Well, I think we’ve established that I’ve got some work to do when it comes to frequent blogging. But, the past it the past, so let’s move on!
Several weeks ago I bought a Groupon that gave me a good deal on one of Ancestry.com’s new DNA tests. I spit into the tube and sent it in figuring I’d get a report back filled with a mish-mash of various cultures. That’s what we Americans are, right? We’re the 15 bean soup of the cultural world, filled with a little bit of every kind of bean. I was pleasantly astonished when the results came back: 87% British Isles, 13% Scandinavian
So that makes my long lost relatives Vikings that emigrated to Ireland and/or Scotland, right?
It’s funny. I’ve always had a rather obsessive fascination with all things Irish. In college I took Irish-Gaelic language classes and Irish dancing lessons. I have an enormous collection of Irish music CD’s and take unbelievable pride in celebrating St. Patrick’s Day. Perhaps our roots do influence the person we become. It’s an interesting idea anyway.
I had the opportunity in 2010 to travel to Ireland with my mother and will forever be grateful for that chance. We had a lovely time and I left hoping I’d be able to return someday. This summer will mark my “someday” as I travel back across the Atlantic for my writing residency. This time, however, I’ve talked Doug and Jillian into joining me and I can’t wait to show them around the place I can’t seem to get enough of.
A couple nights ago I found myself searching the internet. That, like most people today, is not all that unusual for me. But the subject of my search was a bit off. I was searching homes for sale. After a steady diet of home renovation and house hunting episodes, I suppose it wasn’t too far fetched, except that I was searching for homes in Ireland. Yes, you read right… Ireland. Now, let me just clarify something here. There is no way in the world that I would be able to financially afford a new house right now, either in the US or across the pond. I figure we are so far upside down in our current home that I’ll be living here when I’m 93 still paying a ridiculous mortgage on a home not worth what we paid for it. But I digress. We can dream, can’t we?
I have visions of living in a little cottage just on the outskirts of a small Irish town like Kenmare. The southwest part of Ireland just feels like home. I wonder if they need any reading specialist/writers and tool and die project engineers in that part of the world? Alas, I will probably never know. Although I have told Doug in no uncertain terms that if we ever win the lottery (which we rarely play) then I am buying a home in Ireland. He thinks I’m a bit crazy, but perhaps our adventure across the pond this summer will give him just the perspective he needs to lend my dream a bit of credence.