Getting there is half the battle

Wednesday afternoon I board a plane and leave for Britain and Ireland. This is possibly my first real true vacation. Sure I've had days off here and there, mostly spent with family. Short little trips to various locals but never a long, extended trip at a delicious location.

Needless to say I am very excited. So excited it has practically rendered me mute. It's like all the things I want to say about it get clogged up in my throat and all come out as "Aaaaeeeeee!!!!!!"

I've long been an Anglophile so this trip is more than a dream come true it's epic. I'll be staying with some friends in Liverpool and probably taking little day trips all over. I'm a touch concerned since the friends who've graciously put me up are quite the drinkers and as such I'm afraid I'll be known as the yankee plonker who can't hold her drink. I suspect there will be many a drunken shenanagans.

Then mid-week we'll be taking a trip to Ireland. IRELAND.

My personal goal is to meet a cute red-headed fisherman and somehow seduce him. Eventually we'll settle into a little thatched cottage and I'll drink tea (or whiskey) and knit while our adorable redheaded children sit by the peat fire.

Entirely within the realm of reason, no?

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