Battles

I know I said I was done posting to this blog, but wasn't prepared for the reaction. A few gracious responses, to be sure, but some real disappointment was voiced. I'm not alone! It doesn't take much encouragement for me to post a little bonus for you all.

There was one minor item from the Great Wall of Planning that had just had to wait until we got home. For months, every time we crested the hill at the turnoff to Valleymount from Glendalough, we noted a little brown directional sign sending us to "Braveheart Drive." When I asked one of my knitting group about it, she regaled me with tales of how she and her husband dabble in playing extras, and yes, Mel Gibson's Scottish epic was partly filmed in the meadows in the Curragh. Indeed, when we visited Trim Castle we were shown the window through which the prince's lover was thrown in the film, and were told the Princess of Wales walks through the cloister at Bective Abbey. So we decided it would be fitting and fun to watch it, and a note was affixed to the wall. Ah, but the demons of time and vagaries of the Blessington Library's reserve system meant that we just never seemed to get to it during our time in Ireland. We decided it would have to wait until we got home.

But when we returned in August, we were distracted by unpacking, then repairing, then getting back into the swing of things. At some point, we found a video tape of Braveheart borrowed far too many years ago, and decided to watch it. Unfortunately for us, our video setup provided neither image nor sound: clearly something had been unplugged in our absence, and we would have to deal with it another day. I placed a hold on a DVD of the movie at the library.

I turned my attention to the Tulfarris book: Upon our return from New York at the end of October, there was a package waiting on the doorstep: the proof. Standing in the front hall, we all mobbed the book, and turned the pages together; about 20 pages in, Alfred voiced what we were all thinking: it looks dark. Discouraged, I engaged in a not always cordial back-and-forth with the printer, which resulted in my pulling the book from sale and correcting the brightness of many images. It may seem obvious, but digital images on your computer screen are much lighter than those printed on the page. I needed to learn how to use photo editing software and lighten up some images and correct white balance on wintery scenes. The results were definitely worth it, and we're very happy with the book.

Like William Wallace, Gibson's character, we fought two decisive battles this past week and won: the movie arrived at our branch library, and we scheduled the viewing for Saturday evening. We had to start early--it's long! And the movie is decidedly more gory than our book.

And Friday night before I went to bed, I uploaded the corrected book to the server. The link to the book has changed. But as an appeasement, there is a new, better discount code valid through November 24, 2009: enter BLURBHOLIDAY at checkout for a 20% discount and free ground shipping on any order of up to 5 books. It's a great deal, but expires soon!

UPDATE: An observant good friend has discovered that this code is apparently only valid for books you have authored yourself. I wish Blurb had mentioned this when they sent me the code, since in the past they have been shareable. My apologies!

Unpacking

It has been two months since we returned home. After an initial spurt of putting the groundwork of our lives back together, we have begun adding the layers of complexity--cello lessons, orchestra--back in. Unpacking started predictably slowly, as we took things out and either put them back where they used to live, or found a space for new items amidst the old.

One little boy immediately dug into the boxes of trains, and had three layouts running concurrently within 24 hours. The other petted the cat until her fur was all shiny, and got to work locating an explorer post at a fire station. We got a bit sidetracked with some DIY, as we were one closet short due to the spectacular failure of the front hall closet system (think winter coats and board games and puzzles). A new closet system was in order so we could move said winter coats from our bedrooms, making room for our clothes.

Before we knew it, we had barreled headlong into the school year, with book lists and back-to-school gatherings. Alfred arrived home, pulling three more overweight suitcases behind him. There were a couple of things that I had not brought with that I had asked him to tuck in, and he brought with a few other surprises. After four long weeks of unpacking, we finally piled the suitcases back in the garage, to let them gather dust, knowing that we didn't need to go anywhere--for a while, at least.

Which explains the new knife in my knife block and the Renault keychain for my car keys, and the pile of yummy sweaters on my shelves. A few items (including the fleece) will arrive via slow boat sometime next month, and we're looking forward to the early Christmas that will be. But there is one thing that I neither brought with nor left behind that I wasn't sure what to do with.

Though void of any physical presence, it had been a weighty part of my everyday in Tulfarris, as much a part of my day as rustling up some supper and traipsing through muddy fields. I'm talking about this blog.

My morning walks around the lake, with the crunch of the gravel under my wellies, cleared my head and awakened the Wicklow muse. But those walks and the hills are gone from my life, and even though I did finally get the pumpathon pictures up, and wrote a few tidbits, one morning I found the muse, like sand slipping through my fingers, was gone altogether. I felt lost.

It appears that others are having trouble letting it go of it as well: Traffic reports tell me that folks are still reading the blog. A few notes from friends and family wanted to know if I would keep writing? They wanted more!

A bit of investigating options led me to a book: a combination of the best writings and favorite pictures. With the boys back in school, I turned to pasting and cutting, flowing and trimming the blog to fit into physical pages. And so, while the Pacific Northwest rains darkened this morning's skies, I uploaded a beautiful book, full of shadows and light on green fields dotted with white sheep.

We figure that we'll send a couple of copies to our parental units for Christmas, and let others decide if they'd like a copy of their own. You'll find a banner to click on at the top of the page (or you can click here): To help sway your decision, use the code united at checkout for a $5 discount, and the publisher will donate $5 to United Way of King County. Feel free to give the code out or reuse it as much as you'd like.

With this post, I plan to reluctantly tuck this blog into bed, and let it rest. I do want to thank you all for sharing in our adventure. I will resume my occasional posts on tradition and sustainability in my original blog, The Full Irish. I hope you'll join me there!

UPDATE on 16 November 2009: After getting the bugs out of the production process, the link to the book has changed. Also, please note that there is a new, better discount code valid through November 24, 2009: enter BLURBHOLIDAY at checkout for a 20% discount and free ground shipping on any order of up to 5 books. It's a great deal, but expires soon!