Joe and Katie (from Wantagh and Seaford, we had the Babylon branch of the LIRR representin')
Kelly and Ashley. (Bellmore and Nova Scotia, not on the same train line.)
We must have run out of glasses cause at some point I spied Sean drinking Corona out of our measuring cup (in his defense our kitchen is rather skimpily furnished.)
Ashley provided the wine, but Katie and I gladly consumed it (after Katie was through wearing it.) Ashley gave gin and black currant mixing lessons to Chris...they were like a pair of mad scientists in the kitchen.After dinner and some sweets, we played the French driving game that is somehow played with cards, Milles Bornes. Katie and Ashley's team won, while the Chris/Kelly and the Sean/Joe teams perished by the side of the road. Clearly Chris is upset with Katie rubbing it in.
Saturday Chris and I headed out for some adventuring. The original plan was to visit the ancestral seat of the Haltigan clan, Kilkenny, but that required an early wakeup for which we were not prepared. So Kilkenny is on tomorrow's agenda. As for Saturday...come follow along and see what we got up to...
Took a walk down our street...
Passing all the colorful Georgian doors...
to our local park.
Above and below...some of the high points of Iveagh Gardens...
(some of these - and the next lot - may be worth clicking on to get the full picture...I'll let you decide which ones.)
The keeper's cottage.
Where to next honey?
Also buried in Glasnevin, my great grandfather, Andrew Haltigan.
How about the cemetery?
(not his headstone, just one that caught my fancy)
Alas, I was unprepared, so we had no idea where his grave is.
Glasnevin's got about 120 acres to it.
So we wandered for a couple hours, enjoying the carving of the headstones, the architecture of the tombs, the melancholy of the graveyard, and the history of the place.
Towers were set up around the original perimeter to watch out for body snatchers...creepy!
The tower in the background contains the remains of Daniel O'Connell known as the Great Liberator, who was responsible for getting the cemetery opened. From Glasnevin's website:
Prior to the establishment of the Glasnevin Cemetery, Irish Catholics had no cemeteries of their own in which to bury their dead and as the repressive Penal Laws (enforced on the Irish since the 17th century by the British) placed heavy restrictions on the public performance of Catholic services, it had become normal practice for Catholics to conduct a limited version of their own funeral services in Protestant cemeteries. This practice continued until an incident at a funeral held in Dublin provoked public outcry when a Protestant sexton reprimanded a Catholic priest for proceeding to perform a limited version of a funeral mass. The event was the final blow to the humiliation of the Catholic population.
As you can imagine, no shortage of Celtic crosses here.
We started the long trek home from Glasnevin
(my dogs were barking)
and stopped of at one of our favorite pubs, The Bull & Castle, for a refreshing pint. Christian is participating in a beer challenge at this place, where he must down a glass of more than thirty different international varieties (not all in one visit.) I'm not sure what he earns, other than the satisfaction of a job well done, but we're enjoying the task at hand, nonetheless. There may be a beer mug in it for him, something Sean will benefit from, no doubt, on his next visit to our place.