I was woken up from a lovely nap by what I can only describe as a SatanicDisneyTechnoBeat melody. I was surprised to discover that the accursed melody was emitting from my phone. I thought I'd changed the ringer to something more sedate, but at least this one woke me up. It was Councillor LaHart calling. He bid me, when I greeted him as such, to "stop bein' so formal, call me John!" It was charming. We arranged to meet for coffee on Sunday and so, with that arranged, I believe I shall unfurl the map and figure out where to go in the meantime!
During a preliminary perusal of the map the other day, I noticed a rather fetching looking clump of land out in the water called "Howth" and resolved that I should go. Since then, I have received recommendations from both my mother and Katy to visit, so I think I shall! Howth is also the site of a notably steamy tryst between Leo and Molly Bloom. I shall engage in something that does not require a decision of the United States district court, like a picnic. (Ulysses was famously banned in the United States for "obscenity" until 1933, when the Hon. John M. Woolsey of the Southern District Court of New York lifted the ban).
If the weather isn't nice, perhaps I will hold off on the picknicking and go and explore the medieval area of the city, which is South of the Liffey and just west of Temple Bar. The pathos of Medieval architecture is best appreciated in rain and cloudy skies, anyway: as we all know, sunshine wasn't invented until 1776.
Even things as simple as the acquisition of food are very different here. There are no large supermarkets like Giant or Harris Teeter around these parts: only small markets, most of which seem to be owned by the company "SPAR." It's very hard to get a decent portion of anything, like a gallon of milk or a full loaf of bread: everything comes in small sizes. I recall from my earlier time in Europe that, for the most part, people purchase food for one or maybe two days at a time: there is none of this "I'll go grocery shopping for a month" sort of thing here. I imagine it minimizes food waste and enhances the freshness of produce and makes the children go taller and with straighter moral character and all that, but it has required a slight bit of adjustment. I'm fine with it now, but I would still very much like to find some skim milk. The milk that I've been able to get so far, though delicious with a nutella sandwich, takes five minutes to slide back down the glass after I've taken a sip of it. It is quite whole, and I can only hope that it does not that it does not cling to my midsection with the same temerity.
Apparently, facebook knows that I am abroad and has altered its advertising to accommodate the sensibilities of my current country. In America, all of the ads were about weight loss products and online universities. In Ireland, most of the ads I see wonder, "do you qualify for the American green card program? Click to find out!"
I've have discovered how to make a cup of tea with my preferred strength. I'm used to leaving the leaves in for 3 minutes in the US, to achieve a nice light, savory cup of amber liquid. When I tried that timing here, the tea was so acrid that I could barely swallow it, and instead used it to clean my bathroom. Even leaving the tea bag in for 1.5 minutes produced an almost intolerably potent brew. I have finally settled on the perfect time: 43 seconds. The teabags here are of much greater strength than those at home.
I am reminded of Buck's line from the beginning of the Telemachiad in Ulysses (I do apologize to anyone who has already grown tired of the tiresome Ulysses references) - "When I makes tea, I makes tea. When I makes water, I makes water." Buck Mulligan would, no doubt, snort derisively and my lily-livered tea consumption habits, but they suit me fine. I would bring some back for my mother, who likes her tea strong, but it seems that no matter the strength or quality of the tea, she still prefers her Tetley to anything else. A good sturdy woman, with Dedalus' static aesthetic. I can't complain.
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