An uncooperative camera on a fabulous couple of days

Since I require my phone - my go-to camera - and taking pictures drains the battery very quickly, I decided to press the little digital camera into service. Well, you have to press fast. This little piece of kit sucks batteries dry, after mere minutes of use. I'm on the 4th set of batteries since leaving home and I've taken only a few dozen photos with this little box. I've tried several brands and it enjoys consuming Duracell brand, as well as it did the Panasonic, Kirkland and another unfamiliar brand name. I think it's time to find a different device. I'm thinking maybe a spare phone battery would do the trick and be cheaper than a new camera.

So, my plan to make it easy to upload pictures from the SD card is in disarray. Ah well - that's the only problem I'm dealing with. Lucky me.

Back to yesterday. I was about to walk into town when I stopped to chat with Brian who'd been working in the garden. He said it should be a good time to go up Mt Leinster as you need a clear day. Not only does the sun make the view more spectacular, it's much safer to drive the narrow road, carved out of the side of the hill, without guardrails, when it's clear. I had visions of my trip up Cape Smoky on the Cabot Trail - following the tail lights of the car in front in order to stay on the road.

The entrance to the Mt Leinster heritage drive is just around the corner from here. The first part of the journey was easy, if narrow, and I stopped at a parking lot which I was pretty sure was not the site of the Nine Stones (http://carlowtourism.com/stones-viewing-point/). It wasn't, but the views were amazing.

I obviously missed the sign indicating the turnoff to the road farther up - turns out to have been a good thing. Anyway, I decided to drive on, seemingly off the edge of the earth, on the road above. It kept twisting and turning (what else is new?) and kept going down. Down? Eventually I decided that what lay ahead would be worth investigating one day but that's not where I wanted to go. Back uphill to the previous parking lot.

While there, snapping more pictures (see my FB page) I asked an older gentleman if he knew where to find the Nine Stones. He was from Mayo and just visiting his son who lived in Bunclody. So I spoke to the son. He said that although it was also his plan to go up there, the warning in his car, as in mine, that the road was freezing, was enough to tell him not to go. Looking up Mt Leinster, the top was snow covered from the previous night's "meteorological activity". The road could be seen but it was in shadow. If the road surface was freezing where we were, there's no way either of us would risk the upper road. There are few spots where two cars can pass, there's no guard rail, and about 1 foot on either side where you could slide too. Not all skids are that short on black ice. OK - live to drive another day.

So, off I went to find the Sensory Garden in Carlow. Fortunately the drive did not take me to the centre of that town. I might still be there trying to find the right road to take to come back. The last part of the trip was a bit confusing as the GPS kept telling me to turn on a named street. Well, if you can find any street sign there I'll buy you dinner. Eventually I found it. It's not really a street but the entrance to a garden centre - where the sensory garden is located, down the road and around the back. 

I enjoyed a lovely bowl of vegetable soup and brown bread in the cafe. Many of the staff have special needs and they do a great job keeping the cafe looking spiffy. I sat in the glassed in patio where it was almost hot from the sun. Wonderful.

Then I found my way to the admission area and paid my 5 Euro. There are 16 gardens, interconnected, and all completely accessible to wheelchairs. There are many sculptures which can be explored with your hands, in almost every one. There are many scented plants in some areas, the ever present running or splashing water and beautifully arranged spaces. The reclining woman was the prize winner at a large garden competition - possibly the Chelsea flower show. I hadn't put all the parts together when one of the gardeners pointed it out to me. There's also a marble ball floating on water and several interesting bridges and arches.

Even without colourful flowers it's a lovely scene.

I've never seen this sort of twisting branched shrub - the picture doesn't quite do it justice.

Can you see the reclining lady? Her head is on the right.

The marble ball is actually floating on the water - you can give it a push

What better use of a tree stump? This is one of many sculptures.

Today my first destination was the large cork oak tree in the cemetery of the Church of Ireland in Shillelagh. I can't tell you how often I've passed that yard but had never gone in. We have no connections to the C of I. There's a lovely book on the Heritage Trees of Ireland and I hope to see quite a few of them. One is a line of trees - on the main street in Bunclody. They are free of leaves at the moment and not too photogenic. This cork tree was worth a visit.

Then I headed to Tinahely with the hope of seeing the Adam and Eve hanging tree. En route I got enticed by the sign to Coolboy and turned off. Then I took another turn at Tomnafinoge. Lo and behold a parking lot leading to a number of walking trails. So - next nice day, which may not be for about a week, I will head there for a stroll. 

I dropped in briefly at the Coolattin golf club - mostly to use the facilities- and had a nice chat with the pro. We've spoken before. Things are pretty quiet there. Today is sunny but extremely windy and there was only one player on the course - a very hardy woman. Good for her. It's too cold and windy for me to even think of playing golf today.

Back on the road to Bunclody I turned off to see the village of Clohamon, just a few kms away. Never got there - another narrow road called my name. Back in town, I drove up towards and then past the GAA field. I'd seen this impressive sports field from the heights near Clohamon. 

So now I'm back in port, so to speak, I'll shortly get ready to set out for Castledermot. There's a presentation this evening on how to research your family history in that area. My Fennells and Whelans are from not far away so I'm sure to learn something.

Tomorrow afternoon I'm going with Tom Farrell to meet Ronnie Shorten. She has amazing original documents of her family's history and I know I'll learn even more from her. The weather forecast, which could include snow if it's cold enough, will be appropriate for indoor activities.

A quiet wet and windy day

It was a good day to stay put and stay warm and dry. I spent most of it searching for the Farrell connections. No, not a new line in my own family, but that of Tom Farrell. Funny where a short conversation and a successful first search for a record can lead.

Last night after supper with the Farrells and the Hartes, Mary brought out some old photos she had brought along. Halleluia. Now I can add some pictures of the Byrnes to the collection. We talked about the photos for a bit and then Mary started talking about her parents and grandparents. Up to this point she had not shown much interest in the past, she'd rather look forward. Now that we've started the conversation I expect to hear some more stories.

The weather has not been nice enough to entice me to take any long walks. There isn't much time between showers. We did not, however, suffer much from storm Dora.

Saturday I went over to Coolross to see the new puppies - a litter of 7 male Border Collies. Oh yeah, they're just fine and very fit. It's like watching a perpetual motion machine with parts that sometimes separate and then jump back together. They've all been given temporary names until they find forever homes where they'll keep the sheep and/or cattle in line. Anyone want a working dog?

Quite by surprise a little lamb made a very early appearance. It's just fine although smallish. I don't know if it's male or female. Mama is very protective. One of the puppies got out of their blocked off space and as it approached the new mother she started to stamp her foot. Aoife quickly swooped in and removed the pesky pup and all was well again.

This evening I'm getting a lift to another story-telling evening. Hopefully I'll find out a little more about this area from my traveling companions. It's a short drive so it might be just a start. What do people do here - aside from the hairdressers who seem to be in every second shop. If they aren't in retail or aesthetics there must be other options. It's a bit far to commute to Dublin but perhaps they drive elsewhere.

There are a number of plans for this week and I'll report after the fact. Fingers crossed that there are some breakthroughs in the near future.

Storytelling in Bunclody

Well tonight was the first chance I got to attend a story-telling evening. And it was right down the street - yes down. The trip home was UP of course. The event was at St Aiden's parish hall which I've been passing, on every trip into town. It was built in 1916 - it says so in stone on the exterior. I've noticed that a few buildings in town have their construction date in stone, somewhere on the facade. So far the earliest I've seen is 1870 but I'll keep looking.

I chanced to pick up a brochure at the public library earlier in the week, about story-telling evenings in Wexford. Well ta-da, there was one tonight. Happily I had got the info in time. I phoned one of the people who were listed to see if one had to register to attend. Nope - come on in anytime.

As it happened, it was Andy Doyle. He was one of the two men who provided so much entertainment at Egan's pub a few weeks ago. Again this evening he entertained with two recitations - one was a repeat from Egan's, but equally as entertaining as it was the first time. He was one of many who contributed.

I had no idea what to expect by way of "stories". Well - there were no stories, as I would have defined them. There were a few musicians (3 accordionists and one guitar player) which I hadn't expected. Apparently the cold windy weather kept folks away because there are usually more folks there.

Andy seemed to be the main host, and first holder of "the stick". It looked like a long cane - or shillelagh. The stick was passed and the recipient either sang or told a "story". For story, read "joke", usually lengthy although not necessarily. The musicians accompanied most of the songs although some were sung a capella. The stories were all funny although I admit to struggling with the accent of some of the tellers.

About half way through there was a break for tea and goodies. I had a coffee and a conversation. I expect to be up all night. It's after 1 am and I'm still bright eyed and bushy tailed. The tail will be dragging in the morning - or should I say later this morning.

This evening's crowd was mainly comprised of the "silver hair society" of which I'm now a charter member. There were however, a couple of young boys, maybe early teens. One even told two jokes. It's nice to know that this tradition is being passed along.

There is another such evening in Rathoe on Sunday and I might just make my way there. It would be hard to beat the two traditional Irish evenings I've enjoyed so far. In Scotland I tried sticky toffee pudding at every opportunity, looking for the best one. Here in Ireland I'll try as many story-telling evenings as I can to decide which is the best.

And now I'll lay me down and try to sleep.

Photos - post #2

Here are some more that I haven't been able to post before

With Danuta at Quarry Bank cotton mill - thanks for the hat and mitts D - would have frozen without them.

Walking down the final flight to the Sheffield train station

The cholera monument that I passed daily en route to the Sheffield Archives

Tudor building is The Howard pub where I indulged in fish and chips

The view from my B&B room - pretty much all homes seem to be this colour - and many are huge

My Stockport hosts and friends Dominic and Iona at the Elizabeth Haskell home - worth a visit

The Corn Exchange in Leeds - excellent town centre for walking around

The middle of town in Leeds - lots of pedestrian areas, loved the mural and the architecture

I don't think the Blue Rinse set really shops at this boutique

Outside of the market building - or part of it

 

Fresh fish and seafood anyone?

You can buy anything here - the terms 'tacky', 'motley' and 'flotsam and jetsam' come to mind

The interior of the Kirkgate market is spectacular - the photos don'e do it justice

still inside the market building

the other - or another - entrance to the same market - could spend the day inside

Loved this pub entrance

 and when you walk through that entrance you arrive here - and it just goes on

The Photo Edition

This is the first of a couple of pictorial entries to catch up on what I've had to leave out

Ruins of the Fennell home at Barrowhouse; full size of house is indicated by the bit of remaining wall see to the left of the bushes. Believed to be the home of Michael and Bridget (Whelan) Fennell and his parents Nicholas and Ann.

Garden at Burtown House, Kildare; home of a different Fennell family.

I've never seen a tree with green branches with red tips, which I suppose is the new growth

At Moone near the high cross - I love views through windows especially without glass

This horse is in a field near my cottage. Anyone know the breed?

With all the beautiful buildings I couldn't resist this tacky one - it's a B&B

Johnstown Castle in Wexford - excellent displays; looking forward to interior being decorated in 2018.

If you want to move peat from a bog you need an appropriate 'sled' that won't get stuck

Camping might be fun in one of these - belonged to a tin selling tinker

Fortunately I just go to the store for my butter; note height of the doorway in this famine cabin replica

And this is how much the ancestors got to eat every day - before the blight

Fabulous quilt, made in 1847 and donated by a descendant; note the stuffing - I wonder was it cosy?

Tools of the carpenter and wheelwright - as Art Byrne was in Ireland and Canada

This quilt is a reproduction - very ornate - every stitch by hand; but this is a new one and probably not stuffed with paper

Courtyard of Johnstown Castle - homes of staff like the Groomsman; see the peacock?

Daniel, our guide at the Irish Heritage Park; neolithic temporary "tent"

Entry to the ring fort at the Heritage Park

reproduction celtic cross

Should have opened with this one

I'm Baaaack

Internet problems have been resolved after a few weeks of intermittent service. Seems it was the modem/router. That problem was easily fixed but the service provider came late to the party. A service person finally came around and now everything is fine.

So - several days have passed since my last update. What has happened? Well, I discovered among other things, that I had simply bought a series of dud batteries for the camera. I got some Duracells today and it's working fine. That will save my phone battery and also make it easier to upload pictures. Because my phone and laptop speak different languages, despite having a "translation" app, I can't directly copy pictures to the blog. Once finished this post I'm going to upload a bunch of photos and either post a link or create a pictorial post.

Monday was the day I got a real car. No more little CITGONE. It's gone. I drove to Wexford town with a friend and happily made the exchange. I'm now enjoying the VW Golf diesel, It actually moves when I step on the gas and the needle has hardly moved on the gas guage.

So, once in motion we headed through the edges of town to Johnstown Castle. What a delightful place. The castle was at one time privately owned and it has been well maintained. The grounds are lovely - with a river and a lake and their very own peacock strutting about. He strutted right up to the top of the castle and stayed there. Unfortunately I didn't witness that journey. He flew of course and that would have been fun to see.

There are some wonderful displays of antique farm equipment, but what I found most charming was the Great Famine Exhibit. I suppose that calling it charming sounds rather cavalier. There was nothing charming about the famine. However, they have re-created (indoors) a house that would have been typical of the time and have audio explanations and a number of posters to guide you along.

One display showed the typical day's food consumption for children, women and men. All potatoes - but different quantities. Another showed a quilt which has been donated. It was sewn in 1847 and through the tattered fabric you can see it was stuffed with newspapers. It was a large quilt with many tiny hexagonal pieces and every stitch was done by hand. Awesome, really, and it good shape considering the age.

There was a street of shops illustrating the tools of various trades. I found the shop of the carpenter and wheelwright of particular interest as great great great grandpa Art Byrne was a carpenter and wagon maker. He would have used similar tools to ply his trade - on both sides of the Atlantic.

We enjoyed a cup of tea and a scone in the cafe and then walked around the complex and did a circuit around the lake. The sun did not make even a momentary appearance, but fortunately neither did the rain. The pictures came out brighter than expected. It was a bit mucky underfoot but that's why we wore old shoes.

From there we drove to the Irish Heritage Centre and went back in time - to before the pyramids. Ireland has a very complex and very long history and it's amazingly well represented at this place. The tour guide was a young fellow with long legs and a quick stride. He moved from site to site so fast that none of us could keep up. He had plenty of time to compose himself before the small group of followers caught up for the next lot of information.

Everything there is a re-creation. Even the Dolman. It would have been some effort to lift the ten ton stone onto the top when it was done a few years ago. Cranes were available for the purpose. Just how it was done a few thousand years ago is beyond my comprehension. They were obviously resourceful. There are quite a few Dolmans around Ireland, although I've only seen one other myself. This was a pretty impressive sort of mini-cemetery in its day. Cremated remains would be put into pots of some sort and placed in the interior of the Dolman. Most likely it was just the leaders of society who got such a burial spot.

En route back Marg suggested stopping at her daughter's home and that was fine with me. What I had not counted on was the spectacular views on the little road that took us there - hilly with lots of turns. Even more hills and turns than usual. Mountainous really. Margaret took a little video out the car window so now I can actually see the terrain. At the time I was really only seeing the road ahead.

Her daughter, also Margaret, has offered to drive us up to the top of Sliabh Bhui (sleeve we) - sounds just as it's spelled. From there you can see to the coast and have a 360 degree view. The road is narrow and there are few places that cars can pass when going in opposite directions. I'll be happy to let her do the driving. We're waiting for a clear sunny day that isn't hazy so the view can be enjoyed to best advantage.

Genealogy alert:
If you're not mired in the past you can shut this down now.

With finally a stable internet connection, I was doing a bit of online searching and came upon a site that had a link that led me to a possible distant cousin in the US. We are pursuing what could be the same family. I am looking for Fennells and he is looking for Finnells - all from the same general area. Spelling is creative in the old records - totally dependent on the writer. The power of the pen ruled supreme. I can blame the priests and other scribes for choosing how they thought names should be spelled. Makes for a longer period of research than when everything is uniformly spelled. Legible writing would have been helpful also.

Anyway after comparing notes by exchanging messages, I've tracked down a bunch more records and treating them like puzzle pieces. Some seem to fit. The odd tombstone inscription pops up that also seems to fit. But my Bloodline CSI pursuit continues. I'm fussy about having enough evidence to make a match.

I went back to a website I had not checked in years: from-ireland.net. I also checked out the various county websites to get to the main libraries. Naturally the Fennells not only used creative spelling, but they lived on a county border. Land records are in Queen's (now Laois (leash)) where they lived and church records are in Kildare where they fulfilled their religious obligations. Civil records are only available for the time after they had left for North America so of no use at this stage. I will return to those for the years between when mine left and when some of the family - I think it's the same family - were found in the 1901 census.

This has made me more determined to go back and find the Tankardstown old graveyard that I couldn't locate on the weekend. Turns out I did have good directions but they lacked a tiny but vital bit of information. The lane where I drove up to the gate, and then rejected, leads to the Tankardstown Vet. There are signs everywhere to make sure you can find the vet. If only Mr Burke had thought to mention that fact on Saturday.

On one of the county websites, I happened upon a "what's on" column and found there is to be a presentation next Tuesday evening in Castledermot which is relevant, perhaps, to finding my Fennells. Castledermot has many ancient sites worth visiting, most mentioned in my copy of Ireland's Ancient East. So - it will be a day long visit. Who knows, maybe I'll meet a local person who has done their family history and it's full of their Fennells and Whelans who also happen to be mine. Why not - lots of other good things have happened.

Tomorrow evening is a story-telling evening at a hall just down the street so I'll walk over and give a listen. Details later.

Today I went to Moone and earlier was over the moon with a fantastic discovery

Internet remains down so I'm using my phone as a mobile hotspot. It works just fine but I'm keeping my eye on data usage. While I was out today, there was a brief period of service, because some email has landed in the inbox. Of course it's out now so I'm writing this offline to copy and paste the moment I get a signal.

This morning dawned sort of cloudy but as the morning progressed it was obvious this would be a beautiful day. I simply could not waste it and chose my destination. Getting there was only half the fun.

I've put aside the Byrne family history for the moment and turned my attention a bit north of here. I'm off to Co. Laois shortly, to see Barrowhouse and Monebrock townlands and try to figure out if there are any remaining Fennells in the area. If so, could we be related?

Starting up the nasty little car that I'm driving, I headed up the N80 once again. The GPS does not much like the name of a townland as a destination so the Google Maps app on my phone was once more pressed into service. It works perfectly and has a very pleasant narrator. A townland is the smallest division of land in Ireland. Every square inch of this country is in a named townland. Knowing the townland of your ancestors is key to finding the data that every family historian is looking for. Once you have that information you need to know the parish – civil and/or Catholic.

Genealogy alert:

Getting this all lined up is not that easy. The parish records are now online, some even indexed on various paid databases, but if you don't know the parish you're looking for, good luck. If you find the parish and subsequently find the name(s) you are seeking in the record of baptisms or marriages, you might be lucky enough to find out the townland name. When recording the data for these events, the priest seemed to have complete freedom as to what he recorded. It could be “I married Michael Fennell and Bridget Whelan” and then name the witnesses. The date was recorded in the left margin and the year and month would be – fingers crossed – written somewhere obvious in the preceding lines or pages. Some priests recorded the townland of the groom and some recorded that of the bride as well. The really dedicated (thank you Father so and so), included the names of the fathers of each of the couple. In the civil registers you would get all that information and usually a rough idea of the ages and whether they were bachelor and spinster, or possibly widowed. Civil registration began in 1864 and that was too late for my folks. Church records start at various times and if you are lucky they go back earlier than 1800. Some didn't start until after 1830.

Knowing the townland is important, but it might not give you the name of the parish, to start your search for records. What is needed, in my humble opinion, is a list of parishes with their geographical area defined, including a list of townlands. Some parishes span county borders – sometimes more than two. Clonegal parish, in the civil parish of Moyacomb, is in Wicklow, Wexford and Carlow. It's not unique. If you know the townland it is easier to find the parish. It's all a huge catch-22.

Back on the narrative trail again.

This time my journey did not take me into Athy, at least not until later. I'm not exactly sure of the route because I was simply following “the voice” but I did cross a lovely stone bridge over the Barrow River, which also flows through Athy. The centre span is usually high to allow the canal boats to pass underneath. The rivers in this part of Ireland are not wide and raging. They are narrowish and although there might be a tiny bit of fast water and a little drop here and there, most are quite navigable. The Barrow is a salmon fishing river, but it's catch and release. I couldn't stop to catch my supper.

Following the Google voice I did get to the townland of Monebrock. It is locally known as Mount Brook. I've seen it written both ways, but the townland.ie database only uses the former name. It's a bit rolling, but flatter than Wicklow and Wexford, and the fields seem quite large. I declined to turn into a farm yard to inquire if there were Fennells anywhere. As it happens, there was a friendly lady out for a walk so I stopped and I asked her if I'd reached the right area. I had.

Then I asked if there were still any Fennells in the area. She didn't think so although not a native of the place. She had just walked past St Mary's Chapel of Ease and said that Noah Burke was there in his white van and he would know, if anyone did. Luckily when I got to St Mary's [just up the road and I'd been there before] and started to wander through the little cemetery, there was Noah.

He confirmed that in fact there were no more Fennells and hadn't been for a very long time. He was born and raised in Barrowhouse – the townland they once occupied – and has a very good knowledge of local history. I told him that I wanted to find the homeplace of Fennell ancestors. Noah said that the Fennell place was now just a ruin and would I like to see it. YES! So, I followed his little white van and soon he stopped on a side road, beside what first appeared to be a pile of rocks and trees. Closer inspection showed it to be a very old house which has been taken over by trees and vines. Apparently the original house was larger and included the part that now had just a few bits of what seemed to be stone walls.

I thanked him profusely and spent a few minutes walking around and taking photos after he drove off. Oddly I did get the same feeling I had when walking the land where my Byrne ancestors had lived. I really don't know if Nicholas and Ann or their son Michael and his wife Bridget (Whelan) Fennell were the occupants of that house, almost 200 years ago. If not their particular house, the place was home to their close relatives. They had about 50 acres. It's now used by a gun club. Hmm.

Of course, when I was taking the pictures it was cloudy. The sun has some sort of connection with my camera. When the camera comes out the sun goes in. As soon as I had driven about half a kilometre, it was once again shining brightly.

I took a roundabout route into Athy and now I've approached it from 3 different directions. It's a busy place. One day I will do a long walk along the shores of the Barrow River from the centre of the town. And, I want to take the barge trip on the river – also on a sunny day if possible.

From Athy I decided to just drive around before heading back to Bunclody. I noticed the sign to Moone and off I went. I went to Hell in Grand Cayman Island. Why not go to Moone in Ireland? There is a celtic high cross there as a reason for a visit.

There was a slight diversion en route when I saw the turn off for Burtown house and gardens. It is owned by Fennells, but not mine. These are – or were – Quakers. I paid the admission and wandered about the lovely gardens for a bit and came close to the house. The family still lives there so there are no tours. I declined to stop for a snack in the cafe.

It pays to be easily distracted here. You never know what beautiful view or scenic gem or historic spot you will find.

From Burtown House, on the road again, it was off to (the) Moone. Finding the village was easy enough. It's well marked. What a lovely little place it is.

Finding the high cross is a bit trickier. The signage is definitely in need of an upgrade. I drove almost right to it before turning around thinking I'd missed it. So, back to the village and I asked a friendly couple. Actually everyone is friendly. With better directions, and only one misstep at what I thought was the right “green gate,” I did eventually come to the cross. It's inside of a ruined chapel and is very medieval looking. It was worth the trouble and I can check off another landmark of Ireland's Ancient East. I was the only one there.

Leaving the site in my rear view mirror I followed the GPS now, to return to Bunclody. After I took the last photo of the cross my phone shut down. I'd wanted to use my camera today but it seems to be no good. I've put in several different sets of new batteries and every time, it tells me the batteries are dead. Surely I can't be so unlucky as to always buy dead batteries. Can I? So – the phone it is. I will now consider getting a spare battery for it, although they are pricey. It's cheaper than a camera and the phone does take great pictures.

So, now back in my nest, I await a full charge on the phone so I can once again get online. Photos will have to wait. The phone doesn't talk to the laptop and photos will only upload if the phone is on wifi. That's it for today. All in all it was a wonderful day.

Typing fast while internet connection is up

It's getting frustrating that the internet connection comes and goes - sometimes up for a few hours and sometimes for minutes. It's impossible to upload photos at the moment. I'll look into transferring from Dropbox to Flickr and will put a link here. You really don't want me to link to Dropbox where my photos are uploaded automatically from the phone (my camera) whenever I have wifi. At present that is not a smooth process. Every time the uploading is in progress and the wifi quits, it kind of resets so I have multiple copies of each picture in Dropbox and I have to get in there and delete 2/3 of the pics.

Yesterday the big adventure was to be a walk in a new place. I don't enjoy walking in a heavy mist so decided against it as soon as I stepped out the door. I did get my hair trimmed - always stressful with a new hairdresser. Time will tell but I'm not overjoyed with the trim. I can live with it until time for the next one.

The highlight of the day was the evening in Bolinrush. Kathleen and Luke hosted the entire family and we had a wonderful meal with more dessert offerings than most restaurants. I loved the amazing apple crumble with custard sauce. My idea of a small serving is somewhat different that what I received, but I loved every morsel. I did pass on the other choices.

After solving the world's political problems over supper, at my table - there were two tables - we all moved into the lounge and enjoyed further conversation. I did learn of a story-telling evening at Ballyroebuck next Saturday night - Feb 25 - during the time that the Keatings are coming for a weekend visit. I hope they're up for it because it sounds like a great time. According to Google Maps it's a 12 minute drive from here. Really? I think I'll do a little test run in the meantime. Rest assured the route is not on roads wide enough for a centre line. That also means not necessarily enough room for two cars to pass with all wheels on the pavement. I've come to appreciate driving at night ,when the headlights warn you of oncoming traffic. Traffic being about one oncoming car per 5 minutes of driving.

When I asked the family for recommendations of places to visit, Ina spoke of the Heritage Park in Wexford and that sounds like a great place to spend a few hours. It's about an hour's drive away. Maybe that's where we will go during the day next Saturday. There are lots of other places of historical significance in that area too.

The rental car! I'm so NOT in love with this little piece of garbage - a CITGO. It will soon be a CITGONE. It can't decide whether to be a manual or an automatic. There's no room in the backseat for anyone with legs. The trunk can hold a load of groceries - remember I'm shopping for one person. It hates hills, pausing to decide whether or not to proceed from time to time. This is rather a disadvantage as I'm in very hilly territory. Whenever it changes gears - in automatic mode - it's like attempting a bad gear change without properly engaging the clutch. There is no "Park". You must use the hand brake when you stop. The "gears" are neither lined up vertically as on an automatic, nor in the familiar H pattern of a manual. When you turn the key to start the beast, there is no reaction for several seconds leading one to think it's not going to start. All in all - insert scream here.

I've just had a conversation with a helpful Hertz agent. I can turn in the little beast on Monday, in Wexford town, for a fee of 40 Euro. Then I can pick up, at that location, a diesel vehicle which will be either another Ford Focus as I had in January, or a VW Polo (Golf for those of us from across the pond). Yay! Either will be fine. The very nice agent told me that would be a much bigger car. Well it's not so huge, but it will allow me to carry passengers, groceries and even suitcases if desired. I can hardly wait.

I've now booked online for a better car, an automatic, with diesel engine. All done and dusted!

I toyed with the idea of saving money by renting a manual as I have at times in the past. However, it's not that expensive living here and it's just so much easier with an automatic that I'm willing to pay the huge premium. Note to the nieces and nephews, your inheritance is dwindling.

Genealogy alert:

I've started working on a binder for Jim, of his family tree. Good progress has been made and with the rate at which Irish records are becoming available, I will at some point simply have to call a halt and work on something else. Just yesterday I found a record that had been in hiding. The family has suffered a lot of losses of children over the years. In almost every case it was from an illness that would not be fatal today. The same thing happened in Canada to the Byrne/Burns family in the 19th and early 20th centuries. I've also uncovered several examples of blindness of males in the family, both here and in Canada, but I have no information on the cause of the blindness in any of the cases. Was it genetic? We'll never know.

I'm going to branch out a little and work on Tom and Kathy's mother's family for a bit. I'm hoping to unravel some mysteries that have arisen from DNA test results. I don't know that I am connected to these in-laws, but the answers are out there somewhere. Welcome to my X Files.

It's wet again today. If it looks like it will stop for long enough I'll stroll into town and/or drive to Gorey, or maybe go in the opposite direction back to Co Laois to look for Fennells. I'm trying to think like a detective and currently am torn between a little shopping trip (not detective like) and talking to people about whether they had heard of the Fennells and where did they all go? Once that's sorted out I'll work on the Whelans. Ah the joys.

Enough for now.

A day in the garden

Yesterday was mostly sunny. Glorious day for a walk - preferably somewhere lovely. Altamont Gardens was my destination. The sun seemed to have plenty of places to hide, triggered by the approach of my finger to the camera button. I fooled it a couple of times but most of the photos indicate the day was cloudier than it really was.

It's also warmer so going outdoors is once more a daily activity. So here are a few gems from yesterday's garden ramble. I might have to insert them later - connectivity on and off. I've made three attempts but the download of pictures times out every time.

Leaving the gardens I had a choice. Back the way I came? That would be boring as it's a route I use a lot. The other way seemed better. There was a sign indicating it was the route to Rathwood. Lovely - nice place to wander and possibly shop. It's where I bought my raincoat - my current outdoor cover. The road was good and eventually a busier road came into view. When I got to the intersection there wasn't a road sign in sight. Nothing. No pointing anywhere. So, I went straight through. Every time I came to a choice after that I arbitrarily turned right. I managed to get a photo of the road with hedges trimmed on one side and awaiting a trim on the other. I've encountered the trimmer but never anywhere that it was safe to stop and take a picture.

Carrying on, I caught a glimpse of a familiar church - St Fiacc's and knew roughly where I was. Just down the hill was Clonegal. Not home, but no further guessing was required. The route I followed was the one that always makes me wish I had a dash cam to take in the views.

Once back in the nest I found the internet connection to be unstable - as it still is. On and off on a whim, although I don't know who has their finger on the "whim" switch. Promises from Vodaphone to repair the two remaining faults are still unfulfilled.

Yesterday I got a call from Vodaphone asking about my mobile service. It's fine. Would I like to upgrade to a contract plan. NO! Would I like a landline? Not hardly. Would I like broadband? Well, now let me tell you sir, about your broadband. It is already provided to me via the landlord. It sucks! And the response, "well that's grand then, thank you. Click" Really? Customer service at its finest - hah!

Time to get out for a walk - no rain clouds although it's not sunny.

Sunshine + warmer temperatures + destination reached = great day

This morning dawned sunny and warmer, if a tad windy, still. My companion Kathy Doyle, was up to the challenge, the horrible little rental car had lots of gas, and I was anxious to get out of the cottage after three miserable days of bad weather. By Canadian standards the weather was not worth a whimper or even the tiniest little whine. After all they are having snow storms of crippling proportions in the eastern part of the country. I was just housebound because I didn't bring warm enough coat and mitts. My bad.

About 10:30 I arrived at Kathy's door and once we figured out how to adjust the passenger seat so that she wasn't pretty much totally reclining, off we went. Who would put the seatback adjustment between the two seats? I've never seen this anywhere but on the side of the seat by the door. Ah well, it got sorted out and we were underway.

Our destination was Crutt – not crud. This was the homeplace of my ggg grandmother Eleanor/Ellen Walsh. She married John Brennan in the village of Clogh, which as far as I could figure out, was from there. The parish church for the area is in Clogh. St Patrick's church has obviously undergone a facelift in recent years because it looks quite modern. A sign says otherwise. It was built in 1826. Ellen and John married there about 1830. Their four children were baptised there – but on dates that scream “that can't be right”.

Anyway, I could not get the GPS to accept just the village as a destination and had no street address to enter. There is no “Main Street”, my usual default entry. However, the roads between here and there are relatively good and well-marked. After all in 2008, Dad and I had successfully arrived in Clogh without using a GPS. Well, hurray for me. We did it again.

We did pass the townland of Moneenroe which figures somewhere in their history, drove in, near, and through Clogh a couple of times. I stopped and took a couple of photos of an old thatched cottage that was built in 1890 and belonged to Phil Barron. Now I'll have to find out who he was – and why was his name not Brennan, everyone else's is.

After a couple of unsuccessful attempts to return to the village, having driven up a promising looking side road, I finally stopped and asked a postman. This would be the primo source of information and as it turns out, great directions, to Crutt. We were to go back up the road where the postman had in fact spotted us driving a few minutes earlier. If you are not local you can bet you're noticed in rural Ireland. He told us to drive back up the same road, past where I had turned around, and when I get to the garage on the right (you'll know it when you see it because there are lots of ??? in front), then take the next left. After you have passed the first four cottages you will be in the townland of Crutt. Well, blow me down – perfect directions. I think, in retrospect, that we were to know the garage by lots of “wrecks” parked around it.

So, when I found a gate in the hedge, I got out and took a few photos of Crutt. It does not appear to be as good farmland as here in Wicklow-Wexford-Carlow region, there were lots of trees, and no sheep or cattle were seen in the fields. It's high ground but didn't seem as scenic as hereabouts. Anyway, mission accomplished.

There is no place open for lunch on Monday in Clogh. We passed Ryan's where Dad and I had stopped over 8 years ago – also closed. Back we went to Castlecomer. It seems to be a lovely town and we had no idea where to look. Driving along the main street, Kathy noticed Cafe 1, so when I found a suitable spot, I executed a U-turn (well the tiny little s&*t box of a car is good for something), drove back up the main street and made another U-y right into a parking spot. Right beside a cross-walk to safely take us back to the cafe. Ta-da.

It was a great choice. We each ordered a bowl of soup, which always comes with two small slices of brown bread), and a sandwich to split. The soup and bread were all we needed so we ordered the sandwich to be wrapped up for travelling and later it became supper for both of us. We did order dessert – I had a slice of fruit bread and Kathy had chocolate cake – half of which also accompanied her home for supper. It was all very tasty and for such a random choice, was perfect. This stop also gave us the chance to get out of the car and move around a bit. I had hopped out – well, extricated myself from the tin box on wheels – to take the pictures a couple of times. For Kathy, the lunch stop was a welcome chance to stretch her legs.

From there, well nourished, we headed to Borris House. It's in Co Carlow and sort of in the direction of home. It is the venue for Kathy's niece's wedding reception this coming May. This time I used my smart phone for directions. As it happens, this is a very smart phone. It didn't need a street address, actually suggested Borris House, and gave us perfect directions. The roads were all in great shape and despite initially missing the gate into Borris House, it only took a little extra tour around a very long “block” to get back. The grounds are fabulous and the house looks like the perfect site for the event. Great choice. Kathy now has an idea of where it will be and how long it will take between the church in Tullow and Borris House for the reception.

Having seen a sign for Leighlinbridge – whence I had passed about 7 years ago – I suggested we go home via that historic village. So we did – but not directly. The smart phone was chatting happily at me when I noticed a lovely viaduct and turned left for a picture. The easy way back was a quick U-turn (do you see a pattern here) back a few hundred yards to the main road we had left. Hah! That's too easy. As a result we drove a few kilometres on the historic Mount Leinster scenic drive. It was lovely, the road was suitably narrow and I'm sure not many tourists venture there. Too bad for them.

Eventually we got back on the right road and drove through Gowran where I was distracted by a beautiful Church, which actually is a ruin. It's quite magnificent so there was another photo op that I took advantage of.

From there the drive was pretty and to Kathy's relief, more or less on good roads. We headed back home and made it safely and happily by about 4:30. All in all a great day.

No genealogy done today but Kathy did recount a few stories. I plan to spend some time with her and her brother Jim some day soon, filling in some blanks in their part of the family tree.

I stopped at Aldi and bought a couple of needed items and forgot the milk. However, the veggie supply has been replenished and I have a new Irish-themed sweatshirt to add to my wardrobe. Cosy items are highly valued at the moment. Aldi has all kinds of distracting items – kind of like visiting Costco but with much more limited selection. I also got a nice top for Maureen – Irish themed of course. They had limited sizes or I'd have one of those too.

The internet connection has come and gone about six times since I got home a couple of hours ago. This was written offline and when the signal comes back I'll try to copy and paste into the blog. Can't download the pictures because signal keeps dropping off. Will try tomorrow. 

Nothing too exciting planned for tomorrow but if it's not too wet I might go for a little drive somewhere just because I can.

Cabin fever

Well I've been back in Bunclody since Thursday evening and I've hardly left the cottage. I went as far as the laundry room which is downstairs, but reached from outside. It's too damn cold and rainy and windy and nasty. I know, I know, it's not as bad as at home. But at least there I have the clothes for it. I would have to wear too many layers - which would not fit under my raincoat - in order to stay warm outdoors. And I have no mitts, my gloves being "good for above freezing" temperatures.

So - what to do in here to pass the time? Don't even ask. Genealogy of course. Well I did call a few friends at home. My cell roaming plan allows me to call Canada for free. Or rather, if I use the phone and pay the international roaming plan fee for the day, there is no additional charge for a call to Canada.

I still can't get many photos to upload from the little camera - still trying though. Leeds pics to come soon.

Tomorrow is promising to be sunny with a high of 10C, so Kathy Doyle and I are taking a little day trip to Castlecomer/Clogh area of Kilkenny. We will try to find the townlands that my ggg grandparents John Brennan and Ellen Walsh emigrated from. The townlands in question are Coolnaleen, Crutt and Clogh. I visited Clogh with Dad in 2008. We stopped in a shop and chatted briefly with the lady in charge. We were the only ones there. She asked the surname of the people we were researching. I asked her to guess and she said "Brennan". It's so common there that each family has a nickname to distinguish one from another. Sadly I don't know the nickname of my Brennans. Maybe I'll have more luck looking for the Walshs. Unlikely. In any case, we're sure to find a nice place for lunch.

Just now I got an email from Frank Keating and he and two siblings will be visiting the weekend of Feb 24th. Yay! I get to host somebody. Frank was a wonderful host and tour guide when Janet and I toured Ireland in 2015.

Genealogy alert:

I refer to a lot of ggg grandparents. You have two sets of grandparents, four sets of great grands,  eight sets of great great grands and sixteen sets of three greats. I know all of the great greats' names and where they are from, at least their country. I also know most of the names of the triple greats and that's about as far back as I can get on almost any line. I have the names of the gggg ones from Co. Laois - Fennell; and Kildare - Whelan; and from Tipperary - Loughnane and McGrath. I also have McGraths from Kilkenny - at least that is supposed to be where they come from.

I got all excited about nothing this evening. I took a break from working on a family tree of the Abrahams (not actually my ancestors), to change counties and go west to Tipperary. A ggg grandmother was Bridget Loughnane, daughter of John Loughnane and Bridget McGrath from Cabragh, a townland in Tipperary. Or at least that's according to her marriage certificate for the wedding to Jean Baptiste Hebert in 1832 in Quebec. While looking for the baptism of Bridget Loughnane, in records from Thurles parish in Tipperary, I thought I'd found the parents of Michael McGrath.

These records are not indexed at all, and not alphabetized. They are images from microfilm which you can narrow down by either Baptism or Marriage and by year and month to start your search. They are not typed, of course, but hand-written. I think the writers took calligraphy lessons from doctors writing prescriptions. They use abbreviations, odd script, and seem not to care where they insert capital letters. Spelling is more or less phonetic - and not necessarily how I would pronounce them. My Canadian pronunciation interferes greatly with understanding.

The first word, in this particular parish's records, around 1810, was the name of the child being baptised. Looking for "Bridget" I also had to include Biddy, Brid and other possible abbreviations. The record lists the father's occupation after his name, followed by the mother's name and possibly their townland, then the sponsors and maybe their townlands.

Visually grazing through the records, I found a record which I thought named William McGrath and Mary Maher as parents. These are the names of the parents of my gg grandfather Michael McGrath. He was supposed to be from Kilkenny, but both McGrath and Maher are Tipperary names. Quickly I did a screen capture and saved it in Evernote. Then I had a closer look. What I thought was "Mary Maher" was actually the occupation of William. The second word is "Maker" not Maher, but exactly what sort of 'maker' is still in doubt. There were lots of others with this same occupation. Is it Bronye maker? Brony maker? Broxy maker? Boory maker? nothing makes sense. This is what I took at first to be 'Mary Maher'. Rats!! The mother's name turned out to be Bridge Leany. If you are a hand-writing expert please contact me and I'll send the record for your amusement and opinion.

So, on I trolled, once again concentrating on the name Bridget. No sign has been found of her family although I do occasionally find the Loughnane name. I've never found them in records for Cabragh or Cabra. Rats! I will continue to scan the pages until I've covered several years before and after the year of her supposed birth. She moved to Quebec - alone or with her parents is unknown - and married in 1832. She died in 1835 at the age of 22. That would mean her birth was in 1813, maybe. When did she immigrate? The early censuses in Canada East (Quebec) are of heads of household. No Loughnanes - or any name starting with 'Lou' - to be found in 1825.

So, I'll get back to the Abraham's for a bit and then call it a day. I have a reason to be up and about early-ish tomorrow. I'm looking forward to seeing more of the country. Who knows what route the GPS will lead us on and where we might end up.

Meanwhile back in the deep freeze

It's cold here. I have lots of warm coats in Ottawa - but none of them here in Ireland. How stupid to have underestimated how chilly it could get. Tomorrow a little shopping trip is the plan - to find a warm coat and some mitts. Or, a pair of knitting needles, some wool and some roving to make some thrummed mittens.

The cottage is cosy although at the moment the laundry drying on the radiators and the drying rack is not adding any sort of atmosphere to the place. The washer is pretty good at cleaning but the spin cycle is not great. My washer at home almost spins things dry. Not so here. Two days indoors in a warmish room is needed for cotton turtleneck shirts - the mainstay of my wardrobe. Ah well, it humidifies the cottage.

I stopped in Athy after picking up my latest rental car yesterday. I had a nice long chat and info share with Clem Roche, a local genealogist. I can widen my search for the Fennells, having learned more about the townlands they might have inhabited. There were Fennells who were Quakers but I'm about 99% sure there is no connection. Their descendants still live in the area and there's been no evidence of conversions. There are apparently still a few Fennell families in the general area of Athy, but I've yet to locate them. I will however, visit Burtown House, owned by Quaker Fennells, where they have a beautiful garden and nice cafe.

There is also a possibility of finding some related Whelans. Michael Fennell, my ggg grandfather, was married to Bridget Whelan who was from the town of Athy. The folks at the Athy heritage centre are going to see if perhaps there is a connection with some Whelan families still there - possibly on the same street. It's a bit of sit and wait on that count, but I have lots to sort through in the meantime.

Back to the car. It's a Skoda Citgo - a not-very-lovely car. It's an automatic but thinks it's a jerky little manual. No pickup at all and it jerks when it switches gears. It's small and has a trunk that fits only my carry-on suitcase. I'm going to look into changing it. There is apparently a Hertz outlet in Wexford town so I might make a dual trip for research as well as 'car business' next week. Hopefully I will be wearing a new warmer coat and mitts.

The internet connection is only slightly more available than before I left, despite the provider saying the problem was fixed. It has been up and down all day, with a few hours consecutively. However, it seems that if I find something worth pursuing, the new website is not available because the connection has been lost. I might look into getting a portable wifi hotspot to supplement the service here.

So, tomorrow's program involves a little shopping trip. Not sure it's worth the drive to Kildare to the outlet mall. I don't need a name brand. It's more likely I'll to to Tullow or Gorey - opposite directions. I might flip a coin to decide which way to head out.

I still have not figured out how to get the pictures off my little phone and onto Dropbox. Of course I need a good connection to make it happen. One of these days I hope to surprise my loyal readers with photos from Leeds.

Just watched a tv show about the island of Inishbofin off the Atlantic Coast. There are lots of "flattish" walking trails and a vibrant traditional Irish music scene. I'll have to add it to the Irish bucket list. Given that it's on the west coast I'll wait a bit before planning an excursion. It's cold enough here, I'm not going off the coast until it's warmer.

Nothing else to report.

Back in Eire

England was great - especially my weekend with the Burgess family. Didn't find out much at the Archives although I will review my photos and notes. Walking to the train station today, on the bench where I found the frozen jeans a couple of days ago, I noticed the bench was quite occupied. There were three people sitting on it and one standing in front. They seemed a bit uneasy at my approach. I wasn't exactly approaching the bench, it just happened to be there on the path I was taking into town.

Seems that it is a branch office of a clinic. A drug clinic. More specifically an illegal drug clinic. The three "occupants" were shooting up. I just wandered on by and as they were quite busy with their activities, they just ignored me. Whew!

I tried to get a closer picture of the "curling rocks" or "tea kettles" - not sure how well it came out. Then the phone, which is my camera, shut down. Out of juice. I'd had it plugged in all night, but when will I learn to turn on the switch beside the outlet. Arrrggghhh. Fortunately I'd left on the switch on the outlet the laptop was using to juice up.

In the train station I was in the ticket purchase lineup when a young woman asked if I'd like a ticket at a discount. The advertised price online was about 17 pounds (I have no symbol for Euros or Pounds on this keyboard) and I got this one for 10. She had purchased the wrong ticket and was unable to exchange it.

So, off I went to Leeds. It was a pretty quick trip. All along the route I noticed something that in fact I'd been noticing all week in Sheffield. There's a sort of black haze over almost everything. The older buildings are tinged with black stuff that I think was soot. It even seemed like the trees were too black. This is - I think - the Midlands, where coal and industry from back in the 19th century, was predominant. It certainly left its mark.

When I got to Leeds it was far too early to go to the airport so I decided to check my bag at the Left Luggage office and wander around town. No camera. The entire batch of batteries I'd bought was no good so using the camera was out of the question. My phone was dead. Aha - my little Irish phone. I've got to update the minutes on it tomorrow, but in the meantime the camera works.

Leeds is eye candy to anyone who appreciates the old architecture - many colours, many details, all interesting. I found my way to the (I think) Kingsgate Market. It's a huge interesting structure that has been added to over the years. There is also an outdoor portion, rather like a flea market. Inside there is a fish market, meat market, and all sorts of businesses - flower shops, a Marks and Spencer, bakeries, clothing, fabrics and general flotsam and jetsam. Then I walked back outside and into The Core - another shopping area. It's all a combo of the old and the new. They have everything from an 18th century pub that is still open to the latest in designer shops. My little phone stayed heated up from all the pictures I took. Can't wait to see them larger than a couple of inches square.

Only one problem, I'm not sure how to upload pictures from it to Dropbox. I have only ever used it for calls and texts. I can charge it with a USB cable plugged into the laptop. However, I can't use the cable to transfer photos. For reasons unknown, the Android converter app on the Mac doesn't like pictures from the phone.

So when I get back to Bunclody I'll find a ten year old and hopefully get it all set up.

Disembarking at Terminal 2 upon arrival from Leeds, I wondered what the immigration officer would ask regarding the 90 day visit, which is actually 100 days. He simply said, "you've been here before". I replied "Yes" and he said "enjoy your stay". So I beetled on out of there and assume that I'm fine to stay until April 13th. Ta-da.

I had decided to stay in Dublin overnight and had pre-booked and paid for a room at the Maldron Hotel. They have a shuttle service from the airport. So, upon exiting the terminal I asked a security guard where I'd find the shuttle to the Maldron. He told me area 16 so off I trundled. It was quite a long walk. No sign of the Maldron bus. I had managed to charge the phone part way at Leeds airport so made a call to the hotel. Their bus stop is just outside the entrance to the terminal. About 100 feet from where I asked directions. So, back I went. Got my steps in today for sure.

The bus showed up as promised and I had a nice chat with the driver, Donald, as I was the lone passenger. He even carried my suitcase up the steps, whereas I would have used the ramp and not been upset about it. He suggested a nice cup of tea to warm me up. Once checked in I settled for a nice hot meal instead. Lamb shank - delicious.

Now I'm settled into a very nice room and will shortly turn out the lights. I've started reading the book I bought at the Quarry Bank cotton mill - How to be a Victorian. It's delightful - well written, informative and even funny. Would I like to be a Victorian - NO! However it does put context around the lives of my English great and great great grandparents. I'll read a bit before drifting off.

So, when I figure out the camera upload thing I'll post pics.

I wonder what make and model of rental car I'll get tomorrow when I go to Hertz again for round 2.