Week three. What a week it was. Sunday was my first radio show and I wasn't feeling quite well so I was a bit shaky but survived. Since then I've been on air three times so I'm becoming a pro. I'm getting on with my women's sports documentary as well.

Last weekend Kim and I escaped to Belfast and I realized how homesick I am--or rather civilization sick. I was so happy in Belfast and Derry. But things have been less lonely around here now that I'm meeting people and have things to look forward to on the weekends.

And last night, we had dinner with this lovely hippy family and then babysat for the baby, Eoghan (pronounced Owen) at the Isle of Dough and I was once again floored by the beauty of this place. The parents, Kathleen and Brendan, are putting on a summer gathering with environmental activists and artists and artisans at the Isle so they had a meeting there. Kim and I walked with Eoghan on the beach to keep him out of his parents' hair. We got on pretty well, me and Eoghan--he reminds me so much of my nephew Daniel. So starting next week I'll be babysitting regularly, every Monday during their summer gathering meeting, in exchange for a homemade meal and good company and a place to crash once a week. I'm quite excited--check out my pictures at ofoto (log in white_kerry_e@hotmail.com, password kerrysinireland)--Eoghan is adorable. Kim unfortunately lives too far to babysit regularly, but she has such a big homestay family, I don't think it means quite as much to have a meal with a family.

But back to the Isle--everything here is not only gorgeous but steeped in history. At the summer gathering meeting we met a local tour guide and story teller who's taking Kim and me out for a drive/hike this weekend. It's so unspoiled, there are stone circles and pagan temples just along people's property. And even the place names are fascinating. One of the mts is called the irish for 'Horse's Hill.' There are no horses, but instead the story is that in olden days your property line was decided by how far your strongest horse could run before passing out, hence Horse's Hill. The Isle of Dough is not an Island but nearly an island--connected to the main peninsula by only a sand bank (now paved into a road.) The name Dough means 'raised sandbank,' so the name makes sense when you know that. Even Carndonagh comes from Carn Domhnach, or Carn of the Sundays, which goes back to St. Patrick's times--places founded by St. Patrick have the word 'Sunday' in them because he's the patron saint of Ireland.

Enough rambling...I'm sure this isn't quite as interesting to everyone else. I'm wiped from my talk show I did today anyway...I committed a cardinal sin of radio, forget my mic was up, flubbed the minidisc, and audibly said 'aw crap.' At least I don't swear too much.

Still miss everyone...still love getting emails and letters ;)

love
kerry