful to be able to write "Booked!" next to the to-do items on the list.

I wish I could be doing some good writing up here, but I'm sort of dry on ideas. It's terrible. It's so beautiful all around me, and every time I step outside, my head is full of words and phrases with what feels like ten tons of potential. But as soon as I come inside to write, the ideas have flown away. And it's too cold to write outside. sigh. I guess we all have our little problems, don't we?

White Horses

Hello! Just when I was getting proud of myself for writing so regularly, I go and skip two days. Woops. Well, in all fairness, they were pretty fair days to skip - I didn't do much. Yesterday I stayed in my room, pretty much all day long, sitting here on the floor so that I can look out over the bay, writing. This is my writing position - I sat, like I'm sitting now, on the floor and leaned against my bed, with my elbow on my knee and the laptop on the nightstand. I switch elbows or knees every once in a while, to throw a little variation in (also to switch which side is holding my weight...), but that's pretty much how I'm positioned most of the time now. The view from here isn't as spectacular as it is from the dining room or the sitting room, but I can still see a good bit of the bay, and the sky is fascinating to watch. Yesterday, especially - you know how the Irish say they get all four seasons in a day? So far it's just been a funny sort of overstatement that could be mildly true on most days. Yesterday it was an absolute fact. We had sun, clouds, lashing rain, drizzling rain, hail, and SNOW - all interchangeably coming every ten minutes or so. Sadly the snow melted as soon as it touched ground - but it was crazy to look out, three or four times, and see that the sky was white with snowflakes. The bay, too, which is usually so calm, was turbulent and there were white-tipped waves splashing up onto the shore. The Irish call white caps "White Horses", which I think is great. Today was still a bit breezy, and every time I looked out I imagined that I could see white horses on the water, galloping away from me.

I guess living with an Irish family is rubbing off on me... I just wrote about the weather for a paragraph.

Ray and Carole went out to see a movie on Monday night, as I said, so I watched the boys in the evening. We continued our game of Monopoly and didn't finish even then - so it's still looming over us, waiting to bankrupt me and Mark at any moment. I hear Aaron has only lost one game in his whole life. I always hated Monopoly and games of that sort, because I've NEVER managed to find the secret to success in them. I think you just have to love money enough to figure out a way to keep it, and apparently the love is just not in me. I do like my little figurine, the top hat, though. Maybe that's my problem... I'm more interested in small silver items than plastic houses and colored paper. Anyway, after the game I said goodnight to Aaron and tucked Mark in again, and read him a Bible story. Apparently he forgot to bring Giraffe (his stuffed giraffe that he sleeps with every night) with him from Dublin, so he now sleeps with a surrogate Giraffe - a long-necked dinosaur. He seems not to mind so much now.

Yesterday, as I said, was spent writing. Although I did go out for awhile after dinner... a tractor-full of chopped logs came on Monday night, and we had to move them up to the patio above the garage. So last night after dinner, the five of us went outside and worked for awhile. Carole and Aaron stayed at the top and neatly stacked the logs they received up there, Mark and I were stationed at the bottom of the stairs where we threw the logs into the wheelbarrow, and Ray carted the wheelbarrow up and down the stairs with each "shipment". We only worked for about 40 minutes, but we got a lot done. Ray, Carole and I finished it up tonight - Carole remarked afterward that there must have been fewer logs this year, because it seemed to go much more quickly. Ray nodded to me and said, "I think Laura was the difference." And I must admit I beamed smugly for a few minutes.

Today after lunch, Carole dropped me off in Letterkenny, which is apparently Donegal's "big town". hahahaha. I don't laugh to make fun of it or anything - I really enjoyed spending the afternoon there. But with a title like "Donegal's big town", I guess I was expecting something a bit... well, bigger. To be fair, I only walked Main Street, but Carole drove me around to see the rest and I've seen quarters of Ventura that span more ground. (Probably shopping centers that span more ground...) Anyway, I actually enjoyed the fact that it was quainter than I'd expected - it made it much more interesting. She dropped me off at a Tesco shopping center (Europe's Costco), and I spent quite a while looking into all the shops around Tesco, and I probably spent about an hour in Tesco itself. I've volunteered to make dinner on Friday night, y'see, so I did quite a bit of grocery shopping while I was there. And for some reason it was really exciting to me! (Does this mean I'm growing up?) Really, I felt like such a grown-up little domestic, walking around the aisles, comparing prices, checking out ingredients for the white sauces, looking for what flavors would go together best and such. Also, I bought chocolate and some chips to sate my late-night hunger crises. That was a little less grown-up of me, I guess... ah well. Can't be helped. Sometimes you just have to have some chocolate.

Suddenly I had about 45 minutes before I'd agreed to meet Carole back at Tesco, and I hadn't even LEFT it yet. So I took a very quick walk up to Main Street and walked about halfway through it. I went into a very few shops, saw some nice things. I'm well on my way to having nearly enough souvenirs to bring back to family members, but I've still got a few to go. I've agreed (with myself) not to buy things just for the sake of HAVING something to bring back, though, so it's taking some time. Towards the top of the hill I saw a small street that led up to a roman catholic cathedral, so I followed the path and ran up to see it. By then I had about five minutes to get back, so I booked it across town and met Carole promptly at 4:45. We picked up the boys from her sisters house, plus one (their cousin Lee, who, when I introduced myself, declared, "What a cool American accent!" and hasn't stopped asking me questions about America since). We had dinner, finished the logs, and that pretty much brings us up to date.

Tomorrow I'll either go into the small town down the road and get a few more groceries for Friday's dinner (chicken breasts, garlic bread and broccoli - I've already got the spaghetti and carbonara sauce), or else just walk further down the bay. I don't think I mentioned this, but on Monday afternoon that's what I did - for almost an hour I walked along the "beach". Turns out there IS a path, of sorts, that goes at least part way around the bay... you just kind of have to walk around peoples fences, but I guess they're okay with that. So long as you don't steal any sheep that you pass along the way. But I didn't go far on Monday, because I didn't know it was okay to go past fences... so tomorrow should carry me further, one way or another.

OH! Guess what? We're going to the Giant's Causeway on Saturday! Talk about a good way to spend a birthday. :)

How is it already 9:30? Honestly, I don't know where my days are going. I think it's time for more chocolate. S'long, folks. :)

Only in Ireland...

would you find a Lego set game called "Shave a Sheep", or pass by a field full of tractors and discover it to be a plowing competition.

A day in Donegal

Woops - I slipped up yesterday and forgot to write. Shame. But I've been doing well so far, I think - considering how irregular I usually am at keeping a blog. You know what's crazy? Tomorrow (Tuesday) marks my halfway point. 29 days down, 29 days to go - not counting Tuesday, that is. I have the distinct feeling that this second half will really fly by, which makes me kind of sad. This past week I finally got into the groove here, I think, and started to just relax and enjoy things as they came. I don't mean to say I'll be sad to go home; it's just unfortunate that it took me three weeks to figure the traveling life out. But I think two months is a good amount of time - so while it's here, and now that I know how, I'm going to enjoy it. And I'll be equally happy to sit on a plane in 30 days, California-bound.

I think maybe part of the reason I forgot to write yesterday was that not a whole lot happened. It was just a pleasant day; I got to sleep in again, since church didn't start until noon. Carole took Aaron to her niece and nephew's confirmation at the nearby Roman Catholic church, and Ray took Mark and me to their Presbyterian church down the road. I love this area - everyone knows everyone, it's so small. Everything is literally "across the road" or "down the road", and if you want to go into "town", you have to drive a few miles to a place with a grocery store, a restaurant, and a pub. In fact I'm gonna see about walking there today (which means I need to get a move on, considering it's almost 2:30). The church they attend up here is very traditional (as in, not even singing hymns, by our standards - they sing psalms) and very small (we're talking about twenty to thirty people). First of all, Mark is fast-becoming a buddy of mine - he sat next to me in church, instead of his dad. Which meant that I got to help him find Bible passages and songs and things - which was fun. I like playing big-sister. After the service, Ray introduced me to a few people, but within a few minutes everyone knew my name and they were all coming up and talking to me. They were all so fantastic! I mean, the people at the church in Dublin are all really nice and friendly, but these people were just... well, I guess it's just the difference between country and city folk. It's not that one group is nicer than the other, but there is a distinct difference in the way they treat visitors. The people in Donegal just seem to be much more personable and just, well, loving, I guess. I also like seeing the Ray and Carole in their "native setting". They've always been wonderful, but they seem much more at ease here, somehow. They also talk a bit differently when talking to their family or friends. (Of which I've now met quite a few.) It's been fun.

Anyway - after church we all got back to the house and had lunch, and then we drove a few miles out to the beach on one of the most northern parts of the country. Apparently some British group voted this particular beach (whose name I forget) the second most beautiful beach in the world. Not sure if I agree with that, but it was nice. We walked about 3 miles down and 3 miles back, and on the way back, Ray and Carole walked ahead and the boys were lagging behind. Aaron was walking furthest back, thinking to himself - and Mark was running this way and that, first down to the water and then up through the grassy ridges above the sand. Eventually he settled for walking with me, and showing me his shell collection, and drawing the size of some monster Chinese crab on the sand every few hundred feet. I asked him what he wants to be when he grows up, and he said probably a scientist or a football player. He then amended the statement: "A scientist would be my regular job, though." It reminded me of when I wanted to be an astronaut, and a waitress and a writer on the side. Then he said, "I think football players must make more money than rugby players - because it's so hard to score a goal in rugby!" I thought that was funny.

Speaking of the whole "growing up" question, it's interesting what responses I get from people when they ask what I'm studying and I say that I want to be a writer. A lot of people just look mildly impressed, and a few have said, "Do you have anything planned, in case that doesn't work out?" (which I think is a horrible thing to say to anyone). But almost EVERYONE asks me if I've written things so far, and I'm never sure how to answer that question. It's not like I've published anything, but seriously. Why on earth would I want to spend my life writing if I hadn't written anything yet? What right would I have to TRY to be a writer, if I'd never written? Ah well. I guess it's just their way of making conversation; I just think it's funny.

After we got back from the beach, the boys and I played Monopoly. I hate that game, but I couldn't turn down an invitation. We didn't get to finish, so I think we're doomed to spend another night on it - but it's okay. They're pretty cool kids. I'm watching them again tonight, because Ray and Carole are going out to see "Wrath of the Titans"... which Carole, for some reason, pronounces "Roth of the Titans". Odd.

Today I woke up at 9:30, because some of their little cousins came over and they spent the morning running around the house and playing games, the objects of which seemed to be to out-yell each other for as long as possible. So I read in bed for awhile, but then they all went outside and I fell asleep again as soon as the house was quiet. I awoke after 12. The day's been fairly uneventful since then, but as I said, I'm hoping to make up for it this afternoon. It's actually really nice not having the option to hop on a train or a bus to get into a big city from here... I get to relax and be as much of a hermit as I want. :)

It's almost 7 now, at home. Good morning to the West Side.