I just had a bad feeling. Of course, I had a bad feeling about our flights to/from Ireland as well, so I'm not so big on trusting my intuition these days. But a bad feeling.

I step on the scale and am super excited to see that I have gained just 0.8lbs -- and over the holidays, too. Now they can't lecture me! I go pee in a cup and head to Exam Room 7. My BP is 134/82. I think it's high because I'm nervous but the nurse doesn't even comment. Today I'm seeing a new NP (new meaning I haven't met her), Amanda,  and she asks how I'm doing. I launch into a monologue about how I'm feeling anxious and what if, worst-case scenario, I die and the baby dies and Patrick grows up without a mother... Of course, in my head I have gone down to fifth-worst-case scenario. I am nothing if not thorough.

I win a prescription for Zoloft. A "baby" dose. I also get a lecture on how I need to exercise more. Sigh. It appears the lecture portion of the appointment is unavoidable.

Today's exam is the physical exam, but I got the lower half of it out of the way last time. So I just have to disrobe from the waist up. She checks out the boobs and is about to leave, actually, when she says, "Oh! The heartbeat!" Pulls out the doppler. Nothing. All over the belly. Nothing.

"It's harder to find if I haven't done the physical exam," she says, "because I don't know exactly where your uterus is."

"You can feel my uterus, if that'll help," I say.

After some more "hunting and pecking" we proceed to uterus feeling. ("Your cervix is WAY UP THERE, girl!") She determines it is midline. She gets the doppler back out. Nothing. "The doppler is picking up a heart rate in the 140s," she says, "but sometimes the blood flow in the mom is so loud that we can't hear it. All I can hear is your aorta."

Off to the ultrasound room we go. "I don't have a bad feeling about this," says Amanda. "I do," I say, after she walks out. I have to pee but I don't go.

When Dave, the ultrasound guy, starts looking around, I can tell there's no heartbeat. But he's looking on the right side of my stomach (npt the "midline"), so I can't be 100 percent exactly sure what he's looking at. There's a lot of stuff in there, after all. He keeps looking around. He measures the blob. I see him type "CRL ... 8w6d." It should be 14w1d. Finally he says, "I'm having trouble finding the heart tones. I'm just going to get another pair of eyes."

I know what that means. Another person I've never met comes in. Her name is Georgina. She takes one look at the screen and she knows. "Did you do a crown-rump length?" she asks.

"The first time was 9 weeks and the second time was 8w6d," says Dave.

Georgina tells me what I already know. She is kind about it. I am crying. She leaves, and Dave looks at my ovaries.

He says, "Was this planned or unplanned?" I tell him it was planned. Well," he says, "sometimes if it's unplanned this can be a blessing." Uh huh. He leads me back to an exam room. I have a different one this time. Amanda comes back and says, "I didn't expect this at all. Although I did think your uterus was a little bit small." She says all the right things. It's not my fault. It happens; in fact, it happens 25 percent of the time in the first trimester. She goes over my options. I have actually thought about these options before, because I am an obsessive worrier AND an obsessive googler. I opt to try to let nature take its course, at least for now.

"How long will it take?" I ask.

"Usually it can take up to a month after fetal demise," she says.

"But if the baby stopped growing at 9 weeks and I'm supposed to be 14 weeks and 1 day..."

"It will happen," she says. She tells me to come back next week. She says she thinks I should still get the prescription for Zoloft. She says she thinks I should skip the baby shower I'm supposed to attend tomorrow.

I leave.

Posted by Molly at 3:31 PM EST

Updated: Thu 01/20/2011 4:18 PM EST

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So we went to Ireland. (More on that later.) Patrick stayed with his grandparents. When we returned, my mom said, "I don't know if he'll do this at your house, but if he says 'poop' it's because the kitty pooped on the porch while he was here." We have our litterbox for our kitty in the upstairs bathroom and Patrick already knows it's the "yucky kitty" room, but yesterday, he gleefully pointed to the room and announced, "POOP."

"Oh," I said, "did the kitty poop?"

"Uh huh. POOP."

"Well, Daddy will have to clean it up."

"Daddy?"

"Yes, Daddy will clean it up."

Patrick looked at me, then looked down the stairs toward where his father was watching TV on the couch, then belted out, "HONEYYYY!"

I cracked up so he did it again later. It was hilarious.

Posted by Molly at 10:43 AM EST

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There's really only one reason the last day of our trip deserves an entry: breakfast. Otherwise it would be: "We got up. We went to the airport. We flew home." I mean, I'm way more wordy than that, but that's the essence.

But breakfast! The breakfast spread, to continue the theme at our B&B, was great. There was a table containing juice, milk, cereal, yogurt and granola, and Pauline brought us some tea, which I promptly dribbled on the tablecloth. James made fun of me and then he did the same thing. I had smoked salmon scrambed eggs (which I feel guilty about now since smoked salmon is BAD! for pregnant ladies but I didn't even think about it until later) and James had the Irish breakfast. Ron mentioned that they had good black and white pudding, and so many people did it wrong. He also said about 98 percent of Americans wouldn't even try the black pudding. It's not something I'd eat on a regular basis but I'm glad I tried it. Anyway.

Ron is cooking breakfast. Apparently part of the traditional Irish breakfast -- which we've managed to avoid up until this point -- is fried mushrooms. James and I HATE mushrooms. Since I didn't order the full breakfast, James is the one who gets the bowl full of 'shrooms. We look at each other in horror. We can't eat an entire bowl of mushrooms, but we can't leave it there. This is the best B&B we've stayed at, and the nicest hosts, and we can't leave the mushrooms there.

"You eat some," says James, pushing a large amount on my plate. I eat one. It makes me gag. James winces. I try to swallow a couple without chewing. It doesn't go well. James attempts a mushroom. We are looking around desperately. There is no way we can do this. (Clearly Couples Fear Factor and shows of that ilk are not in our future.) Finally we come up with a plan: I will take the mushrooms and flush them down the toilet in our room. This has to be done before Ron comes back to say goodbye. It is not. I am still in the bathroom when he comes back, but James just says I had to go, and since I have the "pregnant" excuse, it works. Ron and Pauline both come out to send us on our way, and they say we will have to come back and bring our new little one.

They have assured us that the airport is just five minutes away and we will have no trouble making it, so we are only going to arrive about 90 minutes before our internaltional flight. Which will give us plenty of time to shop for the souvenirs we still haven't bought. (Even after all of our minor disasters, I still thought this would be no problem.) The first hitch in the plan comes when we go to drop off our rental car and there's a sign in the window that says "Back soon." Eek. Eventually we make it to the terminal, but there are a few people ahead of us in line and it's not moving very fast. As we check in, the ticket agent mentions that we will actually be going through US Customs there at Shannon, so we'll need to get our asses up there. So we make it through security, have just enough time to mail our last postcard and do a mad dash through the duty free store for cheesy souvenirs (although -- success!), and get to customs for the flight back.

This ends up being convenient, as we don't have to go through customs at JFK, but also confusing, apparently, because the gate agent in New York thinks we've arrived at the wrong gate, until some other agent tells him that we're a domestic flight. No, really. The flight home is a smaller plane than the flight over, but the slightly cramped feeling is offset by the fact that we have individual movie screens and a wide selection of movies to choose from. They fed us pizza. We arrived early back at RDU (from JFK) and had to sit on the runway, which was not fun, as I really wanted to see Patrick. He seemed pleased that we were home.  

Posted by Molly at 12:01 AM EST

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We were ready to leave Kilkee early, but Brunhilda had told us last night that 8 was too early for breakfast (which I suppose makes sense since she was hanging out in the pub until late) and could we make it 8:30? We said sure; we were afraid not to acquiesce. At 8:30 we were sitting in the dining area, which had a lovely view of the water, and Brunhilda came to take our orders. I think I had the full Irish breakfast again, but I'm not sure. Eggs, bacon, toast, tea, something like that. Suddenly, Mary brought our food. There was no sign of Brunhilda. All we wanted to do was eat and go at that point, but now she was chatty and friendly and wanted to hear about our honeymoon and what we thought of Ireland, and were we coming back...it was awkward.

After breakfast we were on the road, headed for the Cliffs of Moher. It was about an hour north, along the coast. Pretty drive, and it was looking like a nice day, if a bit chilly. Somewhere before the Cliffs we encountered only our second tour bus of the trip. Unfortunately we were stuck behind it on a narrow winding road and it was going slow. Very slow. Luckily we weren't behind it long. I think it stopped at some touristy gift shop and we continued to the cliffs.

The Cliffs of Moher are beautiful. Also very windy. So if you go in November, it's QUITE COLD. And because of the wind, the surf is blown up over the cliffs and onto the walkway, so you can easily become QUITE WET. I insisted that we walk out to the little observation point (and tower, though the tower was closed that day), which meant walking through the surf. The tower is on the edge(ish) of the cliff, and back behind it, if you follow the coastline, it looks like the maintenance ends. There's a muddy lot with a feeble fence, and on it is a sign for the suicide hotline. So yeah, that was fun. We walked from end to end of the (available) cliffs, then headed back to the giftshop to warm up. There was also a movie in the visitors center that made it seem like you were flying above the cliffs. Or that was what it was supposed to do anyway. It didn't, but it was pretty anyway, and the key point here is that is was warm. We dallied in the giftshop for a while but even though it was our last full day and I was becoming frantic about buying souvenirs, I was still unable to commit and left without buying anything.

We got finished seeing the Cliffs fairly early, and James wanted to drive to Shannon, where we had our last overnight before flying out the next morning. He figured we could get our shopping done, as Shannon must be a bustling town since it has an international airport. (We were still very naive, even after almost a week in Ireland.)

On the way to Shannon, we drove through the Burren, a national park where the ground is basically made of rock (technically limestone, I think). It was amazing to see. And there were rock walls everywhere. We wondered when they were from and marvelled at how hard it must have been to make. From my handy guidebook, I learned that there was an ancient portal tomb, the Poulnabrone Dolmen, was in the middle of the Burren, just off the road we were on, so we stopped and had a look. It is mind-blowing to think about how old it is.

The interesting thing about our destination for the evening, Shannon, was that we had nowhere to stay. I had put James in charge of B&Bs for the week, with very strong suggestions about where I wanted to stay, and he had gotten everything arranged, except none of the places in Shannon had responded to him. We realized this a few days into our trip, and had used our downtime in the evenings to email other B&Bs. NONE of them responded. We had a B&B guide, and it was the offseason, so we weren't too worried.

And we got VERY lucky. James saw a picture of one of the B&Bs in the guidebook that was an aerial shot and looked like a castle. He wanted to stay there. However, we had no idea where to find it. He pulled into a gas station and the lady behind the counter said to him, "You're looking for Kells, aren't you?" In retrospect, we weren't THAT close, so it shouldn't have been obvious, but we got directions and were on our way. They had a room for the night, and it was easily the best place we stayed. The owners, Ron & Pauline, were delightful and welcoming. (I know I sound like a travel review, but it's true!) The house was great and had been custom built. I think he said it was completed in 2000. They had turned it into a B&B once their kids left home. It was mid-afternoon, but we hadn't had lunch yet, and Ron recommended the Weaver's Inn, just down the street. There was another couple who had just checked in, and that's where they were going, so we headed out to follow them.

We ended up having lunch with the other couple, they were older, retired and living in San Francisco. It was their second time in Ireland, and their second time at this B&B. They were shocked that we had showed up without a reservation and said how lucky we were to have found the place. We had a really nice time with them, and the food was outstanding. They had traditional pub fare as well as Indonesian food. I had the fish and chips (the first time I'd tried it in Ireland and SO MUCH BETTER than anything in the U.S.) and James had some kind of chicken curry. I think he would've ordered the cheeseburger, but they only had one left, and the lady we were eating with ordered it. There was another peat fire in the fireplace (yay!).

After lunch, we headed off to find downtown Shannon to do our big shopping. After driving in two big circles, we came to the inevitable conclusion that there was no downtown Shannon. Or, we were in it. We ended up at a strip mall which contained the Irish version of Target (I guess) as well as some other forgettable stores. We had coffee and a snack and wandered around for a while, then, discouraged, headed back to our B&B.

We had a wonderful evening back at the B&B. Ron made a fire for us (even though it was a bit on the warm side for a fire) then took us back to his well-stocked bar, located in a small room off the living room. I had to explain why I wasn't drinking, and he congratulated me and brought me a glass of some expensive fruit drink he'd bought that was imported from somewhere and that was supposed to do wonders for your health. The other guy that was staying there came down to the bar as well and Ron  told a story about how once he'd gotten some Irish moonshine for a friend who was flying to the U.S., and he told the guy just to roll it in a sweater and put in in his suitcase and he'd be fine, but the guy insisted upon carrying it with him in his trenchcoat. He was caught (but luckily he didn't squeal on his supplier). Ron also had a picture of his very expensive boat, of which the boys were very appreciative.

Posted by Molly at 12:01 AM EST

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This was the day it really sunk in that Ireland is the offseason is not the most welcome place to be.

After the previous night's cozy B&B and lovely hostess, we got off to a nice start when the morning dawned clear (and cold) for the last leg of the Ring of Kerry. We got to see the famous Ladies View -- the fame is well deserved -- and saw sheep wandering on the side of the road. On Maureen's (last night's lovely B&B hostess) recommendation we "hiked" Torc Waterfall in the Killarney National Park, just past Ladies View. Unfortunately by the end of the hike it was raining.

In light of this, we scrapped plans for the Dingle Peninsula and went to Limerick. We felt sure that this would be a lively town, and we wanted to do some shopping. Unfortunately had no coins to pay for parking, no way to get coins, and the guy parking next to us said they did in fact enforce the payment. So we saw King John's Castle (free parking!) and then James wanted to head to our next B&B, which was in the coastal town of Kilkee, where a murderer had been arrested just last night. We weren't sure how long it would take us to get to Kilkee, and we thought (incorrectly, it turned out) that there might be some local shopping. We should have known better, I suppose.

We got to the B&B -- where James had reserved a "special" room as he had told the man on the phone we were on our honeymoon -- and eventually ended up with a seaview room, but only after tonight's hostess (Mary but let's call her Brunhilda) marched us up a steep flight of stairs and through a long passageway around the back somewhere. She said it was the largest room, and it did seem big. I suppose. We went back to the front room with the superb view. Brunhilda informed us that the town was dead and headed back to whatever she'd been doing. We wandered around town for a bit, walked along the water, then looked for places to shop or eat. We found a small grocery and asked the lady inside for suggestions. She said we had one: the Stella Maris, a hotel/restaurant across from our B&B that looked quite a bit more welcoming than our place. Walking back to the Stella Maris, we saw a pub adjacent to the B&B and Brunhilda was behind the bar. That pub had a nice peat fire roaring and probably would have been better than the Stella Maris, upon reflection, but no way we were going to give Brunhilda the satisfaction. It turns out the pub was attached to the B&B. If you look at the website, it all looks wonderful. And maybe it is, in the summer.

At dinner, we discovered that the murderer had in fact stayed in that very hotel and eaten at that very restaurant the night before. After dinner, it was another early night back at the B&B. 

Posted by Molly at 12:01 AM EST

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The proprietor of the B&B (I assume) showed up to cook breakfast, providing a breath of fresh air compared to the woman of the day before. You know, I just looked at the website and we did NOT get either of the lovely looking rooms pictured. I mean, it was an adequate room back in the back of the house but it looked kind of tired. The nice, warm rooms in the picture are apparently not for those on travel vouchers. Hmm. At least I can remain secure in the knowledge that I did not pick badly. I was misled by the pretty pictures of the nice rooms.

Anyway, I had waffles for breakfast and James went with the scrambled eggs. We were not feeling up to the white and black pudding today. The B&B had some cool artwork around the dining rooms, all done by the same guy (whose name I cannot remember and it's driving me a little bit crazy right now), and we admired it as we were leaving. The proprietor asked what we were planning to do, and we told him the Ring of Kerry. He said that was good, that we had planned a whole day for it, because a lot of people tried to do it in a half day, and you certainly could, but...

On the road again! It was overcast and threatening rain. We stopped at a beach on the Dingle Bay and took a few photos. Our guidebook directed us to stop at the Bog Village, but with our luck we weren't sure it would be open and James vetoed the idea.

I think we drove over to Valentia Island...but we couldn't figure out anyplace to stop so we just kept driving. Damn rain. We stopped off at the Skelligs Island Experience, but we had missed the boat that would take us out to the islands (which we knew already, plus it probably would have been miserable on this day) but we thought we'd see if anything was interesting at the visitor's center. It wasn't. They had a video you could pay to watch, and there was a tour bus that arrived just after we did that was watching the video, but we opted out and went to lunch in the little town across the water, which was called Portmagee. The Bridge Bar was mentioned in the handy guidebook and hey! there it was. So we had seafood chowder. It was good, and the bar was nice and there was a peat fire, which I liked, but we were the only people in there and the locals were not exactly welcoming.

We kept driving and eventually came to a parking lot on top of some mountain? hill? (Coomakista Pass) so we pulled in. The wind was brutal and whatever was falling from the sky seemed to be icy. We got out to take a few pictures and nearly got blown off the cliff. Well, not really but the wind was blowing really hard. And whatever was falling made the photography a challenge. There's a random statue in the middle of the parking lot. Wikipedia tells me it's the Virgin Mary.

Coming down the mountain/hill from Coomakista Pass, we saw some beaches that probably would be really cute in the summer. But the rain, it continued. We noticed that we were rapidly coming close to our destination for the evening and it was only 2:00 in the afternoon, so we headed off the beaten path toward the Staigue stone fort. Down winding one-lane roads we went ... only to discover that the fort -- which had a chainlink fence around it -- was closed. So that was that. At least we saw it, I suppose.

We were staying in Sneem, which was apparently a cute and quaint fishing village according to the guidebooks. It technically is still on the Ring of Kerry, which officially ends in the next town, Kenmare. I had grossly overestimated the time we would spend -- or want to spend -- driving the Ring, so we got to Sneem early in the afternoon. It was pouring rain and cold. We almost missed the town, it was so small. We kept thinking there had to be more to it, but alas, there was not. There was a little town circle, but all the shops seemed closed, and there weren't even that many shops to begin with. James suggested we drive on to Kenmare and see if there was anything to do there.

Kenmare was ... much the same as Sneem. But there was a bit of a shopping area and a cafe where we stopped to warm up. We spent a bit of time looking at a sort of general store, where I was tempted by the Aran sweaters but still unable to commit. Everything closed by 4 or 5 so we headed back to Sneem.

James found a hotel in either Sneem or Kenmare that he really wanted to stay at, as they it looked modern and there was a nice fireplace and a restaurant, but we had already pre-paid the B&B so I didn't want to do it. It was such a miserable day, and we weren't having a superfun time, so I probably would have caved in but he didn't push it. 

We headed back to our B&B in Sneem (we had this room), where we were met by a college student from Illinois who was living there while she student-taught for a semester. She gave us tea and a snack and told us how she was having a great time and she could fly to Paris for just 20 euros on Ryan Air and she was going to Germany next week to see the Christmas Markets and that had only cost her 15 euros or something ridiculously low like that.

As we were finishing our snack, Maureen, the proprietor arrived home from some meeting she had had to go to. She said the weather was horrible, even by Irish standards, and she was betting we'd lose power, she was sure of it, they'd already lost power in the next town over ... so we had better go eat now if we were going into town. (She said there'd be no problem with breakfast in the morning if she did lose power, since she cooked with gas.) She recommended Dan Murphys. Actually she said that was pretty much our only option, but it was good and the prices were reasonable. (She noted that most people in Ireland don't eat out -- only the tourists. At least we fit the bill!) We had a lovely dinner in the pub, sitting by the peat fire. I had lamb stew. I find that I don't actually like lamb, or at least not this lamb. It was pretty tough. But the stew was good, it had lots of big bright orange carrots. There was only one lady there, serving behind the bar, and she was putting candles out in case they lost power, but they didn't, at least not while we were there.

We headed back to the B&B after dinner, and were hoping to be invited to sit by the fire, as had been mentioned (though not promised) earlier in the evening, but we didn't see anyone after we let ourselves in, so we just headed to our room. There was satellite TV but because of the weather or some other glitch, we weren't getting very many channels, but we did at least have internet access, so we could play on James's iPad, and I read some more and then we went to bed early again.

Posted by Molly at 12:01 AM EST

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A much better day. We started again with a traditional Irish breakfast for James although I ate his black and white pudding, deciding that I liked the white better.

We drove to Midleton, which was my backup plan if we missed the Jameson tour in Dublin. Midleton is home to the actual distillery. By this time, we were getting the hang of navigation in Ireland, and the signage in Midleton was quite good. On the way from Waterford, we passed some more amazing views and also the town of Dungarvan, which is apparently twinned to Erie, PA, of all places. The distillery tour was fun. There were a decent number of folks on tour with us, including three or four who did not seem to know a word of English, so I'm not sure exactly what all they got out of it, but they did get to do the taste test at the end. The tour guide asked for volunteers and James's hand shot up. And no one else's. But, it being the off-season, everyone got to do the taste test except for me and one other woman who had a small child with her. (And I think we could have joined if we'd wanted.) James got an official taste tester certificate. I smelled the whiskey. I have to admit, the Jameson smelled the best.

Anyway, Cobh was a really cute looking town, but we had to hustle out of there to make it to the Blarney Stone before sundown. By God, I was going to kiss that damn stone. James got us there before dusk and we both kissed it. We actually got there at a really good time, late afternoon, and the sun was shining and there was no one around. The spiral steps up were possibly more nerve wracking than bending over backwards to kiss the stone. There were two guys up there, one to hold onto your pants so you didn't fall and one to take your picture. I was really scared about falling before I got to the castle, but it turns out they put a couple of iron bars across the opening so you'd have to be really special to fall to your death. And then there's the guy hanging onto you. I mean, it still made me nervous to lean back and do it (I went first) but naturally I had built it up in my mind to be worse than it was. But those damn steps. Holy hell.

James got into a conversation with the pants-holder on metal detectors, as apparently treasure hunting is illegal in Ireland, but the dude was going to do it anyway. And James dearly wanted to.

After the Blarney Stone, we contemplated the Blarney Woolen Mills (as I still had not found adequate souvenirs for people and it was starting to get to me), but it looked closed. So we made our way to our stop for the night, Killarney. The lady at the B&B was unfriendly, but I don't think she was the owner, as the guy who made us breakfast the next morning was delightful.

We were fairly close to the town center, so we wandered around and considered a movie, which we ultimately did not see. Then we ate at an Italian restaurant, Salvador's I think it was. James had an awesome calzone. Then we had carrot cake and Italian coffee for dessert. (Hot chocolate for James.) It was totally un-Irish but good. Our waiter asked if we were driving the Ring of Kerry (which we were, the next day), then said he had been here three years and had only just done it last week and was like, "Why haven't I done this before???"

Posted by Molly at 12:01 AM EST

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We started the day with our first real Irish breakfast. (We had had breakfast the day before, yes, but not an "Irish breakfast.") The proprietor had asked the night before what time we wanted breakfast. I think we picked 8. He said something like, "Oh, Mary will cook for you." Mary, apparently, is his wife. When she bustled up with our breakfast at the appointed hour, James and I wondered where she had been last night. Mary made the best scones I have ever had. They were just traditional scones with raisins in them but they were so, so good. (Clinton's Woodview Farmhouse, in case you're in the area.) I had heard about the black and white pudding in a traditional Irish breakfast, and it sounded scary, but I tried it anyway, I mean, you only live once. It wasn't bad. James, predictably, would not eat it. Mary was entranced by James's iPad, which he showed off before we left.

We only had vague plans for the day, but we knew we were staying in Waterford that night, which was about a three-hour drive. There was an emigrant ship on the way that I had originally wanted to tour but it had gone into dry dock the week before, according to the website. So our other options were the Hook Head Lighthouse, which I wanted to do but was pretty far out of the way, or the Waterford Crystal Factory once we arrived in town. I'm not big on Waterford Crystal, but I figured it might be neat. Plus we had one of our BOGOs.

Before we got on the road, however, I wanted to see the beach. Or, more specifically, the Irish Sea. And it was pretty. Someone either at the pub or the B&B, or maybe right there at the harbor, had mentioned Skerries Mills, which are two windmills that sort of dominate the landscape. One was built in the 1500s and the other in the 1800s. And we had a BOGO! Also, they opened at 10, which meant they would be open now, so we headed over to check it out. The little complex had a cafe and a gift store, and we were the only people there to tour (some other people came a bit later to start setting up for a music performance that was being held in the cafe that afternoon) so the guy who was there taking money said he would take us around. But first he and James and the girl working there all went outside for a smoke, and we stood around and bitched about the costs of car ownership. I think James asked if anyone had trucks, because we hadn't seen any, although with the narrow roads, I don't know why you'd want one anyway. The guy said insurance prices were ridiculous. Or he said gas prices were ridiculous. (Which they were.) He said he never liked to travel but his wife and daughter (friend?) went to New York every so often to go shopping, because even once you paid airfare you got better deals.

It was a pretty day, but cold. We could only go up in one of the windmills because the other was closed for maintenance or something. I think we went up in the older one. We also got to go through the mill area and see the waterwheel. They were setting up for a Santa Village that they apparently host so there was foil and presents and snow everywhere. It was cute. After the tour, James got some more hot chocolate, and I was probably going to buy some souvenirs, but the guy who had led our tour asked us to sign the guestbook, so we headed back downstairs to do so and the lady in the store fixed him with a death glare for running off her potential customers. Which he did, as we didn't end up buying anything. The guy was very nice, though, and invited us to stay for the performance they were having, but we had to get on the road.

We drove forever, but the views were incredible. We kept hoping there would be a scenic overlook so we could stop and look around, but we only saw one, which we dutifully stopped at. I incorrectly chose to not tour the lighthouse because I was afraid that it would be closed by the time we got there (after our Newgrange experience) or that we would get lost on the way there or back, and I didn't want to have to be driving/navigating in the dark, which came early. So we went to Waterford Crystal instead, but it was in fact inexplicably closed. It was also unclear as to where we were supposed to go. We drove by it a couple of times, following the signs, but then the signs just stopped. Finally we figured that black building must be it but nothing was going on. There were some other confused looking tourists wandering around, but not many.

We went to eat dinner in the city center, which had a cute little shopping district. We picked O'Briens Sandwich Shop and when I found out they took cash only, I cried. I couldn't help it. I'm not a good traveller and I was upset that I had picked wrong on the lighthouse, and that the crystal factory was closed and that we were already running out of cash, and how can it be SO EXPENSIVE. Anyway, we ate and James was mad that I had cried so we had a very silent drive to the B&B which we found after only having to ask directions once. This B&B, in contrast to our farmhouse lodging of the night before, had a new modern wing was very hotel-like. They had hot tea and snacks when we arrived so things were looking up. I mentioned to Susan, the proprietor, that we were having some trouble navigating the country as we had opted out of the GPS and she responded that she was adamantly against GPS as they melt your brain. She had strong opinions. James didn't like her. I thought she seemed quite fun. I tried some milk in my tea and liked it.

We couldn't figure out anything else to do, not really wanting to venture too far away, and James was still mad at me, so he went to bed early and I took a nice relaxing bath and read my book.

Posted by Molly at 12:01 AM EST

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Do they call them suburbs in Ireland? After breakfast, we took pictures of the Molly Malone statue that we'd seen from the duck tour the day before, and I insisted we go to Starbucks. It tasted just like back home. On the agenda for today was Kilmainham Gaol in Dublin, then Trim Castle a.k.a. The Braveheart Castle, and Newgrange, an ancient burial tomb, which was recommended by my dad's friend Ed who has been to Ireland several times and is an expert in such things. (Plus it seemed cool online, so I probably would have wanted to go anyway.)

After our walk to see Molly Malone and our Starbucks excursion, we navigated to the Kilmainham Gaol without too many missteps. I had thought that it seemed like a good place to visit, but it was mainly for James. I mean, what man wouldn't like touring a prison? Also we had a coupon book that had buy one, get one offers for a lot of the attractions that were perhaps off the beaten path. Like this one. Anyway, it was pretty powerful. The cells were awful, and they had the place where the public executions were carried out, and the most powerful story was probably that of the Easter Rebellion, which I knew nothing about. We saw the spot where James Connolly was executed. James recognized the "New Wing," where several movies have been filmed.

We drove to Trim, located about an hour northeast of Dublin. It was cold and threatening rain, but we perservered. The castle seems like it's in pretty good shape for something built in 1204. We were a bit early for the tour so we had time to walk the grounds a bit, and James tried to help out three fellow tourists trying to get a decent picture in front of the castle. (They were trying to get a shot of all three of them jumping up in the air. James finally got one, but with our camera, and though we exchanged email addresses, I don't think we ever managed to send it to them. Oops.) We got to tour inside and then we got to go up to the top. Our tour guide mentioned that once she had locked someone up there and only noticed as she was walking back across the grounds and saw frantic hand waving. Meanwhile, it had started to rain steadily. Everyone hustled around pretty quick as it was cold and wet, but then I remembered the tour guide had said something about the gates of the castle being directly parallel to the gates of the castle in the next town, so I wanted to go get a picture. Once I did that, I realized I was the only one left up there, and went over to the door...just as the guide was locking it from the inside. Hopefully James would have come to my rescue eventually but luckily she let me in and we finished the tour without further incident.

After the castle tour, I wandered around the grounds some more (in the rain) while James looked at pictures from the Braveheart filming. Then we grabbed some lunch at The Castle Restaurant just across the street, where James had a burger and confused the staff by ordering "fries." We also noticed there was "Southern fried chicken" on the menu, and James asked if that meant Southern Ireland. I don't think they were sad to see us go.

Leaving Trim, James turned the wrong way on the one way street and came upon a police car. Luckily he either recognized our rental car or noticed James waving sheepishly at him. We headed over to Newgrange hurriedly, as I noted that it closed at 4:15 in winter. Unfortunately the website and guidebook neglected to mention that the last tour was at 3:15, which was just too bad since we arrived closer to 4. "You can tour the museum here onsite," the nice lady said. What the hell, we were already there, so we forked over some exorbitant amount of euros to look at the (tiny) museum, the highlight of which was the movie theater that had a replica of how the inner chamber is lit by sunlight at sunrise on the winter solstice. (See, doesn't that sound really cool? I wanted to see that.)

We then headed to our B&B which was in the coastal town of Skerries. We had fairly good directions but we COULD NOT find the place. We located the road it was on and drove down it at least twice. Nothing. Finally we went to a gas station in town and somebody took pity on us and let us follow her. We had been on the right road, but the B&B was just off the road, on a side road, with no signs. We could have driven all night and never found it. Our first Irish B&B was a bit ... odd. It was run by an older couple, and we were the only guests that night. We were met at the door by one son, and led to the kitchen where the owner was watching soccer (football?) with another son. Both sons left but said their dad would want to talk to us. The owner was on oxygen for "a bad chest infection" and kept hacking. It was awkward. He asked where North Carolina was in relation to Connecticut. He seemed like a nice guy but the constant hacking was a bit off-putting. Eventually we asked for dinner recommendations and he named a few places in town.

We ended up at Stoop Your Head pub, which was lively, and sat at the bar since there were no seats in the restaurant proper. James branched out and tried baked salmon but still apple pie for dessert. I had beef stroganoff.

Posted by Molly at 12:01 AM EST

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