How can you not love a book that comes with a little sticker on the front that says "Win a magical stay in an Irish Castle!" All right don't get all judgey. I loves my Can Lit and my chewy nourishing literature too. But sometimes, I need to read a Nora Roberts novel and pretend I'm in her version of Ireland. Some days a person just has to believe they could win a magical stay in an Irish castle, even when the book is from the library and the contest has long expired.
Also, I've been to Ireland and was lost in Dublin with my cousin upon leaving the Guinness factory (unrelated events). So, it's not like I actually believe Ireland is a land of magical castles.
What it is, is a land of magical dairy products. The first morning, at a coffee shop, there was only milk on offer for my coffee. I was about to ask for some cream, when Angela said, "Just try it with the milk. You don't need cream here, the milk is so thick." And she was very right. Magic.
My cousin Angela lives in Ireland, but we're not Irish. Unless you count the time another cousin and I were mistaken for being Irish in a Halifax pub by some of the US Coast Guard.
"I love the Irish!" I overheard the drunken officer say to one of his men, as he watched us dance our improvised jigs and reels to some classic Privateer's Wharf booming celtic tunes.
It is an exquisitely beautiful, warm, sunny May day here and I for one will be enjoying it outside while reading my Nora Roberts amidst the smell of rioting Victoria blossoms and the sound of Violet Green Swallows fighting over nesting material. It's not an Irish castle, but it's magic.