Well, I have a journal. Let's hear it for personal discoveries!
Melancholy. That is a word that describes my mood right now. Why is that, one might ask? Well, you see, I don't know. Hope that helps. It could be the fact that I don't want to be where I am right now, which is work. Not that my weekend promises to be action-packed or anything. Just that I don't want to be here anymore. And I am inflicting upon myself the most exquisite torture known to mankind. I am listening to Celtic Radio. Na, na, na...I love Celtic Radio, but you must understand, for me it is torture.
You see, I have never been to the land of my ancestors. (That would be Scotland.) But I miss it like I would miss breathing if I stopped. I don't understand this homesickness for a land which I have never visited, let alone lived in. I have heard it said that you can take a Scot out of Scotland, but you can never take Scotland out of a Scot. I think this is the case.
So every note of a reel, every ornamentation tugs at my heart. Just reading the description of a Scottish Farmhouse brought tears to my eyes. I don't understand it, but I need to visit there soon or I fear I will go to pieces. So as I listen to bagpipes and whistle and the bodhran, I sit here dreaming that I am inhaling the heady aroma of peat-smoke and heather. Feeling the mist of Scotland touch my face. Listening to the wonderful lilts of the accented speech of the Scot. Upending a glass of ale into my mouth while having conversations with the locals. This is the stuff of dreams.
Well, reality settles in my heart like a stone. Namely, the fact that all of that took about 8 minutes to write and I still have work to do. Goodbye for now!