Here I sit on my Pedestal

Here I sit (when I roughed the blog) writing this update on my pedestal with my oversized morning mug of tea while watching all the rainy-day Portrush dog-walkers. Actually, I believe it's more of an ikea bar stool I'm sitting on, but serves the same purpose.

There's a part of Ireland that eats away at my soul and every day a piece of me dies a little. One container at a time. People here do not recycle anything! Well, cardboard if it suits them. I'm throwing away milk jugs, plastic packaging and I feel like all the churches on my doorstep couldn't save me from the dark fires of hell for deliberately filling up the planet with packaging. Over-dramatic much? If you grew up with Katrina Dwulit as your sister, you'd feel guilty for not recycling a toilet paper roll, too! I have an abundance of wine bottles and beer cans I can't bring myself to toss in the trash, I foresee a small living space come summer.

To make up for that earthly injustice the Irish can't be bothered by, they pour a hell-of-a glass of wine. My eyes light up every time I go to the bar to deliver a glass and my inner-voice screams, "you lucky bastards!" Seriously folks, it's a generous 9oz at least. Rule of thumb: pour whatever you would pour yourself, (to the rim).

I must interject: as I write this I am distracted by a couple riding horses on the sandy beach outside my window. If that doesn't paint the prettiest fucking picture then I can't bring you any joy today.

And a side note: This blog has really sparked an overwhelming desire to try and write a novel, chick lit, of course. It's equally created an overwhelming fear of commitment to such a project. Hmmm... And what would I write so much about? Hmm....