Paddy's green shamrock shore

I felt the urge to write a little love note to dear sweet Ireland. I'm not a very reminiscent person and I don't get homesick very easily but about once a week for the past couple months I've found myself getting a little ache in my gut when I think of Ireland. The memories of heartache and extreme happiness which were made on that green little patch of land have a big place in my heart. The whole mission experience is strange and impossible to really grasp. You get to know people very closely in a very short amount of time. Their strengths, weaknesses, hopes, everything about their family, even what it was like for them when they prayed. Compared to regular time when it takes a year just to find out what your neighbor does for their job. You think you'll be close friends forever and 3 months later you leave and never see them again. Really, it breaks my heart when I have little memories come and go without warning.

I love how the land is organized and chaotic at the same time in all its glorious patchwork

This is how missionaries get when they're together (each individual face is funny to me). If there is no place to release the weird, we'd all explode from anxiety. There are 4 countries represented in this group and we called ourselves Octocork (8 missionaries in Cork)

And here's the stereotypical Irish woman. Wide around the middle, skinny legs, always shorter than me. Wearing something comfy with something blingy/fashion-ish. I'm fairly embarrassed of my outfit but since hers is equally awesome, it needed to be shown. She was working on coming back to church with her 6 wild kids. I just got a letter from her that looked like this...

...which is something else I miss: the messy letters with stamps placed anywhere addressed to "the cottage in Monaghan" that somehow always makes it to it's intended owner. She said her first letter got returned and I can only assume the reason being that it was illegible to the American postman.

She's working on getting to the temple. I think she had a lot of weaknesses to get over and it's taking a lot of time. Alcohol, fags (the tobacca smoking kind), men (the promiscuous, ex-boyfriend kind) language, modesty. But her heart was full of hope and good intentions that just weren't always met. 

Anyway, I just felt the need to feel sad and happy at the same time. Hopefully we can take a trip sometime soon. I want to just wander around and drop in on people who would never confirm an appointment and visit Tesco and buy the German yogurt packs with the chocolate-covered biscuit balls. 

And last thing... this song makes me get a lump in my throat every time: