It's that time of year....

It's that time of year when a load of dry hard sods are delivered to our yards from the bog and tipped handily to where it is going to be stored. This year we had a three tonne load which meant placing it in two small sheds. Fortunately a friend from a neighbouring county arrived unexpectedly and the job was completed more rapidly than it would have had we been on our own.

A three tonne heap of turf

A dusty, warming job that tests the muscles as we bend to pick up each piece, then turn and stack it to roof top height. Before reaching us men in the shed Mrs H had picked up the sods put them in a wheel-barrow and tipped them at our feet. Prior to that the people on the bog hand handled each piece at least four or five times between the drying process and the delivery. Finally from the shed to the fire they will be hefted twice more; so all in all, I calculate that each will have been handled at least eight to nine times!

Stack number one

The heat from turf (peat) is luxurious, the very distinct aroma as it burns is homely and in the winter on cold frosty nights, if you walk the roads it is to sense a welcome in the air; a similar sensation to the burning of wood smoke, for it conjures up warm comfortable images !

Stack number two

You can think of us pair warming our toes with the dog at our feet, the cats perched on the settee snoring. While Mrs H and I sit nursing a glass of homemade damson brandy each and a honey waffle in the other hand.

Where curlews sing

At times I seek out places in nature away from the maddening crowds where I can find peacefulness, rare spots on the coastline or in the countryside which provide none of the usual trappings of modern life. There are many that I have become accustomed to visiting and one which I will share is at Rine in Co. Clare, the approach is an awkward drive along a narrow boreen that passes through a farm yard to terminate on the point of a peninsula.

A Martello Tower

"War broke out between England and France in 1803 and because of past invasion attempts by the French, the British drew up plans to fortify likely landing places in Britain and around the coasts of Ireland. The principal feature being a network of fortifications to be constructed on the Coasts of England and Ireland was The Martello Tower Built under the National Defence Act 1804. Here in Ireland 50 such Towers were built." Extracted from © www.martellotowers.ie"

Here I could be found in all weathers, standing in sunshine or sat with wind and rain to my back communing with nature, hearing the music provided by coastal seabirds against the wash of the sea lapping a stony strand. I loved the lonely isolation of it all.

Heart in hand

So it was here on one of my last visits that I took a stroll and found my heart. I did not know then that it was to be my turning point or the fulcrum of a new existence.

An aorta in stone perhaps ?

This heart shaped stone even has an indentation placed roughly where the aorta would be.

****

This blog was inspired by an email conversation that I had with a follower of A Heron's View- HelenTilston: http://helentilstonpainter.blogspot.com who is a frequent visitor to a neighbouring Martello Tower on an adjacent peninsula, quite literally a couple of miles north in Co Galway.

Damn & Blast!

Unfortunately I am having big problems with my internet supplier EIRCOM, last week the internet went down on the 24th August, following a phone call to them they promised faithfully to send an engineer. Of course Ireland having a very large population 4 million + it took a second phone call to gee them up; the engineer came and failed to connect me, he contacted head office who worked wonders NOT, as a consequence of their technical ability I now have no internet connection and the phone line has packed in!

I am thinking now seeking another internet provider !

A Brough Superior SS100

This blog has been initiated by seeing a photograph on the BBC website of a motorcycle, which is to be auctioned off in California. It is a Brough Superior SS100 and the last machine that the company ever made, each motorcycle was tailor-made (designed) by George Brough to each customers specification and the last one was made in 1940.

A Brough Superior SS100

TE Lawrence [Lawrence of Arabia], the British army officer famous for his role in the Arab Revolt during the World War I, owned seven of these motorcycles and it was on one of those that he was killed in a road accident in1935 aged 46.

Now part of my time as young boy was filled with reading the account of Lawrence of Arabia's deeds in the desserts; much of which I have now forgotten, but never the man himself.

This is T.E. Lawrence's motorcycle on exhibition in the

Imperial War Museum

In 1988 I was living alone in Bournemouth and working in Poole, Dorset. After having my evening meals there was that gap of free time to be filled before going to bed, I have never been one to watch the TV much, so I used to go on reasonably long drives and sometimes just to tour around the New Forest. During this period I had heard that Lawrence was buried in Dorset and so on a summers night I decided to visit his grave. Where I found much to my surprise a very modest headstone that gave no mention of this mans great deeds.

The Grave of T.E. Lawrence

© www.moretondorset.co.uk

I think that I ought to point out that it is not T.E Lawrence's motorcycle that is being sold!

For those of you who are interested to learn more of T.E. Lawrence please visit http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/T._E._Lawrence

A HEALING WELL

Clonaslee

The other day, the weather being fine we took ourselves on a promised trip to visit a Healing Well. Our route took us through Clonaslee (Cluain na Slí) a picturesque village in north county Laois. The name means "way meadow"(road through the meadow), the way referred to was & is an important cross-country route. Clonaslee sits at the foot of the Slieve Blooms and has been almost continuously inhabited since Neolithic times.

Fr. Graham's Well

Our destination lay approximately three kilometres to the north along narrow roads, so narrow that two vehicles would be unable to pass each other, to a sparsely populated area with few houses to be seen. Father Graham's Well was clearly signposted and on turning into the cul-de-sac access road it was wonderfully wide in comparison to most of our route.

The Roots

Five steps lead down into the well where the roots of three trees can be seen just above the level of the water; the trees being Birch, Hazel and Whitethorn, an unusual combination. The well is known for having a cure for toothache, headaches and other neuralgic problems, so may be the combination of the three trees plus the mineral content of the water have more to do with healing than the goodly Father Graham.

Research has only showed one priest of that name in Clonaslee and little is known about him other than:-

'Rev. Michael Graham had been curate for a long time before being made P.P of Clonaslee. He died on 11th August 1840 and was buried in the church where an inscription after recording the date of his death says "By his will he left £300 to improve the education of the poor of the parish."

A Happy Man

A Good Surprise in Leamington Spa !

On my visit to Leamington Spa in December of last year (2010) I was very surprised to see a gleaming white temple breaking the immediate skyline, unfortunately due to the icy roads I was unable to get close enough to take a photo. However on our recent trip the weather was very different, gorgeous in fact and almost too hot: for I am now acclimatised to the much lower Irish temperatures.

The Gudwara Sahib (Sikh Temple) is built in the middle of an industrial estate. It stands out like a beautiful bright flame and as we walked closer to the building I sensed a serene energy emanating outwards; I was immediately reminded of the energy that flows outwards from the Irish stone circles that also transmit an essence of peace and tranquility that pervades the busy mind.

It being a Sunday there was a continuous service taking place, not an ideal time for having a nose

around, though I very much hope that on our next trip to visit Oliver that we shall be able to see the inside of the Temple.

I confess that I know very little about the Sikh's and of their religion even less, except that like myself they are vegetarians and generally peaceful people.

So from their web page:-

www.gurdwara-leamingtonandwarwick.co.uk

"SELF SERVICE: Sikhs Duty to Serve

SEVA is the essence of Sikhi, and it refers to 'selfless service'', that is service performed

without any thought of reward or personal benefit.

The Sikhs arriving in Leamington and Warwick in the 1950s brought with them not only their endeavour for hard work but just as importantly they brought with them the Sikh faith with its core principal of ‘Duty to serve’ not only the Sikh community but non-Sikh as well."

Oliver's Big Day

The lateness of this blog is all due to my feeling lazy since returning from the UK during the middle of last week. For it took me a couple of days to get a sense of being back at home and then came an in-dwelling of gladness for living where we do.

Only two complaints with journey: one is that Stena Line do not serve small coffees and secondly, the seating on British trains becomes very uncomfortable after one and a half hours and as our rail journey was four hours long you can imagine the relief we felt at the end of the journey. Next time we shall take a cushions.

The Big Day of Oliver's Naming Ceremony arrived and about forty guests gathered in Helen and Mark's back garden, most of whom were seated under the open sided marquee thus avoiding the hot sun.

Haley on tenor sax!

The ceremony started with a few tunes from Haley (a school friend of Helen's) who came up from Somerset with her family plus musical instruments, a tenor saxophone and clarinet. Her music eased us all into the right frame of mind.

The ceremony was conducted by Sylvia Summer, a Humanist Life Rites Celebrant, who brought everyone together in such a pleasant way that there was a friendly corporate-ness between us all.

Helen, Oliver, Mark and Sylvia

Poor Oliver fell asleep but regardless we carried on with the ceremony to completion. His parents had bought an Olive tree to mark the occasion and we all tied small cards on to it's branches. On these each of us wrote our wishes for him in the future; the idea being that when he is much older he will be able to read them for himself and take onboard our thoughts. Or not.

The Olive Tree

Oliver's Grandparents brought water from their home areas or favorite places. So the waters came from Corfu, Chalice Well Glastonbury, Warwickshire and ours from the River Barrow in Co. Laois. The waters were then mingled and sprinkled around the base of the tree as a symbol of our joint commitment to Oliver.

For myself it was good to meet Helen and Mark's friends and relations, my ex-relations and a couple of my long lost relations - I no longer feel quite so alone :-D

As a regular ritualist I felt that Sylvia created & conducted an excellent celebration, the memory of which will always remain within me - no higher praise can I give her and I hope that she manages to read this blog with one of her wonderful smiles.

Two wonderful squealers

Oliver - The Swinger

LORIE and HARVEY

My last blog was about gifts and by far the greatest gift to my mind is to find a companion with whom we have such a mutual attraction and desire to share our lives.

Some people are fortunate enough to have this event happen just once in their life, others like myself have

during our later years achieved the joy of finding for a second time around a person of such great loving

depths with whom we can shout out aloud for all the world to hear

'Yes this is the Love of My Life !'

The Newlyweds: Lorie and Harvey

On receiving the news of their recent marriage I was truly delighted for them both.

My blessing to them is that they may enjoy a life of goodness and quality together.

Three Different Gifts!

A gift of surprise:-

The other day I was sitting in my normal place tapping away on the mac, doing some research in regards to water quality, when a vehicle that I only barely recognised reversed into the north drive to disappear from sight.

My consternation at having my concentration broken was nullified for on opening the door, there stood before me was a friend of long standing (whom we rarely see) who said 'I have a gift for you'.

Mrs H and I were equally stunned for neither of us were expecting a gift, let alone one of such magnitude. A brief discussion took place and it was decided that the garden room would be the proper place for it's installation.

A large cast iron pot belly stove

A precious gift:-

Mrs H and I are off on our travels again next week, not Scotland this time, but to England, for a very important occasion and family gathering, it being the official Humanist Naming Ceremony of our one and only grandchild.

Mrs H isn't very fond of flying. No 'fond' is definitely the wrong word. Mrs H actually hates flying ! What I dislike about flying is having to hang around for hours waiting to take off; I really think that they ought to be like a train service where there is hardly any delay.

Our mode of travel on this trip will be gentle and relaxed. From home to the ferry port by car, leaving Peggy (our car) in the long term car park for a rest. Then a pleasurable 4 hour trip across the Irish Sea to Wales, where we will catch a train to Cheltenham to be met by daughter and conveyed in luxury to her home. During the ferry trip Mrs H and I will take it in turns to stroll around the ship and have a smoke out on deck while watching the waves go by. All of that plus a quiet pint in the saloon will ease me into a hour or so of sleep.

Master Oliver Mark Rufus

The precocious gift !

This is my one hundredth blog and not the last I hope ;-) My great thanks to all the followers

and especially to those who have the time to leave comments - I will buy you a pint the next time we meet :)

Secrets in an Ancient Woodland

Sunday morning was a good day for a walk in the sunshine, being neither too hot nor cool. I chose to revisit one of Ireland's ancient forests which stands about 9 miles north of our home. The forest woodland consists of 400 -1,000- year old oaks, birches and copper beech trees and many interesting species of plants.

The King Oak of Charleville

The Pedunculate oak - Quercus robur Is less common than the Sessile Oak and is not as popular for use as commercial timber . In Charleville Wood, Co. Offaly the famous Pedunculate ‘King Oak’ is said to be between 400-800 years old. Four of its lower branches touch the ground, with the longest of its branches stretching 76 feet from trunk to tip. The family who lived in the nearby castle were under the impression that when a branch fell off the King Oak a member of the family would die, so as a preventative steel supports were put under the lowest branches!

Charleville Castle, Tullamore, Co. Offaly

The Castle, designed in 1798 by one of Ireland’s leading architects of the day, Francis Johnston was not finally completed until 1812. Unlike many gothic castles built later by the Victorians, Charleville Castle is quite compact rather than a rambling edifice with many wings. True to its time, it is basically a large scale Georgian house with added castellations and towers.

This magnificent building was almost lost through vandalism for it stood vacant from 1912 and by 1968 the roof had been mostly removed. The turn around came in 1971 when the restoration work was started and is still proceeding.

A stone archway

After walking through the archway our path led us to a large tree covered mound, which unfortunately due to the amount of trees on the lower level prevented me from taking a photo of it so you will have to use your imagination :)

A barred window opening in the mound guards a secret grotto

The Grotto quote: ' an artificial grotto formed for the purpose of giving employment

during a season of scarcity' ref quote: A Topographical Dictionary of Ireland in two volumes by Samuel Lewis MDCCCXXXV11 (1837)

A few years ago access to the grotto was easy gained by a doorway which has now been blocked off. Which I daresay was done for good reason as it is quite dark in side and large stones that make the roof do protrude downwards restricting the headroom in places and can give the unwary a hard knock on the head.

Inside the grotto a doorway

I managed to get this photo of the inside the grotto by putting my arms through the gaps between the window bars and taking several chance shots and this is best one.

A stone porch to the Grotto

This was once another entrance to the grotto, now walled up.

Regardless of what Samuel Lewis had to say about the reason for building the grotto it was quite common for country houses of that era to have places such as these, some of them very ornate. They were not just ornamental follies, they were used in a variety of ways and as this one stands close to a shallow river then it may well have been a good place to have a picnic on fine days and bathe.