No Plans Whatsoever

I’m one of those unique and strange women who love to hear the slam of a hockey stick on ice and the smell of fresh cut wood in a hardware store. I’d rather be fishing than shopping, and I love to tinker with the new electric drill my mom gave me for my birthday. I’ve drilled holes all over my garage walls just trying out the different bits and speeds. It’s so cool.

I have plenty of girly-girl clothes in my closet and bling in my drawers, but my favorite shoes are my converses and flip flops. Or better yet – no shoes at all.

And I’d rather be digging in the dirt in my garden than shaking hands at a gala. 

I’m not big into designer clothes – cotton is cotton I say – and I rarely spend more than twenty dollars on sunglasses because they have a way of walking away on a weekly basis.  (I like to think all my lost sunglasses have gone to good use by someone who really really needed them.)

To me, horizons don’t represent an end…but the potential for a beginning. And a sunset on that horizon doesn’t mean the sun is gone, it means that the moon is on it’s way.

My ipod is stacked with over 400 eclectic songs…country, classical, Broadway, Gaelic and pop, and I’ve been caught outside more than once - headphones on - singing out loud to my favorite tunes while working in my garden.

I would rather be baiting my hook with a live shrimp somewhere on a boat in the Gulf than sitting at a fancy restaurant eating shrimp.

All of these things are just a few of the thousands of pixels that make up the whole of me. 

Have you ever given thought to what makes the whole of you?

I’m comfortable in my own skin and content with life in general and have absolutely nothing to prove to anyone. Really.

Which is why the time is right for this solo trip to Ireland.  Being comfortable in your own skin is important when you are traveling over 4,000 miles to meet 4.5 million people and have pretty much no plan.

Right now the only definite plan I have is that I will definitely land in Dublin – I will definitely stand on the port in Cobh - and I will definitely return home.

Otherwise, I’m taking a cue from my ancestor, John Murphey, who left Ireland in 1807, and who - I’m guessing here – most likely didn’t have a plan.  If it was good enough for him, it’s good enough for me.

My friends and family are all over the place on this. Some think it’s exciting and some look at me sadly like they may never see me again.

But I’m beyond excited about this trip. Maybe I did get some of young John Murphey’s sense of adventure after all.

Who will be my first new unsuspecting Irish friend?  What will be the first word I hear spoken in that beautiful Irish lilt? (Which, by the way was voted the sexiest voice in 2009)

Is Ireland really as green as they say? How many pub stories will I hear and will they make me laugh out loud or even cry? How well will I navigate the roads and will a lost road lead me toward something I never expected to find? 


Will I see smiling Irish eyes? Will any pub top the fish and chips I love at Flannigans in Dunedin? Will I be brave enough to try out the 4 or 5 gaelic words I know?

Will I miss someone when I leave there?

If you are from Ireland and you are reading this – talk to me.

Or if you have been to Ireland and you have a story to share, then share. Paint me a picture of your Ireland and what I can expect to experience.  Tell me where I should go to fill in the time in between landing and leaving.

Travel with me on this amazing journey of celtic discovery.