The closest thing I'm getting to a siesta these days is either a comfortable retreat beneath my blankets or a few stolen moments in an empty greenhouse that feels like summer even if the dried leaves underfoot tell of autumn. All too soon I'll be leaving the blustery green hills of Northern Ireland for the snow-covered East Coast and back to reality. It rarely feels like real life when I'm here; my visits are too short for the days to fall into routine and moments of stress or annoyance are always overwhelmed with gratitude to be with Thomas and planting a few roots. It will be hard living far away from my family, but I'm definitely ready to tie up loose ends in the States and buy that one way ticket to the Emerald Isle...
CONVERSATION