We all have to be someplace...

Evaporate 2Jun / Condensate 3Jun

I have been in Ireland for 10 solid days. I have been meaning to write here the entire time, but I realize that isn't the same as actually sitting down to write. I started this post at 9:01am and I am still sort of sleep. I've been waking up in the middle of the night, going back to sleep until 12pm, I'm not entirely sure if it's jet lag or if it's just me sleeping it out, which is something I rarely do at home because there is always something tugging at me: me having to be someplace, a niece or nephew (by the way, a far superior way to wake up is having a small child climbing up on your bed and requesting "goofydonald" on your tv), the dog barking in my face wanting a walk, mom with a necessary task, my sister flinging open the door: "y'wan'go t'breffix?" (I could murder a plate of hash and eggs btw) and then there is me waking up because I feel like I should be doing something for someone, so I will get up and wander the house for a little before someone wakes up to keep me company.
Anyway, I am not going to complain or whine, instead I am going to look forward and be grateful that I have had the opportunity to do this: to go away for 2 months. People my age do what I am doing only after they have had and raised children and all of those kids are grown and off to college or raising their own families, or worked and worked for everyone else but themselves and then it's "FINALLY, I can ... "
I'm not a "Finally" kind of person. Never have been, don't think I really ever will be. I love experiences, great and small. They are all a part of the journey, they are the things that build up that store of memories to look back on when I am at the end in that nursing home, stroked-out, hands curled and useless, eyes blind and staring. I know I will be reliving the things that I have done because I decided to take the chance, or grabbed the opportunity, to do them.

Black Woman in Ireland - 10 June 2016

...And so here I am, a woman of a certain age, in Ireland, staying in a castle that is over 200 years old and it is an Art Historian's absolute dream. It is utterly romantic in the sense that it is a castle that is over 200 years old. The rooms are cold, and beat up but there are traces of what it once was. There are 4 or 5 rooms on the floor where everyone lives that have been made liveable, and they are lovely. The room I am in is he Earl's room, apparently no one has slept in here for over a hundred years until me, with my laptop, my music and camera-phones.
The view is astounding. I am on the 3rd floor, which is probably the 4th floor in everyday floors, I am almost higher than the tops of very large yew trees. Beyond them is a field where you can hear sheep or cows (I can't tell the difference because...well...animals sounds is not in my wheel-house), then there is a wall and then traffic. It's amazing.

From my window at 8:46pm - 7 June 2016

As time goes on, I will have done more research on the place I am staying and there will photos and pics of the place and the surrounding country.