Halfway Done (Seriously?)

Months and months went by after I decided to do this a year or so ago and Ballymaloe still seemed so far away. It was semi-fictional. I had visions and theories of what it would be like and I read all of the information sent. This is getting repetitive I know but I’ll it bears repeating just how hard it was to wrap my head around the fact that I was quitting the only life I knew for the past 10 years. But now here I am halfway through having a hard time grasping that it’s almost over. Relatively speaking, 6 weeks is a large chunk of time to be somewhere. And yet we’re so busy here and I’m having so much fun that it all blends together in to one wild ride.

I’ll save talking about this ending until closer to that happening. That’s going to be a tough blog to write. But there is a positive here. And that’s that I’m going to continue pursuing stuff I actually like doing. The pursuit of happiness doesn’t have to end. It won’t be easy, especially once my travel budget runs out, but it doesn’t have to end. I have some real decisions to make soon on what’s next for me. I definitely want to travel more but I also want to start gaining valuable experience in the food service industry (which has a WIDE variety of possibilities, not just restaurants. Think anything from catering to food writing). Temp work is a realistic option. But at some point before I dive in fully to earning a living in this world I am going to set myself up somewhere remote with zero distractions, possibly Mexico or South America or maybe the mountains. The goal is to write business plans, both for life and for actual businesses. I do know now for a fact that setting up my own gig will happen. If it fails, so be it. Chaos is a ladder right?

I wrote some thoughts down while relaxing outside my cottage the other day. It was back on the topic of being present. The first thoughts were from the kitchen that morning, when I stopped what I was doing and scanned the room to take in my environment. I had this huge smile watching what has become “business as usual” at cooking school . Most people’s hair is on fire (not literally, yet) panicking to get their recipes done on time. Teachers are hovering over students polishing techniques. Someone is feeding me something they made. Other people are laughing their laughs that have become SO familiar by now. There are certain people that have those contagious laughs that just make you feel good.  Then I wrote about my environment outside the kitchen. I started with the sounds. There are hundreds of hawks that circle around the skies. It’s quite ominous. Together they make a chorus of what you’d expect to hear from a flock of ominous looking birds. There are ALWAYS roosters crowing and cows mooing. With 6 weeks blending together like they are it’s times like these thinking “where the F am I?” to myself that I’ll always remember. As long as I write it down. Cause my memory seriously sucks, even as present as I am.

From a learning perspective I continue to get more confident. I can even get my way through butchering a processed animal. But I also realize that there are only 6 weeks left and I really don’t know anything. If I was thrown in to a pro kitchen tomorrow I’d collapse. In fact, I was the closest I’ve ever been to losing my cool the other day when I was super pressed for time and had to peel 4 lbs of cooked potatoes that were all the size of large gumballs. I had pheasant resting that I needed to make gravy for too as well as carrots that needed glazing. So yeah, peeling potatoes sucks. As much as I enjoy being here, peeling potatoes sucks. It just does. What this potato water boils down to is that I could be in school for years and nothing will compare to real experience, even if I start off peeling potatoes. At some point I’ll probably get really good at peeling potatoes. Peeling potatoes will still suck, but at least I’ll be efficient at it. Potatoes.

From a social perspective a crew of us headed out to Galway area this past weekend. Monday was a bank holiday in Ireland so we took advantage of the long weekend. We actually stayed right outside Athenry. Which is significant because I’ve been listening to No Use For A Name’s version of “The Fields of Athenry” since Junior High and never once did I think I’d actually step foot there. Athenry is pure, beautiful, green Irish countryside. Our house can best be described as appropriate for scotch, whiskey and Republicans. The dining room had large ornate oil paintings of what I assume is past generations of patriarchs. We had a dinner party the first night and all ate around the rich mahogany table. Surely we coursed out the dinner party and treated it like we were in school. Executing everything was actually a ton of fun, along with plenty of wine and old fashioneds. We served an ornate cheese board, several crostinis, braised short ribs with a ton of red wine reduction served over polenta, brussel sprouts (in season) and a chocolate pudding.

Galway itself was a pleasant surprise. It had a lively social scene with great energy which was expected. What wasn’t expected/known was that it’s a hub for the arts. I saw the most eerie Halloween parade that must have been put on by a professional theater company. What I thought was going to be time wasted fighting crowds for a cheesy parade turned in to a highlight of the weekend.

That’s all for now. I feel like that past few posts have been a bit rusty since I couldn’t post for so long. I’m feeling more caught up now and ready to get back to work trying to make this blog great and entertaining!

I’ll leave you with an excerpt from one of my favorite quotes ever by Hunter S. Thompson – “Buy the ticket, take the ride.” Go ahead and stash that one away in your quote bank. Actually, even better, buy the damn ticket and take the darn ride.

Thanks for reading.