Thursday, April 14, 2011

Don’t sprinkle my donut. I hate eating wet pastries.

When they said that a ‘doctor baker’ was coming to teach a class, I hoped we were going to learn how to treat a cake with a muscle strain (I think it just needs to be iced). Then I realized it was Dr. Baker.
Dr. Beulah Baker is a lively lady. If we would have met her at the airport, I’m certain she would have started lecturing right then. Instead, she kindly waited until she arrived at the YWCA and then began class promptly, even though her biological clock told her it was 4am. She nods a lot, perhaps because she agrees with what she’s saying. I nodded a lot too, mostly off. [Just kidding; she’s a fascinating American.]
We learned quite a bit that week in our Irish literature class. I remember thinking I have no free time. Do I really not have any free time or am I just not using my time wisely? I worked out at the leisure center one day, and consequently stayed up one hour later to finish my homework.
 Conclusion: We really didn’t have any free time.
The reading was intense for the week and a half Dr. Baker was here. Some of the stories were grand. Others were more like the slogan “The greatest fair on earth” on the Hillsdale Grandstand: not true, but it’s painted on there, so let’s believe it anyway. One common theme that coursed through the works we read was awesome quotes. One of my favorites is:
“She took a tick out of his neck and touched the spot where the tick had drawn one pin-prick of blood; it was then they danced.”- Irish Revel
I’m not sure why they were dancing or how they were dancing. Perhaps it was a melancholy party boy, seeing as how the man only had a short time left to live since he probably just contracted Lyme disease.
We ventured to Sligo, Donegal, and Derry to experience the historical and literary significance of the cities. One special bonus to the trip was that we received free dinner from the hotel restaurant every night.  They served bread and three dips on the table at one dinner. I spread what looked like garlic dip on my bread, and it was quite tasty.
Audrey: What is this dip?
Waitress: Tartar sauce.
Mmm, there’s nothing like a hunk of mayonnaise to make a smooth trip for the bread sliding down my gullet.
Unlike man, God saw it was good for bread to be alone.
They gave us a menu of three choices for the main dish at each dinner. One night was lamb, fish and chips, or ham and turkey. I couldn’t bear to eat a cute baby lamb after seeing them frolic in the pastures. I didn’t want anyone yelling, “Ewe murderer!” at me. I’ve decided not to have fish until I can douse it in so much salt it’ll shrivel up. I ordered the ham and turkey; the pig died in vain.
In the times that we weren’t dining, we traveled to the locations mentioned in our books. I wish we would have read from CS Lewis so we could have visited Narnia. Instead, we stood on the street mentioned in the novel Reading in the Dark. We were standing at the very corner Larry had stood on page 52! Well, he totally would have stood there if he had existed. I’ve never followed in the footsteps of a fictional person before; they’re just as hard to see as I expected.
Fog messes everything up. Now I can't see Larry.
We were asked to journal about the different places we visited. Mine consisted of four pages of Sudoku, except for the actual words written about the epic woods in Sligo, because that place was more magical than markers, a young girl’s heart, and unicorns combined.

I'm just scared of how happy I am.

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