Thanksgiving!

Stuffing and sweets, turkey and tryptophan:  Thanksgiving has hit Europe, in a big way.

Yesterday, in an effort to spread the gospel of over-indulgence across the Atlantic, as well as and stave of pangs of seasonal homesickness, the Americans of Dunaras Village banded together to throw a feast of epic proportions.  

We'd been talking about Thanksgiving since probably September - throwing out recipe ideas, promising to make it happen - and then began planning in earnest during the month of November.  I set up a Facebook event that we used to invite people and coordinate dishes.  Within a few days, the guest list had leapt from about 10 to close to 30.  Nearly every person invited said they would attend, and everyone who said they would attend actually did show up.  At this point, we were worried about there being enough food to feed thirty people.

I made stuffed mushrooms, chex mix, and baked apples.  The chex mix was the trickiest portion, as I discovered, after having bought half the ingredients already, that Chex don't exactly exist in Ireland.  Neither do pretzels.  I adjusted the recipe a bit, and ended up with something more like "Shreddies Mix with Cheerios and sour cream and chive pretzel twists."  It wasn't my aunt Jean's famous Chex mix, but it was passable.

My semi-vegetarian roommate somehow ended up in charge of the turkey.  Rachel and her sister came down at about nine on the morning of Thanksgiving and we all stared at the cold, naked bird in utter bewilderment.  First, we noticed that there were still some tiny feathers stuck into the skin... so we spent the first 20 minutes plucking our turkey with a pair of tweezers.  Next, we had heard that the giblets would be flopping around inside the cavity, and that we'd need to remove them.  So brave Erin rolled up her sleeves and... stuck her hand up there.  Except she couldn't find anything.  Some fat, some suspicious squishy stuff, all still attached.  She pulled at it for a while as the rest of us squealed at every squelching noise.  Eventually, we pulled a few red, gory things out, but came to the conclusion that turkeys in Ireland do not have the junk in them.

The rest of the day was a flurry of cooking and cleaning.  I scrubbed copious amounts of mold off the walls, while Erin dusted every surface and Dörte picked up plates, glasses, and cutlery for the night.  All of the Dunaras folks were invading each others rooms to swap pie plates, borrow cinnamon, or just hang out while things were cooking.  It felt very festive!  

We had one guest show up and hour and a half early, but beyond that everyone was right on time.  People brought food of their own... lots of food.  We never should have worried about feeding everyone.  Among other things we had turkey, massive amounts of stuffing, mashed potatoes and gravy, another delicious potato bake, macaroni and cheese, corn bread, stuffed mushrooms, roasted vegetables, pasta salads, green bean casserole, a variety of dips and sauces and bread and crackers to dip with, appetizers, and a steaming bowl of corn.  Desserts included pumpkin pie, cheesecake, trifle, baked apples, cookies, fruitcakes, chocolates, and more.  We were pretty set.   

I ate two plates of food, and went back for dessert.  I then sat in a stupor on the kitchen floor with the other Americans, contentedly groaning as people continued to mill around and graze for the next few hours.  Our two goals were to eat a ton and for people to have fun... I think we accomplished that.  The non-Americans were converted, and the Americans were able to find a suitable replacement for Thanksgiving at home.  All in all, a successful event! 

Rain, rain, go away....

...I'd finish the phrase, except I know that Ireland will take the words to heart and come again another day.  At that, why not every other day?

I might be a tad bitter.  It's rained every day for the past two weeks, I believe.  I know, I know, I should have seen it coming, but it still gets a bit old after a while.  Normally I don't mind the rain at all - wind and rain and all those things that make walking to the grocery a little more exciting. But right now, it's raining on my fun parade, so the weather and I are in a bit of a tiff.

Original plan for last weekend:

Saturday was to be a day trip to Sligo, for archaeology society.  We were going to hike around and look at old tombs and other sites.  To me, this is nerd candy.  Definitely on board.  However, I guess being on a high, exposed hillside when the rain is pouring horizontally in gale-force winds isn't what some people had in mind.  : ) So, no field trip.  

Sunday was meant to be a kayaking daytrip to the river Inny, for some more fun whitewater/river experience.  However, like most rivers in Ireland at the moment, the Inny was pretty much washed out and unnavigable.  

The bright side!:  I went Kayaking on Friday, Saturday, and Sunday.  My arms are killing me, but I'm happy.  Yesterday, as a recompense for canceling the trip, some of the people in the kayaking club put together a "day of Adventurising," including some paddling in the morning, followed by a trip to the movies and ended in the Salt House (which seems to be a favorite of the club, and which they have surprisingly not been barred from yet).  I was one of a few beginners who ran the lower Corrib at full flush... I kind of thought I was going to die, but beyond that it was quite the rush.  The rest of the day was fun as well - I hadn't been to a movie since arriving in Ireland, and the pub chatting to end the day was nice and relaxing.  Proof that Ireland can be enjoyed, even in dreary weather.

Right now, I'm gearing up for finals, and trying to absorb as much Galway life as I can while I'm here.  I'll keep updating... but probably not much.  : D

Quickly

Time is running way too fast.

At some point in the last two weeks, I've fallen hard for Ireland.  I was charmed by it before, but still getting used to it, and getting used to life in general.  I appreciated the history, and liked seeing the sights, and had fun in town.  At the same time, I was a little homesick.  But I think sometime in the last few weeks, my notion of "what Ireland should be like" fell away, leaving a clearer version:  the real thing.  I suppose loving a place is somewhat like loving a person:  the initial, intoxicating attraction can be there, but it's only when you actually know them that you can love them properly.  Suddenly (and maybe it's because I realized how little time I have left) I'm really resistant to the idea of leaving.  

Part of my reluctance probably has something to do with the amount of fun I've been having.  The last couple of weeks have been a long blur of socialness (yes, me, being social).  A lot of that is due to my joining of the kayaking club.  The members seem to live for two things:  paddling and fun (which are far from being mutually exclusive).  They're an enthusiastic crew, and as welcoming as they are mischievous.  

Today I took a day tour through Connemara with my friend Erica.  Even though we've been here for a couple of months now, there's still so much to see - and Connemara is practically in my backyard.  We took a guided bus tour through the rugged, round, steep mountains north of Galway, to the beautifully situated Kylemore Abbey.  The Abbey was originally a honeymoon present.  Now its a religious institution, facing a lake and nestled against one of the few wooded hillsides I've seen here.  Once I figure out how to add photos, that should be helpful!

We got a little rain, which now comes as no surprise.  It was nothing too drastic, but the weather is definitely turning.  I'm sure it's just gently prepping me for my inevitable return to Minnesota....