Made in Japan, Outsourced Globally

I have found a real "home" in Ireland. There is a feeling of comfort, Guiness glugging down your pipes, and shoulder-rubbing camaraderie when I go to Ireland.

This time, I couldn't wait to see the "real Ireland," because apparently, I missed it the last time I was in Dublin in the frenzy of St. Patties Day.


The Lane. It's not too hard to imagine Leprechauns leaping out in this magical place.

And who better to show me the "real Ireland" than Steph? I visited Steph's family in Wicklow, where they have a farm house by the beach.

Having tea, hot chocolate and scone with sweet Laura and Steph. I taught her origami all weekend. Da house (to the right)

When we approached the house, Daddy opened the door and welcomed us in. Followed by Laura, the dogs, Mummy, Steph's twin brother, and the wonderful smell of rhubarb tart in the oven. It was lovely. A perfect photograph shot of a "family." The entire weekend was a gastronomical indulgence - plump roasted chicken, new potatoes that smell of the soil and melt in your mouth, sweet garden vegetables, countless baked goods, and...


The world's best apple pie. Mummy's apple pie straight from the oven with rich, milky vanilla ice cream on top. I died and went to heaven with the first bite!

Funny, but I had a 50/50 chance of understanding what was being said. The thick Irish accent was lovely to listen to, but I sometimes didn't know if I was the one being spoken to!

Despite the fact that most of Steph's friends and family were out of town that weekend, it felt like I met a whole lot of people. We left the farm house to head into town for tea, and then visited Gran and her son. She is a fine woman, who looks not a day older than 60. What I find fascinating about Irish people is that they can passionately discuss hours on end about local and national politics and famous figures with anybody and everybody. It is a delight to hear how Senator Mc-somethings and something-oughs have sons who are comedians in the streets. It's distinctly Irish, I believe.

One evening, we went to see a Shakespearean play called "The Merry Wives of Windsor." I forget how funny Shakespearean comedies can be at times. Its basic synopsis is about a greedy man who wants to seduce two wives of wealthy lords in order to get access to their husabands' riches. The wives, however, are clever and punish the trixter in the most embarrassing ways. It goes to show that women are quite cunning and can be cruel when it comes to sneaky men!


On the beach.


Jump! Ben loves to fetch rocks.

I loved every bit of that weekend. Nothing was strenuous. We passed the days as it came. There were new ducklings and a 10-day old calf. Black cats and chickens. Cows in the distance and dogs to scare away the foxes. The fields were green and the breeze grazed our cheeks with ease. A half-mile excursion down the gravel road took us to the gentle blue-green sea.

My heart and mind felt lighter, as if it was washed with the gales and waves of the countryside, and then line dried under the yellow sun.