The morning was crisp and cool and sunny. The sky was almost cloudless. I drove to Knockbrandon to pick up Marg and Jane and we drove to Gorey.
There we attended a lovely remembrance service in the Church of Ireland. It was simple and beautiful. At the end of the service a monument was dedicated to those who gave their lives in WWI and in subsequent conflicts.
I had a lovely day but today should remain dedicated to the men and women who fought in WWI, which ended 100 years ago today. My grandfather and some grand uncles fought in that war. They all returned home unscathed, much more fortunate than so many tens of thousands of others. Nothing else that happened today really mattered. We will remember all of them and how much they gave so that we could be free.
Sunday, November 11, 2018
Friday, November 9, 2018
And so I went to Bagenalstown
Yesterday the light rain didn't stop me from setting out to Bagenalstown to the library. Nobody answered the phone when I called for information, so I decided to just drive over (30 mins) and check out their collection of local resources. So I did.
It took precisely no time to find the local resources. There aren't any. Everything is in Carlow library - except one large book on the history of Co Carlow. Drat. However, a chat with the librarian pointed me in the direction of the parish house where all church records are kept. My answers may lie there. The online registers are quite hard to read although I have gathered quite a lot of baptisms and the occasional marriage that could be the people I am seeking.
When I say "the librarian pointed me in the direction" it was loosely correct. I did walk to the corner, cross the street and walk up in the direction she indicated. As you gaze up the street (there's always a hill, even a little one), there is a solid row of attached buildings on both sides. I was to walk until I came to the second big house on the left - I couldn't miss it. Well, of course I could. I did find a house that had a sign "St Josephs" so I rang the bell. The parish church is St Andrews so this was a long shot. And wrong.
Around the corner of the house came a nice lady who informed me that was just the name of her house. She had recently moved and was grateful to St Joseph for prayers answered, so she named it in his honour. And then we chatted. Conversations always break out when you meet someone new here.
She was recently acquainted with long lost relatives so was sympathetic to my plight. She also pointed out that the directions I had received had missed a vital piece of information. After walking up the street I had to take the first street on the left, and then it would be the second big house on the left. Aha! When the librarian had said "It's on the left" she knew about that turn but that piece of information didn't quite make it into her directions. Perhaps when she emphasized it was 'on the left' she thought I might actually turn left at the next corner. But I didn't.
Ah well, I walked back, turned at the right place and found the rectory. Nobody answered the doorbell despite the sign saying they were open 9 to 5. It was 12:30. So I found a little cafe and had bowl of soup and brown bread, assuming they were out for lunch.
This time I used Google to find the phone number of the rectory and I called. It was now after 1. Of course, lunch is from 1 to 2. But the phone rang through to the priest who said that mere mortals like myself cannot access the records directly and then quoted some sort of law or statement of "the reasons". I do understand and would have been surprised actually to have been allowed to put my little paws on ancient records. The problem I believe, is that the records go right up to the present day and those are private. [Those are also of little interest to me. My folks left circa 1850. I'm looking for Walsh and McDonald families. Those names are still used in the area around Bagenalstown, including I'm told, in the townland of Bohermore which is my specific target.]
But - he said the administrator would do a search if I let her know what it was I was looking for. I would email her when I got home.
First though, a stop at Aldi to increase the supply of those lovely Aldi chocolate bars. More accurately, the boxes with individually wrapped portions that are in a box that looks like a chocolate bar. Friends are waiting for these samples at home. My local Aldi doesn't have as good a selection. Mission accomplished. Some varieties are still missing from the collection. Now I have a new mission - visit every Aldi shop I come across.
So, ready to head home, and setting the GPS for Moss Cottage I trusted it to get me out of town and on the right road. Silly - why should this time be different? We did start out on the right road and as soon as it looked familiar, I should have turned the thing off. Instead I let Bossy Pants (BP) tell me where to go. She did fine for a while. Sneaky devil.
Some intersections are not straight through. They involve a turn and then another immediate turn in the opposite direction. I'm used to that. When BP said turn left and then turn right, I did so. And that's what led to some amazing views on a lovely road I'd never travelled. I thought I knew where it was leading - it wasn't. Then it got narrower. And the centre line disappeared. The hedges got closer together, or seemed to.
When there is no longer a centre line, you just know that there will be oncoming traffic. Well not traffic exactly, as that implies a flow of vehicles. This is more like intermittent surprises coming at you. I have now determined, albeit not scientifically, that you will have to pass an oncoming car: a) at the narrowest part of the road surface which does vary depending on the geography; b) on a one lane stone bridge with limited visibility of what is coming at you; or c) on a curve. Fortunately, it was only cars and a small van yesterday. Tractors pulling all manner of 'accessories', and large trucks, use those roads too, but not where I was yesterday.
Anyway, despite the grey skies and frequent showers, the views were tremendous. The dash cam was safe and dry in Moss Cottage, not on the inside of the windshield. Next time!
I did get back to the N80 eventually and instead of returning directly to the cottage, I turned off BP and turned in the other direction for Tullow. At the Tesco I found the sort of socks I was looking for. The ladies crew socks I had bought at Aldi were too short and refused to stay up. I found some small size men's socks in navy, black and grey and very inexpensive - 5 prs to a pack. Perfect. I can attest this morning that they are exactly what I needed.
I had packed socks, only a few pairs, thinking I'd just wash them out in the evening. Silly me. Hand wash when there is a washing machine? I needed to increase the supply to meet my needs and have now done so - for the second time.
And there on another shelf was a nice bottle of Merlot with my name on it whispering to be picked up, so I am now providing a good, if temporary, home for it.
I dispatched an email to the lady at the parish and before long she had replied indicating she would be happy to help me if I sent what I had and what I'm looking for. Later I prepared a document of what I have, and a couple of screen images of records that might (or not) be the right folks.
Sending that bloody email was something else. My Mac mail app is intermittently friendly/unfriendly towards gmail accounts. I happily sent off the message last night and went to bed. Guess what - it was still in the unsent folder this morning. After several attempts and opening and closing the Mail app, my information finally left the Outbox and hopefully landed in Eleanor's Inbox.
And that's when I saw it! A mouse - scurrying along the wall behind my dining table, and then in and out around the stove and recycling bin. Arggghh. I don't care for mice - at all - ever - anywhere. I've searched the laundry area in the shed below and found no traps. I've now left a voice message for Mary and Brian to see if they have any traps on hand.
Don't go all mushy on me and say don't kill it. That mouse is doomed. I plan to make use of the cheese in the fridge in a way not thought of when purchased. Or maybe I'll use some peanut butter, but it's the natural kind and very runny, so probably the cheese is the better bait. Hopefully there will be multiple traps which I'll set downstairs as well. The little rodent is upstairs with me - not downstairs where he probably got in. Very soon this place will be full of traps. When I catch the prey, I hope Brian is prepared to dispose of it. That's not my strong suit.
Today it was quite clear when I got up around 7:30 but now at almost 9:30 and one cup of coffee later the forecast of rain and wind seems to be looming. No problem there - I have no plans to leave the nest. Of course, I'm not happy about sharing it with Mickey Mouse - or maybe Minnie - but I'll be vigilant and ready to leap onto a chair if need be.
Brian has just arrived with two traps, now ready for action upon the return of the wee mousie. He's also setting out a different solution in the bedrooms below, on the ground floor. They have to have gotten in down there and I never thought I'd see one here upstairs.
Now - to get on with today. The wind is picking up and the rain is not far off. An adventure is planned for Sunday. Details as things unfold, or rather, after they have unfolded.
It took precisely no time to find the local resources. There aren't any. Everything is in Carlow library - except one large book on the history of Co Carlow. Drat. However, a chat with the librarian pointed me in the direction of the parish house where all church records are kept. My answers may lie there. The online registers are quite hard to read although I have gathered quite a lot of baptisms and the occasional marriage that could be the people I am seeking.
When I say "the librarian pointed me in the direction" it was loosely correct. I did walk to the corner, cross the street and walk up in the direction she indicated. As you gaze up the street (there's always a hill, even a little one), there is a solid row of attached buildings on both sides. I was to walk until I came to the second big house on the left - I couldn't miss it. Well, of course I could. I did find a house that had a sign "St Josephs" so I rang the bell. The parish church is St Andrews so this was a long shot. And wrong.
Around the corner of the house came a nice lady who informed me that was just the name of her house. She had recently moved and was grateful to St Joseph for prayers answered, so she named it in his honour. And then we chatted. Conversations always break out when you meet someone new here.
She was recently acquainted with long lost relatives so was sympathetic to my plight. She also pointed out that the directions I had received had missed a vital piece of information. After walking up the street I had to take the first street on the left, and then it would be the second big house on the left. Aha! When the librarian had said "It's on the left" she knew about that turn but that piece of information didn't quite make it into her directions. Perhaps when she emphasized it was 'on the left' she thought I might actually turn left at the next corner. But I didn't.
Ah well, I walked back, turned at the right place and found the rectory. Nobody answered the doorbell despite the sign saying they were open 9 to 5. It was 12:30. So I found a little cafe and had bowl of soup and brown bread, assuming they were out for lunch.
This time I used Google to find the phone number of the rectory and I called. It was now after 1. Of course, lunch is from 1 to 2. But the phone rang through to the priest who said that mere mortals like myself cannot access the records directly and then quoted some sort of law or statement of "the reasons". I do understand and would have been surprised actually to have been allowed to put my little paws on ancient records. The problem I believe, is that the records go right up to the present day and those are private. [Those are also of little interest to me. My folks left circa 1850. I'm looking for Walsh and McDonald families. Those names are still used in the area around Bagenalstown, including I'm told, in the townland of Bohermore which is my specific target.]
But - he said the administrator would do a search if I let her know what it was I was looking for. I would email her when I got home.
First though, a stop at Aldi to increase the supply of those lovely Aldi chocolate bars. More accurately, the boxes with individually wrapped portions that are in a box that looks like a chocolate bar. Friends are waiting for these samples at home. My local Aldi doesn't have as good a selection. Mission accomplished. Some varieties are still missing from the collection. Now I have a new mission - visit every Aldi shop I come across.
So, ready to head home, and setting the GPS for Moss Cottage I trusted it to get me out of town and on the right road. Silly - why should this time be different? We did start out on the right road and as soon as it looked familiar, I should have turned the thing off. Instead I let Bossy Pants (BP) tell me where to go. She did fine for a while. Sneaky devil.
Some intersections are not straight through. They involve a turn and then another immediate turn in the opposite direction. I'm used to that. When BP said turn left and then turn right, I did so. And that's what led to some amazing views on a lovely road I'd never travelled. I thought I knew where it was leading - it wasn't. Then it got narrower. And the centre line disappeared. The hedges got closer together, or seemed to.
When there is no longer a centre line, you just know that there will be oncoming traffic. Well not traffic exactly, as that implies a flow of vehicles. This is more like intermittent surprises coming at you. I have now determined, albeit not scientifically, that you will have to pass an oncoming car: a) at the narrowest part of the road surface which does vary depending on the geography; b) on a one lane stone bridge with limited visibility of what is coming at you; or c) on a curve. Fortunately, it was only cars and a small van yesterday. Tractors pulling all manner of 'accessories', and large trucks, use those roads too, but not where I was yesterday.
Anyway, despite the grey skies and frequent showers, the views were tremendous. The dash cam was safe and dry in Moss Cottage, not on the inside of the windshield. Next time!
I did get back to the N80 eventually and instead of returning directly to the cottage, I turned off BP and turned in the other direction for Tullow. At the Tesco I found the sort of socks I was looking for. The ladies crew socks I had bought at Aldi were too short and refused to stay up. I found some small size men's socks in navy, black and grey and very inexpensive - 5 prs to a pack. Perfect. I can attest this morning that they are exactly what I needed.
I had packed socks, only a few pairs, thinking I'd just wash them out in the evening. Silly me. Hand wash when there is a washing machine? I needed to increase the supply to meet my needs and have now done so - for the second time.
And there on another shelf was a nice bottle of Merlot with my name on it whispering to be picked up, so I am now providing a good, if temporary, home for it.
I dispatched an email to the lady at the parish and before long she had replied indicating she would be happy to help me if I sent what I had and what I'm looking for. Later I prepared a document of what I have, and a couple of screen images of records that might (or not) be the right folks.
Sending that bloody email was something else. My Mac mail app is intermittently friendly/unfriendly towards gmail accounts. I happily sent off the message last night and went to bed. Guess what - it was still in the unsent folder this morning. After several attempts and opening and closing the Mail app, my information finally left the Outbox and hopefully landed in Eleanor's Inbox.
And that's when I saw it! A mouse - scurrying along the wall behind my dining table, and then in and out around the stove and recycling bin. Arggghh. I don't care for mice - at all - ever - anywhere. I've searched the laundry area in the shed below and found no traps. I've now left a voice message for Mary and Brian to see if they have any traps on hand.
Don't go all mushy on me and say don't kill it. That mouse is doomed. I plan to make use of the cheese in the fridge in a way not thought of when purchased. Or maybe I'll use some peanut butter, but it's the natural kind and very runny, so probably the cheese is the better bait. Hopefully there will be multiple traps which I'll set downstairs as well. The little rodent is upstairs with me - not downstairs where he probably got in. Very soon this place will be full of traps. When I catch the prey, I hope Brian is prepared to dispose of it. That's not my strong suit.
Today it was quite clear when I got up around 7:30 but now at almost 9:30 and one cup of coffee later the forecast of rain and wind seems to be looming. No problem there - I have no plans to leave the nest. Of course, I'm not happy about sharing it with Mickey Mouse - or maybe Minnie - but I'll be vigilant and ready to leap onto a chair if need be.
Brian has just arrived with two traps, now ready for action upon the return of the wee mousie. He's also setting out a different solution in the bedrooms below, on the ground floor. They have to have gotten in down there and I never thought I'd see one here upstairs.
Now - to get on with today. The wind is picking up and the rain is not far off. An adventure is planned for Sunday. Details as things unfold, or rather, after they have unfolded.
Tuesday, November 6, 2018
Nothing of much interest to others
Monday was a rather wet day but I managed to get the groceries, make lunch for myself and a friend, pick up Kathy D. and head to the Rocktavern for a lovely family evening with the Byrnes.
There was little genealogy done - my browsing of the registers for the Walsh, McDonald and Bulger families produced crossed eyes but no records.
Are you bored yet? Today doesn't promise to be much better in any way. It's raining - has really not stopped since Paddy left, rather mild which is nice, and I have a visit planned to Carlow library.
Bored yet? Well that's about it for now. Unless something happens today there will be little point in a blog post. I don't expect to take any photos or do anything silly. Finding parking in Carlow and later getting successfully out of the town to come back to the cottage is the predicted excitement.
Have a lovely day.
There was little genealogy done - my browsing of the registers for the Walsh, McDonald and Bulger families produced crossed eyes but no records.
Are you bored yet? Today doesn't promise to be much better in any way. It's raining - has really not stopped since Paddy left, rather mild which is nice, and I have a visit planned to Carlow library.
Bored yet? Well that's about it for now. Unless something happens today there will be little point in a blog post. I don't expect to take any photos or do anything silly. Finding parking in Carlow and later getting successfully out of the town to come back to the cottage is the predicted excitement.
Have a lovely day.
Sunday, November 4, 2018
It's been a while but finally have wifi again
Greetings - nothing sinister happened. I was just out of range of wifi for a few days. Happily I'm back online. It's too hard to type a blog using just my phone. And the cell phone reception wasn't that great either. And I was busy. Now let's see how much I remember and how much you can read without falling asleep from boredom.
Today is very mild with a bit of drizzle every now and then. I've done a couple of loads of laundry and am preparing for the arrival of Tom Byrne so I can see how rusty or capable I am when driving a manual. I hate the little car I've got and want to trade it for a diesel and probably "a stick". I'll take a picture of the odd little gear shift. There is no Park, Drive is a bump to the left and Reverse is to the right and down. It has no pep and drinks petrol like there's a hole in the tank.
Meanwhile, back at the blog ...
Our Hallowe'en experience was fun and ,as we were not giving out candy (no trick or treaters down this lane anyway), there are no leftover treats hanging around calling my name. There was little to do on Thursday morning before setting out for Wexford and Rosslare.
Of course there was a detour involved and it was planned. And we got there directly. Yay. Curracloe Beach was our first stop as it was the site for a few movies. The Irish beach scenes from the movie Brooklyn were filmed there and so was Saving Private Ryan. In that one it was used to recreate the invasion of Normandy. The beach we enjoyed, while wrapped up well, was almost deserted and very peaceful.
The sun was shining and there were few clouds - just the weather we'd come to expect. But it was pretty chilly. That didn't stop us from walking on the beach, collecting a few shells and increasing our step count for the day. Walking on sand should count as double steps. How do I set that on my step counter? Fair is fair. Stairs should count triple but I can't find that setting either. Come to think of it perhaps typing could be half a step per line.
From there we were driving to Rosslare to meet Margaret for lunch at Kelly's Cafe. It seems only reasonable, that despite her good directions, we should head to Kelly's Hotel. Nope! Well, we did get to the hotel but it was the wrong place. Finally got the GPS directions sorted out and arrived at the cafe. Lunch was lovely and we gained not only good company but a tour guide.
After lunch Margaret drove us to Kilmore Quay. I never tire of that place - that's where I turn into my mother! Last year I had a photo taken in front of one of the thatched cottages and when I saw it, it was my mother looking back at me from behind the dark glasses. Yikes. This year I made sure to be always on the other side of the camera.
Margaret's place in Rosslare was our base for the next couple of days. We'd been looking forward to the play, Dinner at Eight. It was touted as a European premiere and although that didn't quite make sense at it is not a new play, off we went. The theatre is lovely - and the wood used in the renovation assures marvellous acoustics.
We were severely underdressed. Looking at the tickets it was suggested that Black Tie and formal dress was suitable. Well, we both forgot our black ties and I'm not certain I own a dress that would have fit into the category of ball gowns and designer specials that we saw. Needless to say, I remained in my seat at the intermission lest even more people gawk at my black slacks and waterproof jacket. The sparkles on the gowns and from the patent leather shoes were quite in evidence.
About the performance - none of us noticed in the description of the production, the word 'libretto'. Oops. It was the right play but it had been turned into an opera.
The sets were marvellous, the costumes perfect, the production was elegant and beautifully staged and the set changes were seamless. But the screeching of the "singing" nearly drove us mad. They did have the sur-titles for us to read so I amused myself by doing just that. The actors simply sang the dialogue using a melody (I use the term loosely) that was awful. A review the next day said just what we found, so we felt vindicated in our views. However, the tickets were expensive and we felt somewhat ripped off. And underdressed - did I mention that before?
Friday started out sunny and we (eventually) found Johnstown Castle. There was a free tour that we decided to join after strolling a bit and taking pictures. Oh that we had declined!!! Certainly the guide knew the castle and the stories, but the main message was more along the lines of "we need bags more money than allotted to fix this up". There were few actual anecdotes about the builders, the owners and what had transpired there over the years. The tour lasted about 90 minutes - 10 of which were interesting. The final hour was spent standing inside the museum listening to a recounting of facts - names, marriages - who cares! There were details of how they want to fix it up and we were repeatedly shown the construction of new buildings. Blech! Eventually it was over.
We enjoyed a nice lunch in the cafe - after moving to a table near the fire where we weren't in danger of frostbite. There's nothing like a damp cold to get right into your bones.
Duly fortified we did enjoy the famine museum and bypassed the agricultural displays. When we came out the skies were overcast but it was dry.
That evening we had tickets for Holy Mary - the tale of two seven year old rivals, Mary and Majella. Parking the night before had been tricky so we wandered around Wexford for a few hours, stopping for supper after finding a good parking spot.
Fortunately the play was in the small theatre in the Opera House and it became apparent that ball gowns were not required. This time we fit right in with our casual attire. We were however rather early, having failed to notice the starting time was 8:30 and not 8.
The play was fabulous once my ears were attuned to the accent. The two girls, and a few other parts, were played by two actresses - not children. They did a great job of sounding like little girls, and the other characters they played. The tickets had been cheap and we loved the entire performance.
Saturday was very wet, cold and windy. We headed north to Kilruddery House Saturday market. It was a great location but the market was disappointing. I suspect some vendors gave it a miss because of the weather.
However, we met my friend Lynne and followed her to the Avoca comples at Kilmacanoge. She referred to it as the Avoca Mothership. Indeed. There are Avoca woolen mills - at Avoca - and a nice store and cafe there. This was many times larger. The food was terrific and we managed to keep our wallets closed.
En route to Dublin to return the car and get Paddy settled in her airport hotel, a stop was required to buy petrol as the car had to be returned full. It's expensive at the airport. So, taking an exit somewhere and following the GPS to find the fuel, we ended up with a tour that brought us through much of Dublin near the shore, by the port, on a toll road and through a very long tunnel - with an additional toll. Yes, it took us to the airport.
All got sorted out, we said our goodbyes after a great time together, and as Paddy drove over to return her Micra, I entered Hertz with great hope for a good vehicle.
Hopes were dashed but I decided on an automatic. Bad move. I got a nice looking Opal Astra that has as much energy as I do after two hours sleep. You can watch the needle on the gas gauge descend rapidly.
So, shortly I'll try a little drive with Tom to see how I manage with his manual shift. If all goes well, I'll contact Hertz in Wexford to see if I can exchange this piece of tin for diesel vehicle that is much easier on fuel.
Now, having done a couple of loads of laundry and started a bit on the research, I'm ready for part 3 of this trip. If you are not bored silly by now, please tune in again. But be warned - future instalments are likely to have less travel and more research and will be genealogy based. I won't be offended if you tune out. After all I won't even know.
Today is very mild with a bit of drizzle every now and then. I've done a couple of loads of laundry and am preparing for the arrival of Tom Byrne so I can see how rusty or capable I am when driving a manual. I hate the little car I've got and want to trade it for a diesel and probably "a stick". I'll take a picture of the odd little gear shift. There is no Park, Drive is a bump to the left and Reverse is to the right and down. It has no pep and drinks petrol like there's a hole in the tank.
Meanwhile, back at the blog ...
Our Hallowe'en experience was fun and ,as we were not giving out candy (no trick or treaters down this lane anyway), there are no leftover treats hanging around calling my name. There was little to do on Thursday morning before setting out for Wexford and Rosslare.
Of course there was a detour involved and it was planned. And we got there directly. Yay. Curracloe Beach was our first stop as it was the site for a few movies. The Irish beach scenes from the movie Brooklyn were filmed there and so was Saving Private Ryan. In that one it was used to recreate the invasion of Normandy. The beach we enjoyed, while wrapped up well, was almost deserted and very peaceful.
The sun was shining and there were few clouds - just the weather we'd come to expect. But it was pretty chilly. That didn't stop us from walking on the beach, collecting a few shells and increasing our step count for the day. Walking on sand should count as double steps. How do I set that on my step counter? Fair is fair. Stairs should count triple but I can't find that setting either. Come to think of it perhaps typing could be half a step per line.
From there we were driving to Rosslare to meet Margaret for lunch at Kelly's Cafe. It seems only reasonable, that despite her good directions, we should head to Kelly's Hotel. Nope! Well, we did get to the hotel but it was the wrong place. Finally got the GPS directions sorted out and arrived at the cafe. Lunch was lovely and we gained not only good company but a tour guide.
After lunch Margaret drove us to Kilmore Quay. I never tire of that place - that's where I turn into my mother! Last year I had a photo taken in front of one of the thatched cottages and when I saw it, it was my mother looking back at me from behind the dark glasses. Yikes. This year I made sure to be always on the other side of the camera.
 |
| Tapestry of Kilmore Quay - every sort of medium used; mostly textiles but some found objects |
 |
| Peaceful scene on the Quay |
 |
| Dinner, but sadly not ours |
We were severely underdressed. Looking at the tickets it was suggested that Black Tie and formal dress was suitable. Well, we both forgot our black ties and I'm not certain I own a dress that would have fit into the category of ball gowns and designer specials that we saw. Needless to say, I remained in my seat at the intermission lest even more people gawk at my black slacks and waterproof jacket. The sparkles on the gowns and from the patent leather shoes were quite in evidence.
About the performance - none of us noticed in the description of the production, the word 'libretto'. Oops. It was the right play but it had been turned into an opera.
The sets were marvellous, the costumes perfect, the production was elegant and beautifully staged and the set changes were seamless. But the screeching of the "singing" nearly drove us mad. They did have the sur-titles for us to read so I amused myself by doing just that. The actors simply sang the dialogue using a melody (I use the term loosely) that was awful. A review the next day said just what we found, so we felt vindicated in our views. However, the tickets were expensive and we felt somewhat ripped off. And underdressed - did I mention that before?
Friday started out sunny and we (eventually) found Johnstown Castle. There was a free tour that we decided to join after strolling a bit and taking pictures. Oh that we had declined!!! Certainly the guide knew the castle and the stories, but the main message was more along the lines of "we need bags more money than allotted to fix this up". There were few actual anecdotes about the builders, the owners and what had transpired there over the years. The tour lasted about 90 minutes - 10 of which were interesting. The final hour was spent standing inside the museum listening to a recounting of facts - names, marriages - who cares! There were details of how they want to fix it up and we were repeatedly shown the construction of new buildings. Blech! Eventually it was over.
We enjoyed a nice lunch in the cafe - after moving to a table near the fire where we weren't in danger of frostbite. There's nothing like a damp cold to get right into your bones.
Duly fortified we did enjoy the famine museum and bypassed the agricultural displays. When we came out the skies were overcast but it was dry.
That evening we had tickets for Holy Mary - the tale of two seven year old rivals, Mary and Majella. Parking the night before had been tricky so we wandered around Wexford for a few hours, stopping for supper after finding a good parking spot.
Fortunately the play was in the small theatre in the Opera House and it became apparent that ball gowns were not required. This time we fit right in with our casual attire. We were however rather early, having failed to notice the starting time was 8:30 and not 8.
The play was fabulous once my ears were attuned to the accent. The two girls, and a few other parts, were played by two actresses - not children. They did a great job of sounding like little girls, and the other characters they played. The tickets had been cheap and we loved the entire performance.
 |
| in case you want to keep your chickens in the house |
 |
| Don't think I'd want to scale this fence |
Saturday was very wet, cold and windy. We headed north to Kilruddery House Saturday market. It was a great location but the market was disappointing. I suspect some vendors gave it a miss because of the weather.
However, we met my friend Lynne and followed her to the Avoca comples at Kilmacanoge. She referred to it as the Avoca Mothership. Indeed. There are Avoca woolen mills - at Avoca - and a nice store and cafe there. This was many times larger. The food was terrific and we managed to keep our wallets closed.
En route to Dublin to return the car and get Paddy settled in her airport hotel, a stop was required to buy petrol as the car had to be returned full. It's expensive at the airport. So, taking an exit somewhere and following the GPS to find the fuel, we ended up with a tour that brought us through much of Dublin near the shore, by the port, on a toll road and through a very long tunnel - with an additional toll. Yes, it took us to the airport.
All got sorted out, we said our goodbyes after a great time together, and as Paddy drove over to return her Micra, I entered Hertz with great hope for a good vehicle.
Hopes were dashed but I decided on an automatic. Bad move. I got a nice looking Opal Astra that has as much energy as I do after two hours sleep. You can watch the needle on the gas gauge descend rapidly.
So, shortly I'll try a little drive with Tom to see how I manage with his manual shift. If all goes well, I'll contact Hertz in Wexford to see if I can exchange this piece of tin for diesel vehicle that is much easier on fuel.
Now, having done a couple of loads of laundry and started a bit on the research, I'm ready for part 3 of this trip. If you are not bored silly by now, please tune in again. But be warned - future instalments are likely to have less travel and more research and will be genealogy based. I won't be offended if you tune out. After all I won't even know.
Wednesday, October 31, 2018
Hallowe'en
Today was cloudy and overcast but there was no drizzle until evening. It was a fitting start to our little Hallowe'en adventure.
Paddy spent the day at Glendalough but I stayed "home", went to the library, got my hair cut and made supper. Ho hum.
I did discover that an indirect ancestor is buried in Glasnevin cemetery, as is his infant son, so I will pursue the records to add to the family history. I do plan to tour the cemetery while in Dublin just prior to returning home. There are several different tours and I hope to take the one with more obscure facts - as I don't have a great memory for the important ones. But I'm getting ahead of myself.
This evening we drove to Wells' House, about half an hour away, for a "scary" tour. We arrived in good time and despite a lack of directional signs in the dark, we did find the visitor centre and along with about a dozen others, dutifully waited at the front door for our tour.
Promptly at 8 pm, the front door opened and we were greeted by our guide, appropriately dressed in a long black cloak and pale makeup.
It was a house tour with details of various strange occurrences in the rooms we saw. The house is 300 years old, is not centrally heated despite having full time occupants until about 10 years ago, has very few electrical fixtures or outlets and no mention was made at all about bathrooms. The visitor centre now caters to those needs.
The reception room was apparently the site of a party in 1845 when the sounds of a faceless giant of a man pounding on the door demanding entrance, interrupted the merriment. The footman and the lady of the house went to the door but refused this creature entry. The lights went out, and when they came back on (I guess they relit the candles), the footman was dead and the lady was gone, never to be seen again. It's thought to have been the headless horseman. But wasn't he in the US?
We were being ushered out of the room when a screaming creature entered after some door banging, and we made haste to the stairway. Various ghouls popped up always screaming, which was quite startling. You knew it would happen but in every case I was caught offguard. We were "pawed" by a ghostly woman, entreated by dolls to stay and play, and chased by a murderous scullery boy. I suppose we were fortunate to escape with our lives.
The final touch was a chainsaw-wielding man who followed those on the tour, out to the parking lot.
All in all it was a fun evening. We did get an idea of the grandeur of the house, and it would have been very chilly to have lived there in winter. The grounds are lovely but only visible in the daytime of course. I've been there before but never inside the house.
We're packing up this evening - Paddy will not be back. I only have to pack a few things to last me until Saturday night. Of course the suitcase will include suitable theatre wear for the Wexford Opera Festival. Details will be provided after the fact.
Paddy spent the day at Glendalough but I stayed "home", went to the library, got my hair cut and made supper. Ho hum.
I did discover that an indirect ancestor is buried in Glasnevin cemetery, as is his infant son, so I will pursue the records to add to the family history. I do plan to tour the cemetery while in Dublin just prior to returning home. There are several different tours and I hope to take the one with more obscure facts - as I don't have a great memory for the important ones. But I'm getting ahead of myself.
This evening we drove to Wells' House, about half an hour away, for a "scary" tour. We arrived in good time and despite a lack of directional signs in the dark, we did find the visitor centre and along with about a dozen others, dutifully waited at the front door for our tour.
 |
| Wells House did look appropriately scary for the tour |
It was a house tour with details of various strange occurrences in the rooms we saw. The house is 300 years old, is not centrally heated despite having full time occupants until about 10 years ago, has very few electrical fixtures or outlets and no mention was made at all about bathrooms. The visitor centre now caters to those needs.
The reception room was apparently the site of a party in 1845 when the sounds of a faceless giant of a man pounding on the door demanding entrance, interrupted the merriment. The footman and the lady of the house went to the door but refused this creature entry. The lights went out, and when they came back on (I guess they relit the candles), the footman was dead and the lady was gone, never to be seen again. It's thought to have been the headless horseman. But wasn't he in the US?
We were being ushered out of the room when a screaming creature entered after some door banging, and we made haste to the stairway. Various ghouls popped up always screaming, which was quite startling. You knew it would happen but in every case I was caught offguard. We were "pawed" by a ghostly woman, entreated by dolls to stay and play, and chased by a murderous scullery boy. I suppose we were fortunate to escape with our lives.
The final touch was a chainsaw-wielding man who followed those on the tour, out to the parking lot.
All in all it was a fun evening. We did get an idea of the grandeur of the house, and it would have been very chilly to have lived there in winter. The grounds are lovely but only visible in the daytime of course. I've been there before but never inside the house.
We're packing up this evening - Paddy will not be back. I only have to pack a few things to last me until Saturday night. Of course the suitcase will include suitable theatre wear for the Wexford Opera Festival. Details will be provided after the fact.
A beautiful day in every way
It started out well and kept getting better. Despite a frosty start the temperature rose enough that you could enjoy a walk without a jacket as long as you had a couple of layers on. But that is not at all what made it a great day.
Paddy was off to Glasnevin Cemetery in Dublin as she'd missed it last week. I was being picked up by John McKenna from Enniscorthy. He is a DNA cousin and we know it is a McGrath connection - maternal side for both of us. The connection is buried deep in the past but our McGrath families have been traced back to the same townland in Co. Kilkenny around 1800.
At 10 AM as he'd promised, John showed up to collect me and off we went. The scenery was as beautiful as the day before and he didn't have to consult a map even once. That was different from our recent sorties. We were meeting his three sisters for coffee so that I could get acquainted with them.
Before the coffee klatch at the shopping centre, John gave me a tour of places meaningful to his family over the years. When the ladies joined us we sat around a table in the food court and conversation simply flowed. It's as if we'd already know each other for ages. Their sister-in-law Norah took the photo. Her husband and their brother Brian was at work. They lent me a couple of books written by another cousin in Canada.
This was no ordinary shopping centre and food court. The court is actually the courtyard of a former Workhouse and the original stone walls are still there. It has now been restored to a much happier purpose than when it was first built and used.
When we left the ladies, John drove back into the centre of town and we parked across the street from Hackett's pub. We went in for a drink. I had to have a small Smithwicks but John had a 7up. It was his choice anyway, but the Irish drinking and driving laws made it illegal for him to have alcohol in any case.
Hackett's is referred to by the current owner as the coldest pub in Ireland. The River Bregagh flows underneath the pub. This place had been the home of John's grand-parents and his mother had been born there. Just up the street was another pub, once run by his (great) uncle Michael McGrath. Nearby was a shop, still named McGrath's that had also at one time been in the family.
The pub didn't serve food so we went into Cleere's, another charming spot a few doors away, and I chose my seat beside the small open coal fire. I dined on a small serving of Irish beef stew.
Before leaving both Hackett's and Cleere's there were brief conversations and exchanges of pleasantries, including about people that John knew in common with the occupant of the bar stools. The world, especially in Kilkenny, is small. Everyone is friendly and I might have to watch myself at home. At every move a conversation breaks out and it is always on a happy note. I can't imagine such a thing at home.
John pointed out a few interesting points of history. On either side of small alleys can be found rounded stones, rather like bollards, that kept the horses pulling carts, from getting so close to the walls that the hubs of the wheels would have been scraped and damaged. We saw a remaining gate from the original city walls from the 13th century. Lucky I was there to hold it up.
We wandered around the neighbourhood that of course I will have to revisit, probably more than once. Driving in the city of Kilkenny is a challenge because the streets are hilly, twisting and narrow. John manoeuvred handily whereas I would be more than a little stressed. I think a walk from a more distant parking lot will be in order.
When we finally left the city was drove to Inistioge (inis teeg) which provided stunning views of the fall colours adorning the hillsides (mountainsides?) and valleys. There was a beautiful stone bridge with a few more arches than the one in Pakenham. Around every corner there was another lovely view. John indulged my compulsion for taking photos. Of course scenery is best simply viewed rather than photographed but that didn't stop me.
We got home at dusk and I compared notes with Paddy who had arrived back before me. Her descriptions of Glasnevin have assured that I will devote time to visiting when I am in Dublin in the first week of December.
Hallowe'en shall be celebrated by a ghost tour at Wells' House. If we survive I shall write a report.
Slan
Paddy was off to Glasnevin Cemetery in Dublin as she'd missed it last week. I was being picked up by John McKenna from Enniscorthy. He is a DNA cousin and we know it is a McGrath connection - maternal side for both of us. The connection is buried deep in the past but our McGrath families have been traced back to the same townland in Co. Kilkenny around 1800.
At 10 AM as he'd promised, John showed up to collect me and off we went. The scenery was as beautiful as the day before and he didn't have to consult a map even once. That was different from our recent sorties. We were meeting his three sisters for coffee so that I could get acquainted with them.
Before the coffee klatch at the shopping centre, John gave me a tour of places meaningful to his family over the years. When the ladies joined us we sat around a table in the food court and conversation simply flowed. It's as if we'd already know each other for ages. Their sister-in-law Norah took the photo. Her husband and their brother Brian was at work. They lent me a couple of books written by another cousin in Canada.
 |
| from left: Isa, Nuala, Clare, me and John |
When we left the ladies, John drove back into the centre of town and we parked across the street from Hackett's pub. We went in for a drink. I had to have a small Smithwicks but John had a 7up. It was his choice anyway, but the Irish drinking and driving laws made it illegal for him to have alcohol in any case.
Hackett's is referred to by the current owner as the coldest pub in Ireland. The River Bregagh flows underneath the pub. This place had been the home of John's grand-parents and his mother had been born there. Just up the street was another pub, once run by his (great) uncle Michael McGrath. Nearby was a shop, still named McGrath's that had also at one time been in the family.
The pub didn't serve food so we went into Cleere's, another charming spot a few doors away, and I chose my seat beside the small open coal fire. I dined on a small serving of Irish beef stew.
Before leaving both Hackett's and Cleere's there were brief conversations and exchanges of pleasantries, including about people that John knew in common with the occupant of the bar stools. The world, especially in Kilkenny, is small. Everyone is friendly and I might have to watch myself at home. At every move a conversation breaks out and it is always on a happy note. I can't imagine such a thing at home.
John pointed out a few interesting points of history. On either side of small alleys can be found rounded stones, rather like bollards, that kept the horses pulling carts, from getting so close to the walls that the hubs of the wheels would have been scraped and damaged. We saw a remaining gate from the original city walls from the 13th century. Lucky I was there to hold it up.
We wandered around the neighbourhood that of course I will have to revisit, probably more than once. Driving in the city of Kilkenny is a challenge because the streets are hilly, twisting and narrow. John manoeuvred handily whereas I would be more than a little stressed. I think a walk from a more distant parking lot will be in order.
When we finally left the city was drove to Inistioge (inis teeg) which provided stunning views of the fall colours adorning the hillsides (mountainsides?) and valleys. There was a beautiful stone bridge with a few more arches than the one in Pakenham. Around every corner there was another lovely view. John indulged my compulsion for taking photos. Of course scenery is best simply viewed rather than photographed but that didn't stop me.
We got home at dusk and I compared notes with Paddy who had arrived back before me. Her descriptions of Glasnevin have assured that I will devote time to visiting when I am in Dublin in the first week of December.
Hallowe'en shall be celebrated by a ghost tour at Wells' House. If we survive I shall write a report.
Slan
Monday, October 29, 2018
The frost is on the pumpkin
It was pretty chilly when I went out to the laundry room this morning. It's in a shed on the ground floor but you have to go out to get in. Hopefully you also remember to bring the keys along. Not only could the front door lock behind you but the shed is kept locked. Today however, Brian was in there so I got a two-for-one. The laundry got tucked into the machine and I had a great conversation.
Once the laundry was on the line and we'd had our lunch of soup and toast it was time to set out for a fairly local drive. Well, that really was the plan. Paddy has been doing a lot of driving and it was time to cut back for a day or so.
Our first destination was a tree. Don't laugh. I'd been before. If you've followed the blog before, you've seen it too. It's a huge Cork Oak in the cemetery of the Church of Ireland in Shillelagh. It's also featured in a book of heritage trees of Ireland by Aubrey Fennell. Sadly, he's not one of "our" Fennells. The phone cameras were again in need of exercise so we obliged - repeatedly.
Just below the branches of the beautiful tree I spotted what appeared to be shiny, transparent mushrooms. Well, they were not transparent but the silvery beige colour created that impression at first glance. So - I took some pictures. You just never know when you'll have to produce a picture of a fungus, so I'm making a collection of pretty ones. This variety will take its rightful place in the collection.
Attempts at artsy photos around the church and cemetery were rather more disappointing.
From there it was off to Tinahely. It's not far away but I'd never spent more than the time it takes to drive through so we thought we'd do some exploring. Right after entering the village, we saw the sign to the Tinahely Farm Shop so Paddy pulled a hard right turn and managed to create a parking space for our Micra. I think she's done a great job of fitting in with the habits of the Irish. If there is no parking lot, don't be deterred. Make yourself a spot anywhere you darn well want to.
The outdoor area is definitely for children although being a farming area I am not certain how the barn and surroundings hold any appeal. Perhaps the 5 Euro charge for kids is worth it but we didn't bother to investigate behind the barn entrance.
The shop sells a number of antique-y things, some novelties, toys, glassware, coasters, jams, jellies and other treats. We checked out the little cafe but it was too soon after lunch to eat again.
Pointing the car back onto the road we'd so abruptly left, we oohed and aaahed over the scenery as we wound our way via Hacketstown to Baltinglass. The route was purely accidental but no matter where you drive there's plenty to see. If you're lucky, there's also something to explore and of course, photograph.
And there we found the Abbey - all ready to be explored. Finding it visually was one thing. Actually getting there took a little more "doing". But we did it. A sign would have been helpful but alas ...
The abbey was founded around 1100 and had four distinct eras over the intervening centuries. It's now in ruins but they are pretty interesting to explore. The builders seemed unable to decide on round or square columns, so they alternated. The arches make lovely frames for photos of the surrounding countryside and remnants of the various 'lives' are everywhere. The attached cemetery has some very old graves and some that are less than a year old. The surrounding vistas are as beautiful as anywhere else in the county.
Being rather chilly by then, we went in search of a cafe to have a coffee and dessert. We ended up back at Rathwood where we indulged our taste buds, but our taste for the retail offerings was successfully curtailed. Yay us!!
Once again we are back in Moss Cottage and I'm still trying to figure out a good way to save the photos from the phone. They are steadfastly refusing to upload to Dropbox. Until last week they dutifully uploaded themselves, as per the setting, as soon I the phone was charging. Since October 11th, it must be peeved at something. My one attempt to manually upload resulted in four copies of each picture - and that's excessive.
I have posted some pictures on Facebook and will download a few of those for your visual enjoyment. Then I shall sit in a corner and sulk about the inefficiency of the technology. Or maybe I'll just make a cup of peppermint tea and retire with my book.
Tomorrow Paddy is once again travelling to Dublin, this time to visit Glasnevin Cemetery. Not so fast, it's not a strange thing to do. This is a special place. I've reserved a day while in Dublin at the end of my stay, to do the same thing.
I'll be joining some distant McGrath cousins for some socializing in Kilkenny tomorrow. It would be nice to combine what we each know to find our common ancestor but I think that's dreaming in colour.
Tune in again tomorrow to check on our progress.
Genealogy alert:
I did find a source in the National Library for estate papers including rental records, which should include the Walsh, McDonald and Bulger ancestors. Something else to add to the Dublin itinerary in December - a day at the NLI poring over handwritten ledgers. Fun! I'll try to order them up in advance so I can start searching quickly.
Now here are some pictures for you for your patience. I never get them in the right order - feel free to complain.
Once the laundry was on the line and we'd had our lunch of soup and toast it was time to set out for a fairly local drive. Well, that really was the plan. Paddy has been doing a lot of driving and it was time to cut back for a day or so.
Our first destination was a tree. Don't laugh. I'd been before. If you've followed the blog before, you've seen it too. It's a huge Cork Oak in the cemetery of the Church of Ireland in Shillelagh. It's also featured in a book of heritage trees of Ireland by Aubrey Fennell. Sadly, he's not one of "our" Fennells. The phone cameras were again in need of exercise so we obliged - repeatedly.
Just below the branches of the beautiful tree I spotted what appeared to be shiny, transparent mushrooms. Well, they were not transparent but the silvery beige colour created that impression at first glance. So - I took some pictures. You just never know when you'll have to produce a picture of a fungus, so I'm making a collection of pretty ones. This variety will take its rightful place in the collection.
Attempts at artsy photos around the church and cemetery were rather more disappointing.
From there it was off to Tinahely. It's not far away but I'd never spent more than the time it takes to drive through so we thought we'd do some exploring. Right after entering the village, we saw the sign to the Tinahely Farm Shop so Paddy pulled a hard right turn and managed to create a parking space for our Micra. I think she's done a great job of fitting in with the habits of the Irish. If there is no parking lot, don't be deterred. Make yourself a spot anywhere you darn well want to.
The outdoor area is definitely for children although being a farming area I am not certain how the barn and surroundings hold any appeal. Perhaps the 5 Euro charge for kids is worth it but we didn't bother to investigate behind the barn entrance.
The shop sells a number of antique-y things, some novelties, toys, glassware, coasters, jams, jellies and other treats. We checked out the little cafe but it was too soon after lunch to eat again.
Pointing the car back onto the road we'd so abruptly left, we oohed and aaahed over the scenery as we wound our way via Hacketstown to Baltinglass. The route was purely accidental but no matter where you drive there's plenty to see. If you're lucky, there's also something to explore and of course, photograph.
And there we found the Abbey - all ready to be explored. Finding it visually was one thing. Actually getting there took a little more "doing". But we did it. A sign would have been helpful but alas ...
The abbey was founded around 1100 and had four distinct eras over the intervening centuries. It's now in ruins but they are pretty interesting to explore. The builders seemed unable to decide on round or square columns, so they alternated. The arches make lovely frames for photos of the surrounding countryside and remnants of the various 'lives' are everywhere. The attached cemetery has some very old graves and some that are less than a year old. The surrounding vistas are as beautiful as anywhere else in the county.
Being rather chilly by then, we went in search of a cafe to have a coffee and dessert. We ended up back at Rathwood where we indulged our taste buds, but our taste for the retail offerings was successfully curtailed. Yay us!!
Once again we are back in Moss Cottage and I'm still trying to figure out a good way to save the photos from the phone. They are steadfastly refusing to upload to Dropbox. Until last week they dutifully uploaded themselves, as per the setting, as soon I the phone was charging. Since October 11th, it must be peeved at something. My one attempt to manually upload resulted in four copies of each picture - and that's excessive.
I have posted some pictures on Facebook and will download a few of those for your visual enjoyment. Then I shall sit in a corner and sulk about the inefficiency of the technology. Or maybe I'll just make a cup of peppermint tea and retire with my book.
Tomorrow Paddy is once again travelling to Dublin, this time to visit Glasnevin Cemetery. Not so fast, it's not a strange thing to do. This is a special place. I've reserved a day while in Dublin at the end of my stay, to do the same thing.
I'll be joining some distant McGrath cousins for some socializing in Kilkenny tomorrow. It would be nice to combine what we each know to find our common ancestor but I think that's dreaming in colour.
Tune in again tomorrow to check on our progress.
Genealogy alert:
I did find a source in the National Library for estate papers including rental records, which should include the Walsh, McDonald and Bulger ancestors. Something else to add to the Dublin itinerary in December - a day at the NLI poring over handwritten ledgers. Fun! I'll try to order them up in advance so I can start searching quickly.
Now here are some pictures for you for your patience. I never get them in the right order - feel free to complain.
 |
| Baltinglass Abbey - note the alternating round and square columns |
 |
| Large Cork Oak in Shillelagh |
 |
| Close up view of the bark on the Cork Oak. Looks like it could conceal some scary critters. |
 |
| Giraffe spotted on our safari to Tinahely Farm Shop |
 |
| Kissing Gate at the COI at Baltinglass Abbey. Open it all the way, step in, then move the gate back to the starting position and step out the other side. |
 |
| My little "transparent" mushroom |
 |
| Baltinglass Abbey from across the field |
 |
| Tinahely without traffic - for a change |
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)