A destination to explore and an experiment along my personal "road not taken" in 2008

The destination in the title was the Yew Tree Graveyard. Inspired by a conversation at Egan's Pub, with the folks pictured here, I decided to explore a place I'd bypassed time and again.

The Bradburys are Kehoe/Keogh descendants
 and possibly very distant relatives

I'd seen the brown sign, indicating a place of historical importance, on every trip to Ireland. It's right near Minmore Mews where I usually stay, and my previous thought was "so what?" Then on one of my recent trips to and from Bunclody or Carnew, I saw the same sign, pointing the other direction. I was passing both ends of a road I'd never travelled, so why not take that road?

The day began with a vigil, hovering over my keyboard, waiting for the message to check in for my flight from Dublin to Toronto tomorrow. There are 4 unsold seats, and 4 standby passengers. So far so good. If the unsold number remains the same, we'll all be airborne together. Finally, I got the email and immediately completed the procedure. Now it's a matter of crossed fingers and timely arrival at the airport.

So what about the rest of the day? Time to get out to visit that ancient graveyard. And so I did. No messing about with directions, I knew how to get there, but would it be obvious from the road when I got there? Yep.

Just beside this fence is the entrance, secured by a chain looped around a gate and fastened with a carabiner. Undoing it was a simple matter and I set off. In retrospect, I could have driven through the gate, up to the actual site and there was room to do a 25-point turn to get out. But I parked in a kind of clearing near the road and walked. It was an easy stroll, not much up and down.

Beside the road was a field where there was a great crop of, um, something green. I'll check that out later. And in the midst of all that green, was a clump of coral poppies. Unexpected and very pretty.

Eventually, well maybe half a kilometre later, I arrived at the entrance of the graveyard itself. Apparently, some families still own the rights to be buried there, but I saw no modern personalized headstones.

Here it is, complete with a "kissing" gate

Each of those stones marks a grave. The cemetery is very old.
From what I've read, there are no ancestors of mine interred there.

Once I'd wandered enough, I returned to the car and set out in the same direction to get to the end of the road nearest Minmore. Then I decided to drive along a road I'd been on once before, but only for a few hundred metres. I'd have to drive much farther to really explore it, and I did. 

I was pretty sure I knew where I'd end up and I DID. Along the way I pulled over, on the off chance that there would be another car, and took some pictures.

Two roads diverged in a yellow wood
OK, you can't see the yellow here but it was all around

And here's a closer look at the sign so you'll know precisely where I was:

There were no hikers along the Wicklow Way at the time
and you probably recognize some places I've named in the past week

The road was pretty much like this all the way
And I arrived in Shillelagh, eventually, despite going
in the opposite direction from the above sign.

This was the same road that Dad and I didn't take when we were searching for Coolruss in 2008. And what a blessing that decision was.

As the adventure-du-jour was over, I came back to the cottage and enjoyed a glass of Merlot followed by a wee nap. It will soon be time to pack. I didn't bring much so it should take about 15 minutes, if I don't rush.

I'll be heading out at zero dark thirty, to the airport. I'll make a sandwich this evening to bring along as it will be too early to eat. 

I expect my wrap-up post may be delayed until late Monday, since my arrival in Ottawa will be after midnight. The first thing I plan to do is go to bed. For me it will be after 5 am, having been on the go for 24 hours. 

A little late this time

Yesterday, Caroline B. came over for lunch and a good chat and a wee bit of family history talk thrown in. Then it was off to the Rocktavern to catch up with the next generations of Byrnes and Parsons. Everyone is in good form and most are very busy – the parents for chauffeur services and kids for gymnastics and a variety of sports.

Mary Harte was chipper after a journey to Dublin to check on a problem with her eyes. All is well and apparently she has almost 20/20 vision at the tender age of 99. As far as anyone knows, she is not taking medication for any conditions, which puts her miles ahead of most. For possibly the only time in all my visits with her, she had already eaten and I was not the recipient of an extra dinner. I'd had supper at the Rocktavern. And tasty it was, as usual.

I have not turned on the tv here at all so I have no idea how well it works. The wifi has been spotty at times but it came through in spades today. When I got the message to Check in for my flight home tomorrow I was "on the case" that very second. I've completed the process and hope that I was the first standby passenger to do so. 

Last update was that four seats remained unsold on the flight and there are four standby passengers. First one to check in gets the first seat, etc. I won't know until I'm at the airport tomorrow whether or not I'll be on the flight to Toronto. That is the ideal scenario.

Should I not be fortunate enough, I might find a seat on the flight to Calgary which departs not long afterwards. I believe there are ample seats unsold, but the route will be rather long. I'd fly from Dublin to Calgary, waving at Ottawa as we fly overhead. After a bit of a wait I would connect to a flight from there to Ottawa. Back and forth across the country. Or rather, forth and then back perhaps.

No matter which flight I'm on, arrival in Ottawa should be shortly after midnight, local time. That would be after 5 am for me. Happily, a very kind and loyal friend who is of the night owl persuasion, has offered to collect me at the airport.

I won't know the final route until boarding time. It's a bit stressful, but I have no commitments on Monday at home and will be able to crash for as long as needed.

Tomorrow will begin early as I have at least a 90-minute drive to Dublin airport. First stop will be to fill up the gas tank on the rental car before returning it for the use of the next client. Then it'll be the shuttle to the terminal and checking in with WestJet. Fingers crossed that my quick check in and hopefully first arrival at the counter will get me a (middle) seat on that plane. If all goes well I'll have time to stock up on Butlers or Lillies chocolate at the airport.

It's off to the Yew Tree graveyard shortly. It's a very old cemetery and not far from here. I've passed the signs so many times over my visits here that I've lost count. That will be my outing du jour. There will be a final trip to Coolruss to find a home for any uneaten provisions and say a final farewell.

There might be a post later, but I'm making no promises. Tomorrow's report will be delayed due to travel, no matter which route gets me home.

A beautiful journey

Today's adventure was on the road from Clonegall to Castlecomer. I let Google lead the way and indeed it did a masterful job. What I hadn't expected was that the drive would be through such beautiful territory. The fall colours are not as vibrant as Canada's but there are plenty of changes in the foliage to mark the season. Along one particularly long and winding road, the view through a few clearings was over a flat stretch of the midlands far below me. The sun was shining but I only caught glimpses of the view. There was no place to pull over and take it all in. I allowed myself a fleeting side eye peek and had to store it in the memory bank.

Along the way I turned down the opportunity to visit the graves of Walt Disney's ancestors. I'm sure it would have been, um, extraordinarily similar to visitng the graves of anyone's ancestors. Perhaps one day I'll be consumed with regret, but that day was not today. If I find out the headstones have Mickey Mouse ears I might regret not stopping.

I found the Castlecomer library easily enough. Parallel parking to access the library was a tad trickier. Although driving a manual transmission is not an issue, it does add an extra element of "don't stall now" to parallel parking.

The very helpful librarian brought me the most useful books on local history and I was permitted to photographs as many pages as I wanted to. And I did. The atmosphere was anything but quiet as the local knitting club had assembled in the library. No shushing was possible - their volume was certainly tuned to max. 

I think I found everything I could in the couple of hours I spent there before heading out for lunch and the planned visit in the afternoon. Deciding whether to leave the car and walk, or move it closer to my afternoon destination was made easy by the fact that it was pretty chilly. I moved it and found a space a few feet from the front door I'd knock at a little later.

Catherine Comerford was a true delight. She was very welcoming and certainly knows her local history. She didn't have great breakthrough information for me, but knew someone who might know someone else and made a call. The original source she was thinking of didn't work out, but two more potentials came out of that phone call. I left my contact information and hope to hear something some day soon. 

I purposely left part of my head out of the photo because today was not a good hair day. I'm in desperate need of a trim. I certainly hope that Angela is available soon after I get home.

Anyway, I left Castlecomer wishing that Google didn't start with "head east." How am I supposed to know which way is East? I don't even know which direction I'm facing at home. For once, I headed in the right direction! Yay for me.

I followed the same route home and got here in time for a ham sandwich before heading to Egan's Pub. There I met a Kehoe/Keogh family that just might be distantly related to mine. We'll probably never know but they were very friendly Canadians from Toronto. Later we were joined by some of their local relatives and had a great time.

This was the second day I travelled on a new route and I didn't get lost. By now they are doing triple toe loops in hell on that nicely frozen rink. I wonder, do they have a Zamboni?

Back at the cottage now, it's getting late and the old eyelids are drooping once again. A friend is going to join me for lunch tomorrow and I'll pop over to see Mary Harte once more. She's promised to sing another traditional folk song for me. 

Prospects for returning on Sunday are getting iffy. There are 4 unsold seats and 4 people on standby. First to check-in when the 24-hour reminder appears, will get the first seat. I'm not a nail-biter but this could make me wish I were. I really won't know until after I've returned the rental car and appeared at the gate. 

That's today in a nutshell. Who knows what tomorrow has in store.

Some photos of the frivolity

I'm just finishing up the last scone for breakfast. Yum. The kitchen has been cleaned up but I'll postpone emptying the dishwasher until my return from the metropolis of Castlecomer in the north of Co. Kilkenny. 

There's a book I want to consult and it's available in the reference section of their library. It's out of print and I have a friendly offer to copy any pages I want. Should I decide that I want to add it to my book collection, I'll have to post a notice on a used book site. The price is north of $150 so I'm hoping it's not so full of good information that I go down that road.

Here are the promised photos from last night.

Three Marys in the picture

A little discussion of history is underway

A pair of Anns and a Kathy

And a few from the yard outside

Happily, this is not where I get my water

My shiny Audi with all its bells and whistles, parked in the yard

My current abode

And now it's time to hit the road to Castlecomer. I'm thanking Google in advance for directions that don't take me on every little byway and boreen. Fingers crossed.

Great day from start to finish

I took a new route to Bunclody, having guessed the direction I should go. And for once in my direction-confused life, I didn't get lost. The route was correct. And it saved me time. And, get this, I came back on different roads and ended up at this cottage. They must be skating in hell because would not happen before hell froze over.

I shopped for this evening's gathering and not wanting anyone to go hungry, I rather overdid it. The leftovers will more than last me for the days I have left. Good thing I like ham sandwiches. My landlord here even came over with a bottle of wine and a tray of the lightest fluffiest scones I've ever tasted, complete with whipped cream, butter and jam. He stayed and chatted for a while and then went off to his set dancing class.

Kathleen brought me half a dozen fresh eggs from their hens for breakfast.

Photos were taken this evening and I won't be able to post them for a bit. The wifi signal seems to have gone to sleep or at least is too weak to transfer photos. Maybe I'll have a good enough signal in the morning to post them. 

Mary Harte, our 99 year old matriarch, who's become almost a hermit, came too. And towards the end of the evening she sang us three old traditional Irish folk songs. There's little doubt in my mind that she will still be motoring along on her 100th birthday in April. She was the liveliest of the bunch when they were leaving. She seemed reluctant to get in her niece's car.

Tomorrow I'm off to Castlecomer to visit the library and to visit with a woman who is a local historian who can possibly shed some light on my Kilkenny ancestral families. It would be amazing to find more connections but I've come to expect that sort of good luck here. Must be the shamrocks.

So - a short post today and I'm heading for bed. It's nearly midnight and my eyes are at half mast.

Back online

I don't know what the solution was, but I'm once again enjoying wifi without constantly losing the signal. However, while out for dinner this evening at the Lees' home, I got a message that the problem was fixed. Great rejoicing was seen in the townland. Well, OK, just me but you get the picture.

So - what have I been up to? Well, a very successful, if late, lunch with three good friends I met in 2013. Lynne, Margaret and Anne all made it here eventually yesterday (Monday). This is a beautiful location, on a reasonably good road, with no sign at the entry making sure that almost everyone drives by a few times before figuring "this is it." Maybe I should have tied a yellow ribbon round the old oak tree. But, there is no oak tree at the entry. I thought I had been smart to say it's just about opposite the two orange traffic cones – and then someone went and moved the cones back off the road. 

We had a great catch up since our last gathering and learned of some new plans. Anne will be moving to Sligo, so that's another destination for the future. We are all involved even in small measure, in family history. No royalty in our genes though. They are all very busy women and we managed to find a day that worked for all.

I took a few photos around the entry and yard here. 

Turn right here if coming from Clonegall.
See the orange cones? They were moved a few minutes later thus removing my marker.

The entry, a left turn when coming from Parkbridge.
A nice addition might be a sign, but there are three properties off this lane.

I had to type over the words "add caption" that wouldn't disappear. So, hello.

Just to prove that we had bright sun - that's Raheengraney House

The view when I'm about to be on the road again

And this is my living room cum dining room cum kitchen. Not too shabby for a former barn.

Today I spent most of the time loafing around. I was going to shop for tomorrow's family gathering here, but decided to leave it until tomorrow morning. The food will be fresher. Does that sound like a reasonable excuse for sloth?

Without wifi I was in deep withdrawal when I got up. I mentally crawled out of that to realize that I could use my phone as a hot spot. So I did. It's not like I haven't done it many times before, I just never thought of it. I used 1GB of data this morning alone and had only used 2.5 in the past 10 days so I was delighted that the service has been restored.

As an aside, while driving back to my base yesterday from Bunclody, I had to stop for construction. When the view is this good it's not a hardship to pause. And the red light counts down so you know how long it will take. And just look at that blue sky!!!

So, what was that trip to Bunclody all about. The battery in the fob for the car was running low and I was getting nervous about how to use the "key" if the battery died. Two people (Jim and, um, someone else that I forget) told me about this chap who had a shop beside the Applegreen gas/petrol station. Bingo - done and dusted. I forgot to get a receipt but it was only €4, so I won't be out much as I can't get reimbursed without a receipt. Then it was off to Aldi for a couple of things for lunch with the girls. Naturally, the six shopping bags were sitting on the bench at my front door. Ah well, no use breaking all my Canadian habits. And, for the only time, I did NOT buy any of my favourite chocolate at Aldi. But I'll be back there before leaving for home.

Genealogy alert: 

Dinner with Eleanor and Kevin Lee was lovely, and so was Eleanor's Guinness Beef Stew. So yummy. Then we got into the history stuff. Keven emailed me (from across the room) a map and information about Arthur and the small plots of land he leased in 1842. And provided contact info for the descendant of the next door neighbour of Arthur Byrne in Augusta township. One thing leads to another ... 

It seems that despite having spent a few days at the Archives of the Fitzwilliam Estate in Sheffield, England a few years ago, I did miss some documents. It might be worth contacting them again and paying for someone knowledgeable to check them out again. I have an "orphan" page of information - don't know the source other than it came from Sheffield according to Kevin, who gave it to me a couple of years ago. The image is missing a piece of information pertaining to Arthur. Wouldn't you just know the part to be cut off would be of interest. Kind of like realizing that the information you are seeking is lost in that "gap in the records."

And that caps it off for today. 

No wifi

 Hello faithful readers

The wifi connection from the main house to this cottage must have been damaged in the storm and I have to run the laptop off my phone, which will eat up data. So, I'll save my posts until I'm once again on real wifi.

I'll try to find a location today to login.

Ann

Off to meet another Byrne connection

Mostly genealogy-related. You have been warned.

This afternoon Jim and I drove to Ashdown Park Hotel in Gorey, Co. Wexford, to meet with Brendan Byrne. He is a close Y-DNA match to Jim and to my brother Tom. The connection is too distant to discover with autosomal DNA.

It was a great meeting, with Jim and Brendan sharing stories that they had heard, about where their Byrne ancestors were from. Nothing really seemed to match. The problem with Y-DNA is that it doesn't change much down the generations. So it's hard to pinpoint the relationships. We're going to have a look at each other's trees and continue to dig to see what might be uncovered. Finding records before 1800 requires a great deal of luck.

The photo of the three of us just won't load, so just picture three incredibly good-looking humans in this space.

En route to Gorey, we encountered literally hundreds of cars, some even vintage, heading from Enniscorthy to unknown parts. It was a rally of some sort for fundraising. That's all I managed to retain from the explanation. 

Coming back, we were on the final bit of road near Coolruss. This is a VERY narrow road with barely room to pass. Happily, we were at one of the few places where it was wide enough for one car to pull to the side. Jim did so quickly as a large black sedan came roaring at us at a speed much too fast for the conditions. He sped by and didn't even stop. We paused for a bit before finishing the journey. There was no time to get the registration or even notice what make of car it was. I usually drive that area in second gear because it's twisty and did I mention VERY NARROW? It ended happily with not even a scratch and we won't dwell on what might have been.

Once again I was invited to dinner and enjoyed every mouthful - as usual. The apple crumble made for a very tasty ending. 

Back at my cottage I put a load of laundry in the washer and tried to get on the internet. Nothing worked, so I went back to Coolruss to get a signal and answer some emails.

I'm staying here at the Lodge at Raheengraney House, until Oct 12 and then will head directly to Dublin airport, drop the car and hope against hope that I'm able to get a seat on the flight home. I've let my WestJet fairy godmother look after bookings. All fingers and toes crossed. 

And now, those missing pictures from yesterday

Be warned - this post is all about genealogy - just sign off now. I won't be offended. In fact, I won't even know if you got this far.

Athy was on the program and the 45 minute drive was uneventful. Finding parking was a challenge. Eventually I found a spot, and after some wriggling back and forth, I was parked and set out for Emily Square mere metres away. I was met with this sight.

There I met Keith Langton, and over lunch at the Town Cafe, we discussed Fennell and Whelan contacts. We were soon to meet Ger Gibson, whose maternal line were Whelans, blacksmiths in Barrowhouse. And those Whelans are potentially my Whelans too. 

We drove to Barrowhouse and St Mary's church and graveyard where we met John Langton and Ger Gibson. Here's Ger by the churchyard gate, made by his ancestor - one of the Whelan blacksmiths.

In the graveyard we visited a Fennell grave that was quite modern when compared to those around it. I'd seen it and photographed it in 2017, and was grateful for the information inscribed thereon. But I never paid attention to the grave immediately beside it. A large table tomb had a difficult-to-read inscription that we finally decoded. 

This tomb was erected by Nicholas Fennell of Mount Brook,
in memory of his mother Elizabeth Fennell, 
who died Dec. ??? 1831 or maybe 1861, aged 67 years.

Now at first when we had only made out Nicholas Fennell and 1831 I thought we'd found the grave of my 4x great grandfather. But we continued to read and now there's another puzzle. Mount Brook is the right location for our Fennells. But was Nicholas the grandson of the other Nicholas and was Elizabeth Fennell her maiden or married name? Solving this is my next project.

Just a few steps away, Keith noted a headstone for Daniel J. Whelan and the dates indicate that he could have been the brother of Bridget Whelan Fennell. There was a Daniel Whelan as witness at her wedding. Add that to the todo list as well.

Then we headed to the ruins of the Fennell house, that I had visited in 2017, when led there by Keith's uncle Noel Burke. Almost blown away in the wind, and electrocuted by the wire fence, we persisted and hung around a bit.

The doorway was low and wide and an almost invisible electric wire
keeps you from getting any closer. 

Keith (on right) and John inspect the Fennell table tomb

This is Daniel Whelan's headstone - sadly unreadable in this photo

The next post is the saga of Sunday.

Almost blown away

Storm Amy raged across the west of Ireland leaving flooding and destruction in its wake. Happily for those of us living or visiting the southeast, there was only heavy rain and high winds. I haven't heard of any damage and driving today from Bunclody to Athy, there was no sign of aftereffects. It was windy though, especially when driving through areas of highway not protected by trees.

I had all my gear in the car, as I'd moved once again. I spent last night in a cosy hotel in Bunclody - Clody Lodge. At first I thought itmight be a Harry Potter experience. The sign on the front of the building clearly says Clody Lodge. But the two doors on the street were not entries to the hotel. Instead I investigated a narrow alley just to the left and spotted a nicely detailed entrance to the hotel. I didn't see the number 9 3/4 though.

There were instructions on how to get in if the reception desk was not staffed. However, Charlie greeted me warmly, showed me how to come and go easily, and offered to help me to my room. I didn't have much baggage and easily managed by myself. I also figured out how to turn on the tv, and enjoyed the last half of an episode of Murder in Provence.

Wondering what the white remote controller in a holder on the wall might be for, it was easily apparent that it controlled the heating, which made the room cosy indeed. I slept in two shifts totalling about 8 hours of actual slumber and finally woke up at 9:22. Checkout time is 11. No time to waste.

The shower was lovely and the heated towel rack was a guilty pleasure. I didn't take the time to blow dry my hair because I spent too long trying to figure out how to insert the coffee pod into the coffee maker. Finally I had to summon Charlie and eventually had a great cup of caffeine to get me going. 

We chatted briefly before I left and found out that he has quite an accomplished family, one member of which has happily benefitted from some coincidences. They were not exactly of the same kind as lead me to my Byrnes, but ended just as well.

The weak battery in my car fob is still pulsing enough to open and start the car. Tick off one more day. I did find out how to open the fob to change the battery but will try to make a quick trip to the Audi dealer in Carlow to actually do it, maybe on Tuesday.

Genealogy Alert - you can tune out now if family history doesn't turn your crank.

And then the fun began. I had an uneventful drive to Athy and even managed to find a parking place. Bonus - free parking on Saturday. Shortly afterwards I met Keith and after a quick walk around the museum, featuring Ernest Shackleton. There was a huge investment in the project. In fact, the entire Emily Square is quite spiffed up from my last visit in 2017. We had lunch at the Town Cafe and chatted about the Fennells and Whelans who were my 3x and 4x great grandparents. They are still mostly still hiding in the Genealogy Protection Program, meaning pretty safe from discovery. But I'm on the case!

Following a chat in the cafe with one of the owners, we learned that the usual local historians were not in fact in the pub next door at the moment, so that avenue shut down. BUT, headed out in Keith's car in the direction of Barrowhouse. There was a short detour to Barrack Street where my Whelans lived at the time that Bridget was baptised. It is named for a British Barracks and some of the original walls still remain. What their connection was to those barracks is unknown. Were they the same Whelans found at Barrowhouse, interacting with my Fennells? The blacksmith's family? That remains to be determined.

Anyway, we headed to St Mary's church, built in 1831 and to its adjoining graveyard. There I saw for the second time, a Fennell headstone with lots of great information. But it wasn't new to me. What I had not realized on the 2017 visit, was that beside it was another Fennell tombstone of quite huge dimensions. It was erected by Nicholas Fennell in memory of his mother Elizabeth Fennell who died in, well, maybe 1831 or 1861. The carving of the date was kind of ambiguous. Nicholas Fennell was my 4x great grandfather and initially I thought he was the person whose name was carved there and I got quite excited but wondered why his wife's name was missing. Then when we noticed the name of Elizabeth and saw the dates, of course more questions were raised. "My" Nicholas had a grandson Nicholas but he was part of the family that emigrated and ended up in Brockville. So, given the dates, was he a son of Elizabeth Fennell, the daughter of my 4x great grandfather Nicholas? If so, was she a single mother? Or did she marry another Fennell? Add sorting that out to the todo list.

A little farther down was a headstone for a Daniel J. Whelan, potentially the brother of Bridget Whelan of Barrack St, my 3x great grandmother who married Mick Fennell. He was born in 1816 (tick the box as it fits) and died in 1906 (or thereabouts). His name crops up as a witness or sponsor in marriages and baptisms. 

Keith and I were joined by his uncle John and a gent named Ger Gibson, whose mother was a Whelan. We might be cousins and that would be fabulous. He recounted a lot of local history and the recorder in my brain only recalls some of it. He's also a musician of some repute. I have his phone number and will get in touch for an email address. 

We paid a short visit to the ruin of the Fennell home and Keith got quite a jolt after opening the gate. Literally a jolt. There was an electrified wire guarding the entrance. Yikes. We were able to disengage the wire and stayed away from the wire around the ruins of the house. 

All good things come to an end and we parted ways with Ger, and later John after a short drive around the area to see the old Whelan forge. Was that blacksmith one of my Whelans? Could be. 

Eventually, Keith drove me back to the parking spot in Athy and we said our good-byes and we'll stay in touch. If I can't find some information he mentioned that is online, he'll either find the link or will send me copies. 

The drive back to Co Wicklow was pleasant and was broken by a short stop at the Bunclody SuperValu to pick up more groceries. I think I have enough now to last the week. 

The challenge of finding my new digs meant a couple of trips past the gate. Finally using the Eircode, I was directed to the correct lane, and here I am.

It's now time for bed so I'll apologize for the lack of photos. I'll post them tomorrow.

A little late but nothing to report

Heavy rain and lots of wind - the story of the day. Here in the southeast there wasn't too much out of the ordinary where I drove. Horror stories are emerging from parts west and northwest. Devastating Storm Amy left her mark.

I checked out of Minmore Mews, had a brief visit to Coolruss, then lunch in Bunclody with friends and checked into the Clody Lodge. It was my lucky parking day. Two cars ahead of me on the street, a vehicle pulled out of a spot handy to the lodge, so I pulled in.

I'm hoping to pull out soon, but am a bit nervous. The battery in the fob that I use to open doors and start the vehicle, is running out of charge. I've emailed Budget but had no reply. There is a "key" and I've googled how to use it. Wish me luck. I am not returning to Dublin airport for a battery. I don't have any idea how to get it out of the fob in any case. And maybe it's not replaceable in a corner store anyway.

Genealogy alert:

I had a conversation with Keith yesterday evening, in preparation for our meeting this morning (I said I was late posting this) and spent considerable time online looking for Whelans. They must also have enrolled in the Genealogy Protection Program because they didn't pop out of the records at all. I might be meeting some of the Whelan descendants who just might be cousins, and fingers crossed that they have information.

After a good night's sleep - in two phases because I just can't sleep through in one go - I'm finishing my coffee and will hit the road. Making the coffee taxed my addled brain but Charlie at the front desk came to my rescue. The pods were here, the water reservoir was filled and I couldn't get the pod to sit nicely in place to make my brew. Charlie to the rescue. I had the right idea, almost, but wasn't sure how hard I needed to press to close the "lid." Even Charlie had to make some adjustments and he assured me that at least 50% of customers have the same issue. Suitably caffeinated, and all packed up, I'm about to consult Ms Google for directions to Athy.

It's a bit overcast with some sun promised for the afternoon. Then again, it's a bit hard to tell from my hotel room window. I have a complete view of the wall of the building beside this one with a glimpse of sky above. There is no rain falling right now. Ah well, the storm has passed and I don't expect any washouts on the road ahead.

Slan

Washout

Today was a washout. It's not that it was unproductive, it's that the rain persisted all day long and has intensified now that it's dark. You know how the sound of the rain helps you fall asleep? Imagine how hard it's been to stay awake all day. Well, to be honest there were short breaks. I guess the spout got blocked and then released off and on.

I made the planned phone call to Catherine in Castlecomer. She answered my call – from Galway. Ah, the magic of a mobile phone. Obviously, I didn't go to meet her. We're going to find a date next week. If I'm lucky some secrets from my Kilkenny ancestors might step into the light.

Instead of travelling, I spent much of the day verifying some previous research, accepting information I'd only considered possible in the past, and hoping (in vain) to find more online. And reading.

These photos from today should illustrate my words. There's really not much more to say. It's far too early to go to bed and it would be nice if the rain were to stop, but maybe it could continue when I'm trying to fall asleep. Just saying ...

No need to wash the car now

My view today during a break in the rain
I didn't put a foot out the door

Straight from the weather network this afternoon, but the weekend is looking good

Tomorrow I'm moving, for one day, to Clody Lodge in Bunclody before moving into my next cottage, about 3 kms from here on Saturday. I suppose I should start to pack up now although I don't really have much to pack. Perhaps I'll just wait until morning.

And in case you wonder where I've been staying, here is a picture. The skylight you see is just above and beside my bed and the sound of the rain will be my lullaby. The lower level window is the living room and the ground level one is above the kitchen sink. This picture is from the Minmore Mews website and certainly not taken today.

 

Golf at Coollattin - muddy underfoot but no rain

I had an opportunity not to be missed - a game of golf at Coollattin with three people that I didn't know but everyone told me were lovely folks. And they were absolutely right. Especially to put up with my horrible game. Maria had graciously lent me her clubs, bought with the idea of learning the game but as yet never used by her. 

The clubs were not at all like my own but the fault certainly didn't lie with the clubs. I did lack accessories so had to buy a hat, ball marker, divot repair tool and, oh yes, some golf balls. Mary E. lent me a glove. The good news is I still have all five balls that I bought. They were "previously loved" balls, in pristine condition. And I played with the same brand as I play with at home. None of this helped my game. But I had a great time. And yes, I returned the glove.

The course was rather muddy due to the heavy rain overnight and I didn't have a towel to clean the clubs or the ball. Was the accumulated mud sufficient to jinx my shots? I think not. One bonus was that when I finally sank a putt, the ball got washed in the base of the cup. 

Perhaps I was just distracted by the beautiful surroundings. More likely it was just one of those games. 

Hugh preparing to tee off - Coollattin House in the background

Don't be fooled into thinking this was flat - hills to the left and right of the photo
In this case the green was downhill all the way from the tee.
This was the flat part between hills

Kathleen and Anne - who could both drive the ball a mile

We followed the game with lunch in the clubhouse and interesting conversation. I settled for soup and brown bread because it was after 2 and I was going to Coolruss for dinner. The dinner was excellent. And a bonus was that Maria showed me where I was going wrong in making new Whatsapp connections.

Genealogy alert:

All sorts of good news awaited me in email and messages when I got "home." John O and I discussed potential Kehoe family members last night and after he did some online investigation on my behalf today, we are now pretty sure that we know that Eliza's brothers were Owen and Martin. And I'm pretty certain, given where they lived, that the Kehoe family now living in Corragh is the same family. Alas, despite having previously compared DNA results with this family, we seemed to have no match. But the common ancestor is too far back to show up in such a comparison anyway. More research and documentation will be applied in this direction.

And after an exchange of comments on FB and later in Messenger, with some helpful folks from Co. Kilkenny, I'm going to Castlecomer tomorrow to meet with a woman who might be able to shed some light on my McGrath, Maher, Brennan and Walsh ancestors. It will be fun anyway. And now to bed.