Sunday morning - awake at 8:30. So that means I slept little. Once I got back early this morning I was too wired to sleep much. Ah, no matter, it was absolutely worth it.
It's a chilly wet day. Looking out my kitchen window there was fog in the valley nearby. It was kind of ethereal looking. That did not take away from how wet it was. It has rained softly all day long. But, I had laundry to do. The idea of hanging my clean clothes on the outdoor line was not going to happen. I do have to go outdoors and unlock the door to the "laundry room" which is located in this building but with no interior access. The trip back and forth was made a few times to get everything clean.
Several loads of laundry later, I find the cottage resembles a giant disorderly clothesline. Luckily it is extremely unlikely that anyone will pop over. The hot press has been put into service and I shall have warm jammies tonight.
Having had a long conversation about the Abrahams last night I decided to dig into the records again to see what I could come up with. I was able to combine all the screen shots of records could be combined into one note in Evernote. Great. However, now that I have a lovely serviceable printer, the notes don't print. Ugh. A support request has been duly dispatched to the Evernote techs. Hopefully they will respond quickly with a solution.
I have not made any further breakthroughs but remain hopeful. The next lead is just around the corner.
Apparently the weather will be pretty dry tomorrow in Scandinavia - lovely for them. It promises to continue to be damp hereabouts.
My Irish phone seemed to have disappeared. I thought I might have left it at Coolross but that was not the case. I tried using my Canadian phone to call it. Although I can make unlimited calls within Ireland I could not figure out the combination of codes to enter in front of the actual number. Nor could I use it to phone Coolross. So - Skype to the rescue. Mary being very accommodating, called the mobile number to help me find it and I heard it ring. Finding it took a minute or so, but there it was tucked into a pocket of my laptop case. And, for the first time, I successfully answered without shutting off the call. I'd been swiping the wrong way. What a dummy!
Despite the rain, all's right in my world and I look forward to the week ahead. I'm pretending that weekends make a difference to me instead of every day being just like every other day.
Slan
Sunday, January 29, 2017
Saturday, January 28, 2017
A night to remember
Am now re-reading this post and find that my brain was not functioning in the spelling and grammar realm at 1:30 am this morning. So I'm going to try to correct the errors. I've had an internet connection all day today - first time in a week that it has not gone down for hours at a time. I think it somehow knows that the provider has been contacted and is aware of the issue. Too late little signal - you will soon be reinforced, or at least I hope so.
Just got back to Moss Cottage - it's 1:30 am and it was a fantastic evening. If the internet had not gone down here I would never have gone to Coolross. I'm taking advantage of the fact that the connection is working at the moment and the events are fresh in my mind.
After the chores were all done, Jim and Mary decided to take in the evening of Irish music at Egan's pub down the road. Despite wanting to get back to my cottage and try to get a good night's sleep, I decided to join them for a bit. That was around 10:30.
Well on the way in, Mary introduced me to Kathleen who bought me a Smithwick's, which was very hospitable of her. We talked a bit above the din and it seems she has a connection to Fitzpatricks from Cavan. Now that has been a brick wall for me. Fingers crossed - again - that some helpful tidbit of information makes its way to me.
We found seats and were enjoying the music when Lawrence Egan asked the group for quiet. He was the same one who played for us in 2009 at our fabulous Byrne-Burns get together at that same pub. The musicians were his friends. Well it turns out that there were a couple of story-tellers and singers in the house and Lawrence wanted us to enjoy the hilarious recitations.
The long comical poems were hugely entertaining. It would be hard to pick my favourite but probably the tale of the farmer who had to take over the running of the house when his wife got the flu. Any attempt to re-tell the tale would be too far from doing it justice. The tale, by the same chap, of a couple who went on holiday to Mallorca, was equally entertaining as was the story of the unfortunate chap who couldn't find a wife. Apparently the chap in the poem is off to Lisdoonvarna in September to find a wife and stop his nephews from seeking to inherit his land.
And there were songs - equally comical and entertaining. The music was also excellent in between the tale-telling and the singing.
Then there was a long conversation with Sarah, when I found that she is related to Jim and knew about the Abraham family I'd been researching. Exchanging what information I could recall from recent searches, one mystery was cleared up. The Abrahams at Boley and Mungahullen were brothers. And the Abraham in Craanford is also related. So now to compile what I've got and send her the information to see where it all leads.
My voice is pretty much gone from trying to hold up my end of the conversation over the din. Nobody talked over the singers and story-tellers, but while they were enjoying their drinks, we tried to chat.
So - all because of misfortune - well bad luck from the "missing" internet - I had a most amazing evening. I stopped at the one small beer, knowing the road home is narrow, winding and almost deserted at night. There was frost on the car and I knew the roads could be slippery. Driving carefully and somewhat slower than usual, I made it home. When I found the internet connection to be working, I got "write" down to business.
Fatigue is setting in so I shall sign off, faithful readers, knowing that for me, in Ireland, most really good things follow some sort of "not so good" thing.
Slan
PS - it is now Sunday and I hardly slept. I did manage to get up at a normal hour and perhaps reset my internal clock and start keeping regular hours. I do find however, that the Irish are great at staying up until all hours, and still functioning perfectly well the next day, starting quite early.
Just got back to Moss Cottage - it's 1:30 am and it was a fantastic evening. If the internet had not gone down here I would never have gone to Coolross. I'm taking advantage of the fact that the connection is working at the moment and the events are fresh in my mind.
After the chores were all done, Jim and Mary decided to take in the evening of Irish music at Egan's pub down the road. Despite wanting to get back to my cottage and try to get a good night's sleep, I decided to join them for a bit. That was around 10:30.
Well on the way in, Mary introduced me to Kathleen who bought me a Smithwick's, which was very hospitable of her. We talked a bit above the din and it seems she has a connection to Fitzpatricks from Cavan. Now that has been a brick wall for me. Fingers crossed - again - that some helpful tidbit of information makes its way to me.
We found seats and were enjoying the music when Lawrence Egan asked the group for quiet. He was the same one who played for us in 2009 at our fabulous Byrne-Burns get together at that same pub. The musicians were his friends. Well it turns out that there were a couple of story-tellers and singers in the house and Lawrence wanted us to enjoy the hilarious recitations.
The long comical poems were hugely entertaining. It would be hard to pick my favourite but probably the tale of the farmer who had to take over the running of the house when his wife got the flu. Any attempt to re-tell the tale would be too far from doing it justice. The tale, by the same chap, of a couple who went on holiday to Mallorca, was equally entertaining as was the story of the unfortunate chap who couldn't find a wife. Apparently the chap in the poem is off to Lisdoonvarna in September to find a wife and stop his nephews from seeking to inherit his land.
And there were songs - equally comical and entertaining. The music was also excellent in between the tale-telling and the singing.
Then there was a long conversation with Sarah, when I found that she is related to Jim and knew about the Abraham family I'd been researching. Exchanging what information I could recall from recent searches, one mystery was cleared up. The Abrahams at Boley and Mungahullen were brothers. And the Abraham in Craanford is also related. So now to compile what I've got and send her the information to see where it all leads.
My voice is pretty much gone from trying to hold up my end of the conversation over the din. Nobody talked over the singers and story-tellers, but while they were enjoying their drinks, we tried to chat.
So - all because of misfortune - well bad luck from the "missing" internet - I had a most amazing evening. I stopped at the one small beer, knowing the road home is narrow, winding and almost deserted at night. There was frost on the car and I knew the roads could be slippery. Driving carefully and somewhat slower than usual, I made it home. When I found the internet connection to be working, I got "write" down to business.
Fatigue is setting in so I shall sign off, faithful readers, knowing that for me, in Ireland, most really good things follow some sort of "not so good" thing.
Slan
PS - it is now Sunday and I hardly slept. I did manage to get up at a normal hour and perhaps reset my internal clock and start keeping regular hours. I do find however, that the Irish are great at staying up until all hours, and still functioning perfectly well the next day, starting quite early.
Oh no, I have to go to Carlow!
I'm currently connected at Coolross. Desperate to verify some townland maps that I had started exploring last night, it was so frustrating to find there was no web access at home this morning. It's worse because I will connect from time to time and then within a few minutes the signal is gone. I had also puzzled through some old information and had some new insights - or rather new guesses. Still no breakthrough. But without internet I felt adrift. The weather looked lovely but despite the sun it was cold outside.
Well having wrestled with connecting the new printer, which simply cannot function wirelessly with my laptop, I knew I had to get a cable and end the problem once and for all. Inquiries led to the conclusion that the best option was Curry's in Carlow. That's 30 minutes away.
My GPS was unable to find the store but when I used my phone to look for a website to get a precise address, when I got connected to the website, Google Navigation seemed to sense my need for assistance. It offered directions (even Google knows of my propensity for getting lost) and given the useless GPS I let Google lead me. Perfect directions, easy to follow - well until I was almost there. It only took an extra loop around a couple of roundabouts and I was at Curry's.
Purchase of the cable was easy and I had a nice chat with the clerk. He was from Portugal. I asked him if there was anything around that was worthwhile visiting. He misunderstood. I was thinking locally and he was thinking nationally. Kerry, Cork and Galway are all hours away - but good suggestions anyway.
Anyway, on leaving the computer shop, I decided to look for the Penney's store which, as it turned out, is in downtown Carlow. Oh dear - that's where I exasperated the GPS several years ago. Do you suppose it remembered and that's why it wouldn't help me with directions? On the other hand, I think it was a borrowed GPS last time anyway.
So, this nasty little machine did concede to give me directions to Carlow shopping centre. It only took a tour of the entire central area before I got to where I wanted to go. When that little voice on the windshield directed me to turn it was always when I was half way through the intersection or roundabout. Well, I got not exactly there, but close enough. I parked the car, took the ticket because parking wasn't free, and then only had to ask two more people how to find Penney's. I'm hopeless.
It was sunny today but deceptive. It was darn chilly. OK cold! Just because I'm from Canada does not mean that I enjoy being chilled to the bone. If only I'd worn another layer. Anyway, I found Penney's and it's quite a neat store. Great prices and quite a few attractive items. I settled for pyjamas, a scarf (mine are decorative but I needed a warm one), a pair of slippers, and a kit of small empty plastic bottles to decant shampoo and conditioner for my trip to England. I'm only taking a carry-on and thus liquids are limited.
I did find my way back to the car without having to ask anyone. Figuring that I would slip a couple of Euro in a slot on the way out, I drove to the exit. HAH! Of course you have to pay in advance. I had not seen any pay stations. [They are INSIDE the part of the shopping centre that I did not visit.] There were only 3 cars behind me that also had to back up. Stupid tourist! I felt badly and imagined what they were muttering about me. Eventually I found out where the pay station was, paid the fee, got the ticket and I was off.
Easy-peasy to get out of town. Not so fast. This was Carlow, my directional nemesis. The route from the parking lot to N80, the road home, is far more direct than the one I took. I had told the GPS where I was headed, the usual one when heading home, and it told me where to go. Repeatedly, and on different streets. There are some quite nice housing areas. Grrrr - I was not looking for a place to live.
Once on the highway it was my great good fortune to find the slowest car in all of Ireland in front of me. Lovely! The road is good, has paved shoulders, is well banked on curves and is really not a problem to drive at or at least near the speed limit of 100 kph. This idiot was motoring along at 67. It took a while but I finally found a nice clear stretch and was able to pass. That's the last I saw of him, and by that time, the long parade behind him.
Returning to Moss Cottage I found that the Internet connection was still down. Then it came back for about 2 minutes. Turns out the fault lies outside of the house - the landlord's house. The provider will attempt a repair within 5 business days. Ah the joys.
So I came to Jim and Mary's at Coolross and am enjoying their wifi - as well as the company. The kids are all studying, both Ricky and Maria have exams coming up.
I'll toddle off shortly and hope that maybe tomorrow the connection will be better at the cottage. The weather doesn't sound too good so touring won't be on the agenda either. There's a pile of books begging to be read. I won't lack for something to do.
Enough drivel for now. Not sure when I'll write the next post.
Well having wrestled with connecting the new printer, which simply cannot function wirelessly with my laptop, I knew I had to get a cable and end the problem once and for all. Inquiries led to the conclusion that the best option was Curry's in Carlow. That's 30 minutes away.
My GPS was unable to find the store but when I used my phone to look for a website to get a precise address, when I got connected to the website, Google Navigation seemed to sense my need for assistance. It offered directions (even Google knows of my propensity for getting lost) and given the useless GPS I let Google lead me. Perfect directions, easy to follow - well until I was almost there. It only took an extra loop around a couple of roundabouts and I was at Curry's.
Purchase of the cable was easy and I had a nice chat with the clerk. He was from Portugal. I asked him if there was anything around that was worthwhile visiting. He misunderstood. I was thinking locally and he was thinking nationally. Kerry, Cork and Galway are all hours away - but good suggestions anyway.
Anyway, on leaving the computer shop, I decided to look for the Penney's store which, as it turned out, is in downtown Carlow. Oh dear - that's where I exasperated the GPS several years ago. Do you suppose it remembered and that's why it wouldn't help me with directions? On the other hand, I think it was a borrowed GPS last time anyway.
So, this nasty little machine did concede to give me directions to Carlow shopping centre. It only took a tour of the entire central area before I got to where I wanted to go. When that little voice on the windshield directed me to turn it was always when I was half way through the intersection or roundabout. Well, I got not exactly there, but close enough. I parked the car, took the ticket because parking wasn't free, and then only had to ask two more people how to find Penney's. I'm hopeless.
It was sunny today but deceptive. It was darn chilly. OK cold! Just because I'm from Canada does not mean that I enjoy being chilled to the bone. If only I'd worn another layer. Anyway, I found Penney's and it's quite a neat store. Great prices and quite a few attractive items. I settled for pyjamas, a scarf (mine are decorative but I needed a warm one), a pair of slippers, and a kit of small empty plastic bottles to decant shampoo and conditioner for my trip to England. I'm only taking a carry-on and thus liquids are limited.
I did find my way back to the car without having to ask anyone. Figuring that I would slip a couple of Euro in a slot on the way out, I drove to the exit. HAH! Of course you have to pay in advance. I had not seen any pay stations. [They are INSIDE the part of the shopping centre that I did not visit.] There were only 3 cars behind me that also had to back up. Stupid tourist! I felt badly and imagined what they were muttering about me. Eventually I found out where the pay station was, paid the fee, got the ticket and I was off.
Easy-peasy to get out of town. Not so fast. This was Carlow, my directional nemesis. The route from the parking lot to N80, the road home, is far more direct than the one I took. I had told the GPS where I was headed, the usual one when heading home, and it told me where to go. Repeatedly, and on different streets. There are some quite nice housing areas. Grrrr - I was not looking for a place to live.
Once on the highway it was my great good fortune to find the slowest car in all of Ireland in front of me. Lovely! The road is good, has paved shoulders, is well banked on curves and is really not a problem to drive at or at least near the speed limit of 100 kph. This idiot was motoring along at 67. It took a while but I finally found a nice clear stretch and was able to pass. That's the last I saw of him, and by that time, the long parade behind him.
Returning to Moss Cottage I found that the Internet connection was still down. Then it came back for about 2 minutes. Turns out the fault lies outside of the house - the landlord's house. The provider will attempt a repair within 5 business days. Ah the joys.
So I came to Jim and Mary's at Coolross and am enjoying their wifi - as well as the company. The kids are all studying, both Ricky and Maria have exams coming up.
I'll toddle off shortly and hope that maybe tomorrow the connection will be better at the cottage. The weather doesn't sound too good so touring won't be on the agenda either. There's a pile of books begging to be read. I won't lack for something to do.
Enough drivel for now. Not sure when I'll write the next post.
Friday, January 27, 2017
Well now, where was I?
With the weather having turned variously wet, windy and/or chilly I have not been walking either up or down hills. I find the damp gets into the bones and makes extended time outdoors distinctly unappealing. I've even had to turn up the heat a bit in the cottage and have turned a bit of heat on downstairs to hopefully waft upwards. It does seem to help. Then I have to personally waft back downstairs to turn off the light I left on. Wafting up and down those stairs has been my main exercise of late. Well, it's not really a 'waft', more like pouring myself up and down as it's very narrow. Unless I keep my arms at my sides, my elbows brush the walls as I climb or descend. Helps with balance.
After Martina's departure on Wednesday I wandered as far as the nearest laptop, which fortunately was my own, and started browsing the digitized version of various church records. It seems that some parishes were more demanding of legible writing than others. Perhaps it was the local doctor who, accustomed to scratching out prescriptions, volunteered to update the church records just to be nice. Some others had lovely large script with excellent dark ink - inscribed by a passing monk, maybe? However, I don't have any ancestors in those records. Mine are to be found in the part of the page that was torn, spilled upon, scratched out, or in the time period that they just didn't get around to writing stuff down.
On the other hand, I was able to piece together more of the Abraham family in Jim's line and learned about a few more townlands. What this country needs is a comprehensive book listing all the townlands in each parish. The Parishes are not exactly what a given church considers its territory, but sort of. There are websites of Irish townlands (townlands.ie) and there is a nice list of all surrounding townlands. However, on the little map provided it only shades the one townland, in mauve. It's a nice colour ,but really just a blob on a map. What is needed IMHO is the ability to select a group of townlands and have them all show up shaded in whatever colour they want to use, and with the borders outlined. That way you could see the proximity of one to another.
This is not quite as straightforward as it may seem. Townland names are far from unique. If you're lucky there will be only one townland with a given name in the entire country. In the case of my Fennells and Whelans, they lived at Barrowhouse and Monebrock, in County Laois - at that time it was Queens County. Their parish church was in County Kildare. Ducky! The maps at osi.ie do show townland names, not parishes, and I was able to see that these two above-named places are very close together. Quite feasible to go back and forth over time. This is important.
However, when it comes to my Byrnes, not only is the surname anything but rare, their townland of Coolross is one of four named as such. Two of them, including "mine" are just a few miles apart. They are in different parishes and different baronies. Please don't ask about baronies. I don't know.
However, in any given parish, there would probably not be a duplicate townland name.
Today, not much was accomplished. It was cool and rainy and sunny and as advertised, the weather changed about every 15 minutes. I had considerable running around to do - so I did it. Accomplishments were few. I did acquire a printer because I really don't work well with documents by opening and closing windows on the computer. It's a nice printer. The instructions came in 24 languages. Ah yes, I'm in the EU. I only needed one. However, I can't make the darn thing work as a wireless printer without connecting via a router, to which I have no access. So, tomorrow I shall set out to find a cable. I have two at home of the exact sort I need. Why did it not occur to me to bring one along just in case? Sigh!
Finding such a cable will not likely happen in Bunclody. They had none in Tullow where I got the printer. Perhaps a little visit to Enniscorthy is in order. Ah yes - a nice place in which I don't even know the name of a single store or where to find an electronics supply of any sort. My personal view is that Best Buy should hustle over here and set up in Bunclody. Preferably by noon tomorrow.
The day started badly when the two overhead pot lights in the living room both burned out within two minutes. I guess they have a very specific lifespan and were installed together. The landlord replaced one with no problem. The other is stuck in wrongly-threaded limbo. Now it won't unscrew or allow itself to be completely screwed in. It's just plain screwed, so I have to take a dim view of everything. On the other hand, I can't see the dust so there is an upside.
I had a short visit with Mairead and baby Kate. While there, a cousin of hers dropped in and although I'm slightly attuned to the Irish accent, I'm not sure of anything Peg said. I did catch the odd word and I know I've been invited to drop in to her place. She has Kehoe connections and I'd dearly loved to meet up with one of my Kehoe connections. Maybe. Fingers crossed again.
I just have to find a way to convince people that if should appear in their home I'm not starving and in need of huge quantities of food. I'm fine with a glass of water or a cup of coffee. I don't need the brown bread, scones, coleslaw, sliced ham and apple pie that materialize on a plate in front of me. Any suggested avoidance strategies are welcome. Polite refusals are not acceptable manners.
So, it's now quite late and I shall take one of the many books, which materialize about as often as the food, and from which I'm learning a lot. Mostly I'm learning there is little hope of finding the ancestors I so dearly want to find. But it's all about the journey.
So what shall it be tonight: The Little Book of Wicklow, The Wicklow Firebrand (from whom i could be descended), On Our Own Ground (about Co Wexford where I'm staying), Heritage Trees of Ireland (written by a Fennell but not one of ours), or ...
Checking out for now
After Martina's departure on Wednesday I wandered as far as the nearest laptop, which fortunately was my own, and started browsing the digitized version of various church records. It seems that some parishes were more demanding of legible writing than others. Perhaps it was the local doctor who, accustomed to scratching out prescriptions, volunteered to update the church records just to be nice. Some others had lovely large script with excellent dark ink - inscribed by a passing monk, maybe? However, I don't have any ancestors in those records. Mine are to be found in the part of the page that was torn, spilled upon, scratched out, or in the time period that they just didn't get around to writing stuff down.
On the other hand, I was able to piece together more of the Abraham family in Jim's line and learned about a few more townlands. What this country needs is a comprehensive book listing all the townlands in each parish. The Parishes are not exactly what a given church considers its territory, but sort of. There are websites of Irish townlands (townlands.ie) and there is a nice list of all surrounding townlands. However, on the little map provided it only shades the one townland, in mauve. It's a nice colour ,but really just a blob on a map. What is needed IMHO is the ability to select a group of townlands and have them all show up shaded in whatever colour they want to use, and with the borders outlined. That way you could see the proximity of one to another.
This is not quite as straightforward as it may seem. Townland names are far from unique. If you're lucky there will be only one townland with a given name in the entire country. In the case of my Fennells and Whelans, they lived at Barrowhouse and Monebrock, in County Laois - at that time it was Queens County. Their parish church was in County Kildare. Ducky! The maps at osi.ie do show townland names, not parishes, and I was able to see that these two above-named places are very close together. Quite feasible to go back and forth over time. This is important.
However, when it comes to my Byrnes, not only is the surname anything but rare, their townland of Coolross is one of four named as such. Two of them, including "mine" are just a few miles apart. They are in different parishes and different baronies. Please don't ask about baronies. I don't know.
However, in any given parish, there would probably not be a duplicate townland name.
Today, not much was accomplished. It was cool and rainy and sunny and as advertised, the weather changed about every 15 minutes. I had considerable running around to do - so I did it. Accomplishments were few. I did acquire a printer because I really don't work well with documents by opening and closing windows on the computer. It's a nice printer. The instructions came in 24 languages. Ah yes, I'm in the EU. I only needed one. However, I can't make the darn thing work as a wireless printer without connecting via a router, to which I have no access. So, tomorrow I shall set out to find a cable. I have two at home of the exact sort I need. Why did it not occur to me to bring one along just in case? Sigh!
Finding such a cable will not likely happen in Bunclody. They had none in Tullow where I got the printer. Perhaps a little visit to Enniscorthy is in order. Ah yes - a nice place in which I don't even know the name of a single store or where to find an electronics supply of any sort. My personal view is that Best Buy should hustle over here and set up in Bunclody. Preferably by noon tomorrow.
The day started badly when the two overhead pot lights in the living room both burned out within two minutes. I guess they have a very specific lifespan and were installed together. The landlord replaced one with no problem. The other is stuck in wrongly-threaded limbo. Now it won't unscrew or allow itself to be completely screwed in. It's just plain screwed, so I have to take a dim view of everything. On the other hand, I can't see the dust so there is an upside.
I had a short visit with Mairead and baby Kate. While there, a cousin of hers dropped in and although I'm slightly attuned to the Irish accent, I'm not sure of anything Peg said. I did catch the odd word and I know I've been invited to drop in to her place. She has Kehoe connections and I'd dearly loved to meet up with one of my Kehoe connections. Maybe. Fingers crossed again.
I just have to find a way to convince people that if should appear in their home I'm not starving and in need of huge quantities of food. I'm fine with a glass of water or a cup of coffee. I don't need the brown bread, scones, coleslaw, sliced ham and apple pie that materialize on a plate in front of me. Any suggested avoidance strategies are welcome. Polite refusals are not acceptable manners.
So, it's now quite late and I shall take one of the many books, which materialize about as often as the food, and from which I'm learning a lot. Mostly I'm learning there is little hope of finding the ancestors I so dearly want to find. But it's all about the journey.
So what shall it be tonight: The Little Book of Wicklow, The Wicklow Firebrand (from whom i could be descended), On Our Own Ground (about Co Wexford where I'm staying), Heritage Trees of Ireland (written by a Fennell but not one of ours), or ...
Checking out for now
Wednesday, January 25, 2017
No wandering today - just wondering
I was really looking forward to meeting Martina today. According to DNA testing we have a common ancestor. Well, maybe, but like most Irish ancestors he/she remains hidden in the mists of time, probably using an assumed name. She drove over from near Enniscorthy to see what we could come up with.
When Martina arrived she brought a home-made apple pie - a whole pie! Wowser. As an aside I've invited Jim and Mary to come over tomorrow evening and hopefully the remainder of the pie, if not consumed, will go home with them. I am too easily led into temptation and that wonderful pie keeps whispering my name. Thank you Martina for the wonderful treat.
Martina also showed some hope for my eventually being able to make a tasty loaf of brown bread. She gifted me with a non-stick loaf pan. I can't let her down. I really must keep trying to perfect the bread.
We spent much of the day around the table looking over materials that Martina had brought and notes she had, along with reference to my tree. Although there are some common surnames, they are not blood relations. Names in my tree that matched hers are all in-laws. This all leads me back to my theory that there was a wandering chap, many generations back, who got waaaaay too friendly with every lass in the counties of Wicklow, Wexford and Carlow and thus today's puzzle was born. The result was an apparent genetic match with a lot of people - none of whom are popping up.
At least one of Martina's matches is true, but had been identified even before the DNA testing. In my case - still a faint hope that someone will turn up. It seems that on Ancestry DNA, few of my matches have a family tree, and those who do are not interested enough to reply. I've had a couple of emails from folks with whom I can't find even a country in common, let alone a person.
My internet connection, now that the landlords are back, is much more stable. How can this make a difference? I haven't even spoken with them. Beats me. It did go down for a short time today but only for about half an hour. Since then the connection has remained strong. For this I'm grateful, if surprised.
I'm now arranging to meet with the researcher I've hired in the past, to help me review records at the National Library of Ireland next Thursday. I have to go into Dublin at some point that day to return the rental car and will stay overnight at an airport hotel before my very early morning flight to England next Friday.
Does this mean I'll drive into downtown Dublin? Nope - not a chance. I'll drive to some sort of park and ride and leave the car. From there I'll get a bus or train into the centre of the city. At the end of the day I'll reverse the trip and pick up the car, drive to the airport and return the Ford Focus to Hertz. Luckily they only require that you return it with a full gas tank, not a clean exterior. I can't believe it's been three weeks already and I haven't passed a single car wash.
So, I shall have to get my ducks in line and send off a message to the Sheffield Archives requesting the documents and manuscripts I want to review. All of my fingers and toes are crossed that some little tidbit of information will turn up to help unravel the shroud enveloping the ancestors. It is certainly wound very tightly. I just want to tug at it some more and see what relics fall out. Ah to be a psychic. Someone with that "gift" wouldn't have nearly so much fun tracing their roots, they'd just call upon the spirits and ask them questions, wouldn't they? Then again, what fun is that?
So - tomorrow is supposed to be cloudy and windy but I don't see much rain with only a 20% POP. Then again, today was only 10% POP and there were indications of rain on the car. I didn't go anywhere except to empty the garbage. Tomorrow I think I'll return to Athy, check in with the Heritage Centre, review the directions to Barrowhouse townland and then try to follow them to the right place. Maybe my Fennells and Whelans will be hiding under rocks and not be so resistant to being discovered.
There's another little mystery there too, as some of them lived in a townland called Monebrock - also referred to in documents as Mount Brock or Moneybrook. It's close to Athy but in the neighbouring county of Laois. Only thing is, nobody there has ever heard of it. It's still listed today so I shall try to solve that as well. If it is decent weather - ie not freezing cold or raining - I'll do a little walking along the Barrow river.
I might gather up my courage and knock on the Church office door to see if I might have a peek at the register. I've browsed it online and didn't find everything I was searching for. Maybe handling the real thing, if that's possible, will work better. Apparently most churches here are now bombarded with requests to look at the registers, to the extent that they just ignore all emails. Ah well...
There's a little gift shop at the Heritage Centre and I shall probably make another contribution to the Irish economy. I saw a few little things of interest on my last visit.
Jim and Mary are coming over tomorrow evening. I've been to their place a few times and it is certainly time to return the favour. I've bought some daffodils and they are so bright and pretty that it almost seems like Spring in here. I said "almost". With the blinds down and the heat turned on I can dream.
It's past bedtime now so will sign off with hopes for a more interesting commentary, for you dear readers, on the morrow.
When Martina arrived she brought a home-made apple pie - a whole pie! Wowser. As an aside I've invited Jim and Mary to come over tomorrow evening and hopefully the remainder of the pie, if not consumed, will go home with them. I am too easily led into temptation and that wonderful pie keeps whispering my name. Thank you Martina for the wonderful treat.
Martina also showed some hope for my eventually being able to make a tasty loaf of brown bread. She gifted me with a non-stick loaf pan. I can't let her down. I really must keep trying to perfect the bread.
We spent much of the day around the table looking over materials that Martina had brought and notes she had, along with reference to my tree. Although there are some common surnames, they are not blood relations. Names in my tree that matched hers are all in-laws. This all leads me back to my theory that there was a wandering chap, many generations back, who got waaaaay too friendly with every lass in the counties of Wicklow, Wexford and Carlow and thus today's puzzle was born. The result was an apparent genetic match with a lot of people - none of whom are popping up.
At least one of Martina's matches is true, but had been identified even before the DNA testing. In my case - still a faint hope that someone will turn up. It seems that on Ancestry DNA, few of my matches have a family tree, and those who do are not interested enough to reply. I've had a couple of emails from folks with whom I can't find even a country in common, let alone a person.
My internet connection, now that the landlords are back, is much more stable. How can this make a difference? I haven't even spoken with them. Beats me. It did go down for a short time today but only for about half an hour. Since then the connection has remained strong. For this I'm grateful, if surprised.
I'm now arranging to meet with the researcher I've hired in the past, to help me review records at the National Library of Ireland next Thursday. I have to go into Dublin at some point that day to return the rental car and will stay overnight at an airport hotel before my very early morning flight to England next Friday.
Does this mean I'll drive into downtown Dublin? Nope - not a chance. I'll drive to some sort of park and ride and leave the car. From there I'll get a bus or train into the centre of the city. At the end of the day I'll reverse the trip and pick up the car, drive to the airport and return the Ford Focus to Hertz. Luckily they only require that you return it with a full gas tank, not a clean exterior. I can't believe it's been three weeks already and I haven't passed a single car wash.
So, I shall have to get my ducks in line and send off a message to the Sheffield Archives requesting the documents and manuscripts I want to review. All of my fingers and toes are crossed that some little tidbit of information will turn up to help unravel the shroud enveloping the ancestors. It is certainly wound very tightly. I just want to tug at it some more and see what relics fall out. Ah to be a psychic. Someone with that "gift" wouldn't have nearly so much fun tracing their roots, they'd just call upon the spirits and ask them questions, wouldn't they? Then again, what fun is that?
So - tomorrow is supposed to be cloudy and windy but I don't see much rain with only a 20% POP. Then again, today was only 10% POP and there were indications of rain on the car. I didn't go anywhere except to empty the garbage. Tomorrow I think I'll return to Athy, check in with the Heritage Centre, review the directions to Barrowhouse townland and then try to follow them to the right place. Maybe my Fennells and Whelans will be hiding under rocks and not be so resistant to being discovered.
There's another little mystery there too, as some of them lived in a townland called Monebrock - also referred to in documents as Mount Brock or Moneybrook. It's close to Athy but in the neighbouring county of Laois. Only thing is, nobody there has ever heard of it. It's still listed today so I shall try to solve that as well. If it is decent weather - ie not freezing cold or raining - I'll do a little walking along the Barrow river.
I might gather up my courage and knock on the Church office door to see if I might have a peek at the register. I've browsed it online and didn't find everything I was searching for. Maybe handling the real thing, if that's possible, will work better. Apparently most churches here are now bombarded with requests to look at the registers, to the extent that they just ignore all emails. Ah well...
There's a little gift shop at the Heritage Centre and I shall probably make another contribution to the Irish economy. I saw a few little things of interest on my last visit.
Jim and Mary are coming over tomorrow evening. I've been to their place a few times and it is certainly time to return the favour. I've bought some daffodils and they are so bright and pretty that it almost seems like Spring in here. I said "almost". With the blinds down and the heat turned on I can dream.
It's past bedtime now so will sign off with hopes for a more interesting commentary, for you dear readers, on the morrow.
Tuesday, January 24, 2017
Finally the internet connection seems stable again
I hope that by saying my wifi connection is stable it does not jinx it. I've struggled to find connectivity since Friday. The modem was rebooted by the landlord's daughter and it seemed to help, but only for a couple of hours. For no particular reason it seems, the signal would come back and then disappear. It happened a few times this morning but I've been connected now for a few hours. So, what this confirms is my addiction to the web. Not a big surprise.
The library wifi is an option, but the reference section where it's best to set up, shares the temperature of my fridge. It's great for preserving food, not so much for one's concentration and productivity. I was willing to sit there without my jacket on, but I can't type when wearing gloves. So, not a great choice after all.
There is really little to report so there's no point in boring you with idle prattle. No ill effects have been noticed from the consumption of my brown bread. I've bought the same type of soda as used by the locals, known as bread soda. Maybe it's different from the 'baking soda' I have.
No significant progress has been made genealogically. I'm looking into bolder measures and still waiting for a reply from a couple of sources I had fond hopes would help. My fingers are cramping from being in the crossed position for so long.
Last night I had dinner with the Lees and Kevin shared with me a number of files related to the Coollattin Estate. I will spend this evening browsing the documents to see what pops up. One map shows the various plots of land occupied in the townland of Coolross along with an index to attach names to the plots. My Art is there. I will have to investigate maps of nearby townlands where hopefully a couple of related Kehoes are lurking out of sight.
Next Friday I fly to England and have booked a hotel room for Thursday night, in the same hotel Janet and I used before our return flight. I expect to spend Thursday at the Mormon Family History Center (FHC), tempting blindness by reviewing microfilms. On my return on the following Wednesday evening I'll stay at the same hotel and pick up the next rental car on Thursday morning. If helpful, I'll return to the FHC to complete any investigations that hold any promise.
Although you wouldn't say that it was raining at any point today, there was also seeming no point at which there was no heavy mist. So I didn't go for a walk. I'm about to dig out an exercise video and if all goes well, will actually try the actions suggested on it.
Sorry for the boring report - maybe tomorrow will be better.
Slan
The library wifi is an option, but the reference section where it's best to set up, shares the temperature of my fridge. It's great for preserving food, not so much for one's concentration and productivity. I was willing to sit there without my jacket on, but I can't type when wearing gloves. So, not a great choice after all.
There is really little to report so there's no point in boring you with idle prattle. No ill effects have been noticed from the consumption of my brown bread. I've bought the same type of soda as used by the locals, known as bread soda. Maybe it's different from the 'baking soda' I have.
No significant progress has been made genealogically. I'm looking into bolder measures and still waiting for a reply from a couple of sources I had fond hopes would help. My fingers are cramping from being in the crossed position for so long.
Last night I had dinner with the Lees and Kevin shared with me a number of files related to the Coollattin Estate. I will spend this evening browsing the documents to see what pops up. One map shows the various plots of land occupied in the townland of Coolross along with an index to attach names to the plots. My Art is there. I will have to investigate maps of nearby townlands where hopefully a couple of related Kehoes are lurking out of sight.
Next Friday I fly to England and have booked a hotel room for Thursday night, in the same hotel Janet and I used before our return flight. I expect to spend Thursday at the Mormon Family History Center (FHC), tempting blindness by reviewing microfilms. On my return on the following Wednesday evening I'll stay at the same hotel and pick up the next rental car on Thursday morning. If helpful, I'll return to the FHC to complete any investigations that hold any promise.
Although you wouldn't say that it was raining at any point today, there was also seeming no point at which there was no heavy mist. So I didn't go for a walk. I'm about to dig out an exercise video and if all goes well, will actually try the actions suggested on it.
Sorry for the boring report - maybe tomorrow will be better.
Slan
Sunday, January 22, 2017
If a day starts like this how much better can it get?
This morning I woke up around 8 at Rossanna Farm near Ashford, Co Wicklow. Margaret and Eugene were already hard at work checking on the lambing. I quickly showered and dressed and headed outside to see what was happening.
I'll keep you in suspense for a bit. Last night we attended the ICA drama festival, night two. There were two one-act plays and 3 sketches. Several different ICA (Irish Countrywomen's Association) chapters had entered the competition. Thanks to Margaret who'd been one of the organizers, we had great seats reserved for us. Eugene and I had a super view of the stage and were close enough to hear every word. No microphones on these actors.
All in all an very entertaining evening - and I won a box of chocolates in the raffle! Yay! They will make a hostess gift very soon. I don't dare open the box - once open even a crack these darn boxes of chocolates just never stop calling my name. And of course, it's rude to ignore a call.
Around 11 pm we got home and Eugene and I headed right to the shed to check on the sheep. There was a very new set of twins, born to a Hoggett. (Sp???) This is a one year old sheep - first time Mommy. One was already dead, still in the sac and the other, very tiny, was barely alive. The hoggett really didn't know what to do for her babies.
Despite Eugene's best efforts, the tiny little lamb didn't make it through the night and the mama was put into a pen by herself to recover.
HOWEVER - the good news was that two sets of healthy twins arrived early in the morning and were only hours old when I took these pics!
I'll keep you in suspense for a bit. Last night we attended the ICA drama festival, night two. There were two one-act plays and 3 sketches. Several different ICA (Irish Countrywomen's Association) chapters had entered the competition. Thanks to Margaret who'd been one of the organizers, we had great seats reserved for us. Eugene and I had a super view of the stage and were close enough to hear every word. No microphones on these actors.
All in all an very entertaining evening - and I won a box of chocolates in the raffle! Yay! They will make a hostess gift very soon. I don't dare open the box - once open even a crack these darn boxes of chocolates just never stop calling my name. And of course, it's rude to ignore a call.
Around 11 pm we got home and Eugene and I headed right to the shed to check on the sheep. There was a very new set of twins, born to a Hoggett. (Sp???) This is a one year old sheep - first time Mommy. One was already dead, still in the sac and the other, very tiny, was barely alive. The hoggett really didn't know what to do for her babies.
Despite Eugene's best efforts, the tiny little lamb didn't make it through the night and the mama was put into a pen by herself to recover.
HOWEVER - the good news was that two sets of healthy twins arrived early in the morning and were only hours old when I took these pics!
Now I'm glad I cooked that leg of lamb last week. Still several servings in the freezer and I'll probably still enjoy eating - probably. Seeing these little lambs might change my view.
So, after that wonderful start, Margaret and I set out for Delgany for breakfast at a bakery-cafe-specialty food shop. It was overcast and cool but a pretty decent day. It did warm up a tiny bit and got sunny and was a magnificent day.
I have no pictures to show for it. I had plugged in the phone to charge it overnight but didn't realize there was a switch on that outlet so - dead battery and the camera was back in Bunclody. Sigh.
We enjoyed a tasty breakfast - in my case accompanied by a capuccino and then drove to Greystones for a tour and a trot. Lots of folks were out walking around the charming shops in this hilly seaside town. In a couple of weeks we'll go back and do the walk from Greystones to Bray along the coast. I will be equipped with backup equipment to be sure to get photos. We'll also wait for a clear day.
It took a while but we did finally find a clue to the start of the walk and it should not be too hard to find. There is parking available - pay and display - and we'll have to watch carefully. Some spots are for 2 hours, some for 4 and some for all day. Given that I don't really walk too fast, we'll attempt to find an all day spot.
Once back to Rossanna farm, the update was no more lambs had arrived. One or more could have made their debut between then and now and maybe a number of sheep will decide that "all together now" will be their theme and keep Eugene up all night.
So, with the thought of testing my bread-making skills this evening I decided to call Mary to see if I might borrow a round baking pan and a sieve. No problem - on to Coolross. I had driven back on the usual route - not the new highway. It's prettier and actually faster to my selected destination.
It was pretty smooth going - well, except for the blind curves, the one lane bridges approached warily not knowing if another car had the same idea but from the other side (none did) and progress was quite swift. Until Rathdrum. Up ahead it looked like a dozen or so cars had stopped. Why? Was it an Irish traffic jam - i.e. flock of sheep on the road? cattle? Nope. There appeared to be a bunch of people maybe at the side of the road. So, I concluded there had been an accident. Wrong.
Looking ahead as best I could with the twisting road, those darn people were still there. AH - another Trump protest parade? In rural Ireland where no press would cover it? Nope. As it happened, it was a funeral procession.
All in due time our little parade of cars, now dozens of vehicles long, twisted past a cemetery where the crowd of people were gathering - along with maybe a couple of hundred others. I was very glad I had not gotten too impatient.
Onward to Aughrim at which point I turned off the GPS as I knew the route pretty well. I hoped. Yes I did remember and did not make a single wrong turn. Safely arriving at Coolross I took temporary possession of a couple of cake pans and a sieve. I thought I was off directly to get baking.
Guess I don't know myself too well. I decided to drop in briefly to Egan's pub to say hello to Larry and Mary and try to get a phone number I've been looking for. Well I did all that but it was more than a few minutes. I wish I had the head for history that Larry does.
Eventually I had to leave, and just as I got into the car my Canadian cell phone rang. It was Tom and Heather, heading into downtown Toronto. We chatted for quite a while and caught up on news on both sides. It was a lovely surprise. The call got dropped and it took us a few attempts from both ends to reconnect. I drove off and when I was in Clonegal, I pulled over to the side of the road and was able to reach them again.
We quickly finished up our chat and I finally headed to Bunclody and got here more or less directly. No wrong turns - it's just not a straight line from there to here. Or from anywhere to anywhere else for that matter.
Assembling the required ingredients and reviewing the pictures I had taken of the process and quantities, I set about destroying the kitchen. There isn't a lot of space and I'm unsure of the oven. It's quite tiny but I don't know how accurate the heat. Best to prepare your excuses in advance!
Well,, I did make bread and it turned out reasonably well. It did look quite nice - I'll say so myself in case nobody else does. It was a smaller loaf than Kathy's had been but I hadn't skimped as much on the soda and salt as I had on the flour. A slather of jam is a reasonable antidote to to the salty taste. Not bad for a first effort.
So - I shall return to Coolross and see if they'd like to try a taste of the bread. I'll bring along the jam that Mary Harte insisted I take. How did she know I'd need it?
Genealogy alert- tomorrow's plan
Well, if the internet remains working I'll continue to dig for Kehoe info from here. If it doesn't I will return to the library and hope it's warmer there than it was yesterday.
I am also in search of the trail of Redmonds from Nova Scotia back to Ireland. That trail could be very cold but there are resources I haven't tapped before, not having looked for east coast records. These are not my folks, they are the ancestors of a friend. It's still just as much fun to search.
Enough rambling for today. Tomorrow's plans are actually more extensive than written above but you'll just have to wait.
Wonder how long this connection will last
I'm going to add a few installments this evening - maybe. My internet connection comes and goes.
Here are the pictures from my walk the other day - the one with the misbehaving socks.
Here are the pictures from my walk the other day - the one with the misbehaving socks.
Saturday, January 21, 2017
I found my thrill - on Strawberry Hill and (eventually) another online
Internet is down in paradise. I am posting this from the Bunclody library. I can only connect one device at a time so cannot upload any pictures. Hopefully the system will be fixed at Moss Cottage soon.
Waking up early (for me) around 8:15, I was up in time to see a fabulous sunrise. By the time I decided to go out and take a picture it had past the stage of glorious colours, but was still quite remarkable. Once the sun was all the way up past the horizon, the clear blue sky issued an invitation to go out and enjoy the sunshine. The only thing visible in the blue was a number of contrails of airplanes carrying their passengers off to - wherever in many directions. At one point there were 9 visible trails at the same time all heading different ways.
So, suitably fortified by my vitamins and breakfast shake, I adjusted my walking poles, put a jacket over my turtle neck top, grabbed my (yellow lens) sunglasses and set out. The direction this time was not into town, it was in the opposite direction - towards Strawberry Hill. At least I knew that once at the turning point, the road home was all downhill, which was a lovely contrast to the usual walk into town.
I kept turning around to admire the views. It really never gets boring. With the bright sun and clear sky the landscape seemed to go on forever. Despite promises to myself to use the camera, I brought the phone which I really think produces better images anyway. The drawback of this method is that the phone is Android and the laptop is a Mac. Despite promises to the contrary, the Android uploader does not work. I have to transfer the photos to another location and then access them from there. I've been using Dropbox. So far, so good although I've had some trouble getting the photos into the desired folders.
As I walked up the road I figured there would not be much traffic. There wasn't much, but there were a few cars. I nearly choked when I saw the speed limit going up - 50 km/hr. Hah! It was quite close to the sign which had fallen but was still visible indicating the road is very bumpy. None of the passing cars was travelling faster than maybe 25 kms/hr. Coming back down the speed limit changed to 80 kph. What? On this road. Hopefully not while I'm on it on foot, with nowhere to go except into the hedge.
After about 10 minutes the end of the road seemed to be a couple of hundred yards ahead but I was fooled. It was simply a 90 degree turn and the quality of the surface deteriorated further. Have no fear, it doesn't stop the mail from getting through. I stepped aside for the postman, er woman, to charge along to make her delivery. This service is provided 6 days a week and is very reliable. Mail delivery to the door - not quite - but to your postbox by the side of the road. Often the houses are not set back too far.
On I went past the turn, stepping aside again for the postie's return journey and was rewarded with a little wave of thanks. The road, as bumpy as it was, pretty much ended at a large home with a view to die for. Approaching the house it seemed like there were a few totem poles on the lawn. Could the owner be a displaced person from British Columbia, specifically Haida Gwaii? Of course not, they turned out to be tree trunks with branches sawn off close to the trunk at an angle. Will they grow back? Is there another reason they were not removed completely. I didn't stop to ask.
From there it became the road less trampled. There were ruts which I pretty much stuck to, but it didn't look like even the local sheep had been by lately. The hedges were high, some sprouting beautiful yellow flowers. Ah the deceptive gorse bushes. So pretty, but don't back into them, you'll think you've encountered a nasty cactus. This is January. And the gorse is starting to bloom.
I clomped along realizing that I was losing a battle. My carefully chosen new socks seemed to prefer the company of my toes rather than stay up on my ankles. Lovely? No. Annoying? More than a little. To hike them up I had to disentangle my wrists from the pole straps - many times. Note to self - use these socks as slippers and go shopping again. Choose your socks more carefully next time.
It was beautiful on the track, and then around a bend a saw - a car! What? How? As I approached I realized that the car was facing me and upon closer inspection, was full of junk. It had not budged in a very long time and didn't seem to offer the possibility of being useful for transport, even in a pinch. Past the car I finally noticed that the area opened up to the front yard of another home, with yet a better view. The road in to this home was not from whence I'd come. A road led in from the opposite side. A pretty good road.
At this point I figured it was a good place to turn around. I wasn't quite at the top of the hill but close enough and the road didn't go up, it went down. To go up would have meant trespassing on pasture land. Who knows where I would have come out, but it's a pretty good bet it would not have been near Moss Cottage.
So - back I went, stopping occasionally to take more pictures. This time I didn't have to turn around to admire the view. The sun was more or less behind me and I was going downhill.
Once off the rough track, onto the surface that was actually a road, I had to step aside a couple of times for cars to pass. When I was almost back home a nice white sedan passed with a Thule rack and carrier on top. Fine. But it said "Caution, Show Dog Transport". What? Surely not inside the Thule. I guess I'll never know, but if someone has a show dog I'm sure they would let it ride inside the vehicle not on top, in a sealed case. I guess it's like a Baby on Board sign. I never understood those either. Isn't it the driver of the car who needs to be careful?
The round trip took about an hour and yes it challenged my patience (the droopy socks thing), renewed my faith in my ability to saunter happily in the hilly countryside despite my protesting feet, and the need to use my poles to keep my balance on uneven surfaces. All in all it was splendid.
Genealogy alert: you may not want to read on. You have been warned.
I almost didn't go on the walk. I had sent an email to a friend saying that I'd seen many references to her surname - Redmond - among all the records I've been sifting through. Could her Irish roots possibly be in this area? The name isn't quite a common as Byrne, but it's not rare either and is found pretty much all over Ireland.
This morning I got a reply indicating that her Irish origins were of unknown location, but that there was great interest. Yay - something to investigate that would be a break from the frustration of looking for my Kehoes and Byrnes, both more prevalent than Redmond, and so far, yielding only tempting hints of connections. It is so easy to climb the wrong family tree.
I started with the obituary of my friend's father for his name and that of his parents. What a lovely obituary, from a genealogy standpoint. The information that was there was sufficient to start the pursuit. And the records were showing up fast. Then the wifi went down. Arrrgghhh! So, the decision had been made for me - time for a walk. Don't waste the fabulous weather while it lasts. And thus the adventure recounted above.
When I got back, there was still no signal. Ordinarily I'd reboot the modem. But there was a problem. It is not in Moss Cottage, but rather in the main house. The landlord is away until Tuesday. There is a key hidden somewhere - but I have no idea where. My experience as a burglar who easily finds such things is very limited, in fact, I have no such experience. Even if I had the key, the house has an alarm system.
I came by this last piece of information when I called my "emergency contact". She said that she or her husband would be around this afternoon and would check it out. She told me that even if I had the key, the house was alarmed so I could not get in without, shall we say, a disturbance. I kept trying to login again and again figuring it might have been a blip. No dice. I've now memorized the bizarre combo of letters and numbers comprising the password.
Around three, help arrived. Before he had a chance to open the front door - the signal returned. I noticed it because of frequent checks for availability. Having just heard the car pull in on the gravel drive I glanced at my laptop. It was, at that moment, in the process of connecting automatically. Great timing. I felt that I may have raised the alarm too soon but in the end concluded that probably it was a systemic problem and the solution was badly timed. Ah well - here I am.
Once up and running I started again in hot pursuit of Redmond ancestors. They are definitely Irish - not only from the census information, but the propensity to find a few names they liked and just keep on using them generation after generation after - well you get the picture. Within a family this is quite nice. For a genealogist, maybe not so much.
They did however live in a small place in Nova Scotia. Helpful yes. As it turns out, there were lots of them, siblings and/or cousins, with the same names - so progress slowed down to be sure that everything was done right.
I've gone pretty far back on the direct line but still nothing pointing to the location in Ireland. The family has been in Nova Scotia for generations. I've got them sorted back to before the Canadian census of 1851. Earlier censuses (censi?) were mainly in Quebec. Church records are helpful but not totally available or even in existence.
So - more work to do. But it's so much fun. Tomorrow is promising to be chilly and grey and not so inviting to be out. In the evening I'll head to Glenealy for a drama festival and a few one-act plays. Depending on fatigue and the time the last curtain falls, I may stay in Ashford at Margaret's place or may drive back here. The GPS knows the way quite well now and even I am getting better at finding my way home in the dark.
Waking up early (for me) around 8:15, I was up in time to see a fabulous sunrise. By the time I decided to go out and take a picture it had past the stage of glorious colours, but was still quite remarkable. Once the sun was all the way up past the horizon, the clear blue sky issued an invitation to go out and enjoy the sunshine. The only thing visible in the blue was a number of contrails of airplanes carrying their passengers off to - wherever in many directions. At one point there were 9 visible trails at the same time all heading different ways.
So, suitably fortified by my vitamins and breakfast shake, I adjusted my walking poles, put a jacket over my turtle neck top, grabbed my (yellow lens) sunglasses and set out. The direction this time was not into town, it was in the opposite direction - towards Strawberry Hill. At least I knew that once at the turning point, the road home was all downhill, which was a lovely contrast to the usual walk into town.
I kept turning around to admire the views. It really never gets boring. With the bright sun and clear sky the landscape seemed to go on forever. Despite promises to myself to use the camera, I brought the phone which I really think produces better images anyway. The drawback of this method is that the phone is Android and the laptop is a Mac. Despite promises to the contrary, the Android uploader does not work. I have to transfer the photos to another location and then access them from there. I've been using Dropbox. So far, so good although I've had some trouble getting the photos into the desired folders.
As I walked up the road I figured there would not be much traffic. There wasn't much, but there were a few cars. I nearly choked when I saw the speed limit going up - 50 km/hr. Hah! It was quite close to the sign which had fallen but was still visible indicating the road is very bumpy. None of the passing cars was travelling faster than maybe 25 kms/hr. Coming back down the speed limit changed to 80 kph. What? On this road. Hopefully not while I'm on it on foot, with nowhere to go except into the hedge.
After about 10 minutes the end of the road seemed to be a couple of hundred yards ahead but I was fooled. It was simply a 90 degree turn and the quality of the surface deteriorated further. Have no fear, it doesn't stop the mail from getting through. I stepped aside for the postman, er woman, to charge along to make her delivery. This service is provided 6 days a week and is very reliable. Mail delivery to the door - not quite - but to your postbox by the side of the road. Often the houses are not set back too far.
On I went past the turn, stepping aside again for the postie's return journey and was rewarded with a little wave of thanks. The road, as bumpy as it was, pretty much ended at a large home with a view to die for. Approaching the house it seemed like there were a few totem poles on the lawn. Could the owner be a displaced person from British Columbia, specifically Haida Gwaii? Of course not, they turned out to be tree trunks with branches sawn off close to the trunk at an angle. Will they grow back? Is there another reason they were not removed completely. I didn't stop to ask.
From there it became the road less trampled. There were ruts which I pretty much stuck to, but it didn't look like even the local sheep had been by lately. The hedges were high, some sprouting beautiful yellow flowers. Ah the deceptive gorse bushes. So pretty, but don't back into them, you'll think you've encountered a nasty cactus. This is January. And the gorse is starting to bloom.
I clomped along realizing that I was losing a battle. My carefully chosen new socks seemed to prefer the company of my toes rather than stay up on my ankles. Lovely? No. Annoying? More than a little. To hike them up I had to disentangle my wrists from the pole straps - many times. Note to self - use these socks as slippers and go shopping again. Choose your socks more carefully next time.
It was beautiful on the track, and then around a bend a saw - a car! What? How? As I approached I realized that the car was facing me and upon closer inspection, was full of junk. It had not budged in a very long time and didn't seem to offer the possibility of being useful for transport, even in a pinch. Past the car I finally noticed that the area opened up to the front yard of another home, with yet a better view. The road in to this home was not from whence I'd come. A road led in from the opposite side. A pretty good road.
At this point I figured it was a good place to turn around. I wasn't quite at the top of the hill but close enough and the road didn't go up, it went down. To go up would have meant trespassing on pasture land. Who knows where I would have come out, but it's a pretty good bet it would not have been near Moss Cottage.
So - back I went, stopping occasionally to take more pictures. This time I didn't have to turn around to admire the view. The sun was more or less behind me and I was going downhill.
Once off the rough track, onto the surface that was actually a road, I had to step aside a couple of times for cars to pass. When I was almost back home a nice white sedan passed with a Thule rack and carrier on top. Fine. But it said "Caution, Show Dog Transport". What? Surely not inside the Thule. I guess I'll never know, but if someone has a show dog I'm sure they would let it ride inside the vehicle not on top, in a sealed case. I guess it's like a Baby on Board sign. I never understood those either. Isn't it the driver of the car who needs to be careful?
The round trip took about an hour and yes it challenged my patience (the droopy socks thing), renewed my faith in my ability to saunter happily in the hilly countryside despite my protesting feet, and the need to use my poles to keep my balance on uneven surfaces. All in all it was splendid.
Genealogy alert: you may not want to read on. You have been warned.
I almost didn't go on the walk. I had sent an email to a friend saying that I'd seen many references to her surname - Redmond - among all the records I've been sifting through. Could her Irish roots possibly be in this area? The name isn't quite a common as Byrne, but it's not rare either and is found pretty much all over Ireland.
This morning I got a reply indicating that her Irish origins were of unknown location, but that there was great interest. Yay - something to investigate that would be a break from the frustration of looking for my Kehoes and Byrnes, both more prevalent than Redmond, and so far, yielding only tempting hints of connections. It is so easy to climb the wrong family tree.
I started with the obituary of my friend's father for his name and that of his parents. What a lovely obituary, from a genealogy standpoint. The information that was there was sufficient to start the pursuit. And the records were showing up fast. Then the wifi went down. Arrrgghhh! So, the decision had been made for me - time for a walk. Don't waste the fabulous weather while it lasts. And thus the adventure recounted above.
When I got back, there was still no signal. Ordinarily I'd reboot the modem. But there was a problem. It is not in Moss Cottage, but rather in the main house. The landlord is away until Tuesday. There is a key hidden somewhere - but I have no idea where. My experience as a burglar who easily finds such things is very limited, in fact, I have no such experience. Even if I had the key, the house has an alarm system.
I came by this last piece of information when I called my "emergency contact". She said that she or her husband would be around this afternoon and would check it out. She told me that even if I had the key, the house was alarmed so I could not get in without, shall we say, a disturbance. I kept trying to login again and again figuring it might have been a blip. No dice. I've now memorized the bizarre combo of letters and numbers comprising the password.
Around three, help arrived. Before he had a chance to open the front door - the signal returned. I noticed it because of frequent checks for availability. Having just heard the car pull in on the gravel drive I glanced at my laptop. It was, at that moment, in the process of connecting automatically. Great timing. I felt that I may have raised the alarm too soon but in the end concluded that probably it was a systemic problem and the solution was badly timed. Ah well - here I am.
Once up and running I started again in hot pursuit of Redmond ancestors. They are definitely Irish - not only from the census information, but the propensity to find a few names they liked and just keep on using them generation after generation after - well you get the picture. Within a family this is quite nice. For a genealogist, maybe not so much.
They did however live in a small place in Nova Scotia. Helpful yes. As it turns out, there were lots of them, siblings and/or cousins, with the same names - so progress slowed down to be sure that everything was done right.
I've gone pretty far back on the direct line but still nothing pointing to the location in Ireland. The family has been in Nova Scotia for generations. I've got them sorted back to before the Canadian census of 1851. Earlier censuses (censi?) were mainly in Quebec. Church records are helpful but not totally available or even in existence.
So - more work to do. But it's so much fun. Tomorrow is promising to be chilly and grey and not so inviting to be out. In the evening I'll head to Glenealy for a drama festival and a few one-act plays. Depending on fatigue and the time the last curtain falls, I may stay in Ashford at Margaret's place or may drive back here. The GPS knows the way quite well now and even I am getting better at finding my way home in the dark.
Thursday, January 19, 2017
No excuse for not looking great in this town
This struck me a few days ago and came back into focus this morning. Bunclody probably has the greatest number of beauty and hair salons per capita in the known universe. How do they all stay in business?
When I went for a nail repair and manicure at Dol's (co-owner is Dolores) on Tuesday it was on the recommendation of someone in a nearby pharmacy. I asked there simply because it was the first shop when I turned onto the main street. The very helpful clerk was about to point out other choices when I said "that's fine, I'll go to Dol's". I was not disappointed. I had a lovely conversation with Sarah as she was doing my nails. I'll be back.
I asked Sarah for a recommendation for a hairdresser. Since I wear my hair short I'll need a trim in a few weeks. She said that ?? at the salon next door was very good. Good enough for me. Of course I can't recall the hairdresser's name but I'll just call Sarah as I have her card.
Today I walked to the library to return my book and a CD and pick up two books that I'd requested. As I walked along the street I checked to see if my recollection of all these salons was correct. Yep - take your pick. Every other shop offers beauty services. And there's a spa at the Mill Race Hotel.
After collecting my new books I headed back and decided to stop for a Capuccino and a scone at Sugar and Spice. Delightful and very tasty. That was lunch. I wouldn't advise it as a nutritious choice but it was filling and gave my feet a break.
Heading back home, the hill starts just as you round the corner from the main street. It's gradual at first and then gets steeper. Moss Cottage, my fine little nest, is just at the top of the hill and there is a nice easy slope downwards on the driveway. En route home I took a couple of photos. One is of the sign pointing the way here and the other, which is directly across the street, carries a rather long-winded "No Trespassing" sign. I couldn't resist taking these pictures.
When I went for a nail repair and manicure at Dol's (co-owner is Dolores) on Tuesday it was on the recommendation of someone in a nearby pharmacy. I asked there simply because it was the first shop when I turned onto the main street. The very helpful clerk was about to point out other choices when I said "that's fine, I'll go to Dol's". I was not disappointed. I had a lovely conversation with Sarah as she was doing my nails. I'll be back.
I asked Sarah for a recommendation for a hairdresser. Since I wear my hair short I'll need a trim in a few weeks. She said that ?? at the salon next door was very good. Good enough for me. Of course I can't recall the hairdresser's name but I'll just call Sarah as I have her card.
Today I walked to the library to return my book and a CD and pick up two books that I'd requested. As I walked along the street I checked to see if my recollection of all these salons was correct. Yep - take your pick. Every other shop offers beauty services. And there's a spa at the Mill Race Hotel.
After collecting my new books I headed back and decided to stop for a Capuccino and a scone at Sugar and Spice. Delightful and very tasty. That was lunch. I wouldn't advise it as a nutritious choice but it was filling and gave my feet a break.
Heading back home, the hill starts just as you round the corner from the main street. It's gradual at first and then gets steeper. Moss Cottage, my fine little nest, is just at the top of the hill and there is a nice easy slope downwards on the driveway. En route home I took a couple of photos. One is of the sign pointing the way here and the other, which is directly across the street, carries a rather long-winded "No Trespassing" sign. I couldn't resist taking these pictures.
Sign pointing to Moss Cottage -
perspective doesn't really show the hill but this is where it gets seriously sloped
And directly across the street, on a fence surrounding what looks like a probable construction site, is this warning. Ignore at your peril!
Shortly after getting home I set out for some groceries at Aldi. Almost everything I wanted was there but had to make a visit to SuperValu for a couple of other items. The only thing I couldn't find in town was a set of measuring spoons. Our method of measuring at home with measuring cups and spoons is not used here. It's done by weight. However, my recipes use cups, tsp, tbsp, etc.
Buying the groceries was easy. Getting home was something else. Timing is everything. There is a school right across the street from Moss Cottage. It lets out at the exact time I was coming home. Cars with waiting parents lined one side of the street most of the way up the hill, on the other side, and at the flatter area on top. This is not a wide road. Luckily nobody was parked on the "UP" side, going in my direction. There was quite a wait as I joined the parade of cars. Naturally they all wanted to turn at the top - exactly! That was my destination.
Finally I was able to turn into the driveway. I guess the locals know that getting down the hill into town is best done at other times of the day. There was simply no way to move in that direction. My best guess is the car parked farthest down the hill pointing into town, would, once the kids were on board, move off and let the next one follow. Presumably the parents have this all sorted out. I'd sure hate to be doing it for the first time, or be in a hurry and have to wait for the school parade to end.
Note to self: shop in the morning!
One of the library books I picked up is "The Wicklow Firebrand" - the story of Feagh McHugh O'Byrne. He is a possible ancient ancestor according to legend and what I've read. I think he was the King of Leinster. We are among the Byrnes of Leinster and he was among the first to take on the surname. At least I think that's the story. Once I've read it I will post an update. Off to reading land now.
Wednesday, January 18, 2017
The day after brown bread day
How can I find another day to measure up to yesterday? Actually"measure up" may not be the right term. There was little actual measuring done - just fistfuls, spoonfuls and pours of buttermilk and water.
Today started with an email, saying an e-book I'd placed a hold on at the Ottawa library was now ready to download. It was the latest Flavia de Luce novel. I guess I have the mind of a kid, because these are kids books but oh so delightful. It would be amazing in so many ways to be around a kid like Flavia. No right-minded parent would ever have raised such a kid, but hey, they're novels. They are written by Canadian author Alan Bradley. Light reading and such fun.
So, I downloaded the book and now am almost finished. The day was grey and rather foreboding looking. I went outside twice - once to take the recycling to the bin and the other time to take the garbage. By no definition does this qualify as exercise. The total distance of both trips was about 40 yards. Ah well ...
I had planned a walk to the Bunclody library to return "Precious and Grace" a novel by Alexander McCall Smith. If you haven't ready his "#1 Ladies detective agency" or "The Sunday Philosophy Club" or other series, get thee to a library. No - wait - go online and google the series in order. They are delightful books but best read them in sequence so that you become acquainted with the characters in the right chronological order.
I will have to make that walk tomorrow as a book I'd placed a hold on, has now arrived. It is of genealogical interest, not really entertainment. I have a copy at home but could not bring my entire library with me. I don't have an idetic (sp???) memory so can't recall relevant info. That's what libraries are for so I take advantage.
I spent so much time yesterday, once I got home from Carnew, poring over the Askamore Vol 4 book that I thought I would not want to look at another printed page. Hah! Bring them on. Now I have to find Vols. 1 through 3 and spend as much time poring over them. There are several interesting articles of historical interest. However, I was busy reading the captions under the photos, looking for familiar names. I found quite a few and photographed the pictures I wanted, including the list of names underneath (or beside) the pictures.
If you have ever done Irish genealogy you'll see the irony in "familiar names". I'm rapidly coming to the conclusion that any given family was allowed to use only about 10 names, and did so, in the same sequence over and over. All children of a couple gave all of their children the same names. How on earth did cousins distinguish themselves from one another? At a family reunion if you want assistance you only need to call out "Sean, please come here". Instantly you'd have 10 chaps eager to help.
Lest you think that I spent the entire time reading let me advise you that I do have a cooking gene, if not baking. Rather, the soup making gene. So, I made a pot of mushroom soup. If I had waited a couple more days it could have been rotten mushroom soup so there was some pressure. Having bought some bouillon cubes since my last soup day, the process is easier. I could not find any powdered chicken soup base but cubes worked fine.
My favourite find in SuperValu was the fresh Scottish salmon fillets. For my North American friends, the cost of only 3.50 Euro per pound may provoke some envy. I'd been paying almost 3 times that at home so it was a rare treat. It could become an addiction here. Not sure why there's no Irish salmon. Maybe I'll look into that.
So today was a rather lazy day. This evening, with no access to the tv shows I like to record and play back at leisure, I will listen to a CD from the library. It is a lengthy interview with Owen Murphy and his telling of a childhood encounter with a leprechaun - or rather "an elfish man dressed in green" and later with a banshee, among other stories. Naturally these recollections do not go back to the time that my ancestors actually lived in Ireland but it increases my understanding of Irish life.
So much for today - rather lazy I'm afraid. I like to think of it as pacing myself. Actually I should do a little pacing to make up for the lack of my daily trip up and down, or rather down and up the hill into and out of Bunclody.
Perhaps tomorrow will bring more excitement - or at least motion.
Today started with an email, saying an e-book I'd placed a hold on at the Ottawa library was now ready to download. It was the latest Flavia de Luce novel. I guess I have the mind of a kid, because these are kids books but oh so delightful. It would be amazing in so many ways to be around a kid like Flavia. No right-minded parent would ever have raised such a kid, but hey, they're novels. They are written by Canadian author Alan Bradley. Light reading and such fun.
So, I downloaded the book and now am almost finished. The day was grey and rather foreboding looking. I went outside twice - once to take the recycling to the bin and the other time to take the garbage. By no definition does this qualify as exercise. The total distance of both trips was about 40 yards. Ah well ...
I had planned a walk to the Bunclody library to return "Precious and Grace" a novel by Alexander McCall Smith. If you haven't ready his "#1 Ladies detective agency" or "The Sunday Philosophy Club" or other series, get thee to a library. No - wait - go online and google the series in order. They are delightful books but best read them in sequence so that you become acquainted with the characters in the right chronological order.
I will have to make that walk tomorrow as a book I'd placed a hold on, has now arrived. It is of genealogical interest, not really entertainment. I have a copy at home but could not bring my entire library with me. I don't have an idetic (sp???) memory so can't recall relevant info. That's what libraries are for so I take advantage.
I spent so much time yesterday, once I got home from Carnew, poring over the Askamore Vol 4 book that I thought I would not want to look at another printed page. Hah! Bring them on. Now I have to find Vols. 1 through 3 and spend as much time poring over them. There are several interesting articles of historical interest. However, I was busy reading the captions under the photos, looking for familiar names. I found quite a few and photographed the pictures I wanted, including the list of names underneath (or beside) the pictures.
If you have ever done Irish genealogy you'll see the irony in "familiar names". I'm rapidly coming to the conclusion that any given family was allowed to use only about 10 names, and did so, in the same sequence over and over. All children of a couple gave all of their children the same names. How on earth did cousins distinguish themselves from one another? At a family reunion if you want assistance you only need to call out "Sean, please come here". Instantly you'd have 10 chaps eager to help.
Lest you think that I spent the entire time reading let me advise you that I do have a cooking gene, if not baking. Rather, the soup making gene. So, I made a pot of mushroom soup. If I had waited a couple more days it could have been rotten mushroom soup so there was some pressure. Having bought some bouillon cubes since my last soup day, the process is easier. I could not find any powdered chicken soup base but cubes worked fine.
My favourite find in SuperValu was the fresh Scottish salmon fillets. For my North American friends, the cost of only 3.50 Euro per pound may provoke some envy. I'd been paying almost 3 times that at home so it was a rare treat. It could become an addiction here. Not sure why there's no Irish salmon. Maybe I'll look into that.
So today was a rather lazy day. This evening, with no access to the tv shows I like to record and play back at leisure, I will listen to a CD from the library. It is a lengthy interview with Owen Murphy and his telling of a childhood encounter with a leprechaun - or rather "an elfish man dressed in green" and later with a banshee, among other stories. Naturally these recollections do not go back to the time that my ancestors actually lived in Ireland but it increases my understanding of Irish life.
So much for today - rather lazy I'm afraid. I like to think of it as pacing myself. Actually I should do a little pacing to make up for the lack of my daily trip up and down, or rather down and up the hill into and out of Bunclody.
Perhaps tomorrow will bring more excitement - or at least motion.
Tuesday, January 17, 2017
Brown Bread day
I had an appointment this afternoon in Carnew at 2 pm. Today was bread making day at Kathy Doyle's. We had made the date on Sunday in Coolross and I was excited to learn how to bake a delicious (or even edible) loaf of Irish brown bread - rather than the large tasteless lumps I've produced in the past that were more suited to use as door-stoppers than for lunch.
My morning amble into Bunclody started a bit late, but who cares? The ground was damp and you could see where the car had been parked as the stones beneath it were dry. But it was quite warm so I donned the raincoat, put up the hood and headed out on foot. I wasn't even into town when I put the hood down - and that was that for the rain. No umbrella had been required. It was more like wet in the air than actual rain. My mission was to find somewhere to get a broken fingernail repaired and to replace the peeling polish on my nails. Dol's was suggested so it was there I went. I made an appointment with Sarah for 5 pm. Then I returned up the hill and home. No noticeable difference in my fitness yet. It's still a tedious walk back up.
About 1:30 I got into the car and pointed it in the direction of Carnew. This is possibly the sole destination for which I don't need the GPS. Directions are easy. Out my gate, turn right and except for a pause at the bottom of the hill, it's a straight drive to a T-intersection where I turn right and keep going until I'm in Carnew. Even I can't get lost on this route. Really, I can't. Really.
I do have a bit of a reputation for finding unusual routes from starting point to destination - no matter where I am. I think it's genetic. But I've got a fix on Carnew. From here to Coolross - ah, the roads less traveled seem to be the ones I find. It is exceptionally beautiful countryside here near the Wexford, Wicklow, Carlow borders. Perhaps my inner chauffeur just wants to see it all. But I digress.
The trip took less time than I'd expected so I was a bit early. No matter, I was shown a suitable parking spot not far from Kathy's door and then walked into the community centre where she was finishing up her card game. We walked back to her unit and got to work.
When I bake, there is a stack of measuring cups and spoons that get pressed into service every time. Then the ingredients are assembled on the counter top ready for use. To make great brown bread, Kathy uses a sieve for "measuring" and sifting the right amount of white flour, a nice coffee mug for liquids, a large-ish spoon and fists full of this and that ingredient, a decent pour of buttermilk and water as needed. Hmmm - how will I get it right when I'm on my own?
I took lots of photos and a couple of little videos. I paid close attention. The intention was that I'd write down instructions as close to the quantities and process as possible as soon as the bread was in the oven. Well, once the bread was baking we made coffee and took it into the living room for a chat while the bread baked. I somehow missed the writing down part. It may be a while before I "try this at home" because I'll have to consult with Kathy to see if my instructions are close to what's needed. I think the process of having a coffee is an option.
We got looking at her album of prize certificates from decades of entering country fairs. They are arranged from all the first prizes through thirds. It took a lot of pages before we ran out of the firsts. She's been honoured for brown bread, soda bread, tea brack and scones and other items I've forgotten. No recipes needed for any of them - she has made so many it's all second nature.
When the bread was ready, Kathy took it out of the oven and out of the pan, dusted off the bottom of the loaf with a brush, then with the loaf upside down, put it back in the oven, lowered the temperature and we adjourned again to the living room. After about 5 minutes she turned off the oven and let the bread stay a bit longer before taking it out. What a magnificent loaf it was!
Shortly afterwards, the doorbell rang and rather than Kathy getting up I answered just for fun. The lady at the door figured she had the wrong house. However, I told her Kathy was in and both she and her little girl, both named Mary, came in for a bit. They were waiting for her father who was visiting the doctor nearby.
They joined us for coffee and Mary mentioned the lovely smell of the bread. I insisted she take part of it at least so Kathy cut off 1/4 of the loaf. I brought the rest home and made supper out of a couple of pieces and a bit of smoked salmon. Yum - best brown bread ever.
I had planned to add the video of the process but it takes forever to upload so will just stick in a photo of the finished product. Aren't you jealous?
My morning amble into Bunclody started a bit late, but who cares? The ground was damp and you could see where the car had been parked as the stones beneath it were dry. But it was quite warm so I donned the raincoat, put up the hood and headed out on foot. I wasn't even into town when I put the hood down - and that was that for the rain. No umbrella had been required. It was more like wet in the air than actual rain. My mission was to find somewhere to get a broken fingernail repaired and to replace the peeling polish on my nails. Dol's was suggested so it was there I went. I made an appointment with Sarah for 5 pm. Then I returned up the hill and home. No noticeable difference in my fitness yet. It's still a tedious walk back up.
About 1:30 I got into the car and pointed it in the direction of Carnew. This is possibly the sole destination for which I don't need the GPS. Directions are easy. Out my gate, turn right and except for a pause at the bottom of the hill, it's a straight drive to a T-intersection where I turn right and keep going until I'm in Carnew. Even I can't get lost on this route. Really, I can't. Really.
I do have a bit of a reputation for finding unusual routes from starting point to destination - no matter where I am. I think it's genetic. But I've got a fix on Carnew. From here to Coolross - ah, the roads less traveled seem to be the ones I find. It is exceptionally beautiful countryside here near the Wexford, Wicklow, Carlow borders. Perhaps my inner chauffeur just wants to see it all. But I digress.
The trip took less time than I'd expected so I was a bit early. No matter, I was shown a suitable parking spot not far from Kathy's door and then walked into the community centre where she was finishing up her card game. We walked back to her unit and got to work.
When I bake, there is a stack of measuring cups and spoons that get pressed into service every time. Then the ingredients are assembled on the counter top ready for use. To make great brown bread, Kathy uses a sieve for "measuring" and sifting the right amount of white flour, a nice coffee mug for liquids, a large-ish spoon and fists full of this and that ingredient, a decent pour of buttermilk and water as needed. Hmmm - how will I get it right when I'm on my own?
I took lots of photos and a couple of little videos. I paid close attention. The intention was that I'd write down instructions as close to the quantities and process as possible as soon as the bread was in the oven. Well, once the bread was baking we made coffee and took it into the living room for a chat while the bread baked. I somehow missed the writing down part. It may be a while before I "try this at home" because I'll have to consult with Kathy to see if my instructions are close to what's needed. I think the process of having a coffee is an option.
We got looking at her album of prize certificates from decades of entering country fairs. They are arranged from all the first prizes through thirds. It took a lot of pages before we ran out of the firsts. She's been honoured for brown bread, soda bread, tea brack and scones and other items I've forgotten. No recipes needed for any of them - she has made so many it's all second nature.
When the bread was ready, Kathy took it out of the oven and out of the pan, dusted off the bottom of the loaf with a brush, then with the loaf upside down, put it back in the oven, lowered the temperature and we adjourned again to the living room. After about 5 minutes she turned off the oven and let the bread stay a bit longer before taking it out. What a magnificent loaf it was!
Shortly afterwards, the doorbell rang and rather than Kathy getting up I answered just for fun. The lady at the door figured she had the wrong house. However, I told her Kathy was in and both she and her little girl, both named Mary, came in for a bit. They were waiting for her father who was visiting the doctor nearby.
They joined us for coffee and Mary mentioned the lovely smell of the bread. I insisted she take part of it at least so Kathy cut off 1/4 of the loaf. I brought the rest home and made supper out of a couple of pieces and a bit of smoked salmon. Yum - best brown bread ever.
I had planned to add the video of the process but it takes forever to upload so will just stick in a photo of the finished product. Aren't you jealous?
Sunday, January 15, 2017
Life in the slow lane - laundry day
Yesterday, January 14th, was another late start sort of day. I seem to wake up too early and roll over for another few minutes, which become hours. I have to stop that. However, it didn't matter much. It was a lovely day for the most part with a bit of mist that you would hardly notice. What I did notice was the the laundry basket was getting full and the dresser drawers were getting empty - so time for some washing.
All's well - everything clean and now dry. I found a folding clothes rack in the laundry room and brought it into the large downstairs bedroom. The landlords are away on holiday so they won't be needing it for another week. The large bedroom is heated by a radiator for which I can't find a control so it's quite cosy and perfect for clothes drying. That light mist outside meant it wasn't a great idea to use the outdoor clothes line unless I didn't care when the clothes would be dry again.
I finished reading my novel from the Bunclody library and caught up on email and of course did a bit of ancestor searching online.
I did look up Frank Taaffe's blog and if I start reading now and do nothing else, it will be Friday before I get anything else accomplished. The blog is sort of indexed but not many names are mentioned in the titles of the posts. I do hope to get through it all one day. For those interested, if you have Kildare ancestry, check it out:
www.athyeyeonthepast.blogspot.ie
All in all a satisfactory day - if not hugely productive.
All's well - everything clean and now dry. I found a folding clothes rack in the laundry room and brought it into the large downstairs bedroom. The landlords are away on holiday so they won't be needing it for another week. The large bedroom is heated by a radiator for which I can't find a control so it's quite cosy and perfect for clothes drying. That light mist outside meant it wasn't a great idea to use the outdoor clothes line unless I didn't care when the clothes would be dry again.
I finished reading my novel from the Bunclody library and caught up on email and of course did a bit of ancestor searching online.
I did look up Frank Taaffe's blog and if I start reading now and do nothing else, it will be Friday before I get anything else accomplished. The blog is sort of indexed but not many names are mentioned in the titles of the posts. I do hope to get through it all one day. For those interested, if you have Kildare ancestry, check it out:
www.athyeyeonthepast.blogspot.ie
All in all a satisfactory day - if not hugely productive.
Friday, January 13, 2017
What do you do on a sunny January day in Wexford? Head to Kildare, that's what.
Despite a bit of a slow start on my part, when I opened the blinds I saw that the day was sunny and bright, if somewhat cool. I thought of going for a walk up Strawberry Hill, as yet unexplored. However, I decided to call a contact regarding my Fennell-Whelan ancestors on the border of Laois and Kildare. She gave me some suggestions, including having a chat with Frank, the owner of O'Brien's pub in Athy. A little more investigating indicated that a day trip was in order.
The road from here to there, unlike other routes I've taken and have yet to take, was pretty straightforward and easy to find. So, with the computer packed up ready for action I put pedal to the metal and headed north-ish. Turned out I never used it, but best to be prepared.
Unfortunately I have no photos of the scenery along the way. I kept thinking that one of those cameras used for Google Street View would have been ideal. I did steal a few glances left and right and everywhere I peeked was beautiful. It's a bit hilly around Bunclody but as I drove, the ground got somewhat flatter.
This was no prairie drive though. Off in the distance were hills, snow-covered and magnificent. On the way up to Athy I couldn't identify them. Well, surprise Ann, what could you identify around here? On the way back though, I'm pretty certain I was looking at Mt Leinster, the highest peak in this part of the country. It was clear most of the way up the slopes but cloud sat on top like a hat. Gorgeous. The sunset only enhanced the views. Still no photos - and I decided I need a navigator who's handy with a camera. Don't have one. Darn.
My trusty GPS led me directly to the town square in Athy where I quickly found a place to park and dutifully fed the "pay and display" machine. Turns out if I had driven about 30 yards farther along it would have cost much less than the 1.50 Euro per hour. However, in my opinion it was well worth the expense.
I popped into O'Briens first but Frank was not yet in the pub so his daughter Judith pointed me across the street to J-one Cafe where I enjoyed a toasted chicken panini with a salad. The food was great, but as the door opened just about four feet from where I'd found a seat, it was more than a tad chilly. The place was full of school kids, on a lunch break I assume. Their chips looked good but I didn't fall prey to their tempting smell. All I wanted to do was fortify myself for some history.
Genealogy alert. You may not be interested in the rest of this unless family history is your thing. The people I'm in pursuit of are connections to my ggg grandparents: Michael Fennell and Bridget Whelan who emigrated to Canada circa 1850. Their daughter Annie Fennell married Patrick Fitzpatrick in Brockville in 1852. Of course that was during a gap in the church records. Sometimes I think the ancestors timed noteworthy events like marriages and baptisms for times when nothing would be recorded. Now back to Athy...
After lunch I fed the meter again and headed into the Athy Museum where I had a lovely chat with the lady and gentleman at the information desk. We had a great chat and I filled out a form that will be given to Clem Roach, a local genealogist. He'll be in touch and will help to see if more information can be found on the Fennell-Whelan bunch. There was a lovely little gift shop and the museum looks interesting too, so I'll be back there for sure.
While waiting for O'Brien's to re-open after noting the sign "Back in 5 minutes", I wandered around back of the museum. In the same building is the local library. Goldmine is more like it. I chatted with two librarians who may just have opened the floodgates.
I didn't have time to explore all of their resources and references, but they told me of Frank Taaffe who writes a weekly column for the Kildare Nationalist, the local paper. I bought a copy later and will sift through this evening. As it happens it was a story that he had written that I came upon some time ago. A "Miss Fennell" donated land for a Church (St Mary's) and school in Barrowhouse, the townland I'm looking for. Could there be a connection? Can one assume that on a given townland, there is only one family with a certain name? Well, no, of course not. Think of Coolross and all the unrelated Byrne families. Anyway - it's a ray of light.
I have Frank's contact information and once I've read his column for this week will try to compose a message to him. Apparently if the trail is interesting it could be featured in a column. I don't really need to have a newspaper article, but this could lead to discoveries of interest. He has a lot of knowledge of local history and obviously the investigative instincts to find out more.
I have put Athy library on top of the list of where to return! I really have to have a look at what they've got by way of local history. The centre of town is a one-stop shopping excursion. Everything I want to see is in the one place. I got directions to Barrowhouse and will make that the first stop next time I'm back. Little hope of finding an old house still standing but I believe that St Mary's church and school which date back to 1830, are still there.
To get to Barrowhouse, I would turn left at the other end of the square and go over two bridges, take the next left turn, and when I pass three cottages I'm at Barrowhouse. There is a small church there, St Mary's. If I stop at a pub between the two bridges I'm likely to find someone named Doyle with a lot of knowledge of folks on THAT side of the bridge. Frank O'Brien specializes on the Athy side.
I popped back over to O'Briens to see if Frank was there. He was. We had a lovely chat and he told me a wonderful story of a lady from the U.S. who was there on vacation, looking around the old stomping grounds of her family who had emigrated two generations earlier. She said there were no living relatives who had not emigrated. Well, she was wrong, one had been left behind. And, she was at that moment sitting on the seat beside the bar that was locally known as his place. The gentleman (I forget his name) had passed away but his son was living. Frank was able to introduce them and a new family connection was made and apparently has flourished.
Dare I hope for such a think with our Fennels and/or Whelans?
Stay tuned.
The road from here to there, unlike other routes I've taken and have yet to take, was pretty straightforward and easy to find. So, with the computer packed up ready for action I put pedal to the metal and headed north-ish. Turned out I never used it, but best to be prepared.
Unfortunately I have no photos of the scenery along the way. I kept thinking that one of those cameras used for Google Street View would have been ideal. I did steal a few glances left and right and everywhere I peeked was beautiful. It's a bit hilly around Bunclody but as I drove, the ground got somewhat flatter.
This was no prairie drive though. Off in the distance were hills, snow-covered and magnificent. On the way up to Athy I couldn't identify them. Well, surprise Ann, what could you identify around here? On the way back though, I'm pretty certain I was looking at Mt Leinster, the highest peak in this part of the country. It was clear most of the way up the slopes but cloud sat on top like a hat. Gorgeous. The sunset only enhanced the views. Still no photos - and I decided I need a navigator who's handy with a camera. Don't have one. Darn.
My trusty GPS led me directly to the town square in Athy where I quickly found a place to park and dutifully fed the "pay and display" machine. Turns out if I had driven about 30 yards farther along it would have cost much less than the 1.50 Euro per hour. However, in my opinion it was well worth the expense.
I popped into O'Briens first but Frank was not yet in the pub so his daughter Judith pointed me across the street to J-one Cafe where I enjoyed a toasted chicken panini with a salad. The food was great, but as the door opened just about four feet from where I'd found a seat, it was more than a tad chilly. The place was full of school kids, on a lunch break I assume. Their chips looked good but I didn't fall prey to their tempting smell. All I wanted to do was fortify myself for some history.
Genealogy alert. You may not be interested in the rest of this unless family history is your thing. The people I'm in pursuit of are connections to my ggg grandparents: Michael Fennell and Bridget Whelan who emigrated to Canada circa 1850. Their daughter Annie Fennell married Patrick Fitzpatrick in Brockville in 1852. Of course that was during a gap in the church records. Sometimes I think the ancestors timed noteworthy events like marriages and baptisms for times when nothing would be recorded. Now back to Athy...
After lunch I fed the meter again and headed into the Athy Museum where I had a lovely chat with the lady and gentleman at the information desk. We had a great chat and I filled out a form that will be given to Clem Roach, a local genealogist. He'll be in touch and will help to see if more information can be found on the Fennell-Whelan bunch. There was a lovely little gift shop and the museum looks interesting too, so I'll be back there for sure.
While waiting for O'Brien's to re-open after noting the sign "Back in 5 minutes", I wandered around back of the museum. In the same building is the local library. Goldmine is more like it. I chatted with two librarians who may just have opened the floodgates.
I didn't have time to explore all of their resources and references, but they told me of Frank Taaffe who writes a weekly column for the Kildare Nationalist, the local paper. I bought a copy later and will sift through this evening. As it happens it was a story that he had written that I came upon some time ago. A "Miss Fennell" donated land for a Church (St Mary's) and school in Barrowhouse, the townland I'm looking for. Could there be a connection? Can one assume that on a given townland, there is only one family with a certain name? Well, no, of course not. Think of Coolross and all the unrelated Byrne families. Anyway - it's a ray of light.
I have Frank's contact information and once I've read his column for this week will try to compose a message to him. Apparently if the trail is interesting it could be featured in a column. I don't really need to have a newspaper article, but this could lead to discoveries of interest. He has a lot of knowledge of local history and obviously the investigative instincts to find out more.
I have put Athy library on top of the list of where to return! I really have to have a look at what they've got by way of local history. The centre of town is a one-stop shopping excursion. Everything I want to see is in the one place. I got directions to Barrowhouse and will make that the first stop next time I'm back. Little hope of finding an old house still standing but I believe that St Mary's church and school which date back to 1830, are still there.
To get to Barrowhouse, I would turn left at the other end of the square and go over two bridges, take the next left turn, and when I pass three cottages I'm at Barrowhouse. There is a small church there, St Mary's. If I stop at a pub between the two bridges I'm likely to find someone named Doyle with a lot of knowledge of folks on THAT side of the bridge. Frank O'Brien specializes on the Athy side.
I popped back over to O'Briens to see if Frank was there. He was. We had a lovely chat and he told me a wonderful story of a lady from the U.S. who was there on vacation, looking around the old stomping grounds of her family who had emigrated two generations earlier. She said there were no living relatives who had not emigrated. Well, she was wrong, one had been left behind. And, she was at that moment sitting on the seat beside the bar that was locally known as his place. The gentleman (I forget his name) had passed away but his son was living. Frank was able to introduce them and a new family connection was made and apparently has flourished.
Dare I hope for such a think with our Fennels and/or Whelans?
Stay tuned.
Thursday, January 12, 2017
Not quite a walk in the snow (Canadians of a certain age will understand this) - but after the snow had ended
I awoke this morning - rather late as it happened - and upon pulling open the curtains to look out on the pretty tree with white blossoms (I am such a botanist!) got a bit of a shock. Between me and the tree, big fat snowflakes were falling. Not quite believing it I went all the way into the kitchen - about 30 feet max - and found my view of the hills also spotted with the white flakes. Arrrggghhh! Unlike at home, it was not accumulating but melting upon impact. On the distant hill - Gibbet's Hill is the name of it - the snow did stay around. Accumulation must have been close to a centimetre to make it still visible. Snow in the distance - OK, I'll take that any day.
Once showered and dressed I decided to step outside to check how cold it was - and it wasn't. Well, not for a Canuck. I understand that it was actually warmer by a few degrees in Halifax if not elsewhere as well. I returned to my loft (that's got a nice ring to it) and got the camera, put on the hiking boots and a jacket and made a little tour of the garden. Everything blooming yesterday was still blooming today. I especially love the primroses which seemed not to mind the chill at all. The daffodils are sprouting about 6" out of the soil. Yay! The Gilsenan's garden is beautiful even without leaves on most of the trees and is immaculately cared for. It recalls my favourite children's book, The Secret Garden. The door to the garden has a lovely pointed arch and gate, but its location is anything but secret.
Once back inside I had breakfast - er, brunch - and figured it was time to join the library and see what they have to offer by way of helpful volumes on local history.
I took a few photos - posted to Facebook for those following there - and that reminded me that I need to set up a link to put pictures for anyone interested.
https://www.dropbox.com/sh/r0oizl5czwfqkrq/AABpNaaHjP-4pNfHpxwmUnKla?dl=0
that link should take anyone interested to the photos I've taken so far. I will be naming them as I go along but there will always be a lag. If the link doesn't work, please let me know.
not sure if the above link allows you to see the cottage interior. Here is that link
https://www.dropbox.com/sh/6r8mkxcimiu6qoe/AAC4gkugcvVhmOpKp-BJc6yWa?dl=0
From this point on it's pretty much genealogy related for my own purposes of keeping track. It may not be of general interest.
I have not been leaving the genealogy alone completely but it's time to get serious about it. Which family should I investigate? I fear I have reached nearly the end of the line with the Byrnes but remain hopeful. The Fennells are the next major line to check and of course the Whelans, who are also from Laois (Queen's county in the old times). Annie Fennell was my gg grandmother, married to Patrick Fitzpatrick. Now there's a guy who's a lost cause, but I digress.
Annie's parents were Mick Fennell and Bridget Whelan. They lived in the townland of Monebrock in Co Queens (now Laois) near the border of Co Kildare. Annie's family left around the time of the famine and settled in Brockville, Ontario, but most of the extended Fennell family remained in Ireland and I don't know if any Whelans left at all. There is a line of Fennells in Monebrock and a nearby townland called Barrowhouse, right up to 1911 - after which I have uncovered no records at this time. However, there are still Fennells in that area and I'm on the investigative trail. Dare I hope to find living relatives as Dad and I did with the Byrnes? Fingers crossed.
The others of whom I'm in hot pursuit, are the Kehoes. Arthur Byrne married Eliza Kehoe. They have remained elusive as no marriage record exists for Art and Eliza. Their church, St Brigid's in Clonegal, started keeping records in 1833. From those records I have the baptisms of their 4 youngest children and the names of their sponsors. Among them - two Kehoes, Martin and Owen. Griffiths Valuation puts them in the area of Clonegal and there are still Kehoes in that area today. Hmmm - could I be lucky a second and even a third time? Owen and Martin are likely to have been Eliza's brothers.
Well - I was hoping the Bunclody library might have something. I walked to the library this afternoon and after a brief chat with a librarian, was issued a library card. Can't beat the Irish for trusting a stranger. I love libraries and was welcomed heartily.
They have a collection of CDs which are interviews with locals, recorded about 8-10 years ago, and their recollections of times past. Most of the stories are of times since my own ancestors left, but a couple seemed very interesting so I borrowed two CDs and will have them to listen to this evening. There are only about 7 TV stations that I can get so entertainment options are limited. Once I've heard the news and weather there isn't much else to grab my attention, aside from Mrs Brown's Boys. They are a season behind with the North American shows here just as we were a season behind with Downton Abbey.
The library catalogue provided info on several reference books that piqued my curiosity. Sadly only a few reside in Bunclody. The others are part of the country-wide library system and most are reference books. So - some possible day trips in my future. The Wexford library in Wexford town probably offers the most. Wicklow town will be the same. More day trips ahead.
I did find a few books from which I photographed maps. Almost every day I find maps to be incredibly more useful than the day before, in visualizing places and distances experienced by the ancestors. They provide a good idea of just how far it would have been feasible for them to move.
Darkness was closing in and I had yet to buy my shampoo so I packed up, checked out the CDs and a book (fiction, for my own amusement) and headed back. I found the desired product in Macauley's, dropped the bottles in my pack along with the book and CDs and headed back up the street. UP being the operative word.
Let the fact-finding begin!
Once showered and dressed I decided to step outside to check how cold it was - and it wasn't. Well, not for a Canuck. I understand that it was actually warmer by a few degrees in Halifax if not elsewhere as well. I returned to my loft (that's got a nice ring to it) and got the camera, put on the hiking boots and a jacket and made a little tour of the garden. Everything blooming yesterday was still blooming today. I especially love the primroses which seemed not to mind the chill at all. The daffodils are sprouting about 6" out of the soil. Yay! The Gilsenan's garden is beautiful even without leaves on most of the trees and is immaculately cared for. It recalls my favourite children's book, The Secret Garden. The door to the garden has a lovely pointed arch and gate, but its location is anything but secret.
Once back inside I had breakfast - er, brunch - and figured it was time to join the library and see what they have to offer by way of helpful volumes on local history.
I took a few photos - posted to Facebook for those following there - and that reminded me that I need to set up a link to put pictures for anyone interested.
https://www.dropbox.com/sh/r0oizl5czwfqkrq/AABpNaaHjP-4pNfHpxwmUnKla?dl=0
that link should take anyone interested to the photos I've taken so far. I will be naming them as I go along but there will always be a lag. If the link doesn't work, please let me know.
not sure if the above link allows you to see the cottage interior. Here is that link
https://www.dropbox.com/sh/6r8mkxcimiu6qoe/AAC4gkugcvVhmOpKp-BJc6yWa?dl=0
From this point on it's pretty much genealogy related for my own purposes of keeping track. It may not be of general interest.
I have not been leaving the genealogy alone completely but it's time to get serious about it. Which family should I investigate? I fear I have reached nearly the end of the line with the Byrnes but remain hopeful. The Fennells are the next major line to check and of course the Whelans, who are also from Laois (Queen's county in the old times). Annie Fennell was my gg grandmother, married to Patrick Fitzpatrick. Now there's a guy who's a lost cause, but I digress.
Annie's parents were Mick Fennell and Bridget Whelan. They lived in the townland of Monebrock in Co Queens (now Laois) near the border of Co Kildare. Annie's family left around the time of the famine and settled in Brockville, Ontario, but most of the extended Fennell family remained in Ireland and I don't know if any Whelans left at all. There is a line of Fennells in Monebrock and a nearby townland called Barrowhouse, right up to 1911 - after which I have uncovered no records at this time. However, there are still Fennells in that area and I'm on the investigative trail. Dare I hope to find living relatives as Dad and I did with the Byrnes? Fingers crossed.
The others of whom I'm in hot pursuit, are the Kehoes. Arthur Byrne married Eliza Kehoe. They have remained elusive as no marriage record exists for Art and Eliza. Their church, St Brigid's in Clonegal, started keeping records in 1833. From those records I have the baptisms of their 4 youngest children and the names of their sponsors. Among them - two Kehoes, Martin and Owen. Griffiths Valuation puts them in the area of Clonegal and there are still Kehoes in that area today. Hmmm - could I be lucky a second and even a third time? Owen and Martin are likely to have been Eliza's brothers.
Well - I was hoping the Bunclody library might have something. I walked to the library this afternoon and after a brief chat with a librarian, was issued a library card. Can't beat the Irish for trusting a stranger. I love libraries and was welcomed heartily.
They have a collection of CDs which are interviews with locals, recorded about 8-10 years ago, and their recollections of times past. Most of the stories are of times since my own ancestors left, but a couple seemed very interesting so I borrowed two CDs and will have them to listen to this evening. There are only about 7 TV stations that I can get so entertainment options are limited. Once I've heard the news and weather there isn't much else to grab my attention, aside from Mrs Brown's Boys. They are a season behind with the North American shows here just as we were a season behind with Downton Abbey.
The library catalogue provided info on several reference books that piqued my curiosity. Sadly only a few reside in Bunclody. The others are part of the country-wide library system and most are reference books. So - some possible day trips in my future. The Wexford library in Wexford town probably offers the most. Wicklow town will be the same. More day trips ahead.
I did find a few books from which I photographed maps. Almost every day I find maps to be incredibly more useful than the day before, in visualizing places and distances experienced by the ancestors. They provide a good idea of just how far it would have been feasible for them to move.
Darkness was closing in and I had yet to buy my shampoo so I packed up, checked out the CDs and a book (fiction, for my own amusement) and headed back. I found the desired product in Macauley's, dropped the bottles in my pack along with the book and CDs and headed back up the street. UP being the operative word.
Let the fact-finding begin!
Tuesday, January 10, 2017
Late start and late finish
Well it was a long night and consequently a late morning rising - but hey I had nowhere else to be. The weather was quite good but for some reason I thought the clouds looked menacing so I didn't take advantage of the day by heading either up or downhill. Have I mentioned that there really is no flat place to walk? It's a matter of degree of incline - and today I was not inclined in any direction to any degree.
I did make a pot of soup - well a small pot - and put the new blender to the test. Success! However, this was not progress towards my genealogy goals. It did use up some carrots, parsnips, an onion and an apple - sprinkled with some of the new spice collection. But I wanted progress - backwards in time.
Out came the laptop and I spent considerable time trying to chase down the baptism record of Annie Fennell, my great great grandmother, well, one of them. Going backwards in time gives you exponentially more relatives. You are not nearly alone on the branches of your tree. Annie has been pretty elusive, appearing in the odd census and in the Fitzpatrick family bible. Apart from that her shyness has been carefully preserved. Likewise for her siblings.
How is it that almost none of my ancestors did anything newsworthy? They never even stole a loaf of bread, or a neighbour's chicken? No arrests for public drunken behaviour. They must have misbehaved behind closed doors. How about a skeleton in the closet or a ghost on the stairs? Actually, there was one of those but he's on the other side of the family tree. A story for another time.
I figured that a page by page review of the parish records now online, which yielded info on the marriage of Annie's parents and baptisms of a few of her siblings, might do the trick. Hah! The only trick was that the vanishing act of Annie's is still working. I did keep finding records for a Patrick Fitzpatrick which was the name of Annie's husband but it's not the same chap. Just one relative with an unusual name would be worth celebrating. Just one - please!
So - still no progress. Maybe switching to the writing tasks would be a good move. Well, that turned out to be simply re-reading what I'd written and simply adding a few commas and changing a word or two. Aggie's Dash is still a work in progress. I need one date and it is not available online. It's in an Ottawa city directory at Library and Archives Canada in the original hardcopy directory, or at a few other locations on microfilm. Not a single one of them is available to me here. My plans to uncover the information before leaving kept getting derailed by snow storms.
Saved by the bell - or whatever one would call the unusual ring tone of my brand spanking new local mobile phone. I've finally figured out how to swipe correctly to answer it - once I recognized what the dinging was all about. It was Tom Byrne calling with an invitation to come over this evening - so I went.
I brought along the few things I had brought for the young lads. The biggest hits were the small cars - a New York Yellow Cab and a NYPD fire truck I'd purchased from a street vendor on the Brooklyn Bridge. Who knew that a young lad in Ireland "had always wanted" a NY taxi? Who knew that he'd even seen one - but that's the magic of television. They also loved the miniature hockey sticks and balls. I'll make Canadians out of them yet - Senators fans at least.
The evening was spent in interesting conversation with the Byrnes and a couple who had also dropped in, and of course included a mighty tasty little slice of Ann's apple pie.
We chatted until much later in the evening than I'd anticipated before I finally pointed the car back towards Bunclody. It's about a 20 minute drive during which I encountered only 3 other cars on the road. Now it's late again and I'm snug in the cottage wondering what is causing the motion-activated light to keep coming on outside. It's likely the wind which is picking up quite a lot and blowing something within range of the sensor. It has just gone off again and so shall I to the land of nod, I hope.
Tomorrow I shall attempt to do something worthy of more than these ramblings.
I did make a pot of soup - well a small pot - and put the new blender to the test. Success! However, this was not progress towards my genealogy goals. It did use up some carrots, parsnips, an onion and an apple - sprinkled with some of the new spice collection. But I wanted progress - backwards in time.
Out came the laptop and I spent considerable time trying to chase down the baptism record of Annie Fennell, my great great grandmother, well, one of them. Going backwards in time gives you exponentially more relatives. You are not nearly alone on the branches of your tree. Annie has been pretty elusive, appearing in the odd census and in the Fitzpatrick family bible. Apart from that her shyness has been carefully preserved. Likewise for her siblings.
How is it that almost none of my ancestors did anything newsworthy? They never even stole a loaf of bread, or a neighbour's chicken? No arrests for public drunken behaviour. They must have misbehaved behind closed doors. How about a skeleton in the closet or a ghost on the stairs? Actually, there was one of those but he's on the other side of the family tree. A story for another time.
I figured that a page by page review of the parish records now online, which yielded info on the marriage of Annie's parents and baptisms of a few of her siblings, might do the trick. Hah! The only trick was that the vanishing act of Annie's is still working. I did keep finding records for a Patrick Fitzpatrick which was the name of Annie's husband but it's not the same chap. Just one relative with an unusual name would be worth celebrating. Just one - please!
So - still no progress. Maybe switching to the writing tasks would be a good move. Well, that turned out to be simply re-reading what I'd written and simply adding a few commas and changing a word or two. Aggie's Dash is still a work in progress. I need one date and it is not available online. It's in an Ottawa city directory at Library and Archives Canada in the original hardcopy directory, or at a few other locations on microfilm. Not a single one of them is available to me here. My plans to uncover the information before leaving kept getting derailed by snow storms.
Saved by the bell - or whatever one would call the unusual ring tone of my brand spanking new local mobile phone. I've finally figured out how to swipe correctly to answer it - once I recognized what the dinging was all about. It was Tom Byrne calling with an invitation to come over this evening - so I went.
I brought along the few things I had brought for the young lads. The biggest hits were the small cars - a New York Yellow Cab and a NYPD fire truck I'd purchased from a street vendor on the Brooklyn Bridge. Who knew that a young lad in Ireland "had always wanted" a NY taxi? Who knew that he'd even seen one - but that's the magic of television. They also loved the miniature hockey sticks and balls. I'll make Canadians out of them yet - Senators fans at least.
The evening was spent in interesting conversation with the Byrnes and a couple who had also dropped in, and of course included a mighty tasty little slice of Ann's apple pie.
We chatted until much later in the evening than I'd anticipated before I finally pointed the car back towards Bunclody. It's about a 20 minute drive during which I encountered only 3 other cars on the road. Now it's late again and I'm snug in the cottage wondering what is causing the motion-activated light to keep coming on outside. It's likely the wind which is picking up quite a lot and blowing something within range of the sensor. It has just gone off again and so shall I to the land of nod, I hope.
Tomorrow I shall attempt to do something worthy of more than these ramblings.
Sunday, January 8, 2017
Rain, sun, a lovely drive and even better dinner and conversation
This morning, despite my nagging sore feet, I went for a bit of a walk in the spitting rain, around the neighbourhood. I opted not to walk down the hill into town because I'd have to climb back up. It's fairly flat for a few hundred yards in the other direction so off I went. At the end of the pavement a narrow road, Strawberry Hill according to the sign, looked quite attractive. Going this direction I would be walking uphill to start with and could finish with the down hill run. Hmmm - I stuck to the more-or-less flat streets. There's really nothing truly flat around here. This is a small town but there is much farmland too. In one nearby field were two horses having a quiet moment. In another, directly across the road from Moss Cottage, were a few goats. None of the animals obliged by prancing, jumping or doing anything much at all. I hoped the goats would provide some amusement but they were more intent on munching the grass.
During a brief visit to her place on Friday, Margaret had invited me and two others for dinner today. I met Anne and Lynne when I was here in Spring 2013 when they were planning "The Gathering: Canada Come Home". That's when I also met Margaret. It was a wonderful afternoon of eating and talking and the hours flew by.
Dinner featured leg of lamb with mint jelly and gravy, potatoes - two kinds, roasted veggies, peas and the most amazing rhubarb crumble. I topped it all off with a couple of cups of coffee. I should feel sleepy around 3 am - I'm wide awake now and it's almost midnight.
Instead of taking route-planning advice which had resulted in a rather twisted route through Gorey to get here, I let the GPS take me back to Ashford. I have renewed faith in the annoying little voice that tells me, nicely, where to go.
Most of the way was on quite good roads up to the motorway which is terrific. The one part on narrow twisting roads was traversed in sunshine. Every corner brought a lovelier view - at least so far as I could see it while driving. Around one bend was a massive house with the most amazing multi-level thatched roof. I will have to go back on the next sunny day and take pictures. Not far from there the winding trail went over a narrow stone bridge. I was grateful there was nobody coming the other way. Eventually this road led to Ferns and its lovely castle which houses a tapestry that I'm putting on the list of 'what to see'.
As the journey took less time than I needed, I asked the GPS where to find the nearest Lidl store, and found it easily. I stocked up on some herbs/spices for cooking. I briefly contemplated an inexpensive milk frother quite similar to one I had at home that really doesn't do an adequate job. Right beside it was an electric steamer/frother which called my name. I answered the call. It wasn't expensive either. Tomorrow's coffee will be a great improvement over any I've made so far. The cinnamon I bought will top it off nicely.
I'm going to try to get the bedroom cool enough to really enjoy the cosy warm duvet. It was a bit of overkill last night. I have more heating options here than I'd ever imagined.
Our conversation this afternoon did wander down the genealogy trail as the other girls are also interested in their family histories. Margaret pulled out a roll of pages of her family tree. The author produced it using Excel - a spreadsheet. It was a work of art. I can only imagine how long it took to put together and to reference each ancestor from page to page.
I'm waiting to hear from a volunteer genealogist in Co Kildare who is going to help me try to locate information, and maybe the precise location, of the home place of my Fennell and Whelan ancestors. Fingers crossed that she has time soon. It's only an hour's drive away and I'll be there whenever it suits her.
No specific plans for this week other than to get somewhat organized about my searches and writing. I'll probably drive over to Coolross and Rocktavern to say hello as well.
Hopefully my next installment will be more interesting.
Ann
During a brief visit to her place on Friday, Margaret had invited me and two others for dinner today. I met Anne and Lynne when I was here in Spring 2013 when they were planning "The Gathering: Canada Come Home". That's when I also met Margaret. It was a wonderful afternoon of eating and talking and the hours flew by.
Dinner featured leg of lamb with mint jelly and gravy, potatoes - two kinds, roasted veggies, peas and the most amazing rhubarb crumble. I topped it all off with a couple of cups of coffee. I should feel sleepy around 3 am - I'm wide awake now and it's almost midnight.
Instead of taking route-planning advice which had resulted in a rather twisted route through Gorey to get here, I let the GPS take me back to Ashford. I have renewed faith in the annoying little voice that tells me, nicely, where to go.
Most of the way was on quite good roads up to the motorway which is terrific. The one part on narrow twisting roads was traversed in sunshine. Every corner brought a lovelier view - at least so far as I could see it while driving. Around one bend was a massive house with the most amazing multi-level thatched roof. I will have to go back on the next sunny day and take pictures. Not far from there the winding trail went over a narrow stone bridge. I was grateful there was nobody coming the other way. Eventually this road led to Ferns and its lovely castle which houses a tapestry that I'm putting on the list of 'what to see'.
As the journey took less time than I needed, I asked the GPS where to find the nearest Lidl store, and found it easily. I stocked up on some herbs/spices for cooking. I briefly contemplated an inexpensive milk frother quite similar to one I had at home that really doesn't do an adequate job. Right beside it was an electric steamer/frother which called my name. I answered the call. It wasn't expensive either. Tomorrow's coffee will be a great improvement over any I've made so far. The cinnamon I bought will top it off nicely.
I'm going to try to get the bedroom cool enough to really enjoy the cosy warm duvet. It was a bit of overkill last night. I have more heating options here than I'd ever imagined.
Our conversation this afternoon did wander down the genealogy trail as the other girls are also interested in their family histories. Margaret pulled out a roll of pages of her family tree. The author produced it using Excel - a spreadsheet. It was a work of art. I can only imagine how long it took to put together and to reference each ancestor from page to page.
I'm waiting to hear from a volunteer genealogist in Co Kildare who is going to help me try to locate information, and maybe the precise location, of the home place of my Fennell and Whelan ancestors. Fingers crossed that she has time soon. It's only an hour's drive away and I'll be there whenever it suits her.
No specific plans for this week other than to get somewhat organized about my searches and writing. I'll probably drive over to Coolross and Rocktavern to say hello as well.
Hopefully my next installment will be more interesting.
Ann
Saturday, January 7, 2017
Better than expected
As I type this, the TV has been retuned to an English channel - as opposed to the Irish language that provided news and weather to those who understood. I of course am still ignorant of those facts, my Irish not being up to snuff.
The flights over were both delayed, but worked out just fine in the end. We needed serious de-icing of the wings in Ottawa but the guys responsible did a great job. If they hadn't I don't suppose I'd be posting this. The weather in Toronto was clear with no need for that process. The flight to Dublin was delayed out of Toronto because the plane was late arriving from wherever it had been. Between walking from arrival gate to departure gate in Toronto, and walking down the stairs onto the tarmac in Dublin and onward to the baggage carousel I got my 10,000 steps. Just as well because it was a long sit on the plane. Note to Toronto Pearson airport - some signs indicating where to find E and F when you arrive in section D would be appreciated. You only need to walk about a half a kilometer to see the signs - if you have chosen the right direction when setting out. What was rather annoying to discover was that the long corridor I had to walk in one direction was parallel to the corridor I had to walk back the same distance and is connected by bridges not accessible to the public. Argghhh.
Oliver met me at the Dublin airport and his help with the baggage was hugely appreciated. We took the shuttle to the Hertz location for the rental car. I upgraded to an automatic and now have a lovely Ford Focus. The trunk easily held the two large suitcases - yay! Getting them up and into the trunk is a different challenge. Once I figured out how to get out of the airport, having done a drive-by of the rental place once again, it was smooth sailing to Ashford. Driving in circles seems to be my pattern here. This is much aided by all the roundabouts.
Not surprisingly, there was food awaiting my arrival. Mary Harte cannot welcome anyone without nourishing the body and spirit. She did a wonderful job of both. For supper we had Hake (a lovely white fish), more potatoes than I'd eat in a month, plus carrots and shredded cabbage. Mary served the plates and despite requesting a small portion, I got a huge plateful of goodness. Needless to say I could not finish.
Now I have been pampered from time to time in the past, but this treatment was special: my bed was pre-heated with an electric mattress pad and I had a hot water bottle that kept my toes cosy all night long. There was a heater in the room which I turned off so that I could enjoy the mountain of duvets and quilts. The toilet had a fluffy seat cover to keep my tush from freezing.
I went to bed early, after having had just a few winks on the plane, and slept until 9 am this morning. Yikes! Needless to say I was quite refreshed and ready to go. Well, not so fast! When I got up and was given Mary's lovely cosy housecoat to keep me warm, there was coffee and toast for me. That would have been enough. Oops - that was followed by a huge bowl of porridge. OK - breakfast is done. Not so fast. Mary started beating eggs and flour to make pancakes. Whoa - I'd already had more than needed and simply could not eat any more. In fact, I didn't eat again until 5 pm when the porridge finally wore off.
It was after 11 when I got away and headed south on the M11. It's a great highway and had little traffic and of course - no snow or ice!!!! I sailed right along and the GPS, locally known as a Sat Nav, had me well directed. Oliver suggested that I take the Gorey-Inch exit, not the one the GPS wanted. However, it is a patient device and fond of recalculating, so the tour became a bit more interesting. When I got to Gorey the "straight ahead" option usually was given on a curve that offered other turns and straightaways as well, and directions to turn right at X street were interesting as I believe they use invisible street signs. Finally I eventually found myself near the shopping centre and was more or less oriented. I only made one more loop around the town, before finding the right road.
There is a folk song here called "The one road" and has a line that says "maybe the wrong road". It's my theme song when driving in rural Ireland. Every single trip that I don't have a local navigator I find the wrong road. Even with the GPS. But it's fun. Of course this also happens to me at home.
I passed Ann and Tom Byrne's at the Rocktavern but it was more important to find my cottage and get stocked with groceries so I didn't stop - just nodded as I sailed past. From there it was easy-peasy to find Bunclody and Moss Cottage, my Irish home for now.
Mary Gilsenan, my landlady, gave me the tour and "how to" lessons on the important features and here I am. It's absolutely delightful and better than I could have dreamed. They have a lovely garden that I'll explore on the first sunny day. That may take a while to arrive.
I have installed myself in the bedroom on the first floor (not the ground floor), co-located with the kitchen, living-dining room and a huge bathroom. It's bright and cheery and ideal. The washer and dryer are on the ground level through a separate entrance and in that same spot I've been provided with a small freezer so I can do a little cooking ahead. If I make soup I won't have to have it for 6 meals in a row. I can freeze some. That area is not heated and could serve as a cold room.
The coffee maker is a French press for which I'm sure I'll figure out appropriate quantities of ground coffee. The dishwasher might not get much use as it's easy to wash up a couple of dishes. I will probably buy a blender of some sort but otherwise there's nothing missing.
I headed out to Aldi for some grocery shopping and was pleasantly surprised by the great selection and the prices. And they have wine and beer. So much more civilized than the Ontario approach to alcohol. The prices are also more civilized. The Sauvignon Blanc was lovely with dinner, but I'm getting ahead of myself. They didn't have herbs and spices so I'll shop for those elsewhere. I bought some basics along with some fresh veggies and chicken. For this evening I bought a prepared meal of chicken, veggies and potatoes which was very tasty and inexpensive. They seemed to have a lot of such options so perhaps I won't do much meal prep anyway.
The wifi is working perfectly, the new phone is humming along and all devices have logged into the network easily. Now I can be reached by friends and relatives in Ireland as a local, not international, call.
I've taken a little break from the organizing of my stuff, so I'll complete the process of settling in shortly. The clothes are all put away, but the paper and books need to be sorted out. The coffee table is looking like the likely location for these supplies.
This great room is in the upper level of a former stable or garage, so the walls are sloped. Having nearly concussed myself about 4 times, I've lined up the dining chairs along one wall so it won't happen again. When you walk up the stairs from the ground floor and look straight ahead it looks like you've entered a waiting room, but my head is safe.
Tune in again soon. No photos other than the one on FB but I'll take some soon and put them somewhere with a link. Comments are welcome although I can't say whether you need to do anything to add them. My point of view as the author of the blog is a bit different than that of my readers.
Slan
The flights over were both delayed, but worked out just fine in the end. We needed serious de-icing of the wings in Ottawa but the guys responsible did a great job. If they hadn't I don't suppose I'd be posting this. The weather in Toronto was clear with no need for that process. The flight to Dublin was delayed out of Toronto because the plane was late arriving from wherever it had been. Between walking from arrival gate to departure gate in Toronto, and walking down the stairs onto the tarmac in Dublin and onward to the baggage carousel I got my 10,000 steps. Just as well because it was a long sit on the plane. Note to Toronto Pearson airport - some signs indicating where to find E and F when you arrive in section D would be appreciated. You only need to walk about a half a kilometer to see the signs - if you have chosen the right direction when setting out. What was rather annoying to discover was that the long corridor I had to walk in one direction was parallel to the corridor I had to walk back the same distance and is connected by bridges not accessible to the public. Argghhh.
Oliver met me at the Dublin airport and his help with the baggage was hugely appreciated. We took the shuttle to the Hertz location for the rental car. I upgraded to an automatic and now have a lovely Ford Focus. The trunk easily held the two large suitcases - yay! Getting them up and into the trunk is a different challenge. Once I figured out how to get out of the airport, having done a drive-by of the rental place once again, it was smooth sailing to Ashford. Driving in circles seems to be my pattern here. This is much aided by all the roundabouts.
Not surprisingly, there was food awaiting my arrival. Mary Harte cannot welcome anyone without nourishing the body and spirit. She did a wonderful job of both. For supper we had Hake (a lovely white fish), more potatoes than I'd eat in a month, plus carrots and shredded cabbage. Mary served the plates and despite requesting a small portion, I got a huge plateful of goodness. Needless to say I could not finish.
Now I have been pampered from time to time in the past, but this treatment was special: my bed was pre-heated with an electric mattress pad and I had a hot water bottle that kept my toes cosy all night long. There was a heater in the room which I turned off so that I could enjoy the mountain of duvets and quilts. The toilet had a fluffy seat cover to keep my tush from freezing.
I went to bed early, after having had just a few winks on the plane, and slept until 9 am this morning. Yikes! Needless to say I was quite refreshed and ready to go. Well, not so fast! When I got up and was given Mary's lovely cosy housecoat to keep me warm, there was coffee and toast for me. That would have been enough. Oops - that was followed by a huge bowl of porridge. OK - breakfast is done. Not so fast. Mary started beating eggs and flour to make pancakes. Whoa - I'd already had more than needed and simply could not eat any more. In fact, I didn't eat again until 5 pm when the porridge finally wore off.
It was after 11 when I got away and headed south on the M11. It's a great highway and had little traffic and of course - no snow or ice!!!! I sailed right along and the GPS, locally known as a Sat Nav, had me well directed. Oliver suggested that I take the Gorey-Inch exit, not the one the GPS wanted. However, it is a patient device and fond of recalculating, so the tour became a bit more interesting. When I got to Gorey the "straight ahead" option usually was given on a curve that offered other turns and straightaways as well, and directions to turn right at X street were interesting as I believe they use invisible street signs. Finally I eventually found myself near the shopping centre and was more or less oriented. I only made one more loop around the town, before finding the right road.
There is a folk song here called "The one road" and has a line that says "maybe the wrong road". It's my theme song when driving in rural Ireland. Every single trip that I don't have a local navigator I find the wrong road. Even with the GPS. But it's fun. Of course this also happens to me at home.
I passed Ann and Tom Byrne's at the Rocktavern but it was more important to find my cottage and get stocked with groceries so I didn't stop - just nodded as I sailed past. From there it was easy-peasy to find Bunclody and Moss Cottage, my Irish home for now.
Mary Gilsenan, my landlady, gave me the tour and "how to" lessons on the important features and here I am. It's absolutely delightful and better than I could have dreamed. They have a lovely garden that I'll explore on the first sunny day. That may take a while to arrive.
I have installed myself in the bedroom on the first floor (not the ground floor), co-located with the kitchen, living-dining room and a huge bathroom. It's bright and cheery and ideal. The washer and dryer are on the ground level through a separate entrance and in that same spot I've been provided with a small freezer so I can do a little cooking ahead. If I make soup I won't have to have it for 6 meals in a row. I can freeze some. That area is not heated and could serve as a cold room.
The coffee maker is a French press for which I'm sure I'll figure out appropriate quantities of ground coffee. The dishwasher might not get much use as it's easy to wash up a couple of dishes. I will probably buy a blender of some sort but otherwise there's nothing missing.
I headed out to Aldi for some grocery shopping and was pleasantly surprised by the great selection and the prices. And they have wine and beer. So much more civilized than the Ontario approach to alcohol. The prices are also more civilized. The Sauvignon Blanc was lovely with dinner, but I'm getting ahead of myself. They didn't have herbs and spices so I'll shop for those elsewhere. I bought some basics along with some fresh veggies and chicken. For this evening I bought a prepared meal of chicken, veggies and potatoes which was very tasty and inexpensive. They seemed to have a lot of such options so perhaps I won't do much meal prep anyway.
The wifi is working perfectly, the new phone is humming along and all devices have logged into the network easily. Now I can be reached by friends and relatives in Ireland as a local, not international, call.
I've taken a little break from the organizing of my stuff, so I'll complete the process of settling in shortly. The clothes are all put away, but the paper and books need to be sorted out. The coffee table is looking like the likely location for these supplies.
This great room is in the upper level of a former stable or garage, so the walls are sloped. Having nearly concussed myself about 4 times, I've lined up the dining chairs along one wall so it won't happen again. When you walk up the stairs from the ground floor and look straight ahead it looks like you've entered a waiting room, but my head is safe.
Tune in again soon. No photos other than the one on FB but I'll take some soon and put them somewhere with a link. Comments are welcome although I can't say whether you need to do anything to add them. My point of view as the author of the blog is a bit different than that of my readers.
Slan
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