Ireland....

All my life I have wanted to go to Ireland.  More than half of my ancestors were from there, my mother having been completely of Irish heritage.

There isn't any other country besides my own U.S.A, of course, that holds a warmer place in my heart. Why is that, I've wondered.  Even before my mother had set foot on Irish soil, she felt the same way.

Is it my Irish genes?  Is it that I love Irish music?  Or is that caused by the genes too?

A friend of mine who is also of Irish ancestry said that when she set foot on Irish soil she felt as though she were arriving home.  I knew what she meant.  When we landed in Ireland this summer while I was still walking across the tarmac with my sister I turned to to her and said, "We're in Ireland."  She Looked at me, smiled, and said, "Yeah."  We both knew how the other was feeling.

We spent four days in Ireland.  Needless to say, we must go back.  The above picture is of the day we took a ferry to the smallest of the Aran Islands, Inishmore, and biked around the island.  It sprinkled most of the day and occasionally rained hard.  I didn't care.  It was gorgeous, even in the rain.  During one downpour I thought that probably my camera which was in a canvas bag was going to be ruined.  And I didn't care.

To be in Ireland with my family....it was just so good.

Such a picturesque island....

 Biking with cousins...

We just couldn't keep from smiling the whole time.  (Here I am with my sister.)