I promise I do more than sit around and read.
I also sit and chat to relatives, sit and drink a cup of tea, sit and write, sit and knit (or try to knit--I'm supposed to be learning, but I have a natural talent for dropping stitches), sit and listen to the news on the radio, sit and watch television. And now I've decided to sit and update this blog.
So instead of description, here is a little bit of action and moving around:
1. Travelling: I did a little bit of travelling the last two weeks. First I went to Wicklow with a cousin who directs a choir for senior citizens there once a week. It was a nice small town in the hills. You could see a few sheep grazing from the window of the choir-room. Last week, I took the train up to Dublin with my grandparents to see a second-cousin (or something like that-- I'm never quite sure how the "once-removing" and "seconding" thing works) perform in the opera La Boheme. The music was very impressive. I'd never been to an opera before, so now I can check that off my list of cultural experiences!
We also went to Trinity College to see the Book of Kells. The book itself was incredible. The exhibits showed how it would have been handstitched, how the dyes were created, and how the intricate details in the drawings related to the text. After the exhibit, we walked through an old library with tons of old books, both shelved and displayed in glass cases. I tried to imagine studying in such a space: two stories of wooden shelves full of worn books with narrow ladders to reach from one level to the next, or just to grab a book from the highest shelf. Picture the library from Disney's Beauty and the Beast but small and wooden.
The final trip was much closer to Waterford. On Friday we drove to Wexford to see the Notre Dame Folk Choir sing at The Annunciation Church, where a group of former Notre Dame students work. There is something strange about seeing people in another country, and I think they were surprised to see me too. It was so familiar to see them all and to hear their music, but it was all out of context in Ireland, with my grandparents.
2. Swimming and Running: It was actually a bit hot last weekend, and so I finally went swimming! It's been a long time since I've been in Ireland in the summer, so the last time I went swimming in the sea, I was ten (I skipped the traditional "jump in the sea Christmas day" when we were here a year and a half ago. There was something more appealing about staying inside with the fire and not freezing to death). I have no idea what the water would be like in the winter, but it was still quite cold last weekend. On Saturday I went to Newtown Cove, a small rocky swimming area just down the road from my grandparents' house.There are a group of people who swim there year-round (including one of my uncles who doesn't need any extra excuses to tease a person), so I knew if I went I would have to get in or lose face. I did not want to be that American who couldn't handle the cold.
The worst part is getting into the water. No matter how warm it is, once you are standing on the edge of the slip in your swimsuit, the temperature seems to drop. Some people jump in to get it over with, but I decided to walk down into the water so I could retreat if necessary. There is a railing that you can hold walking down the concrete ramp, slowly letting the water raise to your ankles, your knees. And then when you finally ease into the water, there is a terrible moment when the breath is shocked out of your body and you wonder if you are going to be able to move. Like brain-freeze in your chest (and sometimes normal brain-freeze too).
Luckily, it gets better after a few seconds. Or maybe your body is just too numb to tell.
I went swimming twice again on Sunday: once in Newtown Cove with my aunt, and later that afternoon at the beach in Annestown. By the time we got out to Annestown, the sun had disappeared and the temperature had dropped considerably, but the waves were huge, so we decided to go in anyway. We stayed in for about an hour. I didn't think I was that cold, but when I got out my hands were so stiff and numb I couldn't get my clothes on.
It is nice to jump in the water after a good run, though. Even though it seemed to get cold just when I finished running, I was warmed-up enough that a cold swim still sounded nice.
I've started running with my aunt this week. I'd forgotten how much it helps to run with someone else (much like the swimming-- once I've committed, I hate to embarrass myself by backing out). On Monday she invited me to go with her running group. The other women chatted with one another while we ran through narrow country roads, occasionally asking me questions like, "You wouldn't have roads like this in Minnesota, would you?" (No, we would not.)
"Can cars drive both ways here?" I asked, guessing the answer.
"Yes."
Two cars might just fit if they both drove in the ditch. Whenever a single car came (luckily we never encountered two at once), we all had to shift to one side to let it pass and one of the women would yell to the group up ahead. "Car!"
Perhaps not the safest place to run, but much more interesting (and prettier) than running on the sidewalk at home where one block is a straight half mile and the scenery is limited to the cornfield across the road.
It is nice to jump in the water after a good run, though. Even though it seemed to get cold just when I finished running, I was warmed-up enough that a cold swim still sounded nice.
I've started running with my aunt this week. I'd forgotten how much it helps to run with someone else (much like the swimming-- once I've committed, I hate to embarrass myself by backing out). On Monday she invited me to go with her running group. The other women chatted with one another while we ran through narrow country roads, occasionally asking me questions like, "You wouldn't have roads like this in Minnesota, would you?" (No, we would not.)
"Can cars drive both ways here?" I asked, guessing the answer.
"Yes."
Two cars might just fit if they both drove in the ditch. Whenever a single car came (luckily we never encountered two at once), we all had to shift to one side to let it pass and one of the women would yell to the group up ahead. "Car!"
Perhaps not the safest place to run, but much more interesting (and prettier) than running on the sidewalk at home where one block is a straight half mile and the scenery is limited to the cornfield across the road.
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