Missing You Already

In this season of list-making, indulge me as I compile a list of what I will miss during my eight month adventure on other shores.

The banter. On the Luas (Dublin’s tram system) recently my husband said, “I’ll miss the banter.” Of course we were on the Red Line, and you in Dublin can imagine what we were listening to, a sort of Moore Street on public transport.
The beautiful evening light in the weeks coming up to Solstice; the way the afternoons close in, bright windows look cosy. My cycle takes me down Bull Alley Lane under huge sycamores, with the lovely red brick of Liberties College on one side, and St Patrick’s Cathedral lit and silent on the other. It is a quiet moment to breathe during the commute home. It’s even better if there’s the scent of a peat fire hanging in the Dublin air.
Radio: the news programmes that cover the minutiae of this small island and the magnitude of the wider world; the documentaries that draw you in from the first words; the talk shows (that banter again!). Eighty three percent of adults in Ireland listen to radio and I always tell visitors that if they want to understand the Irish (okay, as much as you can), listen to the radio.
My neighbourhood: stopping for a quick chat with someone almost every time I leave my house; the parties, the street feast; neighbourhood kids in and out of our house, our kids in and out of others; the weekly watching of various historical series (Downton, Poldark), which is much more than just following wonderful story lines – it is the following of our own personal story lines as we share life over tea or wine and cake or cheese (see number 5).
The glamour!
Cheese, beautiful Irish (and other European) cheese. Strong Dubliner. Wensleydale with cranberries. Gubeen. Ardsallagh smoked. Wicklow blue. St Killian. Cheddar with the veins of stout or red wine lacing through, so gorgeous on a cheese board, so lovely to eat.
Beautiful cheeses.
Christmas eve afternoon tea at the Westin Hotel. Our family tradition: we go into town on Christmas eve day and catch the atmosphere, run into friends, pick up anything last minute, and end up in the Westin for their Festive and Most Peculiar afternoon teas before wandering down Grafton Street to see if we can catch Bono and Glen Hansard busking.
Being in the centre. Dublin is not in the middle of Ireland, but in many ways it is the centre. Being from the far west coast of Canada, I got used to being on the edge of things, so even though Dublin is not huge, and Ireland is small, I still relish living in a place that has the busy hum of a hub.
Being on the edge: Ireland is almost the last outpost of Europe, but still so close, so very close. Did I mention we were in six European countries this year (plus two German airports)?
My job, which shouldn’t involve as much laughter as it does considering the stories we face every week, and our new lovely office space.
A significant going-away gift.
Superquinn sausages. My newly done garden. Our annual new year’s day walk and lunch with good friends. The continual mentioning of the grand stretch in the evenings. And of course, friends! Friends and family.