Wednesday, May 30, 2012

Just One of those Days

Some days are better than others.  If cars had minds and feelings, I'd feel mighty sorry for our blue Vauxhall Zafira yesterday.  Juli had popped over to one of the local shopping centers to take care of some last minute details before we head back home to the States for a month.  On her way back to our place, she paused at the entrance to a round-about and was nailed from behind by a car who decided to make a run after making a hit.  I guess the offending party was in such a hurry that they couldn't be bothered to stop and do the right thing.  Thankfully, Juli was fine, but we can't shut the back door of our minivan.  And since we didn't have much of anything else to do before heading home, we can now spend the next couple of days sorting  out insurance, accident reports, and getting the back end of our vehicle functional.

Well, I kind of already got it functional.  Since we needed to transport some friends to Juli's and Jo's softball game last night, I came up with an ingenious idea - a shoestring!  Our backdoor is literally being held down by one of my old shoestrings.  And to think that I've always felt kind of useless in the mechanics and home improvement department!

We were able to get our friends out to the softball game, but our fun was just beginning.  Around the second or third inning, a lady walked over to the field to let everyone know that some cars had been broken into in the carpark.  I made my way over to see if our van had been victimized and at first I was relieved to see that though many of the cars in this small park had their windows shattered, our van seemed to be just fine.  And then I looked a little closer and discovered all sorts of goodies flung around the inside.  Thankfully the thieves were able to jimmy our van lock and spared us the added bonus of a shattered window.  Unfortunately though, Jo had left her laptop in the back of our van and as you might imagine, it was nowhere to be found.  Our friends had all taken their belongings with them to the field and so in addition to the laptop, the only other items stolen was our GPS and about 40 euros in cash.  The good news is that the Dublin Bay Packers won their game!  Just one of those days.  America, here we come! - Shay  

Sunday, May 20, 2012

Transitions of Time

I find the concept of time quite interesting.  You can always look at it from a variety of different angles.  For instance, these past two years have gone by really, really fast for me (and yet we all know that these two years have been neither longer nor shorter than any other two years in history).  And yet, from another angle so many things have happened over these past twenty-four months, two years ago seems like a really, really long time ago. 

I've told a lot of people recently that I think our work here in Dublin is transitioning from one phase into another.  Most life transitions are slow processes not unlike the sky changing from orange, to pink, to purple, to black as the sun sets.  And then of course that leads to the dark of the night gradually giving way to the rising sun of a new day dawning.  I guess I'm not sure where we are in this phase.  We might be transitioning to the night or we might be ready to awaken to a brand new day.  Either way, I believe some very good things are coming to and end and some very new, but also very good things are ready to begin. - Shay

Sunday, May 13, 2012

Not Even an Immigrant

It's been way too long since I've updated the blog.  A lot has happened in the meantime, but sometimes it's better to live life than write about it (although it's ideal if you can do both provided you don't simply supply would be readers or followers with the banal minutia of life - twitter?).

Anyway, Juli, Ashlyn, and I will be back in the United States from June 2 - June 30.  We are looking forward to seeing family, friends and to taking a break from this amazing life in Ireland.  If absence makes the heart grow fonder, then this trip should be good for us in both the coming and the going.

As it's been two years since I was last on the west side of the Atlantic, I recently jotted down a little poetry to reflect on our time thus far.

Not Even An Immigrant 

I'm still a tourist in this dirty old town.
I look up in amazement and amusement as I stumble around.
The buildings and abodes, not quite ancient, but old.
Their walls hold secrets of stories told and untold.

The musty smells of damp antiquity on the inside; the smell of cigarettes on the out
Resurrect nostalgic feelings, though I can't quite decipher what they're about.
This city's as young as it is old; witnessed in the architecture and people's faces - 
The noble Celt or Norman, or the darker and lighter shades from far-a-way places.

And I'm not even an immigrant - barely a blow-in - hardly a trickle, much less a stream.
But I joyfully slumber on, not yet awakened from the midst of this Dublin, Ireland dream.

- Shay