On Saturday afternoons the sidewalk in front of Saint Andrew’s smells of fish and salty water. The morning market has a seafood stand, and little pools of Irish ocean color the pavement around the stand a dark, smelly grey that lingers long after the market is over and the stand dismounted. When I pass by, I wonder who’s bought fish that day and whom they will cook it for, and I also wonder if other people wonder about things like this as well.
Continue reading “Vermeer on Sunday”
The question of how much of my time I spend doing things I love versus just doing things occupies lots of my brain’s capacity. Like, what the hell am I doing in Ireland out of all places? It’s gorgeous here, mystical, totally unexpected. People say things like, Hey lads, and What’s the craic?, they eat lots of butter, and I love them for it. But still. I don’t mind going to the office either, I don’t mind calculating things and analysing things and planning things, but it doesn’t fill my heart with joy. Here’s what does: Jumping into freezing cold oceans, indulging in scrumptious veggie meals, feeling connected to people. I guess it’s the latter that keeps me at Google, because I genuinely do like a lot of the people there. Continue reading “The things I love”
I don’t think it’s much of a secret that I am a sucker for all things sweet involving oatmeal and fruit. There are few things I enjoy as much as chewy, nutty, wholesome bites of a granola bar with my afternoon cappuccino. Except for that one caveat: store-bought granola bars are either so loaded with fat and sugar they cover a grown man’s daily calorie intake requirements, or–and I’m pretty sure this is worse–they taste of sticky nothingness with a hint of artificial sweeteners.
Continue reading “Oatmeal bars with strawberries: The chewy, healthy, guilt-free kind”