How it all started...

"I can't believe I'm going to Ireland!" "I'm going to Ireland!", "I'm going to Ireland", "I'm going to Ireland". And so the litany went over and over in my head that afternoon in October of 2010. I had just gotten off the phone with my Dad who kindly said he would take me along on one of his Karate seminars to Athlone, Ireland. It seemed fated. I had just turned 40 and wanted to do something to mark that fact. We were flying into the Shannon Airport, staying at the Shannon Oaks Hotel which is on the River Shannon and just so happened to be on Shannon Rd. Every cell of my being was calling to go and weirdly seemed that Ireland was calling me back as well. On that drive I just couldn't stop smiling. I wasn't just smiling with my mouth, but with my fingertips and toes. Such a ray of sunshine during some very cloudy times.

For a while I didn't even want to tell anyone. I wanted this little secret all to myself to soak in. This was very unlike me - I am usually "overly" open about everything but this was one happiness that was mine and mine alone and I wanted to keep the special feeling as close as possible for as long as possible. My Dad had handed me a beautiful gift and I will never be able to let him know how much it has meant to me. Although I have tried repeatedly, with big words, small words, tears and smiles to convey my joy.

My good sister/friend Patsy agreed to be "blessed" with my children for the 10 days I would be gone. She had a lot going on in her own life but without a hint of hesitation agreed to have the munchkins. A true angel. They had such a good time with her and her family (she and Vern are the only ones who will take my kids camping). I left for NC a week before I was due to leave for Ireland.

Our visit in NC was fantastic. My kids who have not grown up in the South always have a bit of culture shock when we visit. "Mom, there are so many churches!" And "So much brick!" Also, "Why do we have to eat at Chick-Fil-A every day?" (It's called culture, children, now eat your waffle fries!) 

We visited the Carl Sandberg home where I put on plays from the Rootabaga Stories  when I was in Elementery School. I bought a copy of the Rootabaga Stores for my kids and we are reading them now. Mrs. Sandberg was really into goats (don't understand that myself) and the descendents of her flocks are still there. Two babies had just been born and my kids really loved playing with the adults.


Carl Sandberg Home



Maya's goat's eyes rolled back in its head when she scratched it!




Seannie is always ready for a pose!

 



Me at my favorite gate