An uncooperative camera on a fabulous couple of days

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Even without colourful flowers it's a lovely scene.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

A quiet wet and windy day

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Storytelling in Bunclody

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Photos - post #2

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

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

Walking down the final flight to the Sheffield train station

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Outside of the market building - or part of it

 

Fresh fish and seafood anyone?

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

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

still inside the market building

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

Loved this pub entrance

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

The Photo Edition

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Entry to the ring fort at the Heritage Park

reproduction celtic cross

Should have opened with this one

I'm Baaaack

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Genealogy alert:

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

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

Back on the narrative trail again.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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