In the merry month of May, from my home I started...
I have a boatload of pictures. If I had a boat, you could load it with all of them. I'll post a few today, just to wet your whistle. You know, the one in your undies, you sicko.
I'm not sure where we were, but this is a good example of the everchanging weather in Ireland. It might look like this one minute and be gorgeously sunny the next. I've never seen such shuffling patterns, and I've lived most of my life in Tennessee.
This limestone desert was one of my favorite places. The wind blew over the rocky floor and kicked up an eerie noise, as well as a lovely wet smell. The guide told us that the people who live in this area tend to believe in banshees and ghosts. If you hear a banshee, it means someone in your family is on the way out. If you see a banshee, you might want to start giving away your Star Wars action figures. They also believe that some impish spirit can come and switch your newborn with a screaming, evil baby called a changeling. The only way to tell a changeling is to put a hot ember on the infant's chest and wait for it to either change back into the real baby or burn up in a fiery inferno. Sounds like next Thursday to me.
We stopped in Kilbeggan and visited an old whisky distillery. That's me enjoying a sample. Courtney gave hers away like it was her job. I kept comparing the tour to the one we took in Lynchburg. They were nothing alike, mostly because this distillery is no longer in business and was pretty much a one-man operation when it was running.
The Cliffs of Moher were the most bad ass geographical beaut I've ever seen. You could walk right up to the edge with no guides or fences to stop you or keep you from falling. I saw a few people scooting to the edge on their bellies. Once you walk too close and look down, your equilibrium goes batshit and you could easily fall to your stupid, tourist death.
Possibly my best candid yet. Courtney snapped this as I was coming back up from kissing the Blarney Stone, which is partially hidden behind my banshee hair. One of Lorrie Moore's awesome short stories prepared me for the kissing procedure, so I was ready to execute a back bend while an old man gripped my middle. Clearly, the whole thing made me happy. I'm afraid of lice, but infectious diseases don't scare me. I'm an American.
I'm not sure where we were, but this is a good example of the everchanging weather in Ireland. It might look like this one minute and be gorgeously sunny the next. I've never seen such shuffling patterns, and I've lived most of my life in Tennessee.
This limestone desert was one of my favorite places. The wind blew over the rocky floor and kicked up an eerie noise, as well as a lovely wet smell. The guide told us that the people who live in this area tend to believe in banshees and ghosts. If you hear a banshee, it means someone in your family is on the way out. If you see a banshee, you might want to start giving away your Star Wars action figures. They also believe that some impish spirit can come and switch your newborn with a screaming, evil baby called a changeling. The only way to tell a changeling is to put a hot ember on the infant's chest and wait for it to either change back into the real baby or burn up in a fiery inferno. Sounds like next Thursday to me.
We stopped in Kilbeggan and visited an old whisky distillery. That's me enjoying a sample. Courtney gave hers away like it was her job. I kept comparing the tour to the one we took in Lynchburg. They were nothing alike, mostly because this distillery is no longer in business and was pretty much a one-man operation when it was running.
The Cliffs of Moher were the most bad ass geographical beaut I've ever seen. You could walk right up to the edge with no guides or fences to stop you or keep you from falling. I saw a few people scooting to the edge on their bellies. Once you walk too close and look down, your equilibrium goes batshit and you could easily fall to your stupid, tourist death.
Possibly my best candid yet. Courtney snapped this as I was coming back up from kissing the Blarney Stone, which is partially hidden behind my banshee hair. One of Lorrie Moore's awesome short stories prepared me for the kissing procedure, so I was ready to execute a back bend while an old man gripped my middle. Clearly, the whole thing made me happy. I'm afraid of lice, but infectious diseases don't scare me. I'm an American.
3 Comments:
These are gorgeous. It looks like you guys had an amazing time. I like the bull on your jacket.
If I don't get my ass across that ocean sometime soon, I'm going to punch a changeling.
In that last picture, you look so gorgeous. You look like a shampoo commercial. I just want to grab your hair, and sniff it!
You're welcome to. Both of you.
Post a Comment
<< Home