Memorial Day

 Cheers, everyone!

It's Memorial Day weekend in America, the unofficial start to summer. Many years ago, I went to Arlington Cemetery to be present at the Changing of the Guard ceremony on Memorial Day. I arrived at the exact moment when Vice President Dan Quayle and his wife, Marilyn, were stepping out of their limousine. Times were different then; they mingled with the crowd. It seems like a lifetime ago!

All gave some. Some gave all. 

I hope that many of you have  plans to grill or share a meal with family or friends at some point over the next few days. Enjoy! Please also remember that the holiday is a remembrance of all who gave their lives in service to the nation. The past 15 months have provided us with searing reminders of how precious life is. I'm grateful that people are getting vaccinated and an end to this pandemic is almost in sight.

This is our first holiday since we left America. I feel a twinge of missing the traditions of US holidays. I want to make potato salad and I crave a hot dog. What I miss most is the music of patriotic America. I love the Sousa marches, the anthem, the host of patriotic songs that commemorate the military branches. I'm a sucker for America The Beautiful. I don't know enough about Ireland to be able to correlate America's music to what is tradition here. I'm looking forward to learning about it. 

This looks yummy!!

Instead of grilling or going to the beach, we'll spend the weekend prepping for the painter who arrives next week. We're weary from the move and the endless unpacking. On Monday, we're driving down to Limerick to shop for a guest bed and pick up some vegan cupcakes from a bakery. Not typical Memorial Day activities!

The Republic of Ireland, where we live, does not celebrate Memorial Day. It does recognise Remembrance Day, although not as a national holiday. The citizens of the Republic of Ireland (the southern part of the island) have a somewhat troublesome relationship with the British, who celebrate Remembrance Day with great fanfare. Thomas and I  have so much to learn about the history of this nation!

However you celebrate, please be safe and enjoy the time off from work if you are fortunate enough to get it. 

Sláinte!

Wired and Tired

 Cheers, everyone!

It's a chilly, rainy, windy morning here on the Emerald Isle. I'm a bit relieved that the outside is so inhospitable because it reminds me that I need a break. We have been so busy for so long that it's time for me to just sit and enjoy the time and space. 

I have a lifelong tendency to forget the things I have accomplished and focus on what is still undone. Getting documented, moving to a new country, and discovering a new house in the middle of a global pandemic was enormously challenging. Instead of looking back at that with any sense of satisfaction, I look at a box marked "Pantry" and my stomach starts to knot. 

We received a flurry of deliveries this week that demanded our attention. It's interesting to see how drivers either know our house by the shopping habits of the previous owners or simply cannot find it at all. Ireland uses a system of Eircodes, similar to ZIP codes in the US. Due to our rural location, our Eircode is specific to our house instead of a neighbourhood. Some delivery people buzz in, drop stuff off, and head straight away. Others call, asking for directions. When they hear my American accent, I sense their heart dropping and imagine them plugging our Eircode into their GPS to find us. 

We took three trips to Nenagh, a town about 30 minutes away from us, to get our Irish cell phones set up. It looks like we are both finally done with that. Neither of us has figured out how Irish phone numbers work.  

Mac, our lawn man, came yesterday to mow. The yard looks beautiful in the lashing rain that is encouraging it to keep growing. 

The FedEx box over which I fretted for weeks finally arrived this week. It did not have the two pieces of paper I was hoping I had stashed in it. More stomach knotting. 

Ikea delivered three items to us early in the week. We put together the bathroom storage. I swear, putting together Ikea items evoked more relationship tension than the entire trip over to Ireland. We persisted and succeeded in getting two of the three items done. Our bathrooms are tiny. I ordered what looked like toy furniture. They fit perfectly. The third, a test of a dining chair, will have to be returned. This requires a trip to Dublin, an hour away. 

We received a package with a water fountain in it for Velvet Jane. She refuses to drink still water, insisting on a moving stream. When we were in temporary housing, we just opened the taps in the bathrooms. We expected her to be delighted to have a fountain similar to the one we had in our home in Virginia. But she looks at it with scorn and jumps up on the sink in her bathroom, impatiently waiting for one of us to provide her with water. 

Our technology needs continue to be ticked off the To Do list. The network was in place when we arrived, thanks to the helpful previous owner who combined the removal of his router with making sure that ours was put in place. We have TV (the Sky man dismissed our Amazon Fire TV stick by simply removing it and laying it on the floor), our computers and printers function, our phones are Irish, and we are slowly acquiring appliances with Irish plugs. 

We have gotten so much done! Time for a cup of tea, a blanket, and a long, lazy day. 

Sláinte!

Week Three!

Cheers, everyone!

It's hard to believe that it has been two weeks since we left America for our new life in Ireland. The adjustment has been much less drama-filled than I expected. We are still chugging through moving chores and checking off the boxes on our To Do list, facilitated by the steady hand and ready humor of our Irish angels, Hugh and Eileen. They came to visit on Saturday, Eileen with arms full of homemade chutneys and Hugh casting an eye about to make sure we were making appropriate progress. We had tea and strudel and their planned one-hour visit extended to two, assuring me that we had done well with our first social invitation. 

Yesterday, we drove to Dublin and back to return The Beast for a more reasonably sized car. Thomas is continually surprised by how nice the Irish are. After our interaction yesterday at the car rental counter, he again mentioned it. He followed up with a comment that he's spent too much time living with lowered expectations of how service people treat their customers. Thanks to the very nice Hertz man, we are now driving a normal car. 

We both continue to be tickled by the interest the Irish have in us and the warmth of their welcoming greetings. We also are often reminded of the close-knit nature of our community. Everyone in Glasshouse knows everyone else and/or is related to them. However, the speed with which they've opened their arms to us is very gratifying. Here are a few examples. 

We stopped into the appliance store in Roscrea (the town nearest to us) to while away 15 minutes until the cell phone shop reopened after its lunch break. As I often do, I started off the conversation by explaining that we are transplanted Americans unclear about most things Irish and in need of advice on what to buy. Helen, the sales associate, eyed me carefully and asked my name. "Mary Claire, welcome to Ireland! Where would you be living?" I mentioned Shinrone. "Where in Shinrone?" I confirmed that we are in Glasshouse. "Glasshouse? Are you the Americans who bought the [previous owners] house?" Yes, I replied. "Ah, Mary Claire, that's a fine house. He was a very particular man. That house is like a fortress. He's a teacher, did you know that? His wife is also a teacher. My home place is next to Shinrone." And just like that, Helen and I were talking about why we moved to Ireland, what did we think of it, have our household goods arrived, etc. We have since purchased an iron, an immersion blender, a TV, and a cooker (combined oven and range) from Helen. She sent Patrick, the electrician, over on Saturday to deliver the cooker in preparation for its installation tonight. 

Because we are out in the country, we had to find and contract with a trash and recycling service. We chose Ryan's. The Ryan's man delivered our trash and recycling bins last week. Before he turned them over to us, he carefully wiped them down with a cloth. We stood, watching in amazement, as he turned the cloth over and over to clean each part of our trash bins. 

We ordered some pet supplies for Velvet Jane from a shop in Limerick. Limerick is officially designated as a city, a coveted designation that affords extra local governance. There are only six cities in Ireland. Hugh disdainfully refers to Limerick as "a glorified town". Any way, the pet shop sent a text that they'd be delivering our goods between 3:37 and 5:37 on Tuesday last week. Thomas commented on the specificity of the timing. When the driver arrived at 6:00, he was full of apologies. His van had broken down and he needed to locate a working one, empty the contents of the broken-down one, and restock the functioning vehicle. Never did he complain about this; he simply apologised multiple times for the enormous inconvenience suffered upon our cat by his delay. I assured him that the delay was not a problem and offered consolation for the awful day he was having. 

Then, we hired Gerard to replace the locks on our house and to key them all so that a single key would open each door. He came out from Roscrea, inspected the locks, commented on the very particular needs of the previous owner (did we know that he's a teacher?), and expressed apologies that he would have to return the following day with the lock sets. Apparently, they are not your run of the mill lock set. The next morning, he called to ask when would be a good time to return. He showed up on time and spent about 15 minutes efficiently installing the new locks. He presented us with an invoice for his services. When I asked what type of payment he would take, he responded, "Ah, just drop by the next time you're in town and pay me then". 

Today marks the end of our self-isolation period (and we have a normal car!). I will start driving to town and over to the monastery for morning walks. The peace and quiet that we held our breaths and hoped for has arrived in full bloom. I find it miraculous that I am living in this gloriously beautiful country, surrounded by nature and friendly people. 

Our next challenge is to obtain Irish driving licences. I think there will be a blog post worthy of that endeavour. 

Sláinte!

Moving Day!

 Cheers, everyone!

We are steadily adjusting to life in rural Ireland. It has been a daunting transition as we identify all the things we need (electricity, broadband and phone, gas, home/health/car insurance, doctors) and realise all those we don't (about 15% of what we moved here). Our household goods and vehicles arrived today in an explosion of activity that rocked our rural neighbourhood. We went from a big empty house to box-filled rooms of incoming stuff. 250 boxes, crates, and pieces of furniture were delivered. 90% of them were unpacked. Our two vintage cars and two "grownup" cars are here.  

The finicky Irish weather cooperated with the moving team today. The sky was brilliant blue with a few puffy clouds. To remind us where we are, the threat of a storm moved in but never materialised. We feel so lucky to be in this house in this country with our adorable (and slightly confused) cat, Velvet Jane. I would never have imagined that we would make such a drastic move at our ages and yet, I am perfectly content and thoroughly exhausted. 

I did not envy the driver of the truck that delivered our vehicles. These narrow Irish roads are fearsome in a small vehicle. 

We started the morning with a chair being revealed. A mere three hours later, every item was inside the house and I was madly stowing the kitchen parts. I need to make space for the rest of the unpacking tomorrow. Our kitchen was advertised as having "endless storage". So far, I have packed it with the contents of our kitchen, living room cabinets, sunroom cabinets, and pantry. There is room left over! The tradeoff to this is that there is no other storage in the house. 

There remains great trepidation about COVID here. Everyone wears masks, even out in the country where we live. A neighbour came by on Monday to bring flowers to welcome us. I opened the door to ask her in and she quickly backed away, with a brief "Y'know, COVID" explanation. This makes it difficult to obtain appointments for our resident visa and various car and driver registrations. The Irish are an eminently practical people. Rather than try to Zoom or phone everything, extensions are granted when proper proof of intention is provided. It is a much slower pace than we are used to and we are grateful for that. 

So, eight days in and we are beginning to feel settled. Now that we have our own bed and normal sized cars, I will start driving and we'll return The Beast. Our period of self-isolation ends if we can obtain a negative PCR test tomorrow. Some of the national lockdown prohibitions will be lifted next week, allowing us a bit more freedom in shopping for non-essential items and exploring our region. The days are long here already. It's almost 9 pm and the sun is just dipping below the horizon. 

Dreams do come true. 

Sláinte!

The Origin of Glasshouse

Cheers, everyone!

We've been resident in Ireland for four full days now. We feel like we should be able to drive from our home to the nearest village on our own. Nope. These Irish roads are full of twists and turns with no signage. We are completely reliant on GPS (SatNav in Irish). Sometimes Siri and Google disagree and we have to make split second decisions. It's a bit nerve-wracking in The Beast, the enormous vehicle we rented to make our maiden voyage to our new home. We will return it next Saturday, when our self-isolation period ends and inter-county travel is permitted. 

We have been curious about the name "Glasshouse" since we first encountered it in the online real estate listing. Were we buying a named house? No. Is Glasshouse a town or village? No. Is it a neighborhood like Ballston or Courthouse in Arlington or Foggy Bottom or Georgetown in DC? No. 

I searched in the archives of the Irish Times and found the answer. The origin of the name Glasshouse refers to buildings that were active around 1590-1640. Glass was made in vaulted buildings using wood and heat to create glass from nearby silica. 

I also searched my repository of online knowledge, Wikipedia. Here I learned that Glasshouse is designated as a "townland". According to that citation, "A townland is a small geographical division of land used in Ireland and in the Western Isles in Scotland." Here is a list of all the town lands in County Offaly, where we live. The townland of Glasshouse includes 838 acres in our baronry, Clonlisk, and 134 acres in the Tullamore baronry. 

I was a little blown away after learning that we're living in an area that's been commercially active since the 16th century. The additional information about how glass was made at that time fascinates me. However, there is now zero cachet in telling the locals that I know where my great-great-great grandmother, Margaret Lyons, was born. They are not impressed. Perhaps I need to be more explicit about our location: "you know, where they made glass in the 16th century". 

Sláinte!