Just people watching

I am not the usual tourist.  I haven't quite made it to the area everyone goes. I haven't purchased a postcard yet, either.  The things I have done are as follows:

Last night, I went to dinner with an older Italian gentleman who works in Dublin off and on and stays in the hostels. (not a date!- not as romantic as it sounds) Got a chance to eat traditional irish stew which incited in me a more ravishing hunger for french food. (can we say bland) I drank a Guinness brewed across town. . . milky and delicious.  Despite the language barrier (supposedly Italian schools are bad) we ended up talking about many things: politics, healthcare (wait aren't those the same things in the U.S.?) I sympathized with the fact that in a week or two it will be me in his shoes, trying to convey large concepts with simple words. 

This morning I decided to attend church (why not, its Sunday and I haven't been in a while- maybe 20 years).  I had spotted a beautiful little church in my neighborhood. It had old stone architecture and big wooden doors beckoning. The Unitarian sermon sealed the deal. Plus, I needed an excuse to hear an Irishman speak for an hour. I entered. It was an Irish woman! She was describing the trees and the birds. My kind of church!  There was a choir and an Organ that echoed up to the walls covered in stained glass. I got to sing!!!! and anyone who knows me knows how much I love to sing.  The sermon was quite different than most church sermons discussing how to ask for forgiveness for all the rules your breaking. She actually discussed how to rethink all the rules we have set for ourselves and perhaps throw them out the window. 
She said:
 {Just like the silly old rules of what to eat in the bible.  These things come from a time when the rule was needed to solve a problem. A problem that no longer exists.}
It is interesting when you go to church and are told to break rules.

Spent the afternoon people watching, drinking coffee and reading.  There really are a lot of redheads here.  These redheads come in more colors than an Clairol bottle could think of.  The Irish are really beautiful, with their childlike features, freckles and deep soulful eyes.

Another thing I was surprised by was how much the old people like ice cream. Even on a cold and rainy day. Every old person was licking off cones. I saw an old man with it dripping off his mustache.  Some even had sprinkles. I was surrounded by grey haired children. It was just fantastic!!