Home for Christmas

After a half-mile trek through gale-force winds and torrential rain, a frigid, damp bus ride to Galway, a scenic, 3-hour train ride to Dublin, a loud night in a Dublin hostel (Jacob's Inn!), another bus to the airport and an 8 hour flight to DC (complete with an overdose of Anthony Bourdain, a half-pack of dark-chocolate Digestives, 4 Dramamine pills, and a gaggle of small children kicking the back of my chair, pinching my arm and pulling the headphones out of the socket all. day. long.) I'm finally back in the US for Christmas.

It's so good to be back. I've already eaten twice my weight in Thai food, cheese, coffee and rum buns. Today, Elizabeth and I are going to the gym. I'm unusually excited. In spite of the thrill of seeing my friends and family, the warmth and coziness of being home at Christmas, the luxury of a tap with warm water to wash my face in, and working Pandora and Netflix accounts, I find myself missing Ballyvaughan already. I keep expecting to wake up there (at 5 in the morning) and drag myself into the kitchen to make a cup of tea before walking through the Turlough field to school. I suppose I should attempt to avoid such nostalgia and embrace the short amount of time I have to be here, as I'll have plenty of time to appreciate the Burren while I'm there for Spring semester. I can't wait to see my parents, Robert and Scout tomorrow afternoon. It feels like it's been so long!

Really, though. How could you not miss this?