Harry Potter and the Washing Up Liquid

I'm reading the Harry Potter series in English for the first time, British English that is. I can say with confidence that I have read these books enough times that I notice when something seems slightly off. I knew that Harry, Ron, and Hermione would be uncovering the mystery of the Philosopher's Stone instead of the Sorcerer's Stone for example, but I wasn't prepared for the numerous other small changes. Dudley gets a "cine-camera" for his eleventh birthday; Dumbledore eats "sherbet lemon" instead of lemon drops; the merry-go-round at the zoo is a "roundabout"; Hogwarts students are always "revising" for exams instead of studying. And my favorite one of all is this gem from Order of the Phoenix,

"'Anyway, it's a nightmare of a year, the fifth,' said George. 'If you care about exam results, anyway. Fred and I managed to keep our peckers up somehow.'"

Whoa, TMI Weasley twins! Now, I have no idea what George says in the American translation, but it probably wasn't anything boner-related. I think I'd remember that. I wonder other little surprises I will find in the rest of the series. I don't think the content was changed, but it is a little jarring that these books that have been such a big part of my life are suddenly so unfamiliar.

In addition to learning such valuable life lessons from Harry Potter, living in Ireland has also led me to realize that there are some huge differences between British and American English. Sometimes I genuinely have no idea what people are talking about. It took me a long time to realize that "tea" can mean dinner. When someone asks what you are having for tea, tea is not always the right answer. Sometimes tea is spaghetti. If someone tells you to bring your togs, that means bring your bathing suit, unless you want to go naked swimming. A press is a cupboard. Courgette, rocket, and aubergine are zucchini, arugula, and eggplant, respectively. I have to remind myself not to get excited when people talk about hockey here because they are referring to field hockey, not ice. Sometimes, I think British English takes way too long to describe items. Why say "washing up liquid" when I could just say "dish soap"? Maybe this is why they shorten so many other words (choc, sammy/sambo, telly, brill, fab, veg). Are they trying to make up for lost time? And then there are some things that just don't make any sense at all, like "drink-driving." That's not even grammatically possible people!

Irish Accents

I have recently become aware that I have a small, yet embarrassing problem. I seem to lack the ability to identify Irish accents. Luckily, it doesn't affect my daily life very much. Because I'm surrounded by Irish people, I usually don't have to ask them where they developed that exotic accent. I can just assume they're Irish... until they tell me otherwise. The trouble usually occurs when I'm watching movies or TV. I guess my brain just doesn't understand that there are Irish people outside the roles of cereal salesmen, priests, and pirates (arrghh-- that's Irish, right?). I just don't expect to see them outside of any of those situations, so I can't place them. Realizing that Keith was Irish probably went something like this (I say probably because I was too busy being embarrassed about how I had just accused him of thinking my name was Keith to remember any such conversation):

Keith: I just got off the plane from Ireland.

Me: Cool! Were you on vacation?

Keith: That's where I'm from... You can probably tell from my accent.

Me: Haha... whaaa? Ohhhh.

And now, here are a few examples of my reactions to Irish people in film.

Evanna Lynch as Luna Lovegood- "Why did they cast her? She doesn't even sound British!" When I saw an article about her in an Irish newspaper this summer I finally realized that she is not, in fact British.

Dylan Moran as that annoying guy from Shaun of the Dead-- "There is something very strange about the way he speaks." I recently saw him in a TV show where he was referred to as "the Irish guy," which explained a lot.

Chris O'Dowd as the cop/love interest in Bridesmaids-- "He has like a weird accent." I watched this movie with my friends while visiting Maryland a few weeks ago, so they had to inform me that he was Irish. Clearly, living in Ireland has not fixed this problem at all.

horsey people and their even horsier horses

I think everyone in Ireland either owns or aspires to own a horse. It's as if the entire country is populated by nine year old girls. I've never owned a horse. The closest I ever got were the days when I would pretend my bicycle was a horse. Her name was Starlight and I used to feed her grass by passing it through the handlebars. My sister took her to Chicago where she was stolen out of an apartment building. Chicago is no place for magical horse-bikes. Neither is Ireland. Ireland is a place for non-magical, actual horses.

Over the past few weeks I've spent more time than usual around horses. It's actually quite difficult to avoid horses in this country, especially when they are pulling carts along Wexford's dangerously narrow roads. Unfortunately, I'm not terribly interested in the animals, so I probably won't be able to share any fascinating information with you. I will, however, share a conversation demonstrating my continued ignorance to most things horsey.

Setting-- Over at Keith's cousins' house for dinner. The Doyle girls happen to train racehorses and we happen to be eating steaks.

Man: (to Keith's cousin, Christina) Champion steaks. . .

Me: (enthusiastically) Mmmm yes, delicious!

Man: *pause* are next weekend. Are you running any horses?

I realize he said "stakes" and go back to eating my steak, which was very good, but probably wouldn't have won any championship.

Despite lacking the skills to participate in dinner conversation, I did manage to do rather well at my first foray into gambling at the seedy local racetrack. One of the horses I bet on actually won and I must admit, it was rather thrilling. Again, I think any future winnings will be limited by my not caring about horses. The secret to my success? A combination of random selection and following Keith's advice ("pick one that's not pooping"). I also went to an eventing weekend in Tipperary a few weeks ago. The competition involves dressage, show jumping, and a cross-country race that involves horses jumping over massive fallen trees and other obstacles. I spent most of the day driving around on a four-wheeler, fretting about crossing paths with a thousand pound half-wit armed with metal shoes. The two key things I learned from the weekend:

1. It's really hard to get a good photo of a horse in mid-air.

2. Ireland's summer is actually a lot like Ireland's winter.

Now, enjoy some photos of horses two seconds after making an incredible jump.

Baz on Ball

I caught Baz playing one of his favorite games the other day. It's called "roll on the squeaky ball" and I don't really understand the rules.

Kissing

Growing up, whenever my family went to an event that involved distant relations and their friends, my younger sister would always ask the same question-- "Am I going to have to kiss them?" At the time I didn't quite understand her anxiety. Aside from ending up with the inevitable pink lipstick residue on my cheeks there really wasn't much to worry about. Hug, kiss, walk away, and chug some Shirley Temples. Pretty straightforward, right? Not always. Kissing is part of greeting rituals in Ireland too, but unfortunately I've come to share my sister's anxiety about it. Now kissing is all worry without the Shirley Temple reward. "Do I really have to kiss them?", I ask myself. The first reason for my distress is that I don't even really want to kiss acquaintances and strangers, at least not every time I see them. I wouldn't be writing this entry if I did. I have tried distracting people with a hug or a handshake, but they always swoop back in for the peck. I know they're expecting it too, so I give in because I don't want to seem cold. The second reason is lack of kissing protocol. Some people like to do both cheeks, some people do just one, some people switch back and forth depending on the occasion. As a result, I have no idea how many kisses I'm in for. The most awkward thing is when I expect two kisses, but they only want one, so now I'm the one leaning in for an unwanted smooch while my unfortunate victim tries to fend me off. Slightly less awkward is what happens when I'm not sure which side of the face to start of with. He goes left, I go right and then it happens-- we're locking lips, ugh. I'm already pretty awkward most of the time(see below) and I don't think this kissing thing is going to help with that.

Prehistory (8000 BC-400 AD)

Ireland was covered in glaciers up until about 15,000 years ago. As the ice melted and sea levels rose, the land bridge connecting it to Britain was flooded completely about 12,000 years ago. As a result, no new land mammal species have made their way into Ireland since that time without human assistance. Humans first arrived during the Mesolithic Era about 9,000 years ago. They were hunter-gatherers who left only small settlements, stone tools, and pottery in the archaeological record. Neolithic settlers brought farming to Ireland about 6,000 years ago. With their new agricultural lifestyle they brought cultural changes. These are the people who left iconic megalithic monuments scattered across Europe. Most, like Newgrange are tombs, but some are not. The function of tomb is most likely only half of what these monuments meant to the people of Neolithic Ireland. People spend their careers trying to guess at the significance and symbolism of stone circles, passage tombs, and dolmens; we have yet to receive confirmation from their creators. Our conclusions probably reveal more about our own culture than that of Neolithic farmers, but you can't deny the appeal of the ruin and you can't help but wonder. We revisit the prehistoric record because it is "good to think" as a famous anthropologist once said.

Newgrange, Neolithic passage tomb, Co. Meath.

Entrance to Newgrange. Note the carvings on the central stone. The opening above the doorway allows sunlight to illuminate the chamber inside on the morning of the Winter Solstice (weather permitting).

Poulnabrone Dolmen, Neolithic, Co. Clare. The remains of about thirty individuals and grave goods were interred here over a long period of time.

Browne's Hill Dolmen, Co. Carlow. The cap stone weighs over 1000 tons and is the largest in Europe. The site has never been excavated.

Uragh Stone Circle, Beara Peninsula, with Inchaquin Waterfall in the background.

Glebe Stone Circle, Cong. The largest and most complete stone circle I have seen so far; added bonus of grazing sheep.

Derreenataggart Stone Circle, Beara Peninsula.

The Paps of Anu, Co. Kerry. It's hard to see in the photo, but there is a cairn on each mountain tit, I mean top. I haven't seen too much info on this monument other than that Anu was an ancient fertility goddesss. This is one of my favorites because it shows how predictable people are-- think of the guys who named the Grand Tetons. I had seen these mountains in a book and was thrilled when we happened drive right past them on the highway.

Another dinner party?!

You know the old saying, "If you don't like the weather, wait 10 minutes"? I have decided to amend it for the Irish climate/mentality as follows, "If you don't like the weather, leave." Everyone who can afford it spends their summers in the south of France or Spain. I even had someone tell me that if I wanted a colder winter Scandinavia is an easy plane ride away. I do enjoy a bit of icy weather, but something about chasing it down seems just plain wrong. It's been raining, misting, or overcast for about the past two weeks by the way.

Even so, spring is definitely on itsway. I've seen hundreds of daffodils poking their way out of the mud, but despite brave attempts at outdoor frolicking, Keith and I have lately been housebound. So, we have dinner parties-- usually with Keith's friends and families. They have been pretty fun and stress-free for the most part. Keith does the main course and I'll usually do a side and dessert. I really wish I could show you some pictures of the amazing desserts I've made, but I always get too excited about serving them and cut them up before I can take any photos. Just picture a flourless chocolate cake, a blackberry and meringue roulade, a strawberry galette with basil whipped cream. I think I'll make apple pie next because the Irish have it ALL wrong. Aside from the clean-up involved, I'm glad I'm the one hosting the parties because it gives me an excuse to hide in the kitchen away from the guests, which as Colleen can attest to, is probably my favorite part of having people over. It might not go over well to try that out at someone else's home.

Non sequitur. The other day Keith and I have a picnic by a river and we saw this.

What do you think is wrong with this duck? Is it a glandular thing? Did a mallard breed with a goose?

Beaches

I have made a solemn vow that when the temperature reaches 60 degrees I will go for a swim. There are too many gorgeous beaches around here not to take the opportunity when it arises. I did actually see people swimming in Dublin in December and January, but the hypothermia song has convinced me that my doing so might be a bad idea. Aside from working on my golf swing (which Keith says looks more like a baseball swing), walking on the beach has been my main form of exercise. Yesterday Keith and I did 9 km at Curracloe Beach, which is where the opening scene of "Saving Private Ryan" was filmed. The beach itself reminded a bit of Cape Cod, although lacking the same sort of charm. Or maybe I was just feeling grumpy. The sun was shining, the sea was sparkling, racehorses were galloping in the sand, and Baz was frolicking in the waves. I mean, could it get any worse?

How about if we throw in an adorable baby seal? Keith and I were chatting and walking along when we saw Baz run up to investigate a shiny black trash bag, which promptly hissed and snarled at him. At this point we all realized out mistake; Baz kept his distance and Keith and I went for a closer look. Luckily mother was out hunting, so I got a decent photo out of the adventure. I think these little surprises are the best part of my trip here so far-- like when we met a distant cousin-in-law in a pub, or came across an ancient standing stone in a plowed field, or broke into a yew maze and got hopelessly lost. Not too shabby, I think.

Food

Now that Keith and I are living independently we've been able to do a lot more of our own cooking. I had been missing this aspect of our liveswhile in Dublin. So now we're back to oatmeal for breakfast and finding new recipes in cookbooks for the remaining meals. I also baked chocolate chip oatmeal cookies in celebration of our new freedom. I do love some of the food I've had since I arrived in Ireland, but some of it is just bizarre. Here are some of my more memorable food items:

1. Crunchies-- A Cadbury candy bar made of a caramelized sugar center and chocolate exterior. The secert is adding baking soda so that the sugar fizzes and develops air bubbles, so it has a light texture. I saw a recipe for something similar in Martha Stewart, so I will probably be attempting to make them when my supply runs out.

2. Mushy Peas-- Exactly what it sounds like-- peas whirled up in a blender. I first had these in Harrods in London with my fish and chips, which is the traditional pairing. Some people are totally opposed to mushy peas, but I loved them. Peas are also way easier to eat when you don't have to chase them as they roll all over your plate.

3. Full Irish Breakfast-- Fried eggs; fried mushroom; fried tomatoes; sausages; bacon, aka rashers; black pudding; and sometimes baked beans. I can't resist all that salt, sorry.

4. Breakfast Roll-- This falls under the bizarre category. It's basically a variation on the Irish Breakfast, but without the eggs, vegetables, and the need for a fork. Keith bought this for me when he went into a market to get me a coffee and a "snack." He said he bought it just so I could see this crazy thing people eat forbreakfast every day. If he enjoyed it as much as I did, I think he may have had other motives.

5. Potatoes-- Yeah, the Irish really do love their potatoes. No matter what you order in a restaurant, it probably comes with some sort of potato side dish. You are better off with fries or mashed potatoes than with coleslaw though, becausethat seems to just be a bit of cabbage mixed in with a load of mayonnaise.

6. Beverages-- Guinness really is better here. Hot whiskeys are delicious and taken liberally as medicine for colds and flus. Irish coffees are not bad either. Here I am enjoying one.

And here is Baz when he got a feather stuck up his nose.

Crackers

Keith and I have finally arrived in Rosslare, where we will be based through the end of March. For my part, I am relieved to be here, especiallyafter a slightly taxing New Year's weekend in Kinsale. We were invited to stay in a house rented by some friends, PJ and Caroline. There was a total of 15 in the house, plus some others who were staying in town. It was another boozy weekend; fun but exhausting. And then I started getting sick. I think it was about 3 am on New Year's when I thought maybe all this partying was going to take a toll on me. It has. I also blame Frank (or as people have nicknamed him, "Toxic Frank"). He has had a persistent cough for a few weeks and tends to stand a bit close to people in conversation. At some point I compared him to Typhoid Mary, but no one had ever heard of her. In my spare time I looked her up on Wikipedia and you'll never guess where she's from. That's right! Ireland! Anyway, back to New Year's Eve-- it was actually a good time. We had some trouble figuring out when midnight was exactly. We opened crackers, like in Harry Potter. I like crackers a lot. You pull one open with your neighbor at the table and out come items such as paper crowns, jokes, and toys. There was also singing in English, Gaelic, French. Most of the songs were traditional ones about better times in the past. The French one was about cannibalism. It was a bit strange for me, but I liked it as long as I didn't have to sing. Keith says "the Irish are mad into singing" and that if a party goes on long enough that's what it leads to.

Before I post some photos, here's a quick Baz story for you. Because we were moving to Rosslare after Kinsale, Keith and I had packed the car to the brim with our wordly possesions. About an hour in, not too long after we had gone around a traffic circle I looked to the back seat and a suitcase and several jackets and sweaters had fallen over on top of Baz. He didn't even notice I was looking at him because was holding his neck straight up, still trying to see out the window. Jeez Baz, why didn't you say something?

Woo Christmas!

Christmas away from the family is a first for me. Christmas away from home is a completely different story. My family is nearly always on the road or in the air around Christmas. It's always somewhere new, so when people ask me what the holidays are usually like I have a hard time answering. This year I participated in another family's tradition, which was fun, but it didn't have quite the same feel about it. I haven't even had one glass of egg nog...yet.

Yesterday I woke up to find pillow cases full of present for me and Keith outside of our room. Apparently that's how Santa rolls here. After opening presents I insisted on making eggs benedict. My dad would be pleased to know that the Hollandaise turned out perfectly. Then we went over to Keith's younger sister's home to have Christmas dinner (turkey, ham, mashed and roasted potatoes, stuffing, veggies, with plum pudding and brandy butter for dessert). Then presents were handed out, with everyone watching as they were opened one at a time. Pretty different from the usual free-for-all in the Allsopp family and rather time consuming. Keith and I got passes to all of the historic sites in Ireland and I got a cookbook and some cute little gifties from Rachelle's children. Afterward I played Wii with the new nieces and nephew, which is when I realized that no matter how much I enjoy Mario Kart, I will probably never be good at it.

Today is St. Stephen's Day. Usually everyone goes to the horse races, but this year they were cancelled due to the snow. As a result today will just be another day full of food, wine, and family-in-law. They have all been so nice and very generous to me, so I can absolutely handle another family gathering. I am, however looking forward to getting out and using those historic site passes. Overall, the highlight of today was remembering to open the present my parents gave me before I left for Ireland. Thanks parents!

Snow

When I first arrived in Dublin there was about an inch of snow on the ground. The captain told us the airport was closed due to heavy snow, but that crews were out clearing the runway.We circled the airport for about half an hour before landing. The whole thing seemed rather pathetic having survived 70+ inches of snow last winter in Maryland. Everyone here assured me that it hardly ever snows in Ireland and if it does snow, it melts within a day. Well, here I am a few weeks later in the midst of a 6 inch snowstorm and I am thoroughly convinced of what those people told me. Ireland has no idea how to handle snow. This is unfortunate because I love snow and it kind of ruins it to hear people complaining about the impending white Christmas. There is nothing wrong with snow, but not owning a shovel doesn't really improve the situation. Dublin doesn't seem to own any snowplows or rock salt either. The roads are insane here. Today when I was out walking I just started wiping the snow off car headlights. After having a windshield smashed in frontof my face by snow flying off another car's roof last winter it kind of pisses me off to see people driving around without putting any effort into brushing off the car. Fortunately, we are within walking distance of shops and friends, so I can enjoy the snow without dealing with the roads.

Last week was snow-free, so Keith and I managed to visit his parents in Carlow. Keith's mother took us to the local health club for a swimand a sauna, which was a nice break from the social activities I've been engaging in lately. I think I was sweating out booze in the steam room. Aside from seeing the parents-in-law, the highlight of the trip was the gallery of "young Keith" photos in the house. My favorite was this display, which is just so telling. See those people with their Masters andDoctorates? Those are Keith's siblings. See that guy on the beach enjoying a big plate of food? Now that's my husband.

December in Dublin

I've been in Ireland for two weeks now, not including a three day trip to England. When I'm not out meeting in-laws and friends of Keith's I've been spending most of my time in Glengara. Glengara is the name of my sister-in-law and her partner's house, located in the Dun Laoghaire (pronounced Dun Leary-- bet you wouldn't have guessed that!) section of Dublin. It's an old house with a warm kitchen and a drafty... everywhere else. In fact, as I write this Keith and Frank are frantically andsecretively caulking the windows before Catriona gets home. I'm not sure why they are afraid of her finding out, but I guess every family has its quirks. Anyway, it is a lovely and comfortable house in a good location for visiting the city and getting out to some nice walks in the countryside.

The kitchen table with a window seat that has views to the garden

Aga cookers seem to be very popular in Ireland. It's an oven that's always on, which helps warm the house and makes turning knobs and pre-heating a thing of the past! I don't really get why everyone loves them. I mean you can't set a specific temperature, so you actually have no idea how hot any of the various compartments are. I'm going to try baking a cake in it Monday, so we'll see what kind of issues I'll have then.

Puppy picture! You will be seeing a lot of these.