We’ve always known we had to go to Ireland to touch base with our ancestors but I’ve been putting it off because it looks so tame and rather boring on the travel sites. I preferred to go somewhere edgier while I could still face it. But now I am feeling sufficiently decrepit to welcome a little cosiness on holiday. So we are going to Clare and Tipperary in quest of an assortment of Kellys and Dunnes on my mother’s maternal side and Lahiffs and O’Farrells on her father’s. And for Right Foot, to Limerick for the ominously named Meaneys.
Then onto Amiens for the battlefields tour. Right Foot’s 19 year old uncle, David, died on the 23rd day of the Somme and is recorded there. It’s amazing to think that Jim had, not a great uncle, but his father’s brother at the First World War.
After that it’s into enemy territory to catch up with the Triple Ms in Berlin where we will celebrate Mere’s recent publishing successes.
I’ve done all the lastlies: put my footy tips in for the next 5 weeks, got my hair done (the colour’s a bit Assange but I like the cut) and taken lots of photos for Hil to show the police if we go missing.
In the spirit of “leave ‘em laughing when you go”, here is a photo of Swinburne’s winning archery team. All my life I’ve wanted to win a trophy and this is the closest I’ve got. Unquestionably the weakest member of the team, I’m claiming it anyway.
