Now that I've walked a mile through wind, rain and hail for a cup of SPAR cappuccino, I feel able to rewrite this blog post:

Although this week has been marked primarily by the end of the much-loved farmers' market, the expansion of our next-door Turlough, and a bad cold, I am still thrilled to be experiencing the West of Ireland this late into autumn. Life has been a constant repetition of hot tea (I think of Lucille Bluth every time), hot whiskey, room-temperature whiskey, instant coffee, cold whiskey, vitamin C, Ritter Sport, peaty whiskey and oil paint. 

We are all becoming connoisseurs of rain (soft rain, spitting rain, piss rain, sharp rain, diagonal rain, horizontal rain, ice-pellet rain, HAIL, cozy rain, God hates us rain, etc). It's really fascinating how many kinds of precipitation Ireland has to offer...and it's only been 2 months. 

In between the rain, however, is the most brilliant, warm, unrestricted quilt of sunshine that spreads over the bare limestone and lush, cow-speckled fields without hesitation. Sometimes a rainbow is thrown in as well. It's like living inside the mind of a manic-depressive. But it's beautiful in its unpredictable diversity. 

In case anyone was wondering, I do have brief spurts of homesickness. 90% of the time, I feel very much at home here. This is the country of my heritage (or a large chunk of my heritage), and I feel like I've been very warmly received by the people I've met here. I am told often that I look like I belong here (which goes a long way towards making one FEEL like one belongs here), and I've noticed that so many subtleties of social interaction in this country mirror the same subtitles of social interactions found in my own family back home. It's so interesting to be able to pinpoint the exact source of a family-wide personality trait and realize it's part of a larger cultural identity. But as I was saying, there are definitely certain parts of the US that I miss at times. 

They are:

• coffee shops. The frequency, the reverence and understanding of coffee addiction. People here just don't seem to understand. And cappuccino from SPAR can only do so much.
• Cuban food. I miss that cilantro sauce so much. I try not to think about it, but every now and then, the desire is overwhelming.
• Lowe's. I never thought I'd feel this way, and Woodie's in Galway is pretty close, but it's so difficult to get one's hands on masonite (or MDF) here in North Clare. At least at this point in the semester.
• Wegman's. I miss everything about Wegman's. Someone PLEASE open one in Ballyvaughan. A small one even. Just as long as it sells rum buns.
• wood stoves. The smell of burning peat is intoxicating and puts one in mind of Connemara whiskey, but the smell of a wood stove puts me in mind of Ironbound...which, although it's a tight competition, will always win over any kind of whiskey.
• Seinfeld and Arrested Development. I miss these shows so much, but even more, I miss being around people who find them as hilarious and relatable as I do.
• real olive oil and balsamic vinegar. Access to Oliveto olive oil has forever ruined my ability to use the grocery store stuff. SPAR doesn't sell anything resembling what I got used to using at home. 
• And of coarse, my friends and family. I knew this would be hard, but I didn't realize how deeply I would miss everyone back home. It's hard to wrap my mind around the distance. 

On Halloween the school invited the storyteller, Eddie Lenihan to come speak. It was an incredible night of brilliantly told stories about the faeries, ghosts, and other topics of daily life. One of my school-mates organized to have the evening in the castle. I was a bit wary about the cold-situation, but a fire was lit, and candles lined the room and the whole night was very cozy with the perfect ambience for storytelling. Afterwards we all went for a drink at O'Loclainn's. I can't think of a better way to have spent Halloween. 

 The combination of being sick, and the early sunset has kept me from walking as much as I'd prefer. This isn't a good thing, because taking long walks is my way of coping with stress, sorting through my thoughts and emotions, brainstorming creative ideas, and forming connections with whatever place I'm living in at a given time. Pursuing an MFA is very stressful, and I'm living in an unusually beautiful place, so any lapse in walking is bad. To remedy this, I took a short hike up the hill behind school (it was as long a hike as my weak lungs could manage in this state) and got some photos of early-November Ballyvaughan. I've taken similar photos before at the beginning of the semester, but I thought it was interesting to see town again so many weeks later. It's still breathtakingly beautiful.