Category / Uncategorized

by shannonchance

Fetching Zeke

Dave and Zeke at the intersection of Mount Vernon and Detroit... home of the lovely Port Norfolk Church building.

Dave and Zeke at the intersection of Mount Vernon and Detroit… home of the lovely Port Norfolk Church building.

We have some fantastic neighbors here in Port Norfolk, particularly the ones who live next door.  Thom’s an architect and Beth teaches school.  We’ve known them since our college days at Virginia Tech.

This past weekend, Dave had responsibility for walking Thom and Beth’s little dog, Zeke, and feeding all their pets.

Pinot is one of the only cats I’ve ever met who doesn’t like Dave.  At all.  (In an unusual twist of fate, he tolerates me fine.)

The two chickens are partial to Dave, as they seem to love any hand that feeds them.

And then there’s the scruffy little bundle of energy, Zeke, who needs to walk at least twice a day.  He’s a cute and friendly little dog.  But he goes completely ballistic when anyone walks or rides past — which can make for some truly embarrassing moments!

Playing ball with Zeke.

Playing ball with Zeke.

The extensive (and growing) list of things that make Zeke act berserk.
Feeding the neighbors’ hungry chickens.
Florida Avenue at dawn Sunday.
by shannonchance

Home with Dave for the Holidays

There’s so much going on that I want to tell you about.  For now, I’ll just say how wonderful it is to be back at home in Portsmouth, Virginia with my Dave.  I’ll show you what life is like here–very soon!

The home of Dave and Shannon Chance in Portsmouth's Port Norfolk Historic District.

The home of Dave and Shannon Chance in Portsmouth’s Port Norfolk Historic District.

Shannon and Dave visiting friends on the way home from the airport.

Shannon and Dave visiting friends on the way home from the airport.

 

by shannonchance

Irish–the Language of Intrigue?

Jonathan Kennedy–a friend studying Irish language and music in Galway–posted a link to a fun Carlsberg commercial. (Just click the link to view the video.)

Semper Ardens Abbey Ale by Carlsberg.

by shannonchance

Running Strong

Our Norfolk breakfast club — Shannon, Dave, Wayne, and Morgan.

Not much time for reflection today – we hit the ground running.

After a lovely farewell breakfast in Norfolk with Wayne, Rose, and Morgan Ringer, we spent much of the day flying to Ireland.  We enjoyed spending the first leg of our flight with Glen McClure, who is now in Westport partaking of breath-taking views of the Atlantic Ocean.

After waiting at Dublin airport in the longest passport control line I have ever encountered, we successfully cleared customs using my brand-spanking new Irish work permit. We sipped coffee at the airport while setting up appointments via Skype and then headed into town.

Lunch with Glen at the Norfolk airport.

Due to a taxi strike, we had to haul my luggage in using one of Dublin’s fine bus companies.  Fortunately, the driver dropped us just a block away from our temporary abode on Kildare Street.  We successfully towed all the bags to the hotel four-handedly!  (Never underestimate the power of Dave or of roll-on luggage.  It took thousands of years for man to put wheels on luggage… we made good use of that discovery today!)

After a quick lunch and a splash in the shower, we were off to find new digs.

We sprinted to our first apartment viewing.

I loved the apartment.  I was certain I would as I’ve scoured the Internet for weeks to find it.  I know the market, and I am pleased with the space, layout, views, sunlight, and appliances in this particular unit.  I tentatively agreed to take it.

Dave with our luggage after clearing customs at Dublin airport.

We decided to keep the second viewing I had booked, but since we had a little time on our hands, we stopped by the yoga studio I’m hoping to use and got a tour from a Brazilian fellow namedWellington. We also went and got two new cell phone numbers.

The second place we visited was also very nice.  It’s located on the grounds of King’s Inn Law school.  Being that the stone row house was built in the 1500’s, and today’s  weather was quite balmy, the house felt cold to me despite being bright and sunny.  I’m sticking with the first one, but hope to hang onto the new friend I met there (another Dave who clearly loves this place and gave us a very fine tour).

We’re currently recuperating.  I now await a dinner of Guinness Pie… having just pried Dave from his jet-lag-induced afternoon slumber.

What I hope will become my new kitchen.

by shannonchance

Outward Bound

Glen McClure took this photo in County Mayo, Ireland. It’s available on his blog.

The day has finally come. My bags are packed, I’m checked in for my flight, and I think I’m ready to fly. I can’t say the same for Dave, who is still furiously editing photos. He’s been working day and night for weeks to meet his clients’ needs and help me get my computer equipment in optimal working order.

Unfortunately, he hasn’t yet started to pack. But no worries… we’ve got 10 hours until we have to bid adieu to our kitties and hit the road.

Marshall McClure, the beautiful and talented owner of Parke Press, will be driving us to the airport. We’ll be flying partway to Ireland with her husband, Glen. He will split from us at JFK because, while we as landing in Dublin, he’ll be landing in Shannon. He is going to spend a couple of weeks doing what he does best… photographing landscapes, people, and the occasional building. He often travels to the western side of Ireland to do so.

Dave and I have our work cut out for us in Dublin. We’ve got get the essentials for living in place. Once settled, we plan to join Glen on the western coast of Ireland for a few days. I’m looking forward to our little camera and Guinness club. I’m just wishing Marshall was going to be there with us, too. She’s one of my all-time favorite people and the party’s not going to be complete without her.

Wish us luck with apartment hunting! We’ll let you know how it goes….

by shannonchance

T-Minus 5 Days

Thanks to Juliology for this image.

Packing to leave, what a chore!  It’s an activity my friend Mason calls “the p-word,” and one that’s an ongoing part of my life.  The task is necessary to satisfy the travel bug inherited from my grandmothers.  It requires projecting oneself into an unknown future, and I typically postpone it until just days before a major trip.

Taking ten months away requires thoughtful preparation.  So, over the past weeks, I’ve labored to anticipate what I’ll need in Dublin.  I’ve worked calmly and methodically, and at times I’ve even enjoyed the process.  But who can predict a year’s worth of needs?  And, isn’t uncertainty part of the fun?

A product of 1970 (born just months after Americans landed on the moon), I came into the world at an optimal time for making trans-Atlantic jaunts.  I feel blessed every time I board a plane, and so very fortunate to have such opportunities in life.  It’s the packing part, however, that stands between each new adventure and me.

At least this time, I have a fair idea of what to expect in that I’ve been to Dublin several times before. It’s been easier than the last time I headed overseas for an extended period.  Departing for Switzerland in 1996, I had $1500 and a round trip airline ticket but no place to live, no job lined up, and only the foggiest notion of how to find accommodation and employment.  Projecting myself into that unknown future was the scariest thing I have ever done.  The world economy was in despair, and my architecture professors clearly feared the worst for me.  I continually reminded myself that I had a ticket home.  I’d use it when the money ran out (which it did just days before my first paycheck arrived).

But I had an unstoppable urge to travel.  I saw an open window of opportunity that I simply had to take.  With a new Master’s diploma, I was free to fly.  I jumped through that window of opportunity into a bright new world, landing on my feet.

During my second week in Switzerland, I snagged an architecture position in the Italian-speaking region called Ticino.  And somehow, at my deepest moment of doubt and worry, a teensy-tiny studio apartment materialized.  It was one that I could afford.

When I returned home 12 months later, I was a wiser, more fulfilled person.

Today’s Internet tools have made visualizing the future much easier.  And this time I have an extensive support system in place.  Many thanks to the Dublin Institute of Technology, Fulbright Ireland, the US State Department, Hampton University, and Dave Chance for helping make all this possible — and to Colleen, Gavin, Sima, Brian, and Mike for extending the invitation to collaborate.  This time, I know where I’ll work and what I’ll do.  I have people to see and projects to do.  I know how I’ll make ends meet.  This time I had the Internet tools to make apartment hunting fun.

All I need now is to clamp my suitcases shut and head out the door with my Dave….

by shannonchance

Don’t Miss a Post!

You should be able to subscribe to this blog by clicking the “+ Follow” button at the bottom right-hand corner, entering your email address, and then confirming your subscription.

If that doesn’t work, please email me and I’ll send you an invite with the link for joining.

by shannonchance

What’s in a Name?

My husband Dave loves to point out that “the mouth of the Shannon is wide and deep.”  Indeed, when we visited the mouth of the River Shannon it was so.

I’d grown up with the impression that my name was Irish–as Irish as my sister Heather’s name.  So it surprised me when I arrived at the Shannon Airport in 2003, ready to rent a car, and the man behind the counter asked me to spell my first name. “Shannon?” I replied. “You know, like the airport!?!”

On that trip, I found driving on the left side of the road wasn’t nearly as difficult as communicating my very Irish-seeming name to the Irish folks I met.

I visited Ireland again in 2010, and discovered the same problem.  Why did so few people click with the name, I wondered?  I realized that even at home, many people heard “Janet” when I introduced myself.  I tried to slow down and enunciate more clearly:  “Heeellllooooo, my name is Shhhaaaannnn-non.”

By my 2012 visit, I’d had a relevation.

“The Irish don’t name their girls Shannon, do they?” I asked Gavin, my colleague at the Dublin Institute of Technology (DIT).

“No, I don’t think so,” he replied. This, despite that fact that Shannon is a well-known last name.

When Gavin asked other lecturers at the DIT, they reported knowing of a couple of (very) young women by the name.  They believed it gained popularity in Ireland due to American television shows… that it was actually imported from the States for use as a first name for women.

So, here’s to Beverly Hills 90210, a show I’ve never actually seen.  You can bet I’ll be hard at work this year, trying to set the bar a little higher for what a girl-Shannon can be.

And I’ll make sure to visit that lovely River Shannon.