Rain Again

So we had a stretch of good weather this past week that allowed us to collect most of our roof supplies. We were hoping for one more clear day during which we could put the roof up. But alas, the "cool damp summer" of Ireland got us and it's now pouring rain. Things had just started to begin to dry out. But no, they are all sopping wet again. And as dreaded, the negative attitude has returned with the rain. I am hoping that this sort of reaction is just the beginning of transitioning to a new non-ideal/Californian climate. Hah.

Today is then a library day because Brian and I are really getting sick of being sidelined by the rain and trying to work through it. It takes so much more mental and physical energy to work in the rain or around the rain and we're starting to fall apart. A break was in order I suppose. The dashed hopes of having a dry place by this weekend have taken their toll. It's led to multiple brainstorming sessions on how people live here. It seems impossible. Everything is always wet. And the worst part, is that this is summer. Winter is worse, or so we've heard.

The other worry that has surfaced prominently since we aren't seeing any results from our expenditures is money. Things are way more expensive here due to our sucky ass dollar. And I'm really worried about money. This combined with "roughing" it has given me a mentality of severe "relative deprivation". It certainly feels a lot different than living an extremely comfortable privileged life in the States. We are nowhere near the same economic bracket. Which I guess I'm not surprised considering Brian and I moved over into a country where our currency exchange is weakened with absolutely nothing. Just sayin' in addition to the rain it makes things mentally difficult. Morale is a rare commodity. We have hung our hopes on this roof and a delay on that hope is tough to handle. We keep telling ourselves things will be better once we have a stove and a dry roof. It's amazing how much of a change being warm and dry makes. Thinking about getting a job here to ease the hemorrhaging of funds is futile considering there is no way I would be able to A) become presentable enough for an interview considering all my clothes smell like camp smoke, I have a hard time keeping my hair clean and the grime on my skin has led to a breakout. Lovely. However, B) if I somehow landed a job, I would need to buy workclothes, things I can't afford and somehow keep them clean and show up presentable for work. Neither of these tasks seem feasible. I am coming closer to understanding the predicament of many who simply cannot land a job due to lack of funds or better yet, a suitable homebase. We lack a launching pad. I considered applying to graduate school in Dublin to help my visa standing but that too is a gargantuan task considering I only have the internet in 30min sessions for a Euro a piece. Alright, enough ranting.

However, with my concerns over our financial situation increase the less and less the above situation of Brian and me exists. We are less and less wealthy Americans choosing 'poverty' (excuse the term, I can't think of a better one, but it's not poverty) over luxury and more and more poor 'immigrants' (again this language is apalling but I am struggling here to find a better way to discuss our situation.) What do you all think? It seems strange for all of these people to say upon viewing our house that it is a piece of junk. The walls are beautiful and solid, the roof needs repair, the backyard is overgrown but expansive and inviting. I mean, I think this house is fantastic (as a project mind you!). It would break my heart to demolish it. And on the other hand, I simply don't have the money to tear it down and build a new house.

On a lighter note, Syd has said she may be here as early as next month which would be absolutely fantastic. Brian and I are not only desperate for a warm dry place but extra help and a third personality. So far we are doing well with each other considering the circumstances but the thinner our tempers become the more potential for an eruption. We'll see.

We have officially started keeping track of our Mint Magnum (an ice cream bar) to Pints of Beer count. There is a filling station close to our house that we walk by every time we go into town, or to the Co-Op and have thus dedicated all coin money to the Mint Magnum fund. They are delicious and we are buying much more of them than beer. Since we started keeping track we have had two Mint Magnums and zero pints. I'll try to update the tally as we go along here. Although, the Mint Magnum's have an unfair advantage as they are closer and cost only €1.50 as opposed to the cheapest pint which I believe is somewhere around €3.50 Anyway, there's some comedy for you. The few institutions we frequent are getting to know us as regulars and smile when we come in. Some have even started giving us our regular orders without us having to order. When we walk into the library they immediately check the computer availability for us. When we walk into the small diner called The Cranberry they give us ketchup (instead of vinegar) for our "chips" before we've ordered them. And the two women who work the filling station counter smile when we walk in knowing we're in for two more Mint Magnums.

Brian and I have also decided we need to start Wedding Crashing, because there is at least one sometimes two a week. Its wedding season I suppose, summer, yeah. So we have yet to arrange a meeting with the local priest (we figure that's a good way in) Perhaps attending Mass would be a good start. Hah. We are nowhere near suitable enough for Mass.

I am trying to remember if there was anything else I meant to log before signing out. This is already a bit of a long entry but the library is closed Sundays and Mondays so I won't be able to post until Tuesday. Hopefully by then we will be working on the roof again. As for another delightful image that you'll have to create with your mind, I spent much of yesterday shoveling and spreading 1000kg of small stones around the yard and muddy problem areas of the house. Yes, all by myself while Brian was preparing the wooden rafters. Me, shoveling 1 ton of stone. I was definitely tired and my hands are rough and covered in blisters. I have a feeling you guys would not believe a lot of what I write. It's sometimes hard for me to believe we're doing all this, living like this, etc. It's quite funny I guess when you look at it. Haha. It truly is. If it all goes up in flames (as if it could here, hah) then I suppose it was good while it lasted. I definitely have a well rooted seed of doubt living with me now. This may definitely fail. And I might not have any money left to go traveling. Ah well. As Brian and I have been joking. Deportation is a free ticket home.