I suppose every country needs its excuse to set of fireworks. The US has the 4th of July, I'm told it's New Year's Eve in Germany. Here in Northern Ireland? It's Halloween. There are quite obviously plenty of outlets for illegal fireworks, lighting up the entire city and makig it sound as though it were under siege. I really would have liked to watch it all from the mountain, it would have been a fabulous show, but it was pretty exciting to experience Halloween right in the middle of it all. Few of the yp were about, so it wasn't too successful as a night of detached work, but really, I've never seen anything like it. Literally every corner of the city had major firework shows (although only one was official), with real, Washington DC-on-the-4th-of-July size fireworks. We saw some people setting them off in pretty stupid ways...but we (and the people we were passing) appeared to make it through the night ok.

I took a field trip to Glengormley today. It a small suburb just north of Belfast, and their library was the closest that had the book I need. Due to completely illogical policies, I had to go to them to pick up the book (libraries in NI need help). I go on the bus, no problem, and confirmed with the bus driver that this bus stopped in Glengormley. This led to a conversation about where the stop was that left me utterly faithless in my ability to communicate. Eventually I just nodded and sat down, clueless. And then I got a bit anxious. How the heck would I know where I was and when to get off? I texted M, who was great, and sent me the names of the two biggest stops just before mine. And when we passed those and I began to panic, I turned to the gentleman across the aisle, admitted my ignorance and learned that he could not hear. Apparently he reads lips pretty well, got the jist of glen-gorm-ley, and was ever so kind to put away his book and direct me as to when to get off. Mission accomplished.

I get off the bus and attempt to look intent upon reaching my destination, except that I have no idea how to get to my destination. So I walk. I call into a charity shop (there's a great skirt on the rack, but I don't feel like shopping) and ask the woman at the counter for directions to the library. Finally I set out, for the first time, actually intent upon reaching my destination. Lesson learned in the past two years: there's nothing quite like the feeling of successfully using resources and accomplishing small adventures on your own. Like all libraries, it was small, and it took about one minute to pick up the book, but it was in a pretty neighborhood so I walked for a bit and stood under the trees out front, listening to the birds sing as though it was the first day of spring.

The rest of the day I spent reading. I read in Clements over coffee and a panini, I read in the Central Library. It's so refreshing to have a day on my own, productive still, but relaxing.