The land of my people...

If I tell you to say the first thing that comes to mind when I say Leprechauns?!...

...Ireland. Small. Lucky. Tricksters. Rainbows. Beautiful.

I said describe a Leprechaun, not me...

Well here I am! The land of the green. The land of the luck. The land of my people!!!! 

I'm going through customs, which is the 10th time since I've been gone. It's always the same thing, passport, stamp...hurry onto the next person. 

Not in Irleand! 

The attendant at the window asked me a series of questions in English! Thank heavens. Asked me where I'm staying, how long and if I could show the flight out. I told him I'd be staying on a sheep farm in Redcross and he says "Where is Redcross?" At this point I know I'm so far out in the booneys if the local doesn't even know. Just to put into perspective for all those geographically challenged followers, Ireland in total is about the size of San Bernardino County. San Bernardino county is huge! What do you mean? Yeah, for a county...not a country!

Anywho, the line behind me is growing and I'm starting to get anxious because my phone won't load my flight info out of the country. Meanwhile, he says "Had ya tried wifi? It's free here!" In the most wonderful Irish accent! ...so I'm hurrying to log onto wifi and sure enough getting more anxious by the growing line behind me. I'm being overly reassured multiple times that "ah, dontcha worry, they can wait no hurry!" He's also pulling up mapquest to help me find the best route there since it's over an hour away! These people in line hate you Shayna, how bout you get your life together...how bout YOU just sit back and relax little anxious one, were in Ireland!

I was able to conclude that I needed the bus to city center, a train to Wicklow and a taxi to Redcross. 

Bus--Check!

...Dublin--called for a beer! C'mon, give me a break this is the Irish in me! 

After my beer and a very confusing train catching...I end in Wicklow--check! 

5 min Taxi ride and I have arrived at the sheep farm!!! The family is just darling. Absolutely sweet and welcoming and corky. I'm in the kitchen talking with Selena (the wife) having a normal conversation and I'm really relaxed as I sip my hot tea...then her husband Alex comes in and not alone. Two dead ducks he has by the neck straight off the shot gun. (I'll apologize now for all you vegetarians you might want to skip the next paragraph) 

I try not to freak the efff out. It's normal. It's a farm. It's meat. Maybe they died a natural death. Please get them out of my face. 

...and he does. For 5 minutes, he comes back and the ducks are with him, except this time they are naked. All plucked and bare. What the pluck?! 

Yup, he adds oil and salt and roasts them up. Oh...I forgot to mention, I already had agreed to eat dinner with them prior to learning what was on the menu. What am I going to do? I don't eat duck. I've never ate duck. Especially one that I just saw WITH a head. 

Confessions of a scared and sheltered white girl: I ate it. Can't be any worse than that Guinea Pig in Peru I'm pretty sure I ate. 

I feel even more awful...because I liked it. 

The next morning I enjoyed the farm and all it brought. Horses, chickens, sheep, lamb, dogs...oh and donkeys. 

After a long and cold day of exploring I needed to go into town to get some dinner...I had a Guinness at the local pub and got some "chips" which are our fries. There was an old man sitting next to me and we started chatting...well HE started chatting. Story teller that's for sure. He tells me about his history in Ireland and his kids and where he used to work. He's about in his 80s...then he tells me about the passing of his wife. 2006. Following that, he tells me the Pope died the very next day and that he knows in his heart, the reason that happened was because the Pope had to open the gates of heaven for "His Angel" 

Hand me the hangcurchiff, the tears are flowing...

He was tearing up talking about how they met. It was such a wonderful experience and I'm so glad I sat next to that man. 

We ended the conversation with him teaching me how to say cheers in Irish! "Slániłk" well, I ATTEMPTED to say it...but if I'm being honest I couldn't get past the Slá...

I woke up the next morning to meet my mom at the airport, even though she insisted I didn't. Thank God I did...

In case you aren't aware, they drive on the OPPOSITE side of the road...so everything you know to be true, is reversed. Turning. Looking for oncoming cars. Seat belts. As if this wasn't enough of a challenge for my mother, she wanted to "save some money" with a manual...a stick...on the other side of the driver seat. Shifting with the left hand. Hell mothertruckin no! No no oh, and NO! 

I made her switch to automatic and made her agree to the extra insurance! Haha. I'd spend my last dime, I didn't care...we were NOT getting a stick shift. 

These roads are one car streets, with two way traffic...to say the least, she thanked me. (Actually she didn't, that stubborn determined woman said "I could have done it!" --after she just said, "This is BULLSHIT I don't know what to do I need to get out of this efffffin car!") Disclosure: the above statement is highly censored (Grannyma raised a lady, right?) 

A few bushes and curbs later and quite the extensive vocabulary from the profanity section of the dictionary later...we arrived! 

This picture sums up just about the only expression my mom's had since she arrived. Although, it's accompanied by tears of joy as well. That's the face when she sees a Church, a bridge, water, sheep, a normal guy just walking a dog, even...The Bank of Ireland. Haha.  

Over the next few days we discovered and drove all over Ireland. The green narrow roads took us through some unbelievable scenery. We kissed the Blarney Stone which legend has it, doing so gives the Gift of "Eloquence" mom clearly didn't kiss it good enough because eloquence was about the last thing coming out of her mouth any time there was an oncoming car on the same road she was on. Haha. 

We also went to Cliffs of Moher. Which were nothing short of amazing. No filter is needed and no words can express their beauty. But this is where I learned my blood nor my wardrobe is equipped to survive in this kind of weather. The sun is out but why can't I feel my face?! 

And to end the day...we went to Ireland's Oldest Pub. 

Mom got all Irish on me...ordering Guinness and a shot of Jameson. 

She did what Mom does best...and accomplished a mission that was set forth. Got the bartender to take a video so I could send to my best friend back home, we needed to find her an Irish husband. Since we already broke the ice with that nice and awkward moment...I ordered another Guinness and they actually let me go behind the bar and pour my own beer! 

That's my best friends new husband...I expect nothing less than to be the maid of honor. (In case you're reading! Ha) 

Bucket list update: 

Pouring a Guinness from the Oldest Pub in Ireland...CHECK! 

What a wonderful day to end my time in Ireland! I have so loved to been able to experience this with my mom...I know coming here has been one of her biggest dreams and how lucky am I to be able to watch her dreams come true? 

England here we come!