No more all day sunshine

Well the weather has become somewhat more typical - just in time for the rush of lamb arrivals - but not cold. It's a bit more grey and a bit more misty but far from being rainy. And most days the sun makes the briefest of appearances.

I have managed to wander among a few more byways and always admire the endless vistas of green hills and hedgerows. I never tire of the fabulous scenery. Now that my time is drawing to a close, I'm trying to take as many little side trips as I can.

So let me think, what has transpired since my last epistle? Ah yes - the graveyard to which I have no connection!

Tom Farrell has been busy with the chain saw in the old Linkardstown graveyard. It is located on property adjacent to his. His merry band of history enthusiasts have spent countless hours unearthing the headstones and table-stone monuments in the very old graveyard. I was invited on a tour so I packed up the wellies and some heavy socks and off I went.

We drove to the Dowlings yard to save a bit of a walk, and having greeted John and told him our purpose for the day, we set out. Well, after we traded sneakers for rubber boots (the famous wellies) we set out from the yard, enclosed almost entirely with sturdy stone buildings dating from the late 18th century. I believe their initial purpose was to serve as stables. Apparently the buildings to house animals were constructed of the finest stone and built to last. That aim was achieved. Roofs have been replaced but the walls are original. Houses, however, were thrown up from whatever rocks were lying about and could be stuck together. That's a bit of an exaggeration but not much. Why stables survived and houses have not, has now been explained.

We walked across tilled and seeded fields, now with about 6 inches of new growth. I thought it was some sort of grass - farmer, I am not. Tom suggested it was likely barley or oats. Stomping along the tractor marks in our gumboots we had stunning views of the Blackstairs Mountains in one direction and a row of lower hills in the other. There was a bit of a plain between them. All of these various hills and mountains create micro-climates, resulting in the "if you don't like it wait 5 minutes" weather that one experiences here. The south-east of Ireland is the driest part. Question to self: so why is it you are planning a trip to the wettest part in a couple of weeks? The raincoat has proven its worth, no need to put it to the ultimate test.

Anyway, after crossing from one field to another I looked around and saw what I thought at first was the ruin of a house surrounded by a stone fence. Nope - it was our destination. The graveyard wall is more or less intact and the ruin I first saw is what's left of the church or chapel that once served the area. Not much remains, but man-made stone formations indicated that it was once of a pretty good size. As I'd heard recently, the graveyard itself was quite a lot higher than the area outside the stone walls. The reason is that the ground is very hard, possibly full of granite rock, so graves cannot be dug too deep. The coffin is put into the ground as low as can be dug and then sod and dirt is piled on top. Over the years - in this case about 250 years - the ground rises up to meet you.

If you are not careful where you walk, your face may go quickly down, to meet the ground coming up at you. The clean up crew did a fantastic job of sawing away the old trees and shrubs and nettles and what-all, to reveal many headstones. Although the inscriptions are difficult to read, they had all been transcribed long ago by Ronnie Shorten, who once lived on, or near, the property. The wood is very much inclined to keep growing and a multitude of shoots are threatening to undo all the work. Pretty soon the weed-killer will be brought in to stop further regrowth.

Then begins the task of photographing all of the headstones and making the photos and inscriptions available on historicgraves.com. I'm certain that once this has been completed, some genealogist is going to hear the sound of a brick wall falling. I certainly hope so.

By the end of our visit, the sun was in the process of heading elsewhere. If you happen to see it, we'd be pleased to have it back. It's now been a few days.

Friday of course was St Paddy's Day and I joined the Byrne crew in Carnew for the parade. I picked up Kathy Doyle and we went to Jim Byrne's pub for a hot cuppa, as it was definitely weather calling for hot beverages and roaring fires. The fire warmed but didn't exactly roar. Mairead and her children were there, nicely face-painted in the national colours, and enjoyed a few usually-forbidden treats. The first of which was being allowed in the pub for this annual visit.

The parade itself featured the Aughrim marching band for openers, followed by a number of floats, groups of local sports clubs, reps of the local drama society, antique tractors and a few older autos.

Thereafter, Kathy and I adjourned to another pub for lunch. It seemed too early to call it a day so Kathy became the navigator du jour. We went to Annacurra via Tomacork - it's all about the route with the best views.

church at Tomacork

After paying respects to Kathy's husband and son in the cemetery, we drove up the steep hill for a different route home. I wish I could remember the names of the places we passed. Well worth the detour - especially the parts around Kilcavin.

Today I arranged with Marg, now released from the nun's habit as worn in the parade, for her company on Monday, when I drive to Wexford to renew the car rental. She suggested a few Wexford highlights that we will visit to fill out that day. One place I'd like to go is Vinegar Hill - very important in the 1798 Rebellion.

OK - a bit of educating Ann is required. Off I drove to the 1798 Rebellion Centre to learn the story. Well I really should pay more attention to details on the websites I find. It was closed, but having already driven to Enniscorthy and decided that the castle was on too busy a street and too steep a hill to go back there, I checked the route to Kiltealy and I was underway again.

The drive was beautiful - again because of the long views, that were this time obscured by very low clouds. It was like driving close to heaven. Photos just don't do it justice. I took a few roads less travelled, snapped a few pictures, and headed for Clohamon. This is a village very near Bunclody, but it has a beautiful 5 arch stone bridge that reminds me of the one in Pakenham at home. It is also home to three of the most magnificent Magnolia trees I've ever seen. Picture time again.

The Mall on main street Bunclody - on my daily walk

I spent quite a bit of time chatting on FB messenger with Jake this evening - a young Fitzpatrick connection - and have a few new ideas of searching for our elusive Patrick. That brick wall is just getting higher. Should it ever fall, the torrent of information could be amazing.

That pretty much brings you up to date on my doings. I'll dig around for some pictures to stuff between the paragraphs.

Tomorrow I'm off to Thurles in Tipperary, en route to Cabragh whence came our Loughnane ancestors. They are all lurking somewhere around there - I hope. It is also very close to Holy Cross monastery on the Ireland's Ancient East list of places to see - so we shall also see that while we're in the neighbourhood. Kathy D is once more joining me as she has never been there - so a first for both of us.
Details to follow.