If you visit my blog, you’ll notice a new page, Surfin’ the Web (if you view this blog via a reader, well, come visit!). I’m trying out a new way to keep track of my bookmarks. I’m sure you’ve heard of Del.ici.ous, the social bookmarking site. It’s a really cool way to access your bookmarks from any computer that’s connected to the internet. I’m sharing my links with you, and so are other people. Anyone who uses the tag “crazyquilts” is included in the feed on my Netvibes public page, in the upper right hand corner of the page.

If you’d like to join in, and add sites too, sign up for a Del.ici.ous account, and start adding links. You can put a bookmarklet button on your browser, making it super easy to add links. If you network with me, you can see all my bookmarks-even more sharing! But… If you’re a little unsure of using Del.ici.ous, you can always leave me a comment on this page, and ask me to add your link. And please, if you have a cool blog or website, tell me about it so I can add it!

The list below contains links to my Netvibes tabs; I think the names are self explanatory. Each Netvibe tab also has a list of my Del.ici.ous tags. You can select a tag, and go to my Del.ici.ous links associated with that tag. If you click on a link in one of the feeds, a new page for that link will open.

Crazy quilting

Ireland

Computer (not there yet, but eventually…)

Let me know what you think of this. It’s an experiment at this point, and I might go back to having links on the blog (yes, they’re all still there as of now! but that’ll be changing soon… verrrry sooonnn…). It’s just that I’ve found it so easy to use Del.ici.ous; no more copy/paste stuff, my link list on Netvibes is updated without any effort at all, and I can see tons more links as well. What’s not to like??

I’ve uploaded a podcast about the things I purchased in Ireland. I hope it isn’t as boring to you as it is to me! You’ll want to look at this while you listen: Irish Purchases. I was really surprised that I liked doing the podcast part, and I learned a lot about podcasting-mostly how much work it is! Practicing before recording is a really good idea!

Derrymore Strand, Visit #Two

I got up this morning to a wildly windy wet day and decided it would be a good day to go to the ocean, rather than visit Dartfield Horse Museum. I love beachcombing, and stormy days can cast up some wonderful treasures. I stopped in Limerick to take a few photos of the church I’d visited and then was on my way.

I soon discovered that my map was still with Carolyn, which was a little dismaying. I had a poorly marked tourist guide that I hoped would substitute. I was overly optimistic it turned out!

I managed to stay fairly close to the coast, most of the time. At one point, I was driving on a road that was just a few meters from the water, when a large wave hit the breakfront, sloshed over the road, and my car as well. Quite exciting! It was still raining, and raining harder and harder, when I finally decided that it was time to let common sense take over. I headed for Tralee, where I would eat lunch and turn around. I love the beach, but it was cold enough that I didn’t want to walk the beach and get soaked too.

Of course by the time I got to Tralee the sun was out, it was gorgeous, and what in the heck was I thinking to turn around and go home? I found a pub and finally tried mayonnaise eggs. Hard boiled eggs under a huge mound of mayonnaise! It was kinda gross, and I managed to eat the eggs, but not all the mayo. A beer and chips and rashers rounded out my healthy (not!) meal. Anyway, it was an interested exploration of Irish cuisine!

Since I couldn’t find the beaches I’d planned on visiting, I decided to go back to Derrymore Strand. I knew where that was, and it would be easy to find again. Besides, it was a lovely beach and I’d only gone one direction from the car on my previous visit. So there was still more to see.

My hunch paid off, and I found a huge, complete, unchipped scallop shell almost as soon as I was on wet sand. And for the icing on the cake, it was topped with a small oyster shell. I found quite a few more shells, though nothing like my last visit. The surf, rather than depositing lots of shells, had cleaned off the beach. Well, I had plenty from my last visit!

The wind was really, really whipping, and I greatly regretted not bringing one of my trapper’s hats with me. My poor little ears were really hurting, and my windbreaker hood was not cooperating. I walked down aways, and finally turned around, with the wind at my back. More comfortable, but I still missed my hat.

I went past the car park, and kept going. I could see rocks in the distance and thought I’d better investigate and see if there were any tidepools. The wind was making lovely patterns in the sand, pushing water, foam, and tide into interesting shapes and textures for my photographic pleasure. So, even though the beach was fairly well scoured, I was still going to bring home an armload of treasures.

The rocks up ahead were beautifully textured with limpets, barnacles, mussels, seaweed, and probably a good many flora and fauna that I can’t name or didn’t recognize. I had a wonderful time framing shots and snapping away with the digital camera. After a couple of hours of wandering around, my ears were hurting badly enough (and I was dreading uploading all those photos!) that I decided it was time to head off home.

Tony and Gracie were feeding when I got home, so I stopped to see the new lamb born early in the morning. She was a lot more lively now! Gracie was quite interested in her, but not too sure about Momma, and was content to look over the fence rail. The wind had died down by now, but it was still chilly. I was happy to go inside and relax in the warmth.

Wicklow Mountains

I should have done this ages ago… catching up with my last few days in Ireland. It’s hard to look at my photos without wishing I was there. Only a month ago I was driving to Dublin…

Anyway! I’ll pretend that today I’m just getting home from the Wicklow Mountains. Carolyn and I went off on our own while the rest of the crew caught up on their sleep and the laundry. We left verrrry early in the morning, and took the backroads out to the N8 so we could skip going through Limerick. It was a cloudy morning that cleared off to a beautiful sunny day. I wanted to stop at Mountmellick to see the museum, but then decided to skip it, since Carolyn wasn’t too interested. It was way too early anyway, and I was eager to find something for breakfast.

We stopped at the Irish National Stud in Tully, Co. Kildare, but again, we were too early and decided that breakfast was much more appealing than waiting an hour to visit the stud. It looks like a beautiful place to visit though, so it’s on the list for my next trip.

We found our turnoff, and headed towards the Wicklow Mountains. Lovely rolling hillsides with lots of gorse and trees interspersed with pastures. Wilder than what I’ve been seeing, with few stone walls. We stopped at a little river with an attractive little bridge, stretched our legs, and took a few photos.

We hadn’t found breakfast yet, so piled back into the car, winding our way uphill and stopped at Wicklow Gap. It had clouded over, and was clearing again while we wandered around, taking photographs, collecting ceremonial rocks, and reading the interpretive signs. I so want to come when the heather is in bloom! Right now it’s a dull bronze color; interesting enough, but I’m sure it’s much prettier in flower.

We were surprised to learn that the mountain hides an electrical generating station. Apparently there’s a lake at the top (we didn’t walk up the road; I guess that’s why the road is there?), and at peak demand, water from the lake pours through the generator, lighting up homes in Ireland. I certainly wouldn’t have guessed!

Driving down the other side of the Gap, the vegetation changed until it was mostly trees. It reminded me of the California coastal mountains; maybe because the sun was playing hide and seek in the fog? Or the narrow windy road that slithered down the mountainside? We poked our noses into Glendalough, where we finally found something to eat at the beautiful Hotel Wicklow. It’s been there quite awhile, but is very well maintained and very modern as well. Lovely scones, hot coffee, cream, and marmalade. Delicious!

We spent a couple of hours rambling around the Wicklow Mountains National Park, the accompanying visitor’s center, and the monastic city next door. I must have taken forty photos of Rapunzel’s tower! Okay, it wasn’t Rapunzel’s tower; it’s a bell tower for what’s left of the monastery. There’s a wonderful cemetery with lots and lots of headstones with Celtic crosses. Why aren’t American cemeteries as interesting as Irish and European cemeteries? I even found a grave with blooming heather; now I know why I want to see the heather in bloom! Lovely lovely tiny lavender blooms. We crossed the creek and walked up the paved path to a small lake. Luckily it was still too early for gobs of tourists, though there were still plenty of people around. And the sunshine poured down; just for us, I’m sure!

Finally we had to get on our way, and off we went to Avoca. It’s a very small town with a big attraction for the two of us: Avoca Handweavers! The Avoca enterprise has been around since 1723, originally milling corn and weaving wool for the local miners. It’s become one of the premier woolen mills in Ireland, and I am so glad I visited! You’re allowed to go through the workshop; which I believe is largely ornamental now. Most of the production takes place elsewhere. It’s extremely noisy, and luckily enough, they provide you with earplugs. Quite interesting to see the huge looms clacking away, making some of the woolen goods that are sold in the store.

The grounds, shop, and café are absolutely gorgeous; of course it was still sunny, which always makes things prettier. The shop and café are in a large whitewashed stone building, with lots of windows looking out towards the workshop and nicely landscaped grounds. We ate lunch; a wonderful broccoli salad that prompted me to buy one of the Avoca cookbooks, and a sausage. Carolyn had something equally tasty, not that I remember what it was she ate!

After lunch, she made a beeline for the upstairs, where the seconds and sale items are housed. I wandered around downstairs, choosing a few small things, and then trailed after her. I couldn’t resist the wool yardage, packed in one meter lengths, and another sweater. This one is cotton, and it is hand embroidered! It’s adorable! Bright pink, soft, and very comfortable to wear. I also chose a few scarves for gifts. I resisted the blankets, as I have several that I don’t use very often, but they were lovely.

Downstairs featured more woolen goods of course, and lots of books, childrens’ toys and clothes, and clothing for women too. I suppose there was stuff for guys too, but why would I look at that?? ☺ I would love to have bought some more scarves, but enough is enough! It was a bit of choke to get out of there as it was!

We rambled off down the road, quite satisfied with what we’d seen and done already. We poked around Carlow, where I will be returning to on my next trip. I had seen Carrickmacross lace on the web, and it was on my list to visit, but since I wasn’t organized enough to look at my list before we left-eh, there wasn’t time to stop and visit Mary O’Neill. I also saw advertising for the Donard Workshop, for adult size slippers, something I’d hoped to purchase in Ireland, but hadn’t yet found. I’ll be back…

By now it was getting quite late in the afternoon, so after a wrong turn that sent us to a gas station since we needed to fill up anyway, we tootled on home at a leisurely pace, and were back at the farm around six o’clock. It was really fun to get to spend some time with Carolyn; she was the instigator of this whole trip, and the only one of the crew that I knew before we went to Ireland.

Well, I really am home, but I have three more Irish posts before I “get home on the blog”. Thursday I went to the Wicklow Mountains and Avoca Handweavers with Carolyn; Friday I went back to Derrymore Strand; and Saturday I went to Doolin with our holiday house hosts, Dee and Tony, and their grandbaby Gracie. Sunday I got up very late, breakfasted and chatted with Sheila, and took my time driving to the hotel the five of us stayed at before leaving on Monday morning. So more later!

Limerick
March 26

My last Wednesday in Ireland. I spent forever uploading photos and blog posts at the internet café, where I was greeted with a groan and “Why can’t you use our computers?” by the computer-illiterate owner. He was joking, but was a bit nervous about setting up my laptop. All went well though, so I left around 11 a.m. and headed for the Limerick Quilt Centre.

Everyone was busy working away on their sampler quilts. I am so glad I stopped by, as I got to meet Marion and Joan, both doing their sampler quilts by hand. I got a picture of Marion’s quilt at the meeting, so it was nice to meet the maker. Both are doing beautiful work on their quilts; I’m envious! Holly was working on a rail fence baby quilt; similar to the one she showed at the meeting, but in different colors. She is hand quilting it block by block, in a spiral design, and it’ll be for a new baby sometime in the future. Meg was also working on her sampler quilt, which she is doing by machine, in bold colors. Surprisingly it’s taking her longer to complete the quilt than it is Marion! But the logistics of getting the sewing machine out, versus sewing by hand frequently, make the difference.

I worked on my hat brim, which is nearly complete; I’ll add beads, but not until I get home. I also showed everyone the baby onesies for Jackie, which elicited the request to come back and teach a crazy patch class. Of course I would LOVE to come back! I need to find a more universal project than the baseball cap, but I’m sure I can figure out something. Meg said her guest room would be ready by the time I came back, and I was welcome to stay there; wasn’t that lovely of her! I could probably do some gardening for Meg and Maeve as well; wouldn’t that be fun! So hopefully I’ll be organizing a working holiday the next time I come to Ireland.

As we were packing up, Maeve’s sister Elinor came in with a Lithuanian friend, who’s name I can’t remember now, of course. I am guessing that I was so overwhelmed by the quilt she brought in, that her name just flew out of my head! Made with drapery fabrics, the log cabin quilt is absolutely stunning. The planning and design are just wonderful, including fabrics cut so that the design was displayed correctly (flowers and leaves were right side up, etc.), with not a log out of place. The drapery fabrics were just a little puffy due to their weight and the fact that the seams weren’t ironed, just finger pressed, which added to the attractiveness of the overall quilt. I didn’t have the camera with me, and I was having too much fun to go get it.

I finished my packing up, and purchased a couple of cat appliqués, and then followed Meg and Holly to the Horse and Hound for lunch. We passed The Moose Bar and Lounge, but I couldn’t persuade them to stop and eat there, darn it! But to be fair, we were meeting Meg’s husband at the other pub, and it would have made things awkward. So I took pictures instead. I don’t think they served food anyway.

We had a wonderful lunch; chattering about girlie stuff and living in Ireland and who knows what all. I am really missing this kind of companionship in Fairbanks right now, which made this lunch especially fun. I’ll be widening my circle of friends at home when I get back, you can be sure of that. Dan joined us shortly, and we ordered. Great food; pub lunches have all been just delish! Eventually we all had to disperse-back home, back to work, and I went back to shopping.

Across the street from the pub was an antique store that advertised laces in their window, and of course I had to take a peek. It was an exquisite store; unfortunately they no longer had any lace. It was lovely to just wander through the tastefully arranged furniture, even though none of it would fit nor be appropriate in the cabin. Nor could I afford any of it!

I walked back down to the car and took a couple pictures of the Moose, and then walked into St. John’s Cathedral. My first Catholic church experience since I was in Europe in 1978! I’m not sure what prompted the visit… it was just time to do it. The cathedral was just as beautiful inside as it was outside. The baptismal font was ornately carved wood, and everywhere you looked there was polished wood or some kind of decorative display. The altar still had the Easter lilies and other flowers, and there was also a small indoor garden with a fountain. It was a sunny day, so the stained glass windows were just brilliant, glowing colors. Someone was busy doing some odds and ends in the church, and though it was peaceful when he’d leave the room, his hustle and bustle was not conducive to contemplation. I did have a few quiet moments to myself though, and spent some time meditating on a couple of issues.

Next I drove over to King John’s Castle. I was in no mood to take photographs, so the camera stayed in the car. I’m sorry you won’t get to see inside the castle, but I really enjoyed wandering around without the weight around my neck, and going snapsnapsnap every two minutes. Many displays of medieval tools and life, including the process of minting coins. King John’s Castle is what I’ve been led to believe a castle looks like; the parapets are something I need on the cabin! Yeah, right ☺

The castle is undergoing considerable archaeological work and there were several displays relating to that. Eventually they will be open to the public as part of the castle, but for now we get to see how archaeologists work. I really liked going through the castle, but I feel like I’ve seen enough interpretive displays to last me for several years!

I was in kind of a contemplative mood (left over from being in the church?) and finally grabbed the camera, and walked across the Shannon River (right next to the castle) and down to the next bridge. It’s an interesting mix of ancient and new; watching kayakers practicing their skills on a riffle in the river, under the shadow of Robin Hood’s nemesis, King John (or so the clerk at the liquor store told me). Cars going over bridges that were once full of knights and knaves and horses and carts.

The next bridge had a house along one side. I thought it must be some kind of gatehouse or tollhouse, and maybe it was, in a previous life. Now though, it belongs to the Shannon Rowing Club, which thoroughly surprised me. I would love to live above the river! But this is a very busy road, and I think the traffic noises would get annoying very quickly. Anyway, it was a beautiful structure; I’m quite jealous of the rowing club members!

It was sprinkling once again, so I stuffed the camera into the pocket of my polar fleece pullover and trotted off to the car. Once again, I was happy to see the windscreen empty of any parking ticket, as I hadn’t found the box where you buy a parking pass. I didn’t have any trouble negotiating through the traffic and only stopped to buy what we’ve been referring to as cough medicine or preventive care… a bottle of Bushmill’s Irish whiskey. The clerk wanted to know if I’d visited King John’s Castle yet, and when I said yes, told me that Robin Hood was rumored to have lived around here. This is possibly the King John that Robin Hood stole from, but there’s no proof that Robin Hood is anything but a myth. When we were discussing this at dinner, Sheila mentioned that often someone who disagrees with, or is in opposition to the current administration, is sometimes expunged from historical records, and that may be why there’s no record of Robin Hood. I prefer to think that Robin and Friar Tuck actually walked across the bridge that I walked across.

I had a wonderful day, but a somewhat melancholy one. I’m not really homesick, but I am missing Gizmo and not getting lost and my own cozy nest. I love Ireland and someday, when Gizzy is playing Frisbee and chasing balls in upstairs, I will come back and live here for a year. I never thought I’d find another Alaska; another place that I would feel at home in, and comfortable with, but Ireland is like Alaska, in that sense, for me. It’s so different! And I can’t describe why it fits, but it does. Climate-wise, it’s much like California or Oregon in the winter; wet and windy with that sunny now, rain-in-a-minute weather. Green and lush and muddy unless you’re on a gravel road. Contradictory; history and modern all piled up together, and sometimes it’s hard to separate the old from the new, other times it’s ugly, and sometimes the mashup works wonderfully.

It’s been a hugely eye-opening experience. It’s been so long since I’ve done any traveling, other than going to the lower 48. And living with five other women; whooo boy, that was a scary thought! But we have been remarkably patient and kind with each other, and although being independent of the group has been a little awkward, it was never unpleasant. I never felt “other” in the group, just independent, which is probably why I never got uptight or cranky like I’ve done in the past. I had plenty of solitude and quiet, and time to replenish my spirit without having to say a thing to anyone. Wonderful trip, and only four more days to see Ireland…

I haven’t finished adding photos-will probably do that in the airport on Monday morning. Until then-enjoy!

Tuesday, March 25
Craggaunowen, Knappogue Castle, and Quin Abbey

I started out the morning by going to the internet café in Limerick, and lucky me, the one I’ve used before wasn’t open yet. I found another place that was much nicer; cleaner and the clerk was actually helpful and friendly. It was quiet and no one looked like they might belong in jail. I got quite a bit done, and I’ll be back to finish up tomorrow.

I’d planned to go back to the Limerick Quilt Centre and visit with Maeve and her class, but I spent too long uploading photos and blog posts, and it was after 11 a.m. when I left. So I hooked it to the grocery store, underneath the carpark where I’d left the car, and did some shopping. Going to pay for my parking, I discovered I’d lost my ticket, and lucky me again, there was a parking attendant. He gave me a very scornful look when I said I’d lost my ticket, but he gave me another one without any trouble, so I paid for it and shot out of there.

I went to another historical theme park today; Craggaunowen. The park and grounds were donated to Ireland by their creator and founder, John Hunt, an advisor to Sotheby’s on medieval art, and depicts life in pre-Christian and early Christian eras. The carpark abuts the sheep pasture, holding Soay sheep; I thought they were goats! I started with the the tea shop, and had a scone to soften the pangs of hunger. It had the huge fireplace with a pile of burning peat and was keeping the dining room toasty (at least it was toasty if you were close to the fire!).

The castle was the start of the tour, so I walked up the stairs and went in. No drawbridge this time, but also no signs saying you couldn’t take take pictures. This castle is smaller than the Bunratty castle, and much more homey, less formal. The stairs were a tiny bit wider and not quite as steep, though I still held the railing pretty tightly! I saw the murder hole this time; it’s safely fenced off and has a Plexiglas cover. It’s right over the front hall; apparently boiling oil was poured on unwelcome guests just after they walked in. Couldn’t they just say “stay out” or “get away, you varlet!” or some such thing? Yikes, hope I’m never invited to a castle!

There were several weaving displays in the front room, and oddly enough, some turtle shells hanging on the wall. Huge elk? antlers hanging in the Great Hall, over a beautiful carved thingie. Sorry, I don’t remember what it is! I went up the stairs, all the way to the parapets. There’s a very narrow walkway around the top of the castle, with the requisite gorgeous views of the surrounding countryside. I managed to lean over and get one picture of the roof below, but that was all I could manage.

I really enjoyed the Crannog, a reconstructed lake dwelling. A crannog is an artificial island, built up with layers of stone, brush, tree trunks, and sometimes old dugout canoes, on the lakebed. Wooden pilings secured this pile of stuff, and then it was allcovered with a layer of earth and sand. Then a cute little cone shaped (or oval) house was built, with a thatched roof. I loved the little bridge going to the house.

Next you walk by an Iron Age field with a raised bed, that is called a ridge. Ireland’s signature rainfall made the ridge necessary, for drainage, and potatoes are still grown this way. Further down the path is a small bit of an Iron Age road, called the Togher. This bit was excavated from Corlea Bog, County Longford, and moved to Craggaunowen.

Walking around is worth the price of admission all on it’s own. The landscaping is completely natural, or at least it appears natural. Moss everywhere; I am sure that’s natural! Several varieties of trees; yeah, I read the sign, but I don’t remember what they are now! There is also a sign that says to keep an eye out for trees that are in the process of being shaped, but I didn’t see any.

The hunter’s cooking site was cool. It’s a pit that holds water and they put heated stones into the water. When the water was boiling, they’d put a piece of straw-wrapped venison in, and let it cook. After everything had cooled, they’d toss the water and the stones, all broken up by now, over the wall of the pit. Gosh, that must have taken forever to cook dinner! Talk about your long day in the kitchen-the microwave never sounded so good before!

I passed by a stone drain and a tomb. The tomb was just a pile of rocks. I am guessing that when the body was placed inside, there would be one last stone placed to close it up and keep wild animals out.

The ring fort was awesome! Enclosed in a wooden pole stockade the little houses were very compact and dark. The thatched roof was supported by a single pole. Cooking was done outside. And there was a souterrain!

Souterrains are underground passages that were mainly used for food storage, because of the constant temperature. I actually went down and through the souterrain, and didn’t get claustrophobic. Probably because of the electric lights and the shortness of the tunnel!

Dad would have loved St. Brendan’s boat. This one is a replica, built by Tim Severin in 1976, and the trip he took in this boat proved that St. Brendan could have crossed the Atlantic. It’s a leather hulled boat that is flexible enough to go through icefloes; the leather appears to be tarred as it’s quite hard but still malleable. The crew could patch the boat by having one guy hang over the side of the boat (in the water!) and another one inside, sewing a leather patch to make the repair. I wouldn’t like to be the guy hanging over the edge in the water!

The boars are the last exhibit, and you smell them long before you see them. The first pen I saw was mud covered rocks; those boars must have really tough feet! There were two paddocks with wild boars in them, with a very strong fence. No signs saying not to feed them, but they just ignored me, so I guess no one’s dumb enough to try feeding them. After visiting the shop, I got back in the car to go to Knappogue Castle.

1809 and 1814
Knappogue Castle turned out to be closed; it won’t open until April. I did get to go through the walled garden though, with the gardener as my tour guide. All the plant species in the walled garden were in the original garden, is my understanding. I wish I’d taken notes; the gardener pointed out several plants that were used for healing, and a couple used for poisoning enemies. Artichokes grow there! As well as sage, rosemary, thyme, St. John’s wort, roses, apples, and lots more. The man that showed me around is the only gardener, though he does have help in the summer. Fascinating character!

1826 and 1841
I stopped at Quin for lunch, at the Abbey Pub, before going through Quin Abbey. The abbey is a ruin, with graves throughout the grounds. Inside the abbey are a few graves, and some crypts. Most of it is locked up; I suppose to prevent vandalism. It must have been a beautiful abbey when it was functioning.

It must have been “Talk to Edie Day” today, as everywhere I went, I met up with people who just wouldn’t let me in peace. I enjoyed talking with them, but I really wanted some quiet time. Ah well, it’s nearly my last chance to listen to the Irish. At Craggaunowen, I spoke with the dad and mom towing two little boys through the park. He told me about a book written by an Irishman about Alaska… Four Quarters of Light (http://www.lovereading.co.uk/book/784/Four-Quarters-of-Light-by-Brian-Keenan.html) The author had been held hostage in Lebanon I believe, for seven years and went to Alaska to clear his head. I’ll try to find it and read it.

My next conversationalist was the gardener at Knappogue Castle. I wish I had taken notes while he showed me around! This plant is poisonous and was used in medeival times to coat weapons; this one was used by the French to do the same thing but had a different effect. This plant soothes the stomach and realigns your body chemistry. This one… so much information, and I just listened! Aargh…

I stopped to eat lunch at The Abbey, a pub in Quin. I asked this elderly woman if I could get a meal in the pub, or did I need to go to the restaurant? This opened up a flood of information and questions, and we chatted throughout my wait for lunch, until she finished her pint. She left with a promise from me to send her a tee shirt from Alaska (a very large one please!), and the admonition to not mention where I met her, as her husband didn’t drink or smoke anymore, and didn’t like anyone else to either. Well, it was all fun; I really enjoyed visiting with everyone. And the house was quiet when I got home, so that was all the silence I needed to restore my sense of humor.

Monday, March 24
Hiking to Killaloe

I slept until 9 a.m. this morning! Holey cow, that’s the latest I’ve managed to sleep the whole trip! Much cooler in the room with my door open; I generally wake up sweaty and hot, so I might try leaving the door open tonight too. I ate some breakfast, wrote for awhile, and then Dee came and got me, and off we went to drop off one car in Killaloe. We all piled into mine to go to the start of the trail, which was really a very narrow road; just one car wide. Tony came with us; he’d planned to do a tiling job, but couldn’t get into the house he was supposed to work on.

It was a lovely easy hike that took about two and a half hours. A couple of tractors, a fuel truck, and two or three cars went by us on the way up, which Tony and Dee thought was an unusual amount of traffic. Sometimes a bit difficult to get off the road, but almost everyone slowed way down to pass us. Wonderful scenery along the whole hike; you could see a good deal of the countryside despite the cloudy damp weather.

At the mountain top, it was all heather and peat. Tony explained that the peat acts like a giant sponge and releases the water over the summer, and that’s why, even though we haven’t had much rain over the last few days, the pastures are still very wet and muddy. The heather will be in bloom soon, and it’ll be purple instead of the dark brown that it is now.

A few people live up this road; mostly farms, but there was an old schoolhouse turned into a home as well. The first part we walked through was being logged; the trees will be turned into pulp for pressboard. We saw evidence of cattle on the road, but none bothered us. Tony had his walking stick just in case though. Apparently they can be a bit dangerous.

We stopped in Ballina, just across the river, for lunch. Dee had wanted to stop at a place in Killaloe, but it had already closed, so Tony grumbled (just teasing though!) and drove across the one lane bridge with six zillion stoplights and we ate at one of the hotels. Very fancy place; I wouldn’t have gone in there on my own! It was an enjoyable late lunch of grilled cheese sandwiches and a creamy vegetable soup. Dee needed to stop at the market, so we did a little grocery shopping on the way home. There’s a lovely children’s store in the same shopping center, so we looked in the window at a darling little girl’s dress that Dee wants for her granddaughter.

I had a wonderful hike today. Dee and Tony are fun to be around, and good conversationalists. They’re planning to come to Alaska next September, and I’m looking forward to showing them a bit of Fairbanks if they get up my way. And now I’m caught up, for a day anyway, with the blog!

Sunday, March 23
Bunratty Castle and Folk Park

Miss Braindead decided to do her laundry this morning before leaving, instead of waiting til after dinner when it’s dark and she could be relaxing, so I didn’t get off til around 11 a.m. Bunratty Castle and Folk Park is a total tourist trap, but you get a capsule Irish history lesson by walking around the park, so I felt it was worth wrestling with the other tourons for a view of the castle and grounds. At 15 euro it was rather expensive to get in, but afterwards I decided it was worth every euro. Bunratty Castle has an involved history of being built here, torn down, rebuilt a short distance away and burned down, then rebuilt again, ignored and fallen into disrepair, and then finally restored in the 1970’s to what it is now.

There are 15 or so different residences, including a Georgian manor house, several farmhouses from different counties, a fisherman’s house, laborer’s home, and a small village with different businesses. They are all completely authentic and have been moved from their original location to the folk park and restored. There’s also a church, a collection of old farm equipment, a walled garden, two different mills, pigsties, hay ricks, and wandering around are an assortment of hens and roosters. Goats and sheep are in pastures, and there is even a pair of soft friendly Wolfhounds in a pen for visitors to pet. In the summer there’s a policeman, a school teacher at the school, a pony cart and driver, and other folks all dressed in period costumes. The teacher will even sit you in the corner for being bad, as one of Tony’s guests found out!

One thing that struck me about most of the farmhouses, was the size of the fireplace. It generally took up a full wall of the house and was as large as a modern-day walk-in closet. Some of the houses had a peat fire going; I didn’t notice any smoky smell or stink to the houses. From my perspective (remember that my cabin is only 12 x 24 feet), most of the houses were quite large. Some had two or three bedrooms; one would be on the ground floor, the rest usually reached with the aid of a ladder. They all had a cupboard or hutch for the china, and furniture; very nicely appointed with curtains and bedspreads, etc.

The castle was a rabbit’s warren of rooms that you reach by means of a non-functioning drawbridge. You go into the dining area where the medieval dinners are held; that’s the Main Guard. Above that is the Great Hall, which is huge; there was a firepit in the center of the room but no chimney. I guess the room was large enough that the smoke would just disperse? Lots of ornately carved wood; a huge chandelier of elk antlers; several tapestries hung on the walls. Signs everywhere asking people not to take flash photos, which virtually everyone ignored; I said something to a couple people, but they just didn’t care. And I only took the one of the drawbridge mechanism, though there were a number of objects I would have loved to photograph.

Going up to the parapets, and the rooms (on the outer edge of the castle) was a bit challenging. The stairways are very steep and narrow, and go up (or down) in a spiral; the steps are high, and look slippery. I don’t think I’d want to be one of the servants in that castle! Usually just one or two rooms at each tiny landing, but the Earl’s family apartments were quite large, and included the Earl’s private chapel. Going down those tiny narrow staircases, I held on tightly to the iron bars that served as railings. I wouldn’t want to visit in the summer, with a lot of people going through the castle; you had to wait for anyone already on the stairs, as it was too narrow for two people.

Walking around the folk park was fun; there weren’t many people and it was a beautiful sunny day. Chickens making chicken noises everywhere, but the sheep, pigs, and goats all stayed in pens. The pigs were very hopeful of a bite to eat, but I didn’t have anything to give them. The walled garden will be beautiful when everything starts blooming; right now it’s at that ugly plain stage where everything’s been trimmed up and all the cut edges are showing. When I was photographing the church, this grumpy old fart looked at me and just refused to move; he was so obviously staying there just to irk me that I had to laugh at him. I got my people-less photo despite him.

I was getting pretty hungry, so I finished walking through the park. Exiting the park sends you through the shop, for obvious reasons, but I wanted postcards and hopefully a book about the castle and folk park, so I was happy to look around. I found what I wanted and went in search of food. Dirty Nell’s is the pub right next to the park, but it was crowded and I really wanted some piece and quiet and food Right Now, so it didn’t seem the place for me. Across the street, where my car was parked, had a couple of shops, one of which had cafeteria style dining, so that’s what I opted for. Soup and a roll, and a piece of lemon cake satisfied me.

I headed north, towards Ennis, to look for a ruin I’d seen the day before. It was right along the highway and I wanted pictures. Darned if I could find it again though, so I just kept driving. I finally decided to turn around; it wasn’t like I wanted to go all the way to Galway today! Driving into Ennis I saw my ruin, which turned out to be Clare Abbey. I drove up to the gates across the railroad tracks and parked, and walked through two little people gates; designed to let people, but not cows, through.

The abbey must have been beautiful in it’s day. I thought it was still fascinating. A number of people are buried there; some quite recently. It’s still consecrated ground, and although I think it’s a little weird to be buried in an open-air church, hey, it’s not me that makes the rules around here. It was a huge building; or at least I’m guessing that it was all one building at some point. There was a small bit that looked like a chapel, but the door is walled in now. When I finished photographing Clare Abbey, I tootled on home, and got lost of course. I took some roundabout way, but eventually made it back to Bodyke and on home.

I stopped over at Tony and Dee’s, as Dee had mentioned that she’d take me on a walk to Killaloe the next day, and I wanted to check on the time we’d go. Well, three glasses of wine later! I went back to my house to cook some dinner, soak in my seaweed bath, and make a mess of the house. Sewing and computer stuff everywhere… ah well, I’ll get it cleaned up before the crew comes back from their overnight to the Giant’s Causeway.

Saturday, March 22
Beaches and dinner with Meg

I started out my day by going to Ennis, to check on the restaurant I found the other day, and see if it was open. I was planning to swing by on the way to Meg’s for dinner, and check/respond to email. Along a part of the road that was actually wide enough to be comfortable driving on, I saw an old lady hitchhiking. I couldn’t leave her to battle the chilly wind, so I stopped and gave her a ride, wondering if I was going to get myself into some kind of mess.

She turned out to be a delightfully interesting person. She was going into Ennis to busk – sing for your supper basically! Buskers are street musicians (I suppose they could be poets or writers or mimes as well?) and will set up their instruments, a chair, and a donation box (often a hat), and start playing. She divided her time between Colombia, I believe, and Ireland, spoke excellent Spanish. I couldn’t resist practicing just a bit. She had just finished her first CD; quite a process to making a music CD. You start out by learning to use a metronome, as your music must be precisely timed because later you’ll add the singing. All done solo; each track is laid down separately. Once each track is recorded (there might be more than one instrument), then you put it all together. She recited one of the songs she’d written; it was about busking, and quite descriptive. I really enjoyed visiting with her, and was kind of sorry it wasn’t a longer ride. Having a local with me made finding parking much easier! So I found that the restaurant would be open later, and off I went to the beach.

I drove up to Ennistimon, where of course I passed the turn to Lahinch, so I stopped and wandered up and down the street for a bit. One of the few places I’ve seen streetside parking where you park straight into the sidewalk (as opposed to parallel parking). And it appeared to be free as well, another rarity! I found a very nice little shop with some arty things and some cute things; I left with an awesome wool scarf that turned out to be quite itchy; should have tried it on first! But I think a little fabric softener and some cold water will take care of the itchyness.

I drove through Lahinch with no problem, except that I saw a bookstore, so I had to stop and see if they might have a flower book. And I was in luck! I took a few photos of the beach there, but it didn’t look like there’d be good beachcombing, so I didn’t walk down to the sand. Lots of surfers; I passed a surf shop walking down to the bookstore, with a crew of them just getting ready to cross the street. I think there were six or eight of them, all dressed in wetsuits and carrying identical blue boards. They were all linked up, carrying boards in both hands; I should have grabbed a photo of that, but the camera was in the car.

Once I left the bookstore with my flower book, I poked through a couple of woolen shops, but didn’t find anything to bring home. Before getting back in the car, I took a few photos of the beach, then headed on south.

I saw a little sign to White Strand; it was only one kilometer, so I thought what the hey, let’s check it out. White Strand turned out to be a nice little beach with an almost empty carpark. I didn’t find any shells to pick up, but the rocky area was just a treat to walk through; very carefully, as there was quite a bit of seaweed and the rocks were wet in some places. There was a lot of seaweed on the sandy beach; brought up by the storm the day before I guessed.

I saw a number of brown/dark brown wet slimy looking lumps before I finally decided they must be sea anemones. None of them were in any of the tiny tidepools I found though. I didn’t stir up any fish when I poked through the seaweed either. Lots of limpets and small snails, and I found a large population of small mussels on one rock too. I was a little more conscious of the time today, since I was meeting Meg and her husband Dan for dinner later, so I decided to shove off and continue south.

I stopped at Spanish Point, just west of Milltown Malbay, but there was surprisingly few shells there too. A few surfers though, and best of all, a clean bathroom with toilet paper! So it was worth stopping in the carpark and wandering around on the sand for a good twenty minutes. The beach was a bit unusual, in that the sand was not flat; it was sculpted into small pools and mounds. I found several spots that were somewhat like quicksand, and I sank into them a little, which prompted me to head for higher ground that was more solid. There was a tiny rocky head that I would have explored if I’d felt confident that I wouldn’t slip and fall, but it was just wet enough with enough seaweed, that I could see slipping on it. So off I went again, this time back to Ennis, via Creegh/Kilrush/Lissycassey.

I parked, on the street again, and paid for an hour’s parking. I’d hoped my two Euro coin would buy two hours, but nope, it didn’t, and I didn’t get any change either! That’ll learn me, I guess! To get change, I went up to the Hughes and Hughes (similar to Barnes & Noble), and found-of all things, I couldn’t believe I could go in there and look around for two minutes and find Complete Irish Wildlife! It isn’t as complete as I would like, but it does have a lot of information on plants and wildlife, so it was a good buy.

I found the restaurant with not much trouble, and sat down. The waitress kind of ignored me, as I had the computer going and she didn’t realize I wanted to eat. I was ready to eat the table by the time she took my order! I got all my email read (or all that I wanted to read anyway!) and answered, played my daily crossword, and inhaled my food before going back to the car. I expected a parking ticket because I was a little late, but apparently the parking goddess was smiling on me, and the windshield was bare of any little bits of paper.

Now I was off to the other side of Limerick, to find Meg and Dan’s renovation project. I had a fairly good idea where to go, as I would take the same highway turnoff as for the Limerick Racetrack. Given that I would be looking for a house though, I gave myself plenty of time for getting lost. And getting close to their house turned out to be easy, but as “they” say, the devil is in the details! I called Meg for last minute instructions, and after going too far and turning around and around again, I finally found it.
Meg and Dan are renovating an old servant’s quarters, that was originally part of Lord Clarina’s estate. It’s a duplex (but I don’t think that’s what they call it), that they’ve added a beautiful living room on to. Now it’s a matter of doing all the finish work-the painting, finishing up the trim, finishing/refinishing the floors, fitting out the kitchen-all the stuff that’ll make the house beautiful when it’s done, but isn’t much fun to do because it’s time consuming. They share a studio that is at one end of the carriage house (not attached to the house), where the horses were stabled. Because of the renovation project, the studio is housing boxes and furniture and those odds and ends that you have in your house and need to put somewhere while you are painting etc., so it’s rather a mess, but it was wonderful to see someone else’s work area and share the frustration of having to move this to get to that.

I think Dan is primarily a photographer, but Meg showed me some of his three dimensional work that was quite intriguing. I forgot to ask if he has a website, but I’ll check into that and add it later. Meg is primarily a print maker, but she has a body of fiber work (printed) too. She also showed me some mosaics from a workshop she taught to 13-16 year olds a few weeks ago. Unfortunately we didn’t have much time to go through the studio and look at artwork, as we were expected for dinner at Dolf and Orla’s shortly.

This time I rode with Meg and Dan, but I was so busy talking to them that I didn’t see where we went or much of the countryside. Sadly, we had to stop and wait for some debris from a horrible accident to be cleaned up. There was a young man standing by one of the cars with his hands behind his back; I am fairly sure he was handcuffed. One car was upside down in the other lane; the occupant(s?) of the car didn’t seem to be there, so I’m sure they were on their way to the hospital. This is why U.S. insurers won’t cover you in Ireland; the accident rate is very high, due to the speed at which many people travel, drinking, and the windy narrow roads with the occasional (far too often really) sign saying “hidden driveway”. Meg also said the young lads will soup up their cars and drive even faster. Dan, by the way, is one of the saner drivers, so I had nothing to worry about.

Crossing the highway, we’d seen a line of travel trailers. Meg asked if I knew about travelers, and I said yes, a little. They’re the Gypsies; instead of traveling in horse drawn wagons, they have caravans and cars. Isn’t caravan much more romantic than travel trailer? They have a hard time finding a spot to park their caravans; I’ve seen a couple of signs saying no overnight camping, which seems to be specifically for the travelers. And here I am, with a blog called Luck O’ the Irish Traveler! Well, I didn’t know!

The evening at Orla and Dolf’s was fantastic! A scrumptious dinner of mashed potatoes and sauerkraut, beef stew made with a delicious red wine, chicken, and carrots and turnips chopped and mixed together, with a lovely carrot cake from Meg. Kieran was there too (a different one than from the set dancing); he’s a painter and had brought by two pastels for Dolf and Orla; they were going in the dining room. Beautiful colors; I really liked them.

After dinner Dolf was persuaded to play the bodhrán (bow – ron) for us, an Irish drum. There are several different sticks to use, each of course making a different sound. He also played the accordian for us as well. Orla sang a couple of songs, accompanied by the squeeze box. Dolf used to play for set dancing, although he hasn’t done it in awhile. He explained that set dancing is quite different in County Limerick, from the dancing I did in County Claire, exactly as Tony and Dee said. Great conversation; we talked about everything under the sun. I drove back to Meg and Dan’s with them, and then onto Broadford by myself. Quite chilly by now too.