Back To The Motherland: 30 Days About Me

I am an Irish American. With a name like Erin, you probably figured that out already. On my mom's side, we are descendants of the Howards (who really are Welsh, but also lived in Ireland) and my dad's grandparents were Pierson and Rose Gilliland, who were first generation Americans; my grandma Sally, their daughter, married Harold Harris, also Irish. So I'm pretty much an Irish gal who was born in America.

I have always wanted to see Ireland. To see the land where my ancestors came from, to breathe the air, to see the green, green fields, to drive the narrow country roads and eat at a pub while drinking some warm beer (dark beer, please, not this yellow stuff we American's call beer). I want to walk the streets of Dublin and Galway, stay in some country castle turned hotel-estate, and eat corned beef and cabbage where my great-great grandmother learned to cook it.

When I was in England I met an older Irish man who on first glance though I was Irish, too. He told me that Ireland was calling me home, and that I had her soil in my veins. If that's not a call to the motherland, I don't know what is.

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Dreaming of London

I have a dream of chucking in this Ohioan life and moving to London. I'd find some inexpensive yet incredibly lavish and huge flat in Marylebone, just because I am that charmed.

Inside, I'd have this fab "Ode to England" room, which my posh London friends would think over the top and a tad garish. But then they'd remember that, after all, I am American, and my English Springer Spaniel is adorable.

There would be a private garden in our square. Those who walked by would wonder just what was behind such a charming door.

I would have scones and clotted cream with my tea (no sugar, no cream)

Who needs to own a car? Just seeing the Underground signs makes my heart giddy.

I will walk the streets that the great ones walked to shop at Vivienne Westwood, Liberty of London, the Portobello Road Markets, and Spitalfield's Market.

Oh, and this little shop, where from which I furnish my garish "Ode to England" room.

I will eat at the World Food Cafe in Neal's Yard, after my Osteopathic treatments and finding my homeopathic remedies at Neal's yard Remedies.

Of course, you know, I haven't thought about it much, but I have this dream of living in London.

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I am blown away by [ r ♥ c e y t ♥ y ] {I br♥ke for bokeh}'s flickr photostream. Pure bokeh perfection.

A Baby Changes Everything

By Faith Hill

Teenage girl, much too young
Unprepared for what's to come
A baby changes everything

Not a ring
On her hand
All her dreams and all her plans
A baby changes everything



The man she loves she's never touched
How will she keep his trust
A baby changes everything

And she cries, oh she cries

She has to leave, go far away
Heaven knows she can't stay
A baby changes everything



She can feel it's coming soon
There`s no place, there`s no room
A baby changes everything



And she cries and she cries o she cries

Shepherds all gather round
Up above a star shines down
A baby changes everything



Choir of angels say
Glory to the newborn king
A baby changes everything
Everything, everything, every day



HALLELUJAH!

My whole life is turned around
I was lost and now i`m found
A baby changes everything



""I am the resurrection and the life. He who believes in me will live, even though he dies; and whoever lives and believes in me will never die." John 11:25 - 26

Merry Christmas - May His love shine down on you today and always.