Genealogy alert
No fun travel or pictures and if you don't have any interest in my digging up family roots - and why on earth would you - then enjoy your day.
I mailed two letters, on Tuesday, to folks I hoped would be able to provide some information on a connection. Kudos to the Irish postal system. Both were delivered the next day. The 2 Euro investment in stamps has paid off. They were written McDonalds in Bohermore, Co Carlow and Kehoes in Corragh, Co Wexford. Figuring that a letter is non-intrusive and would not compel anyone to reply, I tried that route.
I am batting two for two. Yesterday I spoke with Andy Kehoe, from Corragh, and it seems likely that is the right family. It will be a while but hopefully his children will take the time around Christmas to send the information. Andy doesn't use computers. I did call Mary Mackey, the historian from Gorey whose name and number Andy gave me.
Mary is a human historical encyclopedia. She is connected to the same Kehoes and seems to know more than most books I've consulted. We set up a date for this afternoon at the Bookshop Cafe in Gorey. Parking will be a nightmare but I'll leave early. Apparently Gorey is a shopper's paradise so I'll have a wander about.
I spent considerable time browsing church records for parishes surrounding Clonegal, hoping to find the marriage of Arthur Byrne and Eliza Kehoe. Brides always, well nearly always, married in the parish of their family and she was not necessarily from Clonegal. However, if she was from Corragh, then Clonegal would have been the parish. The records started in 1833 when they already had five children. I do have the baptisms of the youngest four. Among those were the Kehoe sponsors, Owen and Martin. That is my link.
Art and Eliza's son Edward, my great great grandfather, had a son named Martin. They must have got the name from a family connection as that is how names were chosen back then. It's a small link but it's there. Sadly, Martin must have died as a young child because while he was baptised in 1876, he was not in the 1881 census. Deaths were not necessarily noted in church records. I will have to consult the Archives of Ontario for this one. But I digress.
This morning I had a phone call from a neighbour of the Bohermore letter recipient. Denis said that the McDonald I wrote to "married into that land" so is not related. The name just happens to match. However, Denis is connected to McDonalds who are no longer there. It seems from what he can remember, that several of them had no children or didn't marry or moved out of the county and they are all long gone. There is a ruin of the McDonald home on the townland. Now I must decide if I want to go and see it. I'll wait until the weather improves - today shows little promise at the moment.
Denis is also going to consult with his mother to see if she knows anything. I am considering the idea of meeting him for a cup of coffee (likely tea for him) as his accent is a bit difficult for me to understand over the phone. He did call back but must have been outside in the wind so I couldn't make out what he was saying and the call got disconnected.
So - here I sit with the least tasty cup of coffee I've ever made, pondering how to organize the day. So many random thoughts floating around in the empty space where my brain should be. First order of business - dispose of the coffee.
Did I mention that I'm going to Glasnevin on Monday with Mary Gilsenan? We'll take the tour and then I'll try to find the grave of Arthur Byrne and his wife Bridget Corcoran. I have the record and grave ID from the cemetery. I'll also see if I can find that of their infant son Michael who lived only two weeks and died a few months before his father. Both Arthur and Bridget were only in their 30s when they died. He was felled by heart disease and she succumbed to bronchitis. The street where they lived with her family, is no longer there so I can't visit. Then again - I wonder if it just has a different name. I guess it's time to get online with the old OSI maps and try to overlay it on the modern version.
Friday, November 16, 2018
Thursday, November 15, 2018
It's raining it's pouring - and not just the wet
Genealogy alert
I have not been out and about in the past few days, other than to libraries and such. Travel has been strictly business. The weather has been awful and no photos have been taken. I have re-attached the dashcam but of course didn't have it on when I encountered the Hunt last Sunday.
The following are notes to myself, so you might as well toddle off and find something more interesting to do.
I've been in pursuit of Walsh and MdcDonald connections hereabouts. The information I'd collected prior to arrival remains almost all of what I know at this point. I did get some information from my researcher (thank you John O.) but although it has likely significance it is not absolute. The fact that there were three McDonalds on a townland way back in the 1820s does not mean that they were necessarily related, let alone brothers or first cousins. As in my other ancestral lines they were fond of using a given list of first names, so rarely strayed from that list of about 10 names. Always the same names. Not even one of them was unique.
I'd been planning to go to the National Library in Dublin after leaving Bunclody but it seems that I was following poor information and there would be nothing in the collection I'd thought of ordering. So, having seen quite a lot of Dublin over the years, I will now be flying home on Dec 1 and not stopping in Dublin at all. There will be future trips should I wish to see more. If I find another lead I'll find a local researcher to do the work for me.
On FB I noticed a post that had Fennells mentioned. Following up produced another dead end - wrong family. However, since I last pursued that elusive bunch, more records have come online. Perhaps somewhat more than I was prepared for. Not all are the right ones but the nuggets are there so careful separation of wheat from chaff should lead to progress. I had brief palpitations when I found the name "Gwendolyn" but now it seems that she is not part of the right line. Darn. Back to Mary, Margaret, Ann and Eliza.
Since connecting with the Byrne family 10 years ago, and the McGraths earlier this year, I still hold on to the hope that I will find more living connections to family lines. Are there Fennells, Whelans, Kehoes out there waiting to meet me?
When you are willing to engage in conversation and have a friend who seems to know everyone in Leinster, and probably everywhere else too, good things happen. Marg keeps me supplied with names to call but without an actual connection to them I'll leave the cold-calls to her.
The fruitless visit to the Bagenalstown library did yield a name. There is a family now on the townland I'm interested in, with the same surname as the 'missing' ancestors. Not wanting to bother them by showing up in their lane, or even calling out of the blue, I decided to write a letter.
At the time I had no intention of actually writing. I was planning to type it. However, the printer is no longer cooperating at all and I had to physically put pen to paper. I actually did it twice. Yesterday I mailed two letters. The second was almost on a whim because I'd contacted them once before.
You just never know. Today I got a call from the Kehoe connection and he has some information. [My compliments to the Irish postal service for less than 24 hour service.] The names I mentioned were used in his family. Lots of them have gone to the US - back even before the famine and many since. He does have some information and is going to have his children email it to me around Christmas. Yay. He also gave me the name of another lady, deeply into history and genealogy, who lives in Gorey. I'm going to phone her shortly. Fingers crossed.
Not being one to do anything in a straight line, I put aside the previous families to work briefly this morning on an old Irish connection in Quebec. It was my ggg grandmother Bridget Loughnane who married Jean Baptiste Hebert. One of the witnesses at her wedding just might turn out to have been her half-brother. It may be that she came to Canada with him sometime before 1832. The life of a genealogist may not involve a lot of physical exercise (yes I know, I have to move around more), but the brain gets knotted and twisted and worked out quite a lot.
Now here I am nice and dry inside out of the wind. There is absolutely nothing appealing about today's weather.
Now to make that phone call and get on with things.
I have not been out and about in the past few days, other than to libraries and such. Travel has been strictly business. The weather has been awful and no photos have been taken. I have re-attached the dashcam but of course didn't have it on when I encountered the Hunt last Sunday.
The following are notes to myself, so you might as well toddle off and find something more interesting to do.
I've been in pursuit of Walsh and MdcDonald connections hereabouts. The information I'd collected prior to arrival remains almost all of what I know at this point. I did get some information from my researcher (thank you John O.) but although it has likely significance it is not absolute. The fact that there were three McDonalds on a townland way back in the 1820s does not mean that they were necessarily related, let alone brothers or first cousins. As in my other ancestral lines they were fond of using a given list of first names, so rarely strayed from that list of about 10 names. Always the same names. Not even one of them was unique.
I'd been planning to go to the National Library in Dublin after leaving Bunclody but it seems that I was following poor information and there would be nothing in the collection I'd thought of ordering. So, having seen quite a lot of Dublin over the years, I will now be flying home on Dec 1 and not stopping in Dublin at all. There will be future trips should I wish to see more. If I find another lead I'll find a local researcher to do the work for me.
On FB I noticed a post that had Fennells mentioned. Following up produced another dead end - wrong family. However, since I last pursued that elusive bunch, more records have come online. Perhaps somewhat more than I was prepared for. Not all are the right ones but the nuggets are there so careful separation of wheat from chaff should lead to progress. I had brief palpitations when I found the name "Gwendolyn" but now it seems that she is not part of the right line. Darn. Back to Mary, Margaret, Ann and Eliza.
Since connecting with the Byrne family 10 years ago, and the McGraths earlier this year, I still hold on to the hope that I will find more living connections to family lines. Are there Fennells, Whelans, Kehoes out there waiting to meet me?
When you are willing to engage in conversation and have a friend who seems to know everyone in Leinster, and probably everywhere else too, good things happen. Marg keeps me supplied with names to call but without an actual connection to them I'll leave the cold-calls to her.
The fruitless visit to the Bagenalstown library did yield a name. There is a family now on the townland I'm interested in, with the same surname as the 'missing' ancestors. Not wanting to bother them by showing up in their lane, or even calling out of the blue, I decided to write a letter.
At the time I had no intention of actually writing. I was planning to type it. However, the printer is no longer cooperating at all and I had to physically put pen to paper. I actually did it twice. Yesterday I mailed two letters. The second was almost on a whim because I'd contacted them once before.
You just never know. Today I got a call from the Kehoe connection and he has some information. [My compliments to the Irish postal service for less than 24 hour service.] The names I mentioned were used in his family. Lots of them have gone to the US - back even before the famine and many since. He does have some information and is going to have his children email it to me around Christmas. Yay. He also gave me the name of another lady, deeply into history and genealogy, who lives in Gorey. I'm going to phone her shortly. Fingers crossed.
Not being one to do anything in a straight line, I put aside the previous families to work briefly this morning on an old Irish connection in Quebec. It was my ggg grandmother Bridget Loughnane who married Jean Baptiste Hebert. One of the witnesses at her wedding just might turn out to have been her half-brother. It may be that she came to Canada with him sometime before 1832. The life of a genealogist may not involve a lot of physical exercise (yes I know, I have to move around more), but the brain gets knotted and twisted and worked out quite a lot.
Now here I am nice and dry inside out of the wind. There is absolutely nothing appealing about today's weather.
Now to make that phone call and get on with things.
Monday, November 12, 2018
Catching up
The weekend was mostly genealogy but not my own. I helped someone find a few missing records. Got some names on old Byrne photos and stepped back into Egan's pub for some traditional Irish music in the evening.
Pat Jordan and Finian's Rainbow were featured on Saturday night. He's from just around the corner from the pub but has been living in England for a long time. He's developed a successful career as an entertainer. He certainly didn't disappoint on Saturday night.
The new Irish drinking and driving laws were responsible for me sticking to a glass of tonic water as my beverage of choice. I was among the first to leave around midnight. The party showed no signs of slowing down despite the advertised time being 9 pm to midnight.
On the drive back to Bunclody I encountered only one other car. As luck would have it, the 'meeting' was on the narrow stone bridge in Clonegal. Twenty kilometers of road, and there was only one oncoming vehicle. It underlined what I believe to be one of the driving rules in Ireland. If you are meeting another vehicle on a country road it will happen in one of three places. And on a stone bridge is one of them. A few seconds difference in time and the meeting would have been on a wider stretch of road. Ah well ... it was a 'no contact' event as we were both travelling slowly enough to negotiate the narrow space available.
The rest of the trip was uneventful despite a lot of ground fog, meaning I couldn't see if I used high beams.
Sunday dawned bright and sunny. That lasted until about noon. In the morning I picked up Marg and Jane and we attended Remembrance Day services in Gorey. From there it was into the back of beyond - or so it seemed.
There was some hesitation of how to get to The Gap. No - not the store. It is a pub located somewhere that required a lot of driving on fun little roads unbothered by the lack of a centre white line for the most part. Google Maps and Navigation provided assistance.
It also just happened to be the one day of the year of The Hunt!. We had to stop to allow dozens of horses and very trimly dressed riders who were following a pack of hounds. I'm not sure how they arrange for a fox to be in the right place to be followed, or whether there even was a fox. I couldn't get a straight answer.
And to skip ahead a few hours, we met them and had to stop again on the way back. During the intervening hours it was often raining. We were either in a pub or in the car when the rain was heavy. The hunters weren't so lucky but they were a dedicated lot.
The pub was a wonderful very old pub. The decor was eccentric and just what one would ask for in such a place. The story goes that it was once - if I recall correctly - a barracks or a military building of some kind.
It was a truly unique experience being shown a lot of very significant pieces of local history. Tom let us know that he would make himself available again if we wanted to extend this tour.
Pat Jordan and Finian's Rainbow were featured on Saturday night. He's from just around the corner from the pub but has been living in England for a long time. He's developed a successful career as an entertainer. He certainly didn't disappoint on Saturday night.
The new Irish drinking and driving laws were responsible for me sticking to a glass of tonic water as my beverage of choice. I was among the first to leave around midnight. The party showed no signs of slowing down despite the advertised time being 9 pm to midnight.
On the drive back to Bunclody I encountered only one other car. As luck would have it, the 'meeting' was on the narrow stone bridge in Clonegal. Twenty kilometers of road, and there was only one oncoming vehicle. It underlined what I believe to be one of the driving rules in Ireland. If you are meeting another vehicle on a country road it will happen in one of three places. And on a stone bridge is one of them. A few seconds difference in time and the meeting would have been on a wider stretch of road. Ah well ... it was a 'no contact' event as we were both travelling slowly enough to negotiate the narrow space available.
The rest of the trip was uneventful despite a lot of ground fog, meaning I couldn't see if I used high beams.
Sunday dawned bright and sunny. That lasted until about noon. In the morning I picked up Marg and Jane and we attended Remembrance Day services in Gorey. From there it was into the back of beyond - or so it seemed.
There was some hesitation of how to get to The Gap. No - not the store. It is a pub located somewhere that required a lot of driving on fun little roads unbothered by the lack of a centre white line for the most part. Google Maps and Navigation provided assistance.
It also just happened to be the one day of the year of The Hunt!. We had to stop to allow dozens of horses and very trimly dressed riders who were following a pack of hounds. I'm not sure how they arrange for a fox to be in the right place to be followed, or whether there even was a fox. I couldn't get a straight answer.
And to skip ahead a few hours, we met them and had to stop again on the way back. During the intervening hours it was often raining. We were either in a pub or in the car when the rain was heavy. The hunters weren't so lucky but they were a dedicated lot.
The pub was a wonderful very old pub. The decor was eccentric and just what one would ask for in such a place. The story goes that it was once - if I recall correctly - a barracks or a military building of some kind.
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| Our table - I guess they like creative customers |
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| Back part of The Barn at The Gap
At the appointed time, we met Tom Cullen who is a local historian. In between the raindrops we travelled to see some historic sites in the townland of Croghan. This place was subject to evictions in the 1870s. There was no assisted passage for these farmers. The landlord tossed them out with no regard for their future.
There was even a murder as a tenant tried to resist the eviction of his family.
From the 1880s to the turn of the century a sustained campaign for land reform was carried out by the Land League under Michael Davitt and the Irish Parliamentary party under Parnell. The Croghan evictions took place in 1887 during which a large number of tenants were evicted from the Brooke Estates in Ballyfad and Coolgreany. At this time also John Kinsella of Croghan was murdered by the Emergency men supporting the landlords.
There are some ruins of homes abandoned by the evicted tenants. Others have been restored and renovated. The views are spectacular, leaving me to wonder how anyone could have treated the farmers so cruelly when just looking around should make you feel at peace.
We were in and out between Wicklow and Wexford all afternoon. Here Tom and I are in different counties. I can't remember which of us was in Wicklow and which in Wexford.
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This morning it was time to exchange the nasty little Opal for a real car. Without much ado, but with lots of rain, I made my way to Wexford and the Hertz office.
I'm now driving a lovely VW Golf. I'd said it didn't matter if it was manual or automatic. It's an automatic. I'll keep it until my return trip to Dublin. It is very peppy and responsive and has a diesel engine. This will save me a LOT of money in fuel. Petrol is about 1.48 a litre and diesel is about 1.38 and provides much better mileage as well.
Once I got back to Moss Cottage and did the laundry, I launched myself back into genealogy land. Those of you not into this, you may return and pick up your day where you left off.
Genealogy alert:
I was merrily reviewing my McDonald-Walsh records but didn't make any progress. Then Marg called with a name and phone number. This might be a lead on my Kehoes. I'd long abandoned the idea of making any progress there.
Well, lo and behold, this person has Kehoes all over her family tree. Once branch has links to the same townland that has been mentioned as probably significant to me. Helen provided all sorts of interesting facts. There seems to be a connection but neither of us can make any particular theory work with the available records. Of course this derailed the McDonalds for the day.
It's now time to call it a day and wind down with my book. It's called Bayonets and Lace, by Barry Redmond. It's set in Co Wexford and begins before the Rebellion of 1798. The author is probably then new owner of Coollattin which may be used as the setting if the book is made into a film. Only time will tell if that happens.
Sunday, November 11, 2018
Remembrance
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.
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.
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.
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