Every once and a while, life gets busy. Or I get lazy. Or perhaps a combination of the two. Either way, I start to put non-required tasks on the 'tomorrow' list. Then tomorrow arrives and I do it again. And again. Heck, it's been a week, what's one more day?
Then a week ago, I had a random TV show playing in the background as I worked on my computer. My head snapped up as I heard a familiar accent. It was an Irish accent. Not just any Irish accent but a northern Irish accent AND IT WASN'T RELATED TO ME! I instantly had flights of fancy about a trip back to 'the old country' to visit my family and to surround myself with Irish accents from all over the island. Then sane Andrea reminded me of my current back account.
Some times being responsible sucks.
I've been missing Ireland something fierce (to borrow an expression they use) lately. This April will mark 10 years since I was last there. TEN YEARS!! I went every three years prior to that. With St. Patrick's Day, an Ireland post just seemed inevitable.
Then it got really long, like James Joyce's Ulysses long, so I'm hacking it up into a series of posts which is part of the reason I haven't posted anything in the last little while. In the mean time, here's me on the Giant's Causeway when I was 16.