It’s officially summer, here in the world’s coldest capital, and that means only one thing. Just as the weather gets bearable, I go somewhere else. In this case, sunny Ireland. My sister-in-law, who has proceeded us in securing an Irish beach head for our impromptu family reunion, puts it thusly in a rather panicky email:

“My advice to you: make sure you have good rain gear.  I do not mean that you must bring rain gear.  You must bring GOOD rain gear.  I found out that my MEC rain jacket and Keen shoes are no longer waterproof.  I came back from a hike on a relatively sunny day entirely and absolutely soaked.  I’ve never experienced that, not even in Vancouver!  I will have to look for good rain gear in Dublin, but it should be easy to find as it rains every day.”
So, that’s awesome. On the other hand, she conceded in a later email that “…the sun does come out sometimes.” My Glaswegian uncle claims that it’s been a brilliant summer so far, weather-wise. Differing standards? Perhaps. Still, I grew up on the West Coast. I can stand a little rain. My SIL’s problem obviously is that she’s been going hiking. I plan to spend much of my vacation inside museums and pubs.

Also, shopping. I’m hoping the airports are all stuffed with excellent souvenirs like this one, or that taxi drivers will have such things hanging from their rear-view mirrors.

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I can add it to my collection of similarly excellent memorabilia like this:

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My cat loves it when I go on vacation.

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