Adventures at Home and Abroad

I'm addicted to cooking shows. Chopped, Iron Chef, the Kitchen, Great British Baking Show, Great American Baking Show, you name it. I don't love some of the Food Network's personalities (Guy and Giada, I'm looking at you), but love, love, love Ina Garten. And the PBS lineup can suck me in for an entire Saturday. In honor of the Great American Baking Show, which just completed, I had to test a recipe I saw: Pear Frangipane tart. It's a Mary Berry concoction and it sounded like it would be the perfect Christmas day dinner dessert. And it was! This recipe is a keeper--not too sweet, delicious flavor, and not terribly heavy. Tart + whipped cream = pure heaven...

I finished my stained glass piece, my homage to Kauai, I suppose. Until I begin another one...

We've traveled to California for the Thanksgiving holidays every year since we've been together. Thanksgiving visits to my family, and Christmas holidays with John's. Most years, our trips include at least a few days on the Sonoma Coast. We stay at my parents' home at Bodega Bay, then spend our time wine-tasting, eating at fun places, and golfing. A few years ago, we discovered the Marshall Store, with its selection of fresh oysters (I mean, fresh from Tomales Bay, right in front of the place!). If the weather cooperated at all, we'd head down there for a perfect combination of scenic, peaceful drive plus delicious seafood. This year, we decided to make one tiny change. Well two. We made reservations at the Hog Island Oyster Company (just north of the Marshall Store) and we invited Dad to join us. He'd never eaten truly fresh oysters, only the disgusting, slimy canned ones that his mother used for her casseroles, so he was a bit skeptical. We ordered fresh, ...

After three years of intermittent work, I've set a goal for myself: I'm going to finish my novel by December 31. I started it in Michelle Wildgen's "Novel in a Year" class, and didn't finish. But, given the year I had, and my work travel, I was happy to be three-quarters along. Michelle gave me excellent comments to use once I restarted the process, and I've been thinking about them during my walks with Ellie. A move to Colorado, another year of work travel, and it just sat there. No more. I have no more excuses now that I'm "retired." My draft so far seems to focus on plot and setting, and shies away from deeper characterization. Well, because it's hard! I don't want to have to think that much about Elvira, and what she went through being married to an outlaw like Henry. On the other hand, I created them so I should be able to tell their stories in a more emotional way. I do agree that poor Elvira got a bit lost in the first draf...

There's nothing like starting a visit in a driving downpour, getting soaked unloading the car. Golf clubs, suitcases, and bags of groceries made it to the condo, mostly dry. Overall, we had a great visit, and spending some time with Lauren made it all worthwhile. She made us laugh and her Googling skills uncovered the absolute best lunch place in Williamsburg, off the beaten track. I think I ate the best sandwich of my life there. Our day in Jamestown was gray, but I hadn't been back in years, so the new museum complex was very impressive. I survived golfing with Dad and another man. My guess is he didn't play with women very often... My instincts said he was a Vegas mobster, but maybe I was being overly dramatic.

"Don't surrender all your joy for an idea you used to have about yourself that isn't true anymore."   --C heryl Strayed I should have this quotation tattooed in giant letters on my body.

In a moment of weakness, I told my Dad I'd meet him at his condo in Williamsburg, VA TWO WEEKS after we got home from Ireland. What in the @#$% was I thinking? At least Lauren will be there. Family commitments are interesting. Sometimes we look forward to them, sometimes we dread them, and a lot of the time we make them out of a sense of guilt, or duty. He's flying all the way across the country to play golf for a week. I suppose I can fly half-way for four days. But as a stress management activity, I'm renting golf clubs. I refuse to lug them all the way for one round of golf. At a minimum, I'm going to Yorktown, and I'm going to blast the Hamilton soundtrack. My tiny rebellion.

For the last year, I've taken stained glass classes at Glass Warehouse, on Broadway. When we moved here, I was shocked to discover there weren't many places for true glasswork and instruction. Yes, I could paint my own pottery, but that's not my interest. Apparently, during the last financial crash (2008 or so), almost all of the shops that catered to glasswork enthusiasts closed in the greater Denver metro area. But Glass Warehouse remained, mostly because Connie and her husband live above the shop. I love my class, and the instructor, Becky MacKenzie, is just excellent. She's taught me much more, and more effectively, than anything I learned in Madison. And, the Friday group is pretty cool. The women are interesting and not crazy and several are real artists. We had bad news yesterday. Well, bad for us, not for Connie, the owner. She's retiring and selling the building, and our classes will end, by early December. Sigh.

It's funny to think that John poo-pooed a trip to Ireland for so many years. I'm not quite sure why, since he always emphasizes the "Irish" majority (3/4) of his Irish-German roots. Perhaps he knew that once he visited, he'd want to return, soon. And so it is. We both loved this trip. The people, the gorgeous countryside, the sea. And the villages and larger towns, which hummed with vibrancy. It's actually a great thing that the sun doesn't shine as much as we seem to need these days, or we would seriously be thinking of moving. We lucked out with the weather, except for our first day in Donegal, when the wind blew a gale. Only a few spits and spots after that. Driving felt easier than in England and Scotland, perhaps because they painted a white line down the middle of all but the tiniest roads...psychological comfort, I suppose. We visited so many places, but I think my initial list of favorites include: Our walks. The breezy and chilly trek out ...

Once we arrived in Dublin, we knew there was one day trip we should try to make: to the UNESCO World Heritage site of Newgrange, the 5000 year old Neolithic ritual center and passage site. The easiest way to get there was via tour group and I'd done some research and discovered Mary Gibbons. The reviews said she was an excellent guide and very engaging, which sounded perfect.  We aimed to do this tour next week but she was fully booked when I enquired on Friday night. However, in a matter of a few moments, we learned she had a cancellation for Saturday, so we grabbed it.  The pickup spot was about 25 minutes away at the Doubletree. We hoofed it down there and made it by 7:45 a.m. First of all, it was a big tour bus, so John started getting hives immediately. (And muttering one-liners even before the main group of our compatriots joined us.) Once everyone got loaded onto the bus, including the Filipino family who held us up and the Italian girls who were late getting...

This trip to John's homeland has made for some interesting people watching. We've seen hints, or had downright eerie encounters with people who resemble (some very strongly) his family members.  It's so interesting that three generations removed from this small island, tue strong family resemblances of the Boyles, McCanns, and Cavanaghs. His grandfather Tom, his Uncle John, his father Bernie at the pub in Westport, a younger version of Marion, and her siblings. I saw John's brother Tim on Sunday, walking out of a shop on Duke Street. ​We've also seen all three of the O'Shea cousins.  And today's the lunch at Hugo's, we sat next to my old friend John Clarke, gone now gone from this world over 5 years ago way too soon. John, who reveled in his Irish ancestry, sat with me many evenings over thirty years ago at the Irish pub on College Avenue in North Oakland and introduced me to Harp Lager with a splash of Roses ...

Thursday was gray, so we decided to make our way directly back to the airport to return our car. In some ways, John was in heaven because after the first 45 minutes of our trip, we hit the M6. He wasn't quite sure to do with all that space! And the speed! Our little Scoda Citgo almost burst its pistons to keep up with the 120 km speed limit. The trade-off, however, was boredom. Freeways or motorways or autostradas or whatever you call them are boring compared with the smaller roads. No scenery to speak of. No quaint villages. Oh well. The business at the airport went very smoothly and we found the queue for the Aircoach in all the madness. A two day strike of,the bus drivers had begun and so there were no traditional bus services either Thursday or Friday. Thank gosh Aircoach was running! Eight euros to the Donneybrook stop and we were close. A short walk to 47 St Ann's, Ailesbury and we were there. Navigating the intersection was tricky, but we lived to tell the tale. ...

Planning a trip to a new place is always a challenge. You do your research, make good guesses about what you will like to do and see versus what to skip, and plan your itinerary. Then you take the trip and realize what you will change if you come back again. We will spend more time here, in this region known as the Burren. And, if possible, I will splurge for more nights and come back to  Gregans Castle hotel again. I chose to stay here for our "splurge night" instead of Ashford Castle, where we did the Hawk Walk. The castle was insanely expensive and seemed to be created to target Americans. This hotel is not cheap, but seemed like it might be a nice destination. Ummm, yes. The food was incredible and the restaurant was closed the night we were there! We were forced (hah!) to eat smoked salmon and leak risotto with a poached egg in its bar, a perfectly comfortable place (prior to cocktails in the drawing room). The horror! The B...

We decided to schedule one specific "experience" when we were here and it wasn't the typical one. No fishing expedition cycling tour, or boating trip. And especially no trips to Game of Thrones sites or the isle of Skellig Michael (the final scene of Star Wars). Instead we went on a "hawk walk." We picked the Ireland S ​ chool of Falconry at Ashford Castle and scheduled an extended walk, which included a private walk with a guide for an hour and a half. The castle itself is quite a setting, just outside the village of Cong in County Mayo. Yes, it is a castle...a place that Americans spend, at minimum $700 per night to say they stayed in a castle. I can spend money very easily (e.g., business class plane tickets) but I had no interest in staying at the castle with a bunch of obnoxious Americans. But we got to visit the grounds to access the school of falconry, so win for us! The school is set at the corner of the estate, in what appeared fort-like with ...

We knew how lucky we were on Tuesday when the weather cleared and we had an incredible, sunny day. We could feel how the staff in our hotel responded, and we could feel how happy people were, walking along, their faces turned towards the sun. Apparently they've had a terrible summer and have been hoping for a better September and October. We started the day with a plan and it changed--the best part of being flexible. Our first stop was at the site with two claims to fame: 1) it was the site of Marconi's wireless transmitting station to Nova Scotia (1910-1918 or so); and 2) the two men who completed a transatlantic flight in an airplane (Adcock and Brown) crash landed their plan very near this station, in the bog! They completed their flight 11 years before Lindbergh, and their names are plastered over lots of things in Connemara. We thought we'd be here a short while (how long does it take to read a few markers, right?) But it turned out that the site is very larg...

Westward again, to Clifden, the main village in Connemara. We had a gray drive to our destination, but the skies began to clear and brighten so that our sunset view at dinner was spectacular! We chose the Ardagh Hotel , 2 km out of town, mostly because it sounded lovely with a good restaurant. Absolutely correct on both counts...  The dinner menu is very interesting: an emphasis of local ingredients prepared using both French and Asian techniques. The first night I had a wonderful dish of local scallops in an Asian preparation with absolutely fresh and delicious local vegetables. We started with local oysters as well. Big ones, which we usually don't like but they were briny, not mushy.

After a few days traveling to and through the West of Ireland, I've noticed a few things, some completely obvious and some which may not be quite so easy to guess by an armchair traveler. First, the stereotype is true: so far, the Irish people we have met have been warm, friendly, and funny. This observation includes hotel staff, who are paid to be nice; restaurant owners, who make it their business to be helpful and cheery; and even teenage workers at gas stations (go figure) who generally could typically care less. Lots of smiles all around, even on a day like today, with gale force winds. Second, although I've been a passenger so far, it's my view that the Irish roads are better marked than the English or Scottish ones. Except for the narrowest lanes, they have center lines and bright yellow lines delineating the edges of the road. My driver (!!) tells me these markings make it much easier to figure out where you are, especially on the narrower ...

We just spent two nights at Harvey's Point , a wonderful Irish country hotel. It was in a lovely location on Lough Eske and we used it as a base to tour County Donegal and the Wild Atlantic Way. The entire area was gorgeous and not terribly touristy, which we loved.  We headed south to Westport today and the wind picked up and reached what I would call gale force by noon. Thank gosh we had a small car! It had to be blowing steadily at 45-50 mph and gusting higher. We hugged the North Atlantic and stopped at the Carrowmore megalithic site. I still can't get over how people 3500 to 4500 years ago moved these stones into position from wherever they got them. Lots of levers, I assume. They were placed as part of burial rituals, or so the archeologists tell us.​ We'd planned to visit another similar site, but the wind and threat of rain was just crazy, so we adjusted and visited the National Museum of Country Life instead. Two important things: this place had a tea room ...

Our first few days in Ireland have been relatively calm. I, of course, have taken longer to acclimate to the time zone change than John. He sleeps any time, any where, which makes me cranky, especially at 2:30 a.m. But I'll survive. Our first hotel, in Trim, was ordinary, but acceptable. The location, however, about 45 minutes from the Dublin airport, in a small village with a very ancient castle, was a perfect introduction to the land of John's "people." We were able to pick up the car, navigate there, and check into our hotel, and not even say a cross word. In my next life, I'm going to be able to function on 2-3 hours of poor sleep. We wandered through the castle, ate a very mediocre late lunch, and found a pub. And also found some of John's relatives, sitting at the bar. Eerie. (Not really, but the resemblance to Bernie and Tim were uncanny.) On to Donegal...

Planning for our Ireland trip has been more challenging than I thought it would be. I really knew nothing about the country, or next to nothing. But lots of maps and weeks of reading Tripadvisor have  helped me become more comfortable with our itinerary and the realities of what we could accomplish in two weeks. We've started the countdown to our departure date now!