Where Am I Going Again?

As I mentioned on twitter this afternoon, when I pack I am sort of like a dog circling a spot before lying down. Only my ritual seems to involve spinning around for hours. Packing has the tendency to flare up an attention deficit problem and I find myself vacuuming, baking, cleaning my hard drive, flossing, and online shopping while stuffing random articles into my suitcases.

This trip home is exciting and a little unsettling at the same time. I haven't been back to Canada for Christmas since 2008 so naturally I am looking forward to watching some crisp moonlight snowfalls with the Nana Mouskouri Christmas album playing in the background. I can't wait to see my mom, Tobie, his family, my good friend Liz...the Arab grocery store in Montréal that I love.

The unsettling part is that I don't know how long I am going for, and where I'll be for January. It is a little difficult to pack when you don't know if you'll be spending a month in Arizona or Nunavut, a GP office or an O.R. We're talking a lot of variety here. Heels? Hikers? Nylons? Blouses? Scrubs? Sneaks? Not to mention which books I'd bring based on the place / rotation. I am still trying to arrange something but my most recent lead is looking unlikely now as well. I found out this week that I also didn't get any electives at the University of Ottawa for the summer. Have I mentioned that I am tired of feeling like a medical pariah an outcast? Is this blog post turning into a pity party? Maybe...

So now, instead of coming back to Ireland at the end of January it looks like I might be flying straight back after New Years. Sigh. I just want an opportunity to learn, and to get some hands-on experience.  It is really disheartening to constantly feel doors close in my face when I am working hard and putting myself out there. It is true that at every turn medicine asks, how badly do you want this??

OK. That is enough whining. 


On a happier note...the ginger cake that I made today turned out beautifully. I may be turning a corner in this whole baking thing. Yes, yesterday my kitchen did look like I'd had a seizure in it while holding a bag of baking soda and I probably ate 4000 calories of "broken" brownies oh I can't bring the broken ones to the Christmas party...but with each event the baking part gets a little easier and the results get a little more edible. Maybe I should try to get an elective at a pasty school...hmmm...

Little Things, Like Spicy Pickled Eggplant

"I'm Paul Kennedy, and this...is Ideas"

Because sometimes it really is a collection of little things that make me oh so happy.

The Blackbear Has Landed

It was an uneventful return voyage home to Ireland, overall.

The main thing that cast a long dark shadow on my layover in Heathrow was Aer Lingus (a.k.a Aer Pirates) charging me £260 for my 'excess' baggage weight. Yeah, apparently you are only allowed 20kg IN TOTAL on flights from the UK to Ireland. So naturally I was overweight (ahem!) because I had two 23kg suitcases. The strange thing is every single time I've taken this route that is how much luggage I've had, and this is the first time they've jerked me around and robbed me blind IN STERLING.

I called the baggage department today to plead my case and was informed that the complaints department can only be contacted by FAX or snail mail. Actually. It boggles the mind. So rather than getting in touch with Horatio and asking him to deliver my concerns post haste, I will just use my tiny blog to say

Aer Lingus is the worst airline in the world. Never fly Aer Lingus. Ever. Unless you like being robbed by a woman in a bad green suit with too much makeup on. 


When I arrived in Limerick I bumped into a mother /daughter duo from California at the airport who were heading to my neck of the woods, so I offered them a lift. They were great company for the long drive and kept me awake for the duration despite my lack of sleep for >30 hours.

And now I am here, sorting and unpacking, assembling and organizing.

When I went to buy some breakfast staples I caught myself frozen with a vacant stare directed towards the milk aisle, remembering the weekly argument that Tobie and I would have over whether to get low fat or regular coffee cream. Loneliness comes crashing down hard when you least expect it.

OK OK OK I promise not to make this blog an homage to Tobie and a constant whine about how much I miss him. I am back in the hospital in 3 days which means I'll have plenty to whine about soon enough.

I am actually getting a little scared. What should I wear? Who will my consultant be? Where will I park? Is the cafeteria food edible? A tiny tiny part of me is also excited. But I really have no idea what being a medical student on clerkships in Ireland is all about. So I am mostly scared.

It's going to be an interesting ride*, that I am certain of.

Tomorrow I am driving back to Old Town Where The University Is to say hello and goodbye to some of my classmates who are now scattered around the Eire, also getting ready to start placements.

Hello 3rd year.

*I really need to drop that word entirely from my lexicon.

Leaving On A Jet Plane

Tobie just dropped me off at the Ottawa airport. I will admit that I feel a little nauseated and quite sad. We're not exactly sure when we'll be seeing each other again but the earliest time is December. This is the first time that heading back to Ireland has been painful. I feel like a little kid about to have a tantrum, at the security gate I wanted to throw everything down and kick for a few minutes.

I enjoyed my summer here so much despite the fact that I spent so much of it in the study hovel. Getting to spend time with my family, dear friends, cherished mountains, favorite grocery stores...it was hard to pack my bags this morning.

Tobie and I are ready to build our lives together...inane things like buying colanders or walking to the store for milk. We're at the nestling and nesting stage and we're facing the reality of 2 years in different countries. We are both trying to be positive but it is going to be a very challenging time.

I'm hoping that the 13 episodes of Parks and Recreation I downloaded keep me from becoming a slobbering mess on the flight to London.

My Little Shout Out

Tobie...Master Violist!

In about 3 hours Tobie will be playing a concert which is the final exam for his Masters in Orchestral String Performance. I am, of course, bursting with pride and excitement on his behalf. I have seen his dedication and discipline with hours of solitary rehearsal, six days a week, for the past 2 years.  He's so amazing, I had to make a little shout-out post on his behalf.

My only little twinge of sadness is that this marks the end of his time in Ireland, with me staying on for two more years. I am also disappointed that I wont be there for this big performance. I'd love to be in the front row...with a giant smile on my face and tiny prayer in my heart.

I am sure he'll play beautifully. I did get to see his dress rehearsal performance. A link if you'd like a taster.

Good luck, Tobie! xo

New Irish Digs

So, life as I know it back in Ireland is about to change quite a bit. If you've been reading for a while you will know that I am (not officially) done with pre-clinical medicine. Provided I passed the recent exam gauntlet, I'll be starting my hospital rotations on Aug 2nd in a new city (and not a moment too soon, honestly I think I am about to get 'office chair' sores from sitting and staring at textbooks all day long for the past two years.)

Pretty sure that for every month of pre-clinical medicine in the world an angel loses it's wings.

Anyway, I know very little about my new city except that there is a decent coffee shop, a giant Tesco, and no yoga studio. Well, 2 out of 3 ain't bad I suppose. My casa novo is about 7kms out of town on some crazy Irish road (and by 'road' I mean 'ruts wide enough for a carriage') and I love it.

It's so CUTE! Don't you just want to pinch it's cheek?

Front 'mud' room. Plenty of room for all my raincoats.

Front hall. Riveting isn't it?

Yes, yes I will be drinking cosmos* in my scrubs after a long day of holding retractors!

This is the view from the chair where I will be drinking said cosmos.

Oh hello, furniture that isn't made of flame retardant pleather! It's about time!!

Two words: gas stove. BAZIIIIIINNGG!!

Laundry room off the kitchen, complete with toaster. There is also a small bathroom attached. I think the drying rack really ties it all together. 

Guest room with ensuite. Never thought I'd have a giant felt flower in my home.

Guest room bathroom. Can't you just hear the Zamfir pan flute music that I will be pipping into the room when there are visitors?

My room. I like to sleep in bedside tables.

View from my room.

Kristina's room. She prefers a bed to sleep on, that is why we are so well matched as roommates.

Upstairs bathroom.

Kristina realizing she is tiny enough to live on the landing.

Across the street. Awwwww yeah!!! No annoying kids shooting hoops while I am trying to sleep off a nightshift!

View from the 'road'.

Needless to say, now that I am out of student accommodation people are actually considering coming for a visit! Kristina is only staying for a semester so not sure what will happen after Christmas. Maybe I'll turn it into a B & BYO Breakfast or something and charge 200 Euro a night. We'll see.

The part that I am trying not to think about is that young Tobington will not be living there with me. Because I mean really, what could be more romantic than living in a beautiful new house in the Irish countryside together?

Apparently living in separate countries. Le sigh.

---

*I don't actually drink cosmopolitans usually, I am more a dirty martini kind of girl, but I think the pink livingroom is going to drastically increase my consumption of beverages topped with tiny umbrellas or large pieces of fruit.

Still Alive, With Questions

I am still alive, have not thrown myself into the Majestic River Shannon or anything. Just been packing, sorting, moving, driving, packing, driving, flying, unpacking, sleeping.

And I have some burning questions that need to be answered:

1) Why is there always ONE guy in every airport departure lounge with a bluetooth talking 'business' in the loudest voice possible? Why is someone named 'Roger' always 'cc'd on the email' and 'crunching numbers'?

2) Why is it that whenever I wear a white shirt I suddenly lose motor control of my lower lip when eating?

3) Why is it impossible to fall asleep after being awake 24h?

4) Why is it, despite my best intentions to be more organized, every time I move there is always a few boxes at the end which contain a smattering of cleaning products, textbooks, underwear, spatulas, highlighters, hair products, face cloths, and organic quinoa?

5) Why are yoga instructors always ridiculously gorgeous and in perfect shape?

6) How am I going to survive two years living in Ireland without Tobie?

7) Why do airplane movies always make me cry?

8) Why did I think doing a triathlon this summer was a good idea?

I am actually working on a for realz post right now about the HELL week that was exams. But for now, I leave you with the questions I have been pondering for the last couple of days.

Medical Gods Give Me Strength (and a photographic memory, please)

When I get really whiny about how hard it is to try and remember 2 years worth of curriculum I try to remind myself of the fact that it is a priveledge to study medicine. Really, it is. I know that there are hundreds (thousands?) of people that would gladly trade places with me this instant if it were possible.

This normally gets me re-motivated to try and remember things like the stages of herpes infections.

Not today. Partly because my exams for school start in 3 days and partially because I still have forty three more groundhog days of picking my clothes up off the floor and padding into an office at 0630h, only to emerge for feedings and the odd burst of exercise, then collapsing back into bed at midnight. Wicked pisser summer, hey??! Yep.

I chose this. I chose this! I chose this?!?

---UPDATE---

Just as I was writing the last sentence, Tobie returned from the Farmer's Market with gifts for me!! Ok, before you all start going "awwwww" I will point out that as he was leaving I asked him to please get me some presents because I was losing the will and that I would reimburse him for any expenses said presents would incur. And so, I am now the proud owner of the Joseph Joseph Chop2Pot Plus cutting board!! Yippeeeeee!

The way to this girl's heart is through kitchen gadgets.

He also got me my favorite (though normally banned from consumption due to the fact that it is pretty much PURE BUTTER AND ALMOND) croissant from the bakery, and some organic kale from our favorite local Herb Man*. So that got me through the evening. He's pretty sweet alright and wouldn't let me pay him for the gifts after all. I think I must be getting hard to live with these days because last night I was tormenting him about something to which he said, "don't you have to go and memorize a bacteria or something??"

Yes, yes I do.

Back to it!!

*No the end of that sentence is not a euphemism for other green leafy substances...I need every brain cell I've got at this stage of the game.  

Blowout Fracture

Tobie often comes into the office and looks over my shoulder at what I am studying. Usually his gaze can only be held on the screen for a millisecond before he shudders and freaks out and the "disgusting images I stare at all day".

Yesterday he meandered in and saw the article I was reading on blowout fractures (which is a type of fracture that occurs from facial trauma, usually fracturing the orbital bones +/- zygomatic arches).

Orbital Floor Fracure image from emedicine.com

Tobie: Blowout fractures? What is that? Wait, is that like when a dude who is running to avoid the cops for missed child support payments slips on a pack of Craven-A's and breaks his arm?

Me: Pretty much.

Dude who has probably had a blowout fracture.

End of An Era

So Thursday marked the end of an era in our lives.

Tobie had his final lesson with his master's supervisor. I am not sure if I am allowed to say who he is, on the blog, so let me just point out that the guy is kinda a big deal in the viola world. And he knows it. And he is very, very demanding and hard on his students. And not in an inspiring Dead Poets Society kind of way but more in a Scarface fear for your life kind of way.

So naturally we had to celebrate Tobie's final lesson, though it was a bittersweet celebration as it also makes us realise that Tobie is getting closer to moving back to Canada, and I am merely getting closer to spending another two years (minimum) here.

But hell, we had the Champagne. And if nothing else, having good Champagne is a reason to celebrate. The last time I tasted those particular bubbles was the night of my MCAT, and oh they were sweet that night as well. I discovered these particular (very hard to find) bottles in Galway a few months back and excitedly bought two, one for Tobie's last lesson and one for my end of exams.


Step one: change into a relaxing suit. If you can't drink fine alcohol together in your pajamas, something is not right.  

Step two: note the not-so-smiling face of Veuve Clicquot. She should have been smiling. After her husband died she took over the business and made it a raging success...and this was in the days when it wasn't proper for women to be involved in man work. Go Veuve Clicquot!!

Step three: pop your first bottle of Champagne off the deck, have your girlfriend catch the moment, by
chance, in the sweetest cork-popping action shot ever.

Step four: find a water glass and the one remaining wine glass that you still own, and get down to business. C'mon, give us a break, we are still students, after all...

Step five: Sláinte! (And spend the rest of the evening trying not think about a final performance that is still looming, or exams, or the fact that you will soon be living very far away from your beloved).

Nostalgia Revisted: Promised Patty's Day Pics

Remember how my good friend, Cathy and her hubby, Nate, recently came to visit from Amar-ica and happened to be here for St. Patrick's Day? Well, at the time I didn't post the photos, but clearly some needed to see the blog light of day.

Prior to St. Patty's we also got up to all kinds of shenanigans which might be featured in future posts: eating-in-the-car picnics, visiting abandoned Work Houses, seeing the Cliffs of Moher, and some near-death experiences too.  For example, when I was almost hit by a giant tour bus while taking Cathy and Nate's photo. Note the looks of trepidation mixed with excitement. Also note they are in no way alerting me to the oncoming bus as I step farther back to take a photo of them holding their first official "Burdock's Fish and Chips" meal.  

"Er...Nate? Is that bus going to hit us as well?"

Crisis averted, both the smoked cod and I remained in one piece (ahem) and we were able to carry on with our touristy photo shoot. It was around this time that we started noticing people in Dublin getting pretty excited for St. P's day even though it was several days away. Lots of hats were already being sported, fake beards (did you know Leprechauns have beards??) and green sequins. We thought we should get some costumes in order.

 

But not until we saw Iron and Wine in concert. Oh, and the lead singer walking down the street before the show. You just can't be walking down the street with a balding pompadour and a crushed red velvet jacket and not expect someone to notice you. Of course, by the time I was confident it was definitely him, he was well up the street and I realised I didn't know his actual name. What was I going to yell:   

"Hey! IRON AND WINE GUY!!! Er...WICKED!!!"???

Iron and Wine Guy

The thought did cross my mind, I will admit. The concert was great and his new record is very much a departure from anything he's released in the past--big sound and very peppy.

But we had hats to find.

Two that didn't make the cut. I am referring to the hats, people.

After haunting every authentic "Made in China" Irish goods store we could find, and trying on a multitude of ridiculous items we settled on our St. Patty's day outfits. And they were grand indeed. Cathy almost bought a giant, solid silver skull at one point in a strange goth-Irish-souvenir store. I blame jet lag on her momentary loss of shopping reason.

The Cowgirl, Abe, and Jaunty Cap head to Killaloe.

We met up with Ryan and then were easily spotted by our Irish friends, despite the parade crowds...why you may ask?? Mostly because we were the Only. People. Dressed. Up.

Yeah, except for a few 5 year old's wearing green GAP sweatshirts and people who clearly had gone off their meds for the holiday weekend, we were the only ones that really took the days theme to the next level. Turns out, only people in the big cities really get gung ho about the dressing up thing. Yeah, people were taking pictures of us at the parade. Including a reporter from an English newspaper. Oi.

I have no idea what is happening here.

My only regret: not buying a jaunty hat like Cathy's...

Walking to the pub after the parade, along with the rest of the town.

Ok something needs to be said about the fact that Nate looked freakishly like both an unemployed Leprechaun in a tuxedo-t-shirt AND Abe Lincoln. That has got to be the most dichotomous costume combo to ever be successfully pulled off, yet pull it off he DID (the theoretical combo not his costume).

Lucky charms or a house divided against itself? You decide.

Rosie rocking my cowboy hat so much harder than I ever could.

After the parade and pubbing we retired to my friend Emma's house for a wee gathering. The noisy bustle of child minding, feasting, cooking, and beer-drinking went into the night, and it was a heck of a swell night. And now ye have seen what becomes of Canadians and Americans who find themselves dressed in green in a small town in Ireland, on St. Patrick's Day.

FIN (not quite)

I Think I'll Have Bay Leaves and Lemon Water for Dinner...

 

Today I opened my fridge today laughed at how ridiculous the contents were. Apparently Tobie and I mostly survive on condiments and fresh bay leaves. And eggs. It looks like the inside of a bachelors fridge. 

Ok, maybe a bachelor who likes ethnic foods. Or an ethnic bachelor. I don't even know what that means.

Computer Savvy

My shiny new external hard drive arrived today, it is a 1 terrabyte USB 2.0 WD and it only cost me 43 GBP! (Remember when external hard drives cost like $200 and only stored the memory equivalent to an ipod?) 

Anyway, I was excitedly unwrapping it when Tobie asked how much memory it had.

Me: It holds a terrabyte of memory.

Tobie: How much is a terrabyte?

Me: About 1000 gigabytes...so that is about...um (trying to think of a way to quantify memory size in a meaningful way to someone who only bought his first lap top in the past 2 years).

Tobie: About 1000 computers worth of space?

Me: Pretty much.

God he's adorable.

Really, I love his lack of techie skills because it also means he is not addicted to the computer, he is never texting when you want to actually talk about something, and he never has his cell phone on the table. Love. Love. Love.

Good Thing He's So Darn Cute

On Friday I am flying back to Canada to see my family for Easter and CAN'T HARDLY WAIT!!!

Oh I am so looking forward to cuddling the baby twins, reading stories with my nieces, bike riding with my nephews, drinking wine with my sibs, and catching up with my mom. Just found out today that my BFF is also flying out for 2 days so I can see her avec baby-bump! Ah, 'tis grand so it is.

As I started mentally going through things to do before leaving Young Tobington here alone for 9 days, I remarked to him,

"Hey Tobes, I guess I am going to have to show you how to work the washing machine before I go so that you'll have some clean clothes when I am gone..." [snicker]

"I know how to work the washing machine!" [indignantly]

"Why don't you ever use it then??" [genuinely curious]

"Because you like doing laundry and I didn't want to ever take that away from you. It makes you feel like you've accomplished something!" [completely sincere]

Good thing he's so darn cute or the feminist in me might have strangled him with a bra hot from the dryer.

What We've Become

Tobie and I reached a new low in our relationship this weekend.

We've been feeling a little downtrodden lately, both of us dealing with the usual frustrations / stressors of school, lack of finances, and upcoming exams. I partly blame those reasons, and partly the fact that when you are in a relationship long enough you start to lose the need to 'look your best' for one another at all times. Mind you, I have always been just this side of completely hopeless when it comes to fashion sense, but Tobie usually looks rather dapper. As a result, I attempt to lift my game somewhat when he's around.

Friday night we both wanted to just go out for dinner so we could bypass all the razmatazz of cooking/cleaning, but then after the realization that there still is nowhere decent in town to eat on a student budget we decided to just splash out and buy some steaks and make ourselves something good.

One delicious steak, mushrooms, homemade ceasar salad, and baked potato later we were about busting our jogging suit waistbands, so we headed out for an evening stroll. Tobie had the decency to put on some pants. I stayed in my pit-stained t-shirt and unfortunate lycra capris.

Though, for the record, he chose are the pants we call "the frontal butts" because they make him look like he has a butt, in the front.

The 'triumph' of a frontal butt.

Almost home, walking back on campus, we were discussing what movie to watch. Tobie suddenly stopped and said, "Look at us! Look what all the stress and lack of sleep has done to our fashion sense and ability to live it up on a Friday night. We've basically given up. We've become those people who go out in jogging suits with mustard stains their shirts, then sit in front of a television set after a hard week."

We both started howling as we took a look at ourselves. Yep. We then started playing out 'worst case scenario people' that we could run into. We both thought of our friend Kris who (IMHO) is by far one of the most beautiful, well dressed (and sweet) women in my class. Her Manfriend is also a snazzy dresser. We imagined going around the corner and running into the two of them, both dressed immaculately and stylishly...then...pan to us.

Shorts cut to make legs as unattractive as possible.

Us [spoken with awkward lisp]: "Hey guys! Fancy meeting you out here on a Friday night! Hey, you guys want to come over for some seven-up, beans on toast, and chicken wings dipped in ranch sauce?? We're probably going to watch a documentary later!"

K & G [smelling good, looking great]: "Um, that sounds great but we are going out for martinis at a new bar that just opened downtown".

Us [mindlessly kicking the dirt with our orthopedic shoes]: "Suit yourselves!"

Maybe it is a good thing that Tobie and I are going to be apart for a little while, and that we're both heading into professional-ish roles again soon. Lord knows, we've fallen so far already we may never return to baseline. In the meantime, you might be able to catch us on an Irish version of What Not to Wear.

Romance Ain't So Bad

After spending an hour trying to find a movie on itunes we settled for turning on the television in the unlikely event that something watchable was on RTE at 2200h. RTE mostly shows reruns of Friends* and The Simpsons. It's 2011 people, enough already with The Simpsons. 

"The Bridges of Madison County" was on and we initially started watching mostly so we could crack jokes about how Clint Eastwood was playing the 'sex symbol' in a romance movie. I hadn't seen the movie or read the book so we decided to stay with it for a while. 

Warning: spoiler for those of you who still have this 1995 movie on your "must see" list!!

Ok, I may get flamed for saying this but...it was actually quite a good movie (as long as you can stomach geriatric sex scenes involving Eastwood). I mean, it was as good and as realistic as a romance from Hollywood can get. Of course, unrequited love movies always hit the soft underbelly of my heart, but some scenes just ruined me!  Oh, the fact that she tried to find him after her husband died...sighhhhhhhhhhhhh. But she couldn't reconnect with him because he was no longer working for National Geographic. Nooooooooooooooo!

This morning I commented that the movie could never be as realistic now because she could have easily tracked him down on google or FB. To which Tobie replied, "yeah, it would have kinda killed the movie if she'd just looked him up on FB after her husband died".

Then again, he would have had a GPS and would have never needed to drive up to a strangers house asking for directions in the first place.


Which, I guess means that new technology has killed any possibility of realistic, meaningful romance movies.

I was just thankful that I didn't meet Tobie after getting married and having two children with a farmer from Iowa. 

--

*Was Friends ever good? I try and go back to my 90's brain and watch it with that question in my mind. I realize that most comedy has a period shelf-life. Unless the person writing it is Lenny Bruce.

Better Late

I sort of dropped the ball on Valentine's Day this year. Tobie had planned to get me a massage as a gift (wicked!) but then I fell in love with this scarf in Galway. And I was given the option to choose.

Chose scarf.

I couldn't find anything for him and I didn't want to buy something just for the sake of buying it.

So I cooked him a Valentine's Day dinner. But like most important meals I make, it was chaos on wheels. I had to go to four different stores to find everything. Buckwheat flour? Ceramic ramekins? What? Oh, and about 2 hours to do the shopping and cooking. I almost always try new things when I am under the gun. No idea why.

Thankfully I had some of the more exotic things on hand (well, exotic by some Irish standards). See I knew those vanilla pods, dried mustard, and bakers chocolate from AVOCA would come in handy some day! Mwahahahahahah!

Initial chaos. Bad idea to try 3 new recipes at once? Um. Yeah. And yes that is a washing machine in my kitchen. Welcome to Ireland.

So these were the appetizers--buckwheat and cheddar blinis with smoked salmon. The recipe is here. Possibly the finest achievement of the night was that MY version actually looked BETTER than the Food and Wine magazine photo! That was definitely a first. Seriously, go look at their recipe. The below photo is mine. Also, I used mascarpone cream mixed with lemon juice, lemon zest, and snipped chives instead of sour cream (as the recipe called for).

The main course was supposed to be this scallops with brussel sprouts dish. But for the life of me I couldn't get my hands on fresh scallops. Of course, the one day I am looking for them, nary a scallop is to be found.

So after much angst and gnashing of teeth, I decided to substitute smoked coley for the scallops in the recipe. And HELLO NURSE! It was actually quite nice, the smoked flavor went well with the pancetta. Not to mention the starving student budget points for saving money on le cheap fish instead of les scallope!

  Oh I should mention, Food and Wine kindy offers wine pairing suggestions. Conveniently I was doing a creamy, fishy appy and main (which probably goes against all the laws of 'treating your arteries right') so one wine cut it. I bought a mid-ranged Cabernet Sauvingon Blanc. I grabbed blind though because my white wine knowledge is even more limited than my red.  It was probably something that had a 'hand selected by SuperQuinn' sticker and '10% off' label on it. But, I have to say, the magazine's grape suggestion was bang on. The crispiness cut the cream and didn't bring out the fishiness.  So good work there Food and Wine magazine on the wine pairings! Do not quit your day jobs.

Dessert was a bit of an adventure as well.  I managed to find these ridiculously cute ramekins on sale. They even came with little lids. God I am a sucker for little lids, it must be a throwback from my early Easy Bake Oven days or something. 

I am a terrible/hopeless/pathetic baker so it is always a gamble when I get on the other end of a measuring spoon. But! My desserts turned out looking like some kinda fancy-schmancy little pots of heaven when I took them out of the oven! (Pictured above). And then I covered them with dessert-wine-soaked cherries and vanilla mascarpone cream--and made them wickedly evil.

A little HDL never killed anyone, right?

So despite the fact that the molten cakes weren't quite as molten as I'd like, and that my timing was a bit off (was whipping the cream while serving the main course, as evidenced by the flecks of mascarpone all over my microwave and backsplash). Tobie was a happy man. And I think I have regained both my sanity and my title as 'best girlfriend evah'.

Tobie was happy. I was happy. Lesson learned. 

Even though I should have been memorizing what antibodies are specific to systemic lupus erythematosus and drawing out the pathways of auto-immunity...I made buckwheat blini.

Don't get me wrong, I appreciate the gravity of SLE and the importance of keeping up with school work. But you know, sometimes you just gotta make buckwheat blini.

Mozart for Lunch

Today Tobie played a lunchtime concert with his piano quartet. It is so lovely to get to listen to live music and allow the neurons in other parts of my brain to fire. I took this photo of him just before the show and I adore it (as I do, him).

Viola. Not violin.

I also included a short clip the concert for your listening pleasure, it is from the first movement of Mozart's Piano Quartet in G minor. Apologies for my consistently bad camera operating skills and poor vantage point.



Oh and yes, he is for hire!

Galway Getaway

So young Tobington and I decided to use our new found access to vehicular transport and hit the road for a mini-adventure yesterday. It really is an amazing novelty to be able to step out the door and drive to another town, solely in the name of exploration. Our only true plan was to find the Farmers Market in Galway. And we did indeed find it. We also managed to gorge ourselves on delicious food, drink (a little wine--what? It was early in the afternoon and I only had 1.5 glasses!), and shop (I needed a new umbrella...I live in Ireland, ok?) Apparently being poor makes me defensive about every single purchase I make. 

If you don't know exactly where I live in Ireland, look up where the cultural epicenter of the nation is---then go as far away from that as possible. I am sure that many of you do know but for the sake of the few remaining strands of anonymity, let's just say that our home town here is known for gang violence, abject poverty, and closed-down-industrial parks. So a chance to breathe in the sweet air of Galway for the day was truly divine. Even getting snubbed by the wine snob that runs the wine and cheese shop was fun (almost as fun as trash-talking him in French and later figuring out that he probably spoke French).

Tobie endeavors to eat an entire wheel of cheese.

I was pretty excited about the fact that this coffee shop served soy latte's. Really. I can count on one hand the amount of places you can get a soy latte in this country. Yes, I know that sounds unbelievably uppity and bourgeoisie but I LIKE SOY LATTE'S DAMMIT AND YOU CAN'T GET THEM HERE!!

I also enjoyed how similar my hair looked to a hockey helmet.

I love the street scene below mostly because when I uploaded the photos at home I saw that the dude front and center is walking with a case of beer in one hand and a bottle of Buckie in the other.  He is definitely going to have a stellar afternoon. For those that have never had the pleasure of Buckfast, just imagine the sweetest wine you've ever tasted, mixed with Buckley's cough syrup, fortified with more alcohol and then injected with an unnatural amount of caffeine. Voila. Irish night out.

We snuck in from the evening wind and rain and enjoyed a lovely meal in a little Italian bistro before hitting the road back home. Tobie, as you can see, is a connoisseur of fine soda pop, and after a brief tasting, settled on a 2010 7-Up to round out his lamb ragout. (Not that I am one to tease, I paired my grilled salmon with crab and potato mash with a spicy, yet fruity, glass of ice water.)

Home sweet-sunset-from-my-office-window home.  

It was a fabulous day. I am still mentally adjusting to having a car again. After a year and a half here without one it is amazing how much life changes when you don't have to depend on a shite bus system or lifts from friends to do the things you want to do.

Even groceries are a dream now. The closest decent grocery store is a 4km walk which feels MUCH farther when you have 50lbs of groceries on your back. It is just so unbelievably annoying when you are standing in the aisle trying to decide between yogurt or canned tomatoes based on weight instead of what you'd like to cook that night for dinner.

Now I can make a nice butternut squash soup or buy a whole chicken for roasting without sacrificing toilet paper or milk for the week.

Oh the little things make me so happy sometimes.