OLD TIMERS

'Old Timers' are the many vernacular cottages and often deserted homes scattered across our rural landscape. The photo's that follow are a selection of some of the buildings in three counties.

Beneath the shroud of greenery lies a once handsome cottage with a tiled roof.

It caught my eye twenty odd years ago and I often wondered if anyone would appreciate its very private location and buy it, nobody did so nature has now taken over.

This one too has always attracted me. There were once figures on the porch roof but since the recent clean up they have sadly disappeared. I wonder if a 'For Sale' sign will shortly be seen, for it has a useful level field behind and would make a good wee home for someone with the energy to care for the place.

No hope for this old home I guess as it is only a couple feet from a busy road.

This old timer has seen it's folks move way and the present owner can see no value

in even maintaining it as a useful store. It is very sad to see unwarranted neglect.

A long house where music and yarns would have almost lifted the rafters off whilst the owners jigged the night away.

Once referred to as an Irish cabin, most likely thatched and now sheeted over with corrugated iron, then converted to a shed: the doorway increased in width to accommodate cattle.

All is not lost for this old gatehouse is now occupied and provides a sturdy home

for it's owners.

Yet another gatehouse that we often pass by. 

This was the original gate lodge for Castle Bernard, renamed Kinnitty Castle.

 The present entrance and driveway is now at Beech Lodge.

East of Griffiths Bridge

This time we view the activities at the eastern side of the bridge

which are very different, from my first visit of twenty-five years ago

and am pleased to see the new berths with the modern services.

The sturdy road bridge at Shannon Harbour called Griffith’s Bridge was named after Richard Griffiths one of the directors of the Canal company who built the

Grand Canal.

This beautiful steam launch named Maggie caught my eye and I would very much liked to have removed the cover and viewed her details, which I imagine are excellent.

Nice touch to see a bucket of flowers at the end of the pontoon!

 Look at this beauty with her almost vertical stem and bulwarks along with a pulpit rail.

Once again my admiration goes to her owner for having such a ship-shape craft.

Having mentioned the pulpit guard rail there is an error in believing that a stern guard rail is a pushpit rail, this completely wrong for both are pulpit rails and pulpit means a place where a person may lean on a speak from - ok lecture over.

Further upstream all manner are craft are moored along the bank.

Those tall buildings (ruin) are all that remains of the Grand Hotel that was built to accommodate travellers and patrons of the Grand Canal in late 19th century.

More moored boats !

I have not yet finished with Shannon Harbour as you will

see in my next blog post.

BEAUTIFUL BLOOMS

The title says it all, for the Slieve Blooms are beautiful, especially when the heather is out. This year it carpets the land with a purple blanket that burns the eyes. We are very fortunate to be living where we do close to Sliabh Bladhma [Irish name]. 

This photo was taken from The Ridge of Capard looking towards the east and on the skyline several ancient sites sit in equal splendour. Different to us in that they are on the tourist route; I am never quite sure whether it would be good to have the same number of visitors as they do or not, it would bring about changes and they are not always beneficial.

The quiet and almost secret mountains.

Part of the Ridge of Capard is an area of scientific interest, to allow access board walks have been laid to prevent damage.

Here I captured two female photographers unaware of my actions.

A proud Grandpa with his Grandson.

A significant full moon marked the end of our family

holiday together and the eve of my daughters' birthday.

We celebrated with Prosecco, gifts and talk that went on past midnight.

VIEWS TO SOOTHE

Whenever I see this building to me it looks like a magnet.
It is in fact an old forge near a river.

Looking at this you might think the photographer was drunk, but no the
road is on the slant.

The half door to a delightful home

You could see this on a calendar. It is what we call a preserved cottage.

He was very inquisitive and friendly
until I picked up the camera!

The Banner County

“The custom of carrying banners goes back a long way in County Clare. There is little doubt but that the Dál gCais carried banners at the battle of Clontarf in 1014 or that the Clare Dragoons carried banners at Fontenot in 1745 and in the many battles fought by the Clare Regiments on the continent during the eighteenth century.”

We went on a day trip recently to re-visit one of our favourite counties, as there are so many  antiquities dotted around the countryside we still have not viewed them all. The one thing I learnt a long time ago, when looking for interesting vistas or ancient sites, is that when touring you need to slow down, drive carefully and be adventurous. The best type of narrow roads to take are those with a thin strip of grass growing up the middle as very often you will see something interesting.

This is how we found ourselves outside (1) Smithstown Castle and on another narrow road we saw a fingerboard pointing towards the (2) Blakemount Holy Well.
This tempted Mrs H to go and find it - now doubt she will reveal all soon on her own blog.
It was on yet another narrow road, that I managed to photograph  (3) a double donut shaped erratic which had been dumped there by the last Ice Age.
Photo number (4) A Sham was found on a tourist road on the outskirts of Kilfenora, it is not an ancient monument and was only constructed recently by a local resident.
Photo (5) was taken with my new camera along the road from Callan to Ballyvaughan - said as Bally vocken not vawn.

1 smithstowncastle.com

2. Stile to Blakemount Holy Well.

3 a 'double donut' shaped erratic.

4 A Sham.

5 Along the road from Callan to Ballyvaughan.

Our circuitous route took us from Gort in Co.Galway along the R460 towards a small town of Corrofin or is it Coroffin or perhaps Caroffin or even Corofin ? 

I mentioned to  Mrs H on our way in that I wondered which spelling was correct because every imaginable spelling could be seen on signposts and billboards. I also wondered if the local business people had found a new method of attracting trade or perhaps their signwriters  were drunk?

Well now guess what I read last night on a news channel..

“Local groups have formed in the towns of Lahinch, Ennistymon, and Corofin, with each group set write to Clare County Council later this week, to officially begin the legal process of changing the towns’ names. The local authority has confirmed it is the appropriate agency to deal with this issue and that a local vote, similar to that held in Dingle in 2006, may also be required.

This situation arose more than five years ago when Transport Infrastructure Ireland, formally the NRA, contracted Clare County Council to update signage on the N67 tourism route.

At this time the official legal spelling of the towns, which was derived from documentation written before the formation of the state, was used to replace the traditional local spellings which had appeared on all signage for the past 100 years.”

My online research says this :The origin of Name: Corofin takes its name from the Irish ‘Coradh Finne’ which means ‘The Weir of Finnia’.

So there we have it:Transport Infrastructure/National Roads Authority and Clare County Council please take note!

The Noble Toby & Garden Workers

Toby keeping watch .

Looking after my people

Is That Biscuits ?

Garden workers from the UK moving the logs

At play with Granny

Old Ways

The old homesteads in the landscape of Ireland are very distinct and give a hint of the old ways of living, being close to the earth and open to the elements.

The first abode is a Rath which was built as a pre Christian settlement complete with a defensive ditch, similar to the Norman motte and bailey but with a lower mound. 

Part profile of a Rath

The defensive ditch strewn with fallen timber, which

the owners are generally loath to remove, for fear of

retribution by the faeries which now inhabit this place.

Part of the top of the Rath which is now scattered with thorn trees.

An old mountain cottage now derelict believed to have been occupied by a forester and his family, consisting of four or five rooms, it has a pathway leading to a stream from where the family would have drawn water.  It is located in a glen between steep mountain sides. As attractive as it looks in sunshine. Living there would have been an entirely different matter for the damp and the cold would have seeped through it's stone walls.

This picture shows a group of New Travellers in their bow-topped wagons camped on the edge of bogland during the winter. Sadly this way of life has now been denied, due to the local authorities closing off the old camp sites. Many are the happy hours that I enjoyed when sitting around the fire drinking tea and yarning on my frequent visits.

Photo taken early 1990's

If you think that your family has never been labelled as a Gypsy then look here
http://rtfhs.org.uk/useful-links-genealogy-sources/
or
http://website.lineone.net/~rtfhs/journal2.html
and here
https://www.familytreedna.com/groups/celtic-traveller/about/background

My Journey

Woodbine/Honeysuckle

I don't know what this is except that it grows

in clumps along the road below .

The old long road.

My Journey

I took a walk along the road to see what I could see

wildflowers peeped out and wild bees sung too me

All the while the sun shone gently down over my head 

above it crows and small brown birds flew in warm air.

A hen cackled, a cock crowed in some small stone yard

in the distance a dog barked, I listened to natural sound

Delighted to be me and to stroll in harmony, stopping

here and there to rest or peer through hedgerows.

I saw through bright leaves two heavy horses grazing

one as black as turf, the other dune coloured sand.

I dreamed of a four wheeled bow-top on open road

the clop of hooves, the waft of a tail swinging gently.

A camp site by a slow stream with friends at a wood fire

black tea in my hand, the chatter and companionship.

Perfumed as we were by wild bright colourful woodbine

Lives now only in cherished memory, all gone now, gone.

Awake once more to reality, I turn find a place to sit

fill my old briar pipe to offer smoke as a tribute.

On rising the legs are renewed, the feet soothed

as I take the long road for my cottage home.

© MRL June 2015

Mrs & Mr Chicken - variety unknown

Clover

Soapwort

Dog Roses

Rainbow Cottage

For umpteen years this old cottage has been white all over. The place has been crying out for redecoration for awhile now;so this time we put our thinking heads on and have decided to added a bit of colour to the old walls: using Sheffield Green on the window cills and wall tops, Harvest Gold on the walls and White in the window recesses.

So here am I at the end of the first day taking my ease with my pipe in the evening sunshine feeling at peace with the world knowing that the paint scheme is working well.

We were delighted to find that Mrs H had unknowingly captured a band of rainbow beams

falling over the roof (top right of photo) for our place is known as Rainbow Cottage.

I just hope that the present dry sunny weather lasts out enabling us to complete our task.

The Moving finger

I have been sitting at my desk looking at the above photo above for several days now.

The scene is peaceful and tranquil, depicting the slow moving waters of the River Barrow which flows through Glenbarrow in the Slieve Blooms, whose low mountains are shared by two counties: Laois and Offaly.

That young boy in blue, I was told, is left handed and yet here he is pointing with the index finger of his right hand. I cannot help but wonder whether he might have inherited a trait of one of his great-grandfathers in being ambidextrous. 

Time will tell I suppose.

So is this another version of the 'moving finger writes and having written moves on' or is he pointing at some small creature hidden from us? I don't know.

But you my learned viewers might like to share with me what you consider he may be doing as he looks into the peaceful waters ?

Ludicrous !

New Speed Limit Sign for Minor Local Roads
A Speed Limit is the maximum legal speed, but not necessarily the safe speed at which a vehicle should be driven. It is the responsibility of a driver to obey a Speed Limit and to ensure that the vehicle speed is appropriate for the prevailing circumstances, even if that speed is lower than the Speed Limit applying.
Ireland’s road network is extensive and inconsistent, which means that a ‘one size fits all’ solution for Speed Limits for the 99,100km of road network is not possible. Additionally, Local Authorities (in conjunction with the National Roads Authority in respect of National Roads) are able to amend and set Speed Limits as appropriate and in accordance with Guidelines on Special Speed Limits for different sections of the road network as required.

Arising from the recent Speed Limit Review the Working Group recommended the introduction of a new ‘Rural Speed Limit’ sign for Local Roads, a generic sign that does not display a numeral value, to replace the 80 km/h signs on minor local roads (boreens). This new sign is a ‘black circle with diagonal which is in use internationally under the Vienna signage convention and which was used in Ireland prior to 2004. The new sign means that drivers must use their own judgement but must never exceed 80km/h in any case.

In my opinion the decision to introduce this sign was a dereliction of duty by The Minister for Transport, Tourism and Sport, Leo Varadkar TD, who launched the new sign on 19 March 2015.

It is in itself a misdemeanour, especially when one considers that most towns have an inner speed limit of 30km/h. 

This could easily have been made common for all local roads which in a lot of instances are very narrow with blind bends and are frequented by pedestrians and farmers moving animals.

The speed limits on the edges of some towns are bad enough already, when on leaving a town's outskirts with a 50km/H limit and on approaching a  roundabout the speed limit goes up to 60km/h! 

If common sense were applied it would stay the same or even go down.

Once again we shall be made a laughing stock by the rest of the world for the lack of professional comprehension by our political leaders!