When Ireland is Spain

Yes, it is. We have had nearly a month of unabating good weather. Sunny, bright, slightly breezy, low to mid 70's (I think. This whole fahrenheit to Celsius thing is still a bit of an enigma.) For Ireland, this is tantamount to Paradise. It's as if the moody, fickle stormy toddler that is Irish weather woke up one morning and had magically changed into Shirley Temple in the night. Good morning Sunshine. Inexplicable but so welcome. Amazingly, I have managed to get a good bit of colour and even the hint of a sunburn over the past few weeks. I've been able to trot out all my gathering-dust-in-the-back-of-the-closet short skirts and Old Navy five-dollar flip-flops. Truly a beautiful thing. Even up in Donegal last weekend where the weather is at it's most unpredictable, the sun shone strongly and the beaches were packed. All this great weather was in full effect during my parent's visit and I truly think that they don't believe that it actually rains here. They didn't even have to use their umbrellas. We spent the last day of their trip up in Howth (coastal, fishing town.) We sat on the pier in the sun, got fish and chips and ate them out of paper boxes while lying on the grass, took a stroll through the village and picked up oysters and salmon from the fishermen on the pier to take home and feast on that night. If the weather were always this good, I might never leave!