Brighton was excellent. Vegan heaven. Okay, it’s not Portland…
Will I ever don any other footwear? Likely not.
New love
Goodbye, Julius
I got an e-mail from my mom today. Our family’s 14 year old cat, Julius, has been missing for 10 days. My mom is pretty sure he’s dead.
I knew I would be sad when Julius died, but I have to say I didn’t really expect the flood of memories and emotions that came along with this news.
We adopted Julius in July of 1995. I was eleven. Mom and Papa told us we could get a cat after we returned from our trip to Alaska that summer. Obviously, that meant the morning after our red-eye flight, I was already lobbying to go find our cat. We piled in the station wagon and drove out to Hooterville Pets in Woodinville, which I think is called Homeward Bound or something, now.
I remember looking at the cats and dogs waiting in their crates. I was especially upset by a pit bull that had some sort of medical ailment. He had little drainage tubes sticking out of his neck. Anyway, we observed the small cats and talked to them.
One little orange guy was particularly talkative and interacted with us right away. I guess that’s all it took. Before long, our orange stripey cat joined the crowd in the station wagon in his cardboard crate. On the way home, we discussed names.
I voted immediately for Orange Julius. Susannah, nearly 4, who happened to be in her ‘name things after foods’ phase, voted for Caesar Salad, (she already had a stuffed cat named Casserole and a toy dolphin named Soup, as I recall…). I’m not sure who figured out the names went well together, but before we pulled into the driveway, our new family member was christened Orange Julius Caesar Salad Diamant Bruck. For years after, friends would ask us to repeat his entire name and so they could remember each part.
With his name promptly shortened to Julius, our cat settled into our nutty household. He was relatively patient with our somewhat rough displays of affection and asserted his odd personality on a regular basis.
Not long after coming to live with us, Julius disappeared. We worried that he had slipped out the front door, and as he wasn’t allowed outside yet, we feared he was lost. After much anxious searching in and out of the house, the gathering dark made us decide to look again the next day. I remember being very upset and crying to think that our kitten was already gone. In my memory, I found Julius, but it might have been one of my brothers. Either way, someone opened the closet in the bathroom and discovered the cat curled up for a cozy nap in a nest of toilet paper. Everyone was alerted, and sleepy bewildered Julius endured much cheering and hugs.
Another distinctive memory is Susannah’s 5th birthday party, when Julius was extremely agitated by the flock of marauding preschoolers, so I protectively scooped him into my arms, whereupon I was dealt a very deep scratch in my hand as he leapt to the floor and out of sight. I still have the scar.
For years, if you came up the staircase in the morning, there would be an attack cat waiting just around the wall. If you were foolish enough to step onto the landing, you would be rewarded with a sudden flurry of movement as Julius flung himself around your ankles, kicking and biting. We took to throwing decoys, (socks, stuffed animals, little sisters…), onto the top step to distract him as we scurried past into the kitchen. Other times you could just stand on the lower step and peer around the corner, to see him lurking, until he looked up, completely puzzled and surprised to see your head looming above.
Julius was an indoor/outdoor cat, but I don’t remember him ever bringing us any prey. Maybe he ate them before he made it through the door, or maybe he was a bad hunter, but I’m glad we didn’t have to deal with discarded mice and birds, like many cat families.
He was very independent, like most cats, and also loved to sleep, of course. I remember one time my mom was driving us somewhere, when who should pop into the front seat, but Julius? We were certainly startled, but then remembered that one of the windows had been left open the night before. Apparently the warm carpeted way back of the station wagon was an irresistable spot for a nap. This actually happened at least once more, before we took to searching for the cat before we drove off.
Julius had hairballs, occasionally, and I loved giving him the medicine for it. The vet gave us a tube of this gooey brown laxative, that we were to squeeze onto the tops of each of his paws. The idea, was that the goo would drive him bonkers until he licked it all off. It worked. And it was hilarious.
After we moved to Snohomish, I saw Julius less and less. He was probably settling into his new surroundings and finding new places to nap, but I was also preparing to head off to Bellingham for school. I imagine he had a lot to explore in that woodsy area and enjoyed the solitude. When my family started acquiring dogs, he became even more scarse. I worry that he didn’t feel welcome anymore. As the years went by, his impressive size dwindled a bit and he started to move more like an old man. But every time Shane and I visited we were excited to see him and exclaimed over him, telling him how very handsome he was.
Julius, like any cat, was eccentric and independent, but I like to think that he was a little more good-looking, a little more bizarre, and a bit more awesome than the average tabby.
Goodbye, Julius. I’m so glad you were a part of our family.
25 and a week.
I’ve always loved birthdays. I love my own birthdays, but I actually love other people’s birthdays even more.
My birthday this year was alternately quiet and nutty. First thing, I checked my e-mail and I had all these sweet/funny e-cards from my family. Sigh. I’m going to miss a lot of birthdays this year.
I took the bus with a friend to the yarn shop in Santry where I managed to only buy 3 new circular needles. I felt very restrained. Back at home I steamed a boatload of vegetables for lunch and then ate a lot of dark chocolate. I was imagining for a little while that I ate that much vegetation for lunch because I was feeling aware of my own mortality. But, honestly, I just needed to use up the vegetables that were turning.
The rest of the afternoon held knitting, listening to podcasts, and knitting some more.
Shane and I were planning on cycling to Ballsbridge for sushi, but it was drizzly out, so I decided to go to a noodle place in town. Supper was good. Noisy, but good.
After food, we were wandering around, killing time, vaguely trying to find the theatre for which we had tickets, but thinking it was right nearby. So, basically, we’re 10 minutes to show time and we’ve realized the theatre is definitely not on South Georges St, where I thought I remembered it was. I call a friend with the internet, and we determine the theatre is on NORTH Georges St…..Great.
15 minutes of alternate scurrying and running later, we found ourselves at the show. Fortunately, they were starting a little late, as shows often do, and we settled in for several short plays.
It was nice. I hadn’t seen a live theatre performance in a long time. Some of the shows sucked, and some of them were really lovely.
Anyway, great day, a little craziness, yummy food, sweet friends, and relaxing knitting. I feel good about 25.
Windy Sunny Wanderings
It
It was a long busy happy day.
I made pancakes this morning before we scooted off to the co-op according to Saturday morning tradition.
Shane wrote poetry in the cafe while I went about my hardcore produce procurement. Today I picked up:
Spinach, celery, apples, beetroot, pears, oranges, rocket, pakchoi, broccoli, cauliflower, onions, carrots, garlic, ginger, lemons, grapefruit, avocados, green beans, and tomatoes.
This might last us a few days.
We dropped off our purchases at home and cycled on to Rathmines and Ranelagh for tofu, oven chips, margarine, crisps, pasta sauce, and pizza cheese (for Shane, of course). All the healthy essentials, y’know?
Back home for a late lunch and we were off again. On the recommendation of a co-worker, Shane wanted to go out to the Poolbeg lighthouse in Dublin bay. It’s at the very end of a long bar of land/wall. The sign said it was completed in 1768.
We bicycled and trudged our way out there and trudged and bicycled our way back. On the route home, we crossed a single lane bridge. I stuck my head over the rail to look at the water and observed three ducks paddling against the current. It looked like hard work, but they seemed to be enjoying whatever there was to be found in the water, as they repeatedly tipped upside down and nibbled around in the murk.
We finally got home, where I realized I had completely forgotten about the bread I’d left to rise, but fortunately it looked okay after 4ish hours on the counter. Oops.
I threw together some hummus and we supped at 9.
Days like this help me feel better about all the time I spend doing nothing. I mean, it’s really easy to forget those productive moments when I’ve been sitting on the couch for 5 hours knitting and listening to audiobooks.
It doesn’t really sound like we did that much today, I suppose, but I generally think it was a good day if I went outside for a little while or helped out somewhere.
Maybe I worry too much about being productive. I’m a weird cross between profoundly lazy and over-achieving. I guess I achieve amazing levels of laziness.
Probably the worst thing about Dublin
I like a lot of things about living in Dublin.
I like being so close to everything and being able to ride my bike and walk and bus and train just about everywhere I want to go.
I like that it’s flat and makes it easy for my lazy self to do all those things.
I like that I have two knitting groups to attend with wacky awesome ladies and plenty of addiction-encouragement.
I like that Shane gets to take the tram to work, or mostly to work. And then walks for awhile.
I like how many different nationalities of people live here and how it can be hard to find an Irish person.
I like how the street I live next to is like Charity Shop Row. Seriously, from the top of Georges to the top of Rathgar (the road changes names along the way), there are 14 charity shops.
I like that it takes approximately 2 hours or less to get anywhere in continental Europe.
I like that the food co-op here is actually still a co-op and not a big chain of overpriced supermarkets.
But.
Probably the worst thing about Dublin:
It is impossible to get a good burrito.
I’m serious.
What’s the deal, folks?
Creamy nubbly refried beans, zesty rice, marinated roasted tofu, zippy ranchero sauce, crunchy lettuce, juicy tomato, and delectably rich guacamole all wrapped in a soft chewy warm tortilla.
(Come to my house on burrito night and I’ll show you what it’s all about)
What are you afraid of, Ireland?
Shane and I have purchased burritos at a few places. We’re always disappointed. They always put something weird in them (chili? As in the thick stew?), or leave something crucial out, (no beans?).
One place, they had almost everything available as side orders, so I got most of the elements and we assembled our own burritos while the servers and customers must have thought we were nuts.
We make our own, now. There’s no point in trying elsewhere, I guess. But I keep hoping, for some reason, that a delicious burrito will smack me in the face. Er, mouth.
So I like living here. I will miss a lot of it. But I won’t miss this horrible, social-fabric-eroding deficit.
Give the people burritos.
Knitted Tea
I hosted a wee little tea party this morning/afternoon. Four of the ladies from Wednesday knitting came over for knitting, ball-winding, munchy, tea/coffee-drinking yumminess. It was splendid. And…the bread I baked to go with the hummus turned out beautifully! Much better than the last time, when I botched that recipe.
Anyhow, it was just lovely. Conversation was good, I used my electric kettle for the first time, and apologized and told my friend that I only have soya milk when she asked for directions to the loo. That’s me! Ever helpful!
Aaaaaaannnnddd! Rose Anne organized my yarn by color! It’s so beautiful. Hurray for craft-crazy chums and orange scones and peppermint tea on a crappy drizzly Dublin day.
Ooshe Visits the Emerald Isle
My friend Ashley came to visit for a week in March. I hadn’t realized how much I missed my church community until I saw her. She brought news of the goings-on in our congregation, political, musical, and otherwise. As I might have mentioned before, I went to a meditation service at the Unitarian church in town, but it was nothing like I’m used to at WUUC. The service was very god-focused and not what I was looking for. I have subsequently met a woman who attends the church and is a choir member. She told me that the quality of the service really depends on who is leading, and that it can vary quite a lot. I’m planning on going back, at some point, and perhaps even investigating the choir.
Anyway, back to Ashley. For some strange reason, the weather was beautiful the whole time she was here. We took advantage of this and walked pretty much everywhere and rode bicycles the rest of the time. Ashley is one of those wonderful folks who is really up to trying anything and will find a way to enjoy almost any situation. She hadn’t ridden a bicycle in at least a year, but we rode across town a couple of times and she did very well keeping up with me weaving in and out of traffic and ridiculous intersections. It was a bit scary, at times, for me, so I really applaud her for being so adventurous.
The first day, Shane accompanied us to Malahide castle, north of town. The castle and the village were lovely, as was the wandering between them. Sundays are sleepy in Ireland, but we were plenty entertained.
The next day, we visited Kilmainham Gaol (actually, I visited the tea room with my book, because I’d already been twice), and the Guinness Brewery.
The brewery is impressive. Apparently it is one of the most popular tourist attractions in Dublin. Normally, I would steer clear of anything boasting that, but I figured I should go at least once before leaving Dublin. Having been, I wouldn’t really recommend it to anyone but the most excited of Guinness fans. It’s basically a huge, shiny, expensive advertisement for Guinness. Oh well. At least now I know.
One thing I really love about Ashley is how much she enjoys eating. I mean, I love feeding people, anyway, but Ashley has certain gusto for food that is really satisfying to a cook. Shane loves my cooking, but it’s nice to get another perspective. Additionally, speaking as a person who pretty much eats all the time and is very interested in when she will get another snack, it was great to hang out with a person equally food-focused. She particularly enjoyed the abundance of tea drinking opportunities and took full advantage of them.
A couple of days in, we took a train to Cork, hired a car, and Ashley drove us through Cork, and into Kerry and the Dingle peninsula. This would have been challenging driving, even if you were in a familiar vehicle with familiar driving rules, but Ashley was a natural, navigating tiny-and I mean tiny- roads through the mountains in a right-hand drive car on the left side of the road.
I was very impressed. I only got us lost a couple of times… The scenery was gorgeous and frequent picture stops were needed. We lunched in Mallow, a really sweet little town in co. Kerry, with a natural foods shop for snacks. We rambled into Killarney National park and took a long walk.
That evening we stayed in Anascaul, a small village near Dingle, and drove around the peninsula the next morning, stopping for more pictures and to see the Gallarus Oratory and Beehive Huts. The huts were in somebody’s backyard, and on the way back to the car, we noticed that one of their sheep was in a little enclosure with two tiny lambs. Upon further inspection, we realized that the lambs had been born only moments before- the afterbirth was still hanging out of their mother.
Now those are some fresh lambs.
Back to Cork, with the car unscathed, we hopped on a bus back to the train station and settled in for the trip back to Dublin. The next few days held more wandering, board gaming, a traditional music session, and plenty of good food.
Saturday morning, I left early to pick my mom up from the airport, and by the time we returned, Ashley was herself on a bus to the airport. It was a great visit. Lots of hilarious moments, close calls, (how many times can two people manage to just barely avoid missing the bus?), and happy times.
Mom!
My most special lady is here to visit. She arrived last Saturday and she leaves tomorrow morning. I met her at the airport and we caught the bus home, and we pretty much walked and talked from then on. I guess I didn’t realize how much walking I do. I’m honestly not that familiar with the bus system in town because I really just walk everywhere. I’m afraid I kind of wore my mother out. I mean she walks the dogs and stuff, but this was a bit more hard-core. I think she might need a vacation from vacation when she gets home. Sorry!
Sunday, Shane, mom, and I walked 
up to the tourist office to catch the shuttle bus to Newgrange. After waiting almost half an hour, we were randomly informed that they weren’t running the early bus and we’d have to wait another two hours. Hmm. We spent the time drinking tea and a chai soya latte (yummy), and gawking at the enormous chocolate eggs at the Dunnes.
Finally, we got on the shuttlebus to Newgrange and had a lovely guided tour, picnic-style lunch, and a bit of museum viewing. Then I heard my name over the loud speaker and we found we were late getting back to the shuttle. I felt bad for making everyone wait for us, but very glad our driver had paged me.
The rest of the week was a patchwork of high produce intake, (I guess moms never stop telling you to eat your vegetables), walking, sleeping in late, walking, free museums, (there are some really nice ones in Dublin), walking, knitting groups, walking, game group…you get the idea.
Friday afternoon, Shane joined us for a trip to Inis Mor, the largest of the three Aran islands. We got there in the evening after three buses and a ferry, (the entire journey took approximately 8 hours), and it was raining. Great. Supper at the pub and we were wrecked. The next morning, the weather was amazing. Amazing. I still can’t believe it and I was there.
Shane and I hired bicycles and set off. Mom opted for the mini bus tour, which it turned out was very wise, as it was a challenging day of cycling and she actually got to learn stuff about the island from the guide/driver. Shane and I just sort of gleaned what we could from the minimal signage, waved at animals, and wore ourselves out with much more exercise than we’ve gotten in years. All parties had a great day and a very good night of sleep to follow.
We’re back in Dublin, now, after many more hours of transport, and although we’ve had a great visit of over a week, I’m finding it hard to face another several months without my mother.
St. Patrick’s Day KAL
Here’s my completed project. Complete with gold-colored pastic. Now I have to find a home for it.
Unsuspecting Visitors
Our friend Jacob arrived this morning, ready to explore Dublin. Well, he fell asleep, so maybe we’ll explore tomorrow. Jacob is the first in a string of 3 visitors we’ll have, each about a day apart from each other.
We’ve been looking forward to seeing our dear ones from home for awhile now, but I always worry about my skills as a host. Do I have too many ideas about things to see? Not enough? Will they get utterly bored with my cooking? I love feeding people, but I’m always a bit anxious about it, too. Oh well, I can always bake more cookies.
