a year goes by...

The 19th and 20th of February mark two very important dates for me.

I was getting off of an airplane from Atlanta on February 19, 2011. I had attended a conference that week to prepare me for joining OM Ireland in the fall. That week was a reminder of why God had called me to Ireland. But it was also a reminder that this was very real. I would be leaving for two years. I would be leaving my friends, my family, my niece who wasn't born yet. And then I was leaving someone else. Someone who had suddenly, what seemed like overnight, become really important to me. I had come to terms with leaving friends and family- I had done it before. But only a week earlier had I held someone's hand for the first time. For the first time, I had experienced liking someone and knowing they liked me in return.

I stepped off the plane, wondering what conversation I would have with Andy. Should we start something?  Why would God let this happen now? Andy picked me up shortly after I got home and we went to dinner. I remember holding hands and looking through the Yankee candle store while we waited for our table at TGI Fridays. At dinner I told him the whole story of why I felt called to Ireland. I don't think he knew it yet, and I wanted him to understand the importance I had to place on this calling in my life. I had to let him know that God would come first. always.

He was so supportive. He thought that was amazing, and was so proud of me. He made me feel such peace between us. That night we went for a walk through the USI campus. We sat down on a block of stone and had the following conversation:

Andy: i have a question to ask you...
me: yes?
Andy: are...you my girlfriend?
me: HAHAHAHAHA I don't know? yes?
Andy: does that mean I'm your boyfriend?
me: yes..?
Andy: okay good.

February 19, 2011 - my first boyfriend.

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My mom woke me up Sunday, February 20, 2011 to tell me that we were leaving for the hospital. My sister in law was having the baby. We jumped into the car, and that's when I finally had a moment to think. I said to my parents "I don't want to steal anyone's thunder today, so I'm going to tell you now.. but Andy and I are official."

When we got to the hospital, my sister-in-law's family was already there in the waiting room. Her sister, Annie, and I ran to and from the waiting room to the door to our siblings' room. The third time, we heard a baby cry. It was more exciting than Christmas. After the entire family was invited into the room, and I looked down at little Quincy Mason Chaudoin, I first got a glimpse at what unconditional love felt like. I loved her before she was born, and nothing will ever change that.

February 20, 2011 - my first niece. Happy 1st birthday Q!

put a CORK in it.

Ah, Cork City, Ireland. The second largest city in the Republic of Ireland, and the first largest city for awkward moments.

It was friday night, and there were four of us, Ludie, Lee, Kala and me. There was a missions conference going on, and we went to represent OM Ireland by setting up a booth offering books and information about what we do. We traveled by green van - as you can see in this picture, is a beauty.

After a lot of traffic and a side-trip stop, four hours later we arrived in Cork. We needed to grab a bite to eat, so Ludie, remembering a takeaway from a previous trip to Cork, makes Lee lean out the window and ask someone "Can you tell me where KC's is?" The lady says "you mean, that KC's?" and turns around and points at the building behind her. There it is. We stopped right in front of it. Awkwardly saying "yep, that's the one," we got out.

KC's is big enough for a line (or, queue) to fit inside and that's it. It was delicious. I got a polynesian chicken pita and it was so good.

We then headed to the missions conference, where we set up our booth. The first night, there were about 50 people there and the crowd got progressively larger with each meeting.

Saturday morning, we had another meeting until 1pm and then didn't have to be back until 7pm. Ludie dropped us off in Cork city centre at the English Market and we had the day. We got some sandwiches in the market, and walked for ages trying to find a place to eat them. We ended up eating them at the entrance to the market - standing up. It was raining outside and inside there wasn't anywhere to sit down.

We spent the day exploring the streets, small shops, and back alleys. Cork didn't seem too much different from the rest of the cities in Ireland, but then again, there are only six in the Republic. We went into Dunnes, which is a major Irish department store, where i proceeded to spill my entire water bottle in my purse, leaving a nice water trail everywhere I went.

Like all of Ireland, shops started closing around 5:30, so we met Ludie and decided to hit up KC's again since it was so good. I guess we went at prime time because the queue was very long. And the best part about it is, it's away from the city centre, so not too many tourists know about it i guess, because we were the only non-locals in line.

We headed back to the last session of the conference, then packed our bags and headed home.

off key.

It didn't effect me too much when the Irish said the Christmas season didn't traditionally start for them until the 8th of December. I still put up my decorations and tried not to play Christmas music too loud in the office.

It didn't effect me (although throw my whole childhood off balance a little bit) when I found out families from the Netherlands claim St. Nicholas comes from Spain and his elves are all named Pete and are black.

Those are differences that can be lived with. I've come to find out today, there is one Christmas season difference that can't be celebrated differently. Somebody has to change the way they've done things for years. Well, I guess you don't have to, but if you're like me, you end up sounding really terrible singing Christmas carols. I had to work my way through worship today, and it wasn't pretty.

I give you two examples: Away in a Manger and O Little Town of Bethlehem.

First, Away in a Manger. Classic American version


Away in a Manger. Classic Irish version:


Second, O Little Town of Bethlehem. Classic American Version


O Little Town of Bethlehem. Classic Irish Version

It's Christmas time in the city..

Locations: London, Dublin, and my little humble town of Roscommon.

City sidewalks, busy sidewalks

dressed in holiday style

In the air, there's a feeling of Christmas

Children laughing

people passing 

meeting smile after smile

Strings of street lights

even stop lights, blink a bright red and green

as the shoppers rush home with their treasures

the small things.

When one travels, it's the big things that bring the most excitement and pleasure: the new scenery, the mixing of different cultures, the different accents, the different styles of buildings, the hustle and bustle of life outside of what you know it to be. I think for a place to become a home - to become no longer an extended vacation, it's the little things that count. In your hometowns I can guess you don't smell the air, take in a deep breath and say "ah! would you look at that skyline." or "ah! would you look at those trees!" What makes life your life is what you do with it. The people you become friends with, a special meal, the excitement of new clothes.

So, I give you a glimpse into those things for me. Little things that make a big difference.

bonfire with s'mores and music 

new autumn dress

my new car!

Korean night - such good food

enjoying that food.

strawberries and creme with a nice coffee

"fancy a coffee?"

boat tour on the river shannon

snapshots of home.

Each of these shots were taken in about a 20 minute radius of where I live. (don't forget you can click on them to make them bigger. :) 

Finally a picture of who I live with!
 Lisa is on the left, and Andrea is in the middle. 

Portrunny (a port of the river Shannon)

classic. 

Thatched-roof cottage

we had to pull over so he could get by. 

hopefully no one comes over that hill at full speed...

our post office

Sunsets on the drive home from work

National Ploughing Championships

To the majority of my American readers.... "ploughing" is our word for "plowing." Like ... farming.

If you want to read a report I wrote about the Ploughing Championships, you can download it here.

Don't forget you can click on the pictures to make them bigger.

Over 190,000 people attended

Everyone wore "wellies" (rainboots).
And by everyone, I mean everyone.
Even men in business suits!

So many good samples! 

Prime place to see stereotypical old Irish farmers.

Baptist Association tent whom we partnered with

Ashley and Colm serving tea and sweets

Seong Bok and I trying out the face paint