I know I usually write about my trips and the things that happen on them. But, today I’m going to write about something different. It’s something that has been bothering me for a long time. So, here it goes!
In a previous post I talked about visiting my ancestor’s church and afterwards we decided to check out the town of Trim. I’m glad we did because I was starving! Before we grabbed a bite to eat though we took a stroll around the outside of Trim Castle.
All of my life I have been told I am Irish. Or at least part Irish. Before I knew just how much….or little Irish I am; I went in search of my Irish ancestors. I mean why not I was IN Ireland after all.
I can understand how Saint Patrick found God on this mountain. I can’t really describe exactly how I felt sitting on Slemish. It was one of the most peaceful moments of my life I do believe. I had tears in my eyes as I thought about how much my grandmother would have loved to be there.
I have to say that I am pretty lucky in the friend department. I am lucky in that they are so giving, kind, generous and just all around amazing people. Some of these friends I only just recently met and I feel like I’ve known them for ages.
Even though it was a fairly clear day the banks of the creek were extremely muddy and difficult to navigate. Somehow I managed not to fall down while trying to get to the creek. This was only the start to slipping and sliding in the muddy trail.
Only July 1, 2016 I was on my way to Ireland with my friend Julie. We had been planning this trip for years. The year before (2015) we had both finally left our crappy jobs at the nursing home.