You might notice I’ve made some changes to the blog – I’m still moving tags and categories around, but I’m kinda likin’ the new theme.

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Saturday, March 15: We landed at 10 AM, picked up our rental car (which Novy did an excellent job of driving, on the wrong side of the road and with the stick shift on the opposite side) and plunged into midday Dublin traffic. After a few (did I say a few? Okay, it was more than a few) wrong turns, we made our way to our hosts’ flat, in Rathmines, and got ready to go to PaddyCon – an all day pub crawl with a group of Irish, Canadian, American and Czech leprechauns of which I, unfortunately, have no pictures – but if those who do would like to post links in the comments, we’d much appreciate it. (Update: There are a few pics posted here and here.) Along the way, we met Brigid in the Post Office (a lovely old lady who told us she’d been there in 1816) and saw giant French puppets in the rain.

Sunday, March 16: We staggered out of Ian and Gina’s flat and headed north, on our way to the National Museum of Ireland, to see the bog bodies. On the way, we passed Trinity College – I would have liked to see the Book of Kells, but didn’t feel like standing in line, so we admired the grounds and moved on to the museum, after which we wandered through St. Stephen’s Green, one of the most beautiful parks I’ve ever seen, and watched the sun set over the canal.

St. Patrick’s Day: Thanks to Gina, who’d been working on the project for weeks, we marched in the parade, wearing tie-dye and pushing a sound system topped with a seahorse. Here’s a brief clip of our section of the parade:

And as if that weren’t enough, once we’d wiped off the greasepaint and had a few pints, it was time for the Kila concert at the Olympia Theatre (followed by a few more pints, complete with spilled drinks and dancing, and excellent burgers at Rick’s American.)

Tuesday the 18th found us in Galway, on the other side of the country, and the single night we spent there wasn’t nearly enough time. Our host, Niall, treated us to a brief tour of the medieval city, excellent vegetarian shepherd’s pie, and a great bit of trad (traditional music) at a pub called The Crane.

Wednesday, March 19: Possibly the only thing that could have pulled us away from Galway so soon was a Christy Moore concert in Enniscorthy – our second trip across the island in as many days. And, oh yes, it was worth the drive. Enniscorthy’s a lively little town – lots of boutiques to let you know there’s some money around somewhere, and a neo-Gothic cathedral that was swarming with TV crews. (It’d been chosen to host RTE’s four-day Holy Week broadcast.) Across the river is Vinegar Hill, site of one of the last major battles of the 1798 Rebellion.

Thursday, March 20: We left Enniscorthy and drove out toward Dunkerrin, deep in the boggy Midlands, where Dan’s family emigrated (or were transported) from. There’s not much there, even 150 years later, but we saw the church some of them may have attended (though it’s Anglican now – the Catholic church was built in the 1970s and still displays a picture of John Paul II), went through the cemeteries there and in nearby Moneygall. On the way, we stopped in at Leap Castle, whose owner kindly allowed us up into the tower, though he was about to go out. (It may have helped that our Galway host, Niall, once lived in the gatehouse.) Leap’s supposed to be haunted by a small, smelly elemental, but all we saw was a black-and-white border collie guarding the door.

Friday, March 21 through Sunday, March 23: We left Port Laoise, where Brian (who we’d met at PaddyCon, kindly put us for the night) and headed east to Wicklow, where we spent Easter weekend with Randy, Mel and Captain Allen TurboButt, hiking the hills and recuperating from the preceding week. They live in Glendalough, just across the road from the Monastery of St. Kevin (though they’re moving soon, to nearby Rathdrum). Leaving Galway was hard, but leaving Wicklow was even harder. Still, leave we did, and drove back to Dublin Sunday, to spend one last night with Ian and find our way to the airport Monday morning.

Monday, March 24: Our flight left Ireland Monday morning, and landed in LA Monday afternoon. We said hi to the cat, had a drink under the lemon tree, took ourselves out for margaritas and calamari steaks at Casablanca, and went to bed around 8 o’clock. We’re already planning the next trip.

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He is a Yam Tater. He is, in fact, the King of the Yam Taters.

A YamKing, if you will.

Only the king is allowed to wear the nose.

Schokie didn’t trust the YamKing.

Yammy shared with us our holiday cheer.

Sometimes a little too much cheer.

But, like all seasonal kings, Yammy’s time on Earth was brief.

One dark winter night, the Banaaratots were dug.

The Delicatas sliced.

And Yammy was sacrificed to the cast iron gods.

We ate his flesh by candlelight.

And he presided over the feast.

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Because I was working, I didn’t go to Melanie‘s class tonight, which left me a bit of time to cook dinner — we had deer chops with garlic, leek, bell pepper and sweet potato, plus salad. Took about half an hour to make (I just sauteed everything in the oil left over from the sausages we had Sunday night, then simmered it in a tiny bit of vegetable broth), and between the garlic and the Italian sausage oil, didn’t require any other seasoning. I’m very happy with it.

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Anyway, this has increased our consumption of fruits and vegetables, introduced us to varieties we might not have tried otherwise, and often forced us to get creative, since you can only eat steamed cauliflower so many times in a month before you begin to despise the very look of it. (This is where recipe sites are a lifesaver. My favorite is still the advanced recipe finder at Cooking Light — which also searches Sunset and a few other magazines. It’s not only searchable by ingredient, but also by cuisine and type of dish — so when I want a recipe that incorporates grapes and isn’t a dessert, I can find one.) But sometimes, the produce starts to pile up, and the next thing you know, there are three bunches of yellowing collard greens smothering a bundle of sad, soggy carrots in the crisper drawer, and you sigh deeply, toss the whole mess into the compost bin, and berate yourself for wasting food and money.

Last week, I made a decision. From now on, I’ll check the produce in when it arrives, and make note of how much of what thing we received, and when we need to use it by. And to keep track of all this, I’ve made… A spreadsheet. Specifically, a Google spreadsheet, which I’ve shared with NovySan, so we’ll both know just how many acorn squashes we’ve got, and when we need to use them by. (Another site suggestion — The World’s Healthiest Foods has tips on how to store various foods, tells you how long you can keep them, and has great nutritional-data graphics. Of course, just Googling the particular food you’re interested in works, too. Except with things like onions and potatoes, whose use-by date is designated in my spreadsheet as “whenever,” since those seem to keep until… Well, until they go bad, really.)

I feel so organized.

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