Ireland, Day 2, June 10

The City of Waterford

We were totally exhausted when we drove into the city. We had been driving around the countryside and had only slept a little on the plane. The last time we had eaten was on the plane before we landed. We were so hungry we couldn't sleep, and so sleepy we couldn't eat.

We were on a mission for food at about 2:00 pm local time. We were also looking for Waterford Crystal factory so we could see how the crystal was made. Food won out.

We found a yummy looking steak place. Closed. We found a yummy looking hamburger place. Closed. I was on the verge of tears and a major melt down (at age 31, I know). We asked some nice ladies what close food was available. They pointed us to a little cafe very close to where we were. We hauled our exhausted bodies up the stairs, and found a cute little cafe. I ordered lentil soup (what was I thinking? I don't like lentil soup!) and J ordered a ham sandwich. It was literally a slab of ham on bread. We had water - which the waiter called a 'gulp' of water. J thought that was cute.

I was literally sleeping in my chair with my head in my hands, barely awake long enough to bring a bite of soup to my mouth, then dozing off again for a few seconds. J was about the same. We were simply pitiful.

After our meal - lunch? dinner? we went out in search of Waterford Crystal Factory. We had, on complete accident, parked at the factory entrance. Unfortunately for us, the crystal factory part where they show you how they cut the glass was permanently closed. Boo!

At that point, me barely hanging on to consciousness and just a few bites of food in my belly, I decided that if Waterford didn't have a glass cutting demonstration, I wasn't gonna go. So there.

Photos of the town of Waterford. It is a pretty little town.

This picture might be of Cashel. I have it labeled as Waterford, but the castle looks like Cashel. Either my notes are wrong, or my memory of Cashel is wrong. Or both. Who knows.

This is definitely Waterford. It was so pretty!

Ireland, Day 2, June 10

Our first tourist stop was Jerpoint Abbey. With the help of a very friendly native, I was able to pay for our tickets, return the tickets, and purchase an OPW pass - the equivalent of a National Parks and Monuments pass. Best purchase ever. We got a book with the pass of all we were eligible to enter for free, and little write ups about each of them. We got so much out of that book. I highly recommend it.

Euros are different than American dollars, mostly because the bills are all different sizes and colors, and their coinage goes to two dollars. I had the most trouble with the coins. I'm not sure I got better as the week went on, but we did manage to pay for everything we needed.


Jerpoint Abbey was a Cistercian Monastary founded in 1180. The Cistercian Monks were tired of the corruption of the Catholic church and the enslavement the church was under because they accepted money from those who, lets say, didn't have the interests of the church at heart. So the Cistercians developed to avoid the influence of those who influenced the Catholic church at large. Their main emphasis was on being self-sufficient and producing all they needed to survive, as well as focusing on manual labor as being pleasing to God.

This particular group farmed, with the help of local townsmen who worked on the abbey grounds without being officially monks. The lay workers had nothing to do at all with the monks. Their food was prepared in the same space, but they did not eat together nor sleep together. The lay workers received some protection, and stable job, and lodging. The monks received a steady supply of food and time to study the scriptures more fully and worship God.

At it's height, the abbey grounds were several thousand acres, and supported farming, sheep, and crafting. It was turned over to the state of England during the reign of King Henry VIII, after the Dissolution of Monastaries Edict between 1536 and 1541. King Henry was the supreme head of the Church of England, and was (disappointed, jealous?) concerned about the large amount of land and wealth all the monastaries, nunneries, and abbeys had appropriated for the church (which was tax-exempt). King Henry demanded and recieved all the lands held by religions organizations, as well as all the money in their coffers.

Jerpoint Abbey was turned over to the Office of Public Works in 1880 for restoration and preservation. It was a gorgeous site, and the tour guide was wonderful, pointing out to us old carvings of the 12 apostles and Irish saints, explaining the lay out, and giving us our first taste of Irish history.



The courtyard:



The main walkway. I am standing in the chapel, looking toward the secondary chapel.



An Irish high cross, very old. (I didn't write it down!)





The ceiling of the tower, directly above where the monks worshipped.





Jeremy looking at a sarcophagus inside the abbey. I believe it was the first abbot of the abbey.





The watch tower.






My husband

An Irish high cross inside the grave yard. These graves date from the 1700s, and those are the ones with headstones we can read. In Europe as a whole, people are not embalmed. They are interred in a simple pine casket and left to nature's work. Families would be buried in one hole, generation on generation. While we think that is strange, it is completely normal in Ireland. After one generation of being in the ground, all that may be left of your parents may be bones, or simply rich dirt. The head stones had lists of people buried there, added decades apart, that may include the great- or great-great-grandchildren of the original occupants. Jerpoint Abbey's graveyard was still active, with descendants of the original occupants (so to speak) continuing to use the family plot. New families were not allowed to start plots in the grave yard, however.

Jerpoint Abbey from the road.

Us after "sleeping" on the plane. We might look discheveled and tired, but we were excited to start our adventure!

Ireland, Day 1, June 9

Hmmm. So one day turned into two...and three...

Without further adieu, hereee's Ireland...



Day 1: Wednesday, June 9th



We got up early and finished packing. Our dear friend was kind enough to drive us all the way to Intercontinental Airport, and we hauled our suitcases into terminal C, excited and nervous about our adventure. We caught our first plane to New Jersey, the Ewark International Airport. We were unaccoustomed to flying Continental Airlines, and we were shocked! at all the amenities we have been missing because we fly the cheap seats. Which isn't so bad for a few hour flight, but for a 19 hour flight (including layovers) we went with a different airline. And Southwest doesn't fly to Ireland.



They have movies in the seat back in front of you, and you get ear phones. Awesome. There were about 35 different movies, and 60 television shows to choose from. The time remaining on the flight was on the screen, so you could pick your in flight entertainment accordingly. You can tell this made a big impression on me!



We landed in Ewark without (much) difficulty. *side note: when the pilot gets on the overhead PA system and announces that there's extremely turbulent air in about 10 mintues, that all passengers should be in their seats with their seatbelts on and plan for some severe bumps, it's enough to give even the calmest passenger a mild panic attack. Yep.

Our plane from New Jersey to Dublin. It was raining pretty hard, as you can tell from the photos. I suppose that's what made for the bumpy flight.








Our sign from the terminal announcing our flight information. Doesn't it stir excitement in your heart?





Our first view of Ireland. It's just a preview of tomorrow's post.

Well, hello there!

I've been absent for a while. You may have noticed. I have received some comments about my absence on the internet. So, I am doing my best to re-establish this blog and keep it up to date. I think that the first thing I will blog about is Ireland trip. Tomorrow.

Hope you all have a good night!

New Poll Results

Attention everyone.

The question has been answered. No more sleepless nights.

The most annoying phrase or word in the English language is "whatever." In case you were wondering, Marist College did a poll on 938 adults, and they were the ones who picked the most annoying word or phrase.

Apparently my top annoying word didn't make the cut for the five annoying phrases the adults picked from. Hmmm. Maybe I should conduct my own poll. Surely I can find 938 adults to ask.

What is your most annoying phrase or word?

For the record, if I never hear the (non)word "tumped" again, I'll be okay. I think it's a hybrid between "tipped" and "dumped," but I'm not sure.

There. Now your day is complete. You now know the most annoying word. Be sure to sprinkle it liberally in your daily conversation.

One person can make a difference...

I recently read an article (online, of course) that described 50 things that the internet is killing. You can read the entire list here. It's kind of an interesting little article, and a great commentary on how things are changing around the world because of technology.

Any-hoo. It seems that I am guilty of helping the culture to kill #5 (punctuality) and #50 (lunch break - seriously, when was the last time I left my desk to eat???). I found one thing that I simply cannot let pass without comment.

#43. Solitare, and it's counterpart, Minesweeper. The internet is killing solitare and minesweeper. Let that sink in a moment, shall we?

How in the world would I have spent (or wasted) hours upon hours of my precious time in high school, college, graduate school and beyond without these two games?

So, today, take one for the team. One person can make a difference, you know. Double click on the deck of cards, just once before bed tonight. See how many mines you can find before you blow up. Practice makes perfect. If you fail, then try, try again.

Just a note: I'm definitely doing my part to help clean up the mines of America. And save Minesweeper. Maybe we should have t-shirts made...

The End of the Story

So I'm in a bloggy-funk, but I've gotten enough snarky comments from the three of you people who read me on a regular basis to protect myself from further snarks, and go ahead and post.

I was waiting until I got pictures up and going, but that's going to take too long, and this (non-photo) blog as been rolling around in my brain for a few days now.

I love good endings. If I invest a few hours of my life reading a book* or watching a movie, it's got to end well. That means: the guy gets the girl, the wedding happens, the baby is born, the family lives happily ever after. If it's not happily-ever-after, I don't wanna know about it. I see too much of the not happily-ever-after in real life. I read or watch movies to escape.

So, having the former in mind, I'm switching lanes. Fear not, I'm still on the mountain, I'm just meandering a little.

A girl I knew in college lost her younger sister to cancer about a week ago. The sister shares a birthday with my brother. I don't know why, but that made this hit closer to home. I knew the sister in college (it was a really small college). I didn't know she was sick until after she had passed away. Her story was too brief. The end of her story was unexpected and tragic. And crappy.

And yet, the ending was victorious. It truly was happily-ever-after for her. (See, I told you I was still on the mountain.) We are all to finish the race well. We are all to strive for the goal. She just beat alot of people to the finish line.

Our victory is assured. We don't have to wonder about the outcome. We don't have to be anxious about the end. The battle is won.

There is a happy ending here. Even in the midst of feeling unhappy.

*If you're not like me and let your books end not-so-happily-ever-after, Sea Glass by Anita Shreve is good. It's just not happily-ever-after. Definitely not.