April 3, Faerie Hill Cottage, Ireland I survived the trip.
She paused a moment, laughed a little. It sounded as even though she’d been thru a war. She started out to delete it, start again. Then she stopped herself. No, the journal used to be solely for herself, and she would write what came into her mind, as it came.
The pressure from Dublin used to be long, and greater difficult than I’d imagined. I surprise how lengthy it will take me to develop used to using on the left. I doubt I ever will. Still, the scenery was once wonderful. None of the images I’ve seen begin to do the Irish countryside justice. To say it’s green isn’t enough. Verdant by some means isn’t right either. It, well, shimmers is the first-rate I can do.
The villages seem charming, and so unbelievably tidy that I imag
