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.
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