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.
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